FAR Manor - the annex
Review: The Necromancer’s Apprentice, by Icy Sedgwick

4/5 stars - a fun, dark novella! Grab it at Amazon, in paperback or for Kindle.

Blurbage: Though Jyximus Faire lives in a crumbling tenement in the Underground City, he escapes the squalor daily to attend lessons in magic and sorcery at the prestigious Academy in the City Above. But the pace isn’t fast enough for Jyx. He wants to learn everything – and he wants to learn it now. 

Then the dread necromancer general Eufame Delsenza sets her sights on Jyx; she needs a new apprentice, and Jyx fits the bill. When she tasks him with helping to prepare royal mummies for an all-important procession, he realises this might be a chance of a lifetime. 

Will Jyx’s impatience lead to him taking his education into his own inexperienced hands, and can a necromancer’s apprentice really learn to raise the dead – and control them? 

Nobody writes mummy stories like Icy Sedgwick. A perennial contributor to #FridayFlash, her story “No Flash” is still my favorite long after she posted it. So when she said she was going to write a Sorcerer’s Apprentice story, and replace the brooms with mummies, I was ready to grab it on Launch Day.

And it did not disappoint, even if I didn’t get around to writing the review right away. It’s dark, the way I like dark, with a little hilarity along the way.

Icy likes complex characters with multiple (even contradicting) motivations, and Jyximus Faire is certainly that. He’s from a poor district of the Underground City, attending the Academy on a scholarship. He’s proud, verging on arrogant, but wants to help his family. And most of all, he wants to learn as much as he can as quickly as he can. He jumps at the chance to become the apprentice of the Necromancer General, who can get his family out of the squalor of Benefactor’s Close with a word. If you’re familiar with the Sorcerer’s Apprentice story, you can guess what happens next.

The only flaws are flaws if the story ends here and there’s no sequel. The ending all but says more is to come, and I hope it’s soon. One of the other students at the Academy, Markus Prady, is one of the few who wants to befriend Jyx. I just feel he has more to say than what we’ve seen so far.

So if you want something other than the worn-out vampires and zombies, I’d highly recommend this one. And now I wait patiently, hoping for a sequel…

farmanor:

faboomama:

lnkdroptheory:

radempressofsass:

delicately-interconnected:

teafortrouble:

steampoweredcor:

thewintersoulja:

frappemako:

the-one-inside:

someottersmarryhedgehogs:

noiselesspatientspider:

iheartuniversecookies:

angelas-extrasandstuff:

I would like to share this beautiful passage with all of you, it’s long, but worth it. And I swear to god I didn’t alter any of this. 
….
Her long hair, still wet from the shower, had been combed down her back in a wet swath. Hilda was sitting on the floor, her round, wet boobs still wet from the shower’s water. She dried off the water with a towel, which then became wet.
Hilda gasped when she saw a reflection in her bedroom mirror: through the slightly open door, she caught a glimpse of the chiseled abs and square jaw of the mysterious stranger who shared her cabin. She stood and spun around, her breasts swinging heavily with the momentum. She grabbed the door and flung it open, revealing shirtless Torolf (which is seriously his name) quivering with desire in the hallway.
Torolf was ashamed at being caught, but his shame made him even hotter – hotter for sex. He stepped into the room, and his bulging abs accidentally smushed into Hilda’s rich chest.
As Hilda’s buttermilk bosoms squished up against his granite abs, Torolf almost had a dick aneurysm.“Hilda,” Torolf murmured thickly, his throbbing meat wand pressing against Hilda’s warm thighs. “There is a secret I need to not tell you: You are my forbidden desire.”
Hilda had been waiting to hear these words. Her heart was lifted on golden wings and soared toward a radiant sun of perfect joy. She saw herself and Torolf happy together, bathed in the golden light of love. Her snooch got all warm, too.
“Torolf,” Hilda moaned, her lush teats straining with desire. “I need you.”Torolf, coarse abs pulsing softly in the moonlight, stood silently.Hilda looked at him expectantly.“Oh, sorry,” she added. “Torolf, I need you – sexually.”
At hearing those beautiful words, Torolf flexed his rough-hewn abs and Hilda found herself being guided to her soft bed by the sheer force of Torolf’s undulating midsection. She parted her thighs in anticipation, exposing the soft pink petals of her clunge.
Torolf entered her like she was a lottery. His engorged pecker pushed inside her and she felt fulfilled with sexual fulfillment.
Hilda clutched at the bedsheets with lust and ecstasy and her hands. Her spongy love mountains hurled to and fro with each pounding. Her body was like a beautiful flower that was opening and somebody was pushing their dick inside it.
Then Torolf moaned, arched his back, and suffered from dick Parkinson’s. He pumped in all of his hot pearlescent sperms as Hilda spasmed with so many orgasms!
The two lay still for a moment as the stinky scent of lovemaking billowed around the room.Hilda got out of bed, still shimmering with orgasm. She glowed with contentment, like a cat who ate the cream of the crop.
She walked across the room and picked up her towel, still wet with shower water. “Torolf,” she said softly, “there’s something I have to tell you…”
But her bed was empty.
Torolf was gone, escaped out the bedroom window. In the distance, Hilda heard the fading sound of galloping abs.
….

