Cabinet of Curiosities

At the second go-round reading The Sandman (my first with the spectacularly heavy Absolute edition on my lap, turning my legs numb over the course of two evenings) I'm still just as floored as the first time I got my hands on the book...

The redeeming bit about "The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner" is that it is, in fact, short. Likewise, in that Bree doesn't suffer long, neither does the reader...

** spoiler alert ** There are ups and downs to the Succubus series on whole; Georgina makes for a compelling character, for one, and despite being a denizen of hell, her character remains mottled by human concerns and failings, making her journey believable. There are times, however, when she's too human. There are times, still, when the porn is dull. There are times when I really wish she'd sop every last ounce of gleaming goodness from Seth and be left to wallow in misery after his demise...

Excellent teen fantasy/horror from debut author Kelly Creagh. I haven't met characters this compelling, nor been so immersed in a novel since first picking up the Mortal Instruments series (i.e. its been a while). High believability, and a compelling romance in bloom. I'll be glad to read anything else Kelly publishes after this; for a debut, its really strong work...

For a book that's been self-published, Alvarado's work exceeded my expectations, but fell short in others. Understandably, this is intended as an introductory manual to New Orleans hoodoo, so my expectations weren't very high. She makes quite a bit of reference to the work of other authors, and perhaps that's what's left me feeling a little let down. (The other authors, in particular, include Ray Malbrough, Cat Yronwode and Luisa Teish. Accordingly, the absent information in Alvarado's book can be found elsewhere, but I was hoping for the information she presents to be a bit more assimilated...)

I am not merely tired right now: I am in full-on, brain-craving, stiff-legged zombie lurch. The weekend started on Thursday with Twilight-a-thon, resulting in the consumption of too many beers and a mini-hangover on Friday, which was topped by family coming into town on Friday afternoon, picking up the boyfriend, prepping a BBQ (while still hungover, I might add), then lunch and dinner again with the family on Saturday (somehow the boy and I ended up making Easter dinner Saturday night -- still not too sure how that happened), popped into a house party in the city Saturday night (during which we got kicked off the rooftop -- which, by the way, is an ideal location for any shenanigans when the weather's as nice as its been the past couple of days) and then lunch again today with Justin's family...

A while back I placed an order with ThriftBooks through Amazon Marketplace, for three archaic Anne Rice books. I spent no more than ten bucks on them. They're used. I read them when I was a pre-teen (racy stuff for a thirteen year old), and I had the urge to read them again around Mardi Gras (for the obvious reason that the Lives of the Mayfair Witches series is New Orleans-centric, much like the Vampire Chronicles.)

With New Moon set to be released on DVD in a matter of days, I've been a little antsy. Admittedly, I find a lot wrong with the Twilight series; I have ample things to criticize about it, I frequently poke fun at it, and for some godawful reason, other people still come back to me to gush. (This only met with the infrequent inward sigh and forced smile; depending on the topic -- and usually the more viscious disassembly of Suethor-ism is the topic that really gets me going -- but I do enjoy the stupid books, and the stupid movies on occasion (but mostly when its raining outside... Wonder why.) Partly, I think this is because the Twilight series harkens back to my days as a fledgling fannit, and my initial introduction to urban fantasy [...]

It was a surprise to me that I woke up before the hour of my birth this morning. I don't usually do the pre-eight-a.m. circuit unless I have to; eight a.m. is golden time -- fifteen minutes after my iMac's alarm goes off, playing a random selection from my Reggae playlist (because when Bob is waking you up, you will have a good day) -- more importantly, eight a.m. is coffee time. I drink one cup of black sludge a day with vanilla soy milk, and damnit, I intend to enjoy it: you don't talk to me before the java. I don't check my e-mail before the java. I certainly don't want to be reminded that I'm a year older... before the java...

Shoulders squared, hips swinging, fists balled at her sides, Rogue strode into the Danger Room, her eyes already narrowed with a purpose that her surveyors in the control tower couldn’t possibly guess at. The drop of her boot heels echoed loudly against the reinforced floors. "Activate: Rogue's Run, x-five-point-niner," she shouted.

...People expected her to resort to this sort of melancholy introspection, anyway, Rogue thought; the conversation with the Professor a lingering black cloud over her head on an otherwise luminescent morning. The sun, white in its newness, was barely beginning to clear the tops of the trees over the North forest.

When Gambit left Rogue on the shores of Blood Moon Bayou, he slipped a solitary playing card into her hand. More than a conciliatory gesture, it signaled the start of a game that carried the understanding: Never bet more than you are willing to lose.

"If a car leaves New York traveling at fifty miles per hour, and the distance to Louisiana is thirteen hundred and fifty miles, and assuming the driver takes no more than three pit stops per each eight hours of road time, and allocating a reasonable amount of time for rest each night, how long will it take to reach his destination?"

When Gambit left Rogue on the shores of Blood Moon Bayou, he slipped a solitary playing card into her hand. More than a conciliatory gesture, it signaled the start of a game that carried the understanding: Never bet more than you are willing to lose.

Stale peanut shells that don’t crunch anymore because they’re sodden with too much spilled liquor, pad the floor beneath his boots. Wrapped in his trench, elbows on the bar, he pulls down further into his collar, comforting himself with a sweating glass of Kentucky bourbon that he shouldn’t rightly be drinking. He’s only seventeen, after all...

Jersey Shore meets the X-Men.

“I don’t wanna be here no more,” he mutters, more to himself than Lapin, though his cousin hears him perfectly. “Don’t belong.”

This is what happens when you wake up in the middle of the morning, and you can't find your doodlebook to transcribe what your characters are telling you while you're sleeping...

Dastardly good reading this week at the Pit...

This update is largely thanks to aiRo25, who supplied the recs (and has now provided me with many, many hours worth of reading material.)

As per usual, the process of hunting down great Rogue and Gambit fanfiction across all universes continues. A few new additions to the House of Cards community on Fanfiction.net, for your reading pleasure...

I have no intention of stockpiling additions for rainy days; I'll be posting updates to House of Cards as they're made, regardless of how small. As always, you can subscribe directly to the community, or feel free to make recommendations in the comments, here. The one caveat is that the stories must be hosted on fanfiction.net. All universes are welcome, including crossovers, as long as the primary pairing is Rogue/Gambit.

In the effort to get back into the swing of things, a few new additions to the House of Cards community on fanfiction.net: "A ROMY community dedicated to the very best Rogue & Gambit fanfiction from all X-Men universes."