DICK
ANEURYSM

GALLOPING ABS

Who told this lady she could write?

Why did she ever stop?

IT GETS WORSE THE FURTHER IN THE PASSAGE YOU GO OMG

i fukcing lost it at meat wand

This is the best thing I have ever read

This stuff. This, right here, is inspirational.
No, I’m serious. I’m not even making a joke right now. Whenever you feel down about your writing, or when you feel like you’re not good enough, just remember:
Books like this get published ALL THE TIME. Yours can too.

Straight people you nasty

what are galloping abs and how do I get them?

I just. I just. LMAO “I need you sexually” LMAO omg

Snooch.
Snooch?!
I’m in tears just from the 5 uses of ‘wet’ in one paragraph.

This reads like the distorted fantasies of a 12 year old who has been sneaking peeks at Internet porn. What. A. Trainwreck.

I’ve since learned that this “excerpt” is a hoax. As an author, I find this the lowest blow ever, lower than leaving negative reviews without reading the book. Write a parody of erotica, or any other genre you’re not fond of, that’s not a problem. The faked excerpt was hilarious as a standalone passage, and it’s still pretty funny. But when you attach it to one author’s book cover, that’s a HUGE problem bordering on slander.Worse, I let my own biases about erotica and traditional publishers get in the way of double-checking this before joining the dog-pile. Even if the phrase “dick attack” really is in the book, that doesn’t justify writing a parody and labeling it anything but (anti?)fan fiction.I owe Sandra Hill an apology. You just don’t do that kind of crap to people. Leave a negative review if you didn’t like the book, and explain the problems you had with it, that’s fine. A good author can learn from mistakes and improve the next book. But to put an author’s name on a deliberately crappy parody is WRONG.

farmanor:

faboomama:

lnkdroptheory:

radempressofsass:

delicately-interconnected:

teafortrouble:

steampoweredcor:

thewintersoulja:

frappemako:

the-one-inside:

someottersmarryhedgehogs:

noiselesspatientspider:

iheartuniversecookies:

angelas-extrasandstuff:

I would like to share this beautiful passage with all of you, it’s long, but worth it. And I swear to god I didn’t alter any of this. 

….

Her long hair, still wet from the shower, had been combed down her back in a wet swath. Hilda was sitting on the floor, her round, wet boobs still wet from the shower’s water. She dried off the water with a towel, which then became wet.

Hilda gasped when she saw a reflection in her bedroom mirror: through the slightly open door, she caught a glimpse of the chiseled abs and square jaw of the mysterious stranger who shared her cabin. She stood and spun around, her breasts swinging heavily with the momentum. She grabbed the door and flung it open, revealing shirtless Torolf (which is seriously his name) quivering with desire in the hallway.


Torolf was ashamed at being caught, but his shame made him even hotter – hotter for sex. He stepped into the room, and his bulging abs accidentally smushed into Hilda’s rich chest.


As Hilda’s buttermilk bosoms squished up against his granite abs, Torolf almost had a dick aneurysm.
“Hilda,” Torolf murmured thickly, his throbbing meat wand pressing against Hilda’s warm thighs. “There is a secret I need to not tell you: You are my forbidden desire.”


Hilda had been waiting to hear these words. Her heart was lifted on golden wings and soared toward a radiant sun of perfect joy. She saw herself and Torolf happy together, bathed in the golden light of love. Her snooch got all warm, too.


“Torolf,” Hilda moaned, her lush teats straining with desire. “I need you.”
Torolf, coarse abs pulsing softly in the moonlight, stood silently.
Hilda looked at him expectantly.
“Oh, sorry,” she added. “Torolf, I need you – sexually.”

At hearing those beautiful words, Torolf flexed his rough-hewn abs and Hilda found herself being guided to her soft bed by the sheer force of Torolf’s undulating midsection. She parted her thighs in anticipation, exposing the soft pink petals of her clunge.

Torolf entered her like she was a lottery. His engorged pecker pushed inside her and she felt fulfilled with sexual fulfillment.

Hilda clutched at the bedsheets with lust and ecstasy and her hands. Her spongy love mountains hurled to and fro with each pounding. Her body was like a beautiful flower that was opening and somebody was pushing their dick inside it.

Then Torolf moaned, arched his back, and suffered from dick Parkinson’s. He pumped in all of his hot pearlescent sperms as Hilda spasmed with so many orgasms!

The two lay still for a moment as the stinky scent of lovemaking billowed around the room.
Hilda got out of bed, still shimmering with orgasm. She glowed with contentment, like a cat who ate the cream of the crop.

She walked across the room and picked up her towel, still wet with shower water. “Torolf,” she said softly, “there’s something I have to tell you…”

But her bed was empty.

Torolf was gone, escaped out the bedroom window. In the distance, Hilda heard the fading sound of galloping abs.

….

DICK

ANEURYSM

GALLOPING ABS

Who told this lady she could write?

Why did she ever stop?

IT GETS WORSE THE FURTHER IN THE PASSAGE YOU GO OMG

i fukcing lost it at meat wand

This is the best thing I have ever read

This stuff. This, right here, is inspirational.

No, I’m serious. I’m not even making a joke right now. Whenever you feel down about your writing, or when you feel like you’re not good enough, just remember:

Books like this get published ALL THE TIME. Yours can too.

Straight people you nasty

what are galloping abs and how do I get them?

I just. I just. LMAO “I need you sexually” LMAO omg

Snooch.

Snooch?!

I’m in tears just from the 5 uses of ‘wet’ in one paragraph.

This reads like the distorted fantasies of a 12 year old who has been sneaking peeks at Internet porn. What. A. Trainwreck.

I’ve since learned that this “excerpt” is a hoax. As an author, I find this the lowest blow ever, lower than leaving negative reviews without reading the book. Write a parody of erotica, or any other genre you’re not fond of, that’s not a problem. The faked excerpt was hilarious as a standalone passage, and it’s still pretty funny. But when you attach it to one author’s book cover, that’s a HUGE problem bordering on slander.

Worse, I let my own biases about erotica and traditional publishers get in the way of double-checking this before joining the dog-pile. Even if the phrase “dick attack” really is in the book, that doesn’t justify writing a parody and labeling it anything but (anti?)fan fiction.

I owe Sandra Hill an apology. You just don’t do that kind of crap to people. Leave a negative review if you didn’t like the book, and explain the problems you had with it, that’s fine. A good author can learn from mistakes and improve the next book. But to put an author’s name on a deliberately crappy parody is WRONG.

faboomama:

lnkdroptheory:

radempressofsass:

delicately-interconnected:

teafortrouble:

steampoweredcor:

thewintersoulja:

frappemako:

the-one-inside:

someottersmarryhedgehogs:

noiselesspatientspider:

iheartuniversecookies:

angelas-extrasandstuff:

I would like to share this beautiful passage with all of you, it’s long, but worth it. And I swear to god I didn’t alter any of this. 
….
Her long hair, still wet from the shower, had been combed down her back in a wet swath. Hilda was sitting on the floor, her round, wet boobs still wet from the shower’s water. She dried off the water with a towel, which then became wet.
Hilda gasped when she saw a reflection in her bedroom mirror: through the slightly open door, she caught a glimpse of the chiseled abs and square jaw of the mysterious stranger who shared her cabin. She stood and spun around, her breasts swinging heavily with the momentum. She grabbed the door and flung it open, revealing shirtless Torolf (which is seriously his name) quivering with desire in the hallway.
Torolf was ashamed at being caught, but his shame made him even hotter – hotter for sex. He stepped into the room, and his bulging abs accidentally smushed into Hilda’s rich chest.
As Hilda’s buttermilk bosoms squished up against his granite abs, Torolf almost had a dick aneurysm.“Hilda,” Torolf murmured thickly, his throbbing meat wand pressing against Hilda’s warm thighs. “There is a secret I need to not tell you: You are my forbidden desire.”
Hilda had been waiting to hear these words. Her heart was lifted on golden wings and soared toward a radiant sun of perfect joy. She saw herself and Torolf happy together, bathed in the golden light of love. Her snooch got all warm, too.
“Torolf,” Hilda moaned, her lush teats straining with desire. “I need you.”Torolf, coarse abs pulsing softly in the moonlight, stood silently.Hilda looked at him expectantly.“Oh, sorry,” she added. “Torolf, I need you – sexually.”
At hearing those beautiful words, Torolf flexed his rough-hewn abs and Hilda found herself being guided to her soft bed by the sheer force of Torolf’s undulating midsection. She parted her thighs in anticipation, exposing the soft pink petals of her clunge.
Torolf entered her like she was a lottery. His engorged pecker pushed inside her and she felt fulfilled with sexual fulfillment.
Hilda clutched at the bedsheets with lust and ecstasy and her hands. Her spongy love mountains hurled to and fro with each pounding. Her body was like a beautiful flower that was opening and somebody was pushing their dick inside it.
Then Torolf moaned, arched his back, and suffered from dick Parkinson’s. He pumped in all of his hot pearlescent sperms as Hilda spasmed with so many orgasms!
The two lay still for a moment as the stinky scent of lovemaking billowed around the room.Hilda got out of bed, still shimmering with orgasm. She glowed with contentment, like a cat who ate the cream of the crop.
She walked across the room and picked up her towel, still wet with shower water. “Torolf,” she said softly, “there’s something I have to tell you…”
But her bed was empty.
Torolf was gone, escaped out the bedroom window. In the distance, Hilda heard the fading sound of galloping abs.
….

DICK
ANEURYSM

GALLOPING ABS

Who told this lady she could write?

Why did she ever stop?

IT GETS WORSE THE FURTHER IN THE PASSAGE YOU GO OMG

i fukcing lost it at meat wand

This is the best thing I have ever read

This stuff. This, right here, is inspirational.
No, I’m serious. I’m not even making a joke right now. Whenever you feel down about your writing, or when you feel like you’re not good enough, just remember:
Books like this get published ALL THE TIME. Yours can too.

Straight people you nasty

what are galloping abs and how do I get them?

I just. I just. LMAO “I need you sexually” LMAO omg

Snooch.
Snooch?!
I’m in tears just from the 5 uses of ‘wet’ in one paragraph.

This reads like the distorted fantasies of a 12 year old who has been sneaking peeks at Internet porn. What. A. Trainwreck.

faboomama:

lnkdroptheory:

radempressofsass:

delicately-interconnected:

teafortrouble:

steampoweredcor:

thewintersoulja:

frappemako:

the-one-inside:

someottersmarryhedgehogs:

noiselesspatientspider:

iheartuniversecookies:

angelas-extrasandstuff:

I would like to share this beautiful passage with all of you, it’s long, but worth it. And I swear to god I didn’t alter any of this. 

….

Her long hair, still wet from the shower, had been combed down her back in a wet swath. Hilda was sitting on the floor, her round, wet boobs still wet from the shower’s water. She dried off the water with a towel, which then became wet.

Hilda gasped when she saw a reflection in her bedroom mirror: through the slightly open door, she caught a glimpse of the chiseled abs and square jaw of the mysterious stranger who shared her cabin. She stood and spun around, her breasts swinging heavily with the momentum. She grabbed the door and flung it open, revealing shirtless Torolf (which is seriously his name) quivering with desire in the hallway.


Torolf was ashamed at being caught, but his shame made him even hotter – hotter for sex. He stepped into the room, and his bulging abs accidentally smushed into Hilda’s rich chest.


As Hilda’s buttermilk bosoms squished up against his granite abs, Torolf almost had a dick aneurysm.
“Hilda,” Torolf murmured thickly, his throbbing meat wand pressing against Hilda’s warm thighs. “There is a secret I need to not tell you: You are my forbidden desire.”


Hilda had been waiting to hear these words. Her heart was lifted on golden wings and soared toward a radiant sun of perfect joy. She saw herself and Torolf happy together, bathed in the golden light of love. Her snooch got all warm, too.


“Torolf,” Hilda moaned, her lush teats straining with desire. “I need you.”
Torolf, coarse abs pulsing softly in the moonlight, stood silently.
Hilda looked at him expectantly.
“Oh, sorry,” she added. “Torolf, I need you – sexually.”

At hearing those beautiful words, Torolf flexed his rough-hewn abs and Hilda found herself being guided to her soft bed by the sheer force of Torolf’s undulating midsection. She parted her thighs in anticipation, exposing the soft pink petals of her clunge.

Torolf entered her like she was a lottery. His engorged pecker pushed inside her and she felt fulfilled with sexual fulfillment.

Hilda clutched at the bedsheets with lust and ecstasy and her hands. Her spongy love mountains hurled to and fro with each pounding. Her body was like a beautiful flower that was opening and somebody was pushing their dick inside it.

Then Torolf moaned, arched his back, and suffered from dick Parkinson’s. He pumped in all of his hot pearlescent sperms as Hilda spasmed with so many orgasms!

The two lay still for a moment as the stinky scent of lovemaking billowed around the room.
Hilda got out of bed, still shimmering with orgasm. She glowed with contentment, like a cat who ate the cream of the crop.

She walked across the room and picked up her towel, still wet with shower water. “Torolf,” she said softly, “there’s something I have to tell you…”

But her bed was empty.

Torolf was gone, escaped out the bedroom window. In the distance, Hilda heard the fading sound of galloping abs.

….

DICK

ANEURYSM

GALLOPING ABS

Who told this lady she could write?

Why did she ever stop?

IT GETS WORSE THE FURTHER IN THE PASSAGE YOU GO OMG

i fukcing lost it at meat wand

This is the best thing I have ever read

This stuff. This, right here, is inspirational.

No, I’m serious. I’m not even making a joke right now. Whenever you feel down about your writing, or when you feel like you’re not good enough, just remember:

Books like this get published ALL THE TIME. Yours can too.

Straight people you nasty

what are galloping abs and how do I get them?

I just. I just. LMAO “I need you sexually” LMAO omg

Snooch.

Snooch?!

I’m in tears just from the 5 uses of ‘wet’ in one paragraph.

This reads like the distorted fantasies of a 12 year old who has been sneaking peeks at Internet porn. What. A. Trainwreck.

madebyabvh:

Original illustration by Tom Gauld

YES. THIS.

satanic-capitalist:

I did, years ago. No regrets.

havehope-betrue:

THIS NEEDS MORE NOTES.


BMW owners take note!

havehope-betrue:

THIS NEEDS MORE NOTES.

BMW owners take note!

Review: Mind Noise by Helen Howell

If you could read my mind, love,
What a tale my thoughts could tell
Just like a paperback novel,
The kind the drugstore sells.
— Gordon Lightfoot

image

The title of Helen Howell’s latest, Mind Noise, is enough to tell you about the downside of being able to read minds. Mikey, an adolescent boy, has that ability. But his inability to shut out all the mental chatter around him drives him to seek shelter away from everyone. As much as he wants to have friends and fit in with the others, he cannot.

What Mikey doesn’t know is that there are two people very interested in him: Catherine, an older girl at school, and a mysterious old man who calls himself Mr. Brown. The old man offers to teach Mikey how to develop his ability—not only how to shut out the chatter, but to do much more. Catherine, a mind reader born into a family of mind readers, is keenly interested in what Mikey is learning, and befriends him. Catherine’s family knows about the old man, and what his real agenda is.

The relationships are portrayed with Helen’s usual skill—the friendly old man with a hidden secret, Catherine’s tightrope walk as she tries to warn Mikey without losing his trust, the school bully who has a problem with Mikey. (Unfortunately for Peter the bully, Mikey isn’t easily intimidated, and has a few tricks up his sleeve!) As Mikey’s power grows, so does the temptation to abuse it. When we get to the final confrontation… well, the story ends with a warning, that’s all I can say without getting into spoiler territory.

The story itself is a short novella, just the thing to escape a rainy afternoon. Shut out the noise, put your feet up, and follow Mikey and Catherine as they try to figure things out.

I give it 4 stars out of 5. Available in eBook and paperback at Amazon.

solarpoweredstoner:

Saw this on the way home. “Police will kill you”

solarpoweredstoner:

Saw this on the way home.
“Police will kill you”

ericjkrause:

rnanatee:

buzzfeed:

These dad jokes from Reddit prove that dads are the original text posters. (images from dadsonvacation.tumblr.com)

DAD HUMOR IS THE WORST IT MAKES ME CRY

THIS MAY BE MY FAVORITE POST EVER!!1!!11!

I confess, I’ve pulled a few of these.

Review: Pigments of My Imagination, by Angela Kulig

Get it: Amazon

When I first ran across Angela Kulig a few years ago, she had posted an excerpt to her novel in progress on her blog. A girl starting art school stumbles across a boy painting swans in a pond. But the water in his painting ripples, and the swans swim and fly. I was captivated by this sample, and figured (given a sufficient amount of justice) Pigments of My Imagination would be a hit.

Time went by. Angela got picked up by Red Iris, rewrote Pigments of My Imagination to suit the darker tone of their titles, split with the publisher, rewrote it back to something closer to the original. She founded a co-op, I was invited to join, and most of the other members fell away, leaving the two of us having each others’ backs. As she puts it, I make the insides look good (editing, formatting), she makes the outsides look good (cover art, marketing). We spend a lot of time IM’ing each other.

But Pigments of My Imagination was still “coming.” It went through yet another rewrite. I’d poke her about it every once in a while. Be careful what you ask for… she got me to edit it. I wasn’t the only one waiting for the finished product, and never expected that I would be a major part of it getting finished.

But it’s done. It’s out.

And it delivers.

The story starts out in an ordinary fashion. Lucia, an artistically-talented high schooler, is about to start her first day at a Galveston art school. There’s the anxiety of separating from her best friend, and her family, and Lucia’s still having a hard time believing her mother is letting her out of sight. That gets us through the first day of the story, and the last “normal” day Lucia will ever have.

By lunch the next day, Lucia has entered a world of living paintings, secret societies (and secret passages), mortal enemies, and soulmates who find each other again and again in each life—and she is at the center of it all. But she doesn’t know enough about herself and her own abilities, and things are coming to a head quickly, the result of both machinations by their enemies and things that Lucia herself set in motion in her previous life. All she wants is to reacquaint herself with Leo, her own soulmate, but there may not be time…

You need to read this. The characters are colorful, and speak with their own voices. Sometimes, you can’t tell which side some of them are on… and maybe they don’t know, either. The last fourth of the book goes at a frantic pace, leading to a cliffhanger ending that almost made me scream.

This story was worth the wait. If I hadn’t been so involved in the production, I’d be glad to give it five stars.