Written by Falconempress. Posted on Jun 23, 07:31 PM.

"You Slay Me" Spork - Chapter 15

Chapter 15, all right. We are slowly but surely nearing the end, you know. Which means all this pain will stop and I can also stop drinking impossible amounts of heavy alcohol, just to be able to fall asleep and in my drunken stupor, be free of the hideous nightmares that reading this book has inticed so far.

Speaking of nightmares – Assling has another most interesting dream involving Drake. Oh goody. Are you as excited as I am? Are you? Do you want to see what happens in this dream? Do you?

….

I don’t. I want it to end. I want it to never exist and stop tormenting my soul. There are no tears left for me to cry, there is nothing more this book can possibly take from me. What is the point? What is the meaning behind life, universe and everything, if something like this abomination of literature is allowed to exist? Why –

All right, let’s DO THIS :D

She gets back to the twins’ place, wonders how much Fiat (snicker snicker) managed to glean from her mind before she acquired the skill of mind – barrier and managed to raise it to the highest level without doing any actual training. She has a bath that smells nice, although MacAlister uses so many more words to describe that, and goes to dreamless sleep. Or so she thinks.

“I am so not doing this,” I said as I walked into a pool of light. I had no idea where I was other than there was the faintest sense of a tall, arched ceiling above me and a long narrow space that resembled the inside of a Gothic cathedral, but I knew Drake was somewhere in the shadows.

Of course it’s something as awe – inspiring as a gothic cathedral (by the way, since I am not really versed in proper use of capitalization in English language – if you mean the gothic architectural style, don’t you use miniscules? Doesn’t capitalization in this case imply it was a cathedral built by the ancient Germanic tribe of Goths?) And of course she is standing in a pool of light, since she is Just That Special and the center of all creation (haha, move aside, Romilly!)

This time I was wearing a very tight red-and-black flamenco dress, complete with ruffled sleeves, low-cut bodice exposing a fair portion of my bosom and all of my back, and a slinky, hip-hugging skirt that clung to my thighs before flaring out to open into black and red ruffles. It was a very sexy dress, much more daring and seductive than anything I’d ever worn.

I really do stand behind the viewpoint of “to each their own”, but that sounds like a bloody ugly dress. But you know what, MacAlister, for all the pain you have caused me, I am going to hurt you back. Oh yeah, I am going to ruin this for you.

There. That’s what Assling looks like in my mind for this scene, at least.

The tango music seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere

Of course it did.

as Drake sauntered out into the circle of light, clad almost completely in black.

Oh and out handsome male lead enters, like all bad boys, dressed completely in black. I bet the bastard clipped his toenails too.

The light source above us shown down on his black satin shirt, turning it to liquid ebony as it rippled across his chest and arms. He stopped and held out his hand for me. Without thinking,

Haha. Just this one time?

I did a twirl toward him,

Oh, she twirls. Of course she does.

clasping his hand and continuing to turn until I was flush against him, our hands locked together in the small of my back, the bloodred sash at his waist matching my dress exactly.

headdesk

Why –

headdesk

I am going to continue the ruination of this supposedly intense moment between our two nauseating leads. We already have a mental image of Assling for this passage, what about the oh-so-dangerous Drake? OH I KNOW! Just gimme a second to scribble something real quick…and a bit here…done!

Here. Enjoy:

BAHAHAHAHAHA

“I don’t tango,” I said, breathless as I always was in his presence.

If that is the case, would you PLEASE suffocate already?

“Now you do.”

His voice, deep and rich and filled with all sorts of erotic unspoken promises, stroked down my spine with a touch that left me shivering . .. but whether it was with fear or arousal, I was unwilling to admit.

Can somebody pass the vomiting bucket please?

Aaaaand… they dance. Oh wait, no, that would be too classy for this book. They proceed to dryhump each other. Again. Only this time with music in the background.

I twirled away, Drake following me, our bodies coming together in a sensual dance that had no choreography other than the need to be near each another. The tango music demanded, we danced; his body asked, mine answered, my legs moving in and out and around his, my foot sliding slowly up his calf in a caress that almost did me in.

Ummm… no, not buying it.

We moved together, sweeping a sultry, sensual line down the pool of light, my skirt caressing his legs as we danced without words,

Nope, I don’t believe a single word you say trying to sell this as an Epic Romance ™. Too late for that now.

without even touching, just a breath apart and yet bound tighter by our mutual passion than mere contact alone could promise.

You can’t salvage this. Not after all you have done, MacAlister. You just can’t. The concept that we can see in this last sentence – the two of them dancing, almost touching but never quite – is actually one that sounds absolutely great. But in order for that to work, there has to be tension or chemistry, that would only thrive in a scenario such as this – undeniably pulled towards each other, but never quite touching, the music in the background. That doesn’t sound half bad, now does it? Wait, am I trying to fix this? Nah, in order for that to work, the character dynamic between these two would require subtlety and seeing as we are way, way, WAY pass the line when any of this can be subtle, I don’t see how this can be anything but stupid. So shut your face, suethor, you are not fooling anyone, no matter how hard you are trying to shove this down our throats.

“Why did you leave me?” Drake asked as he bent me backwards over his arm, his face shadowed. “Why did you run from me?”

So many “abusive jerk” jokes I could make right now, so little space…

“I don’t understand you. I’ve tried, but it’s impossible. I don’t know what you want from me.”

Drake, honey, you are not alone in this one, trust me.

“I don’t have to tell you anything. We may have some strange metaphysical tie,

Oh is THAT what the cool kids are calling in nowadays? A “metaphysical tie”. I seriously need to update my L337 sp33k.

“We have mated. You want me even now.”

You just HAD TO remind me.

“That doesn’t mean we’re going to do anything.”

Outrage stiffened him against me. “Are you refusing me?”

Why would you do this? Why would you use the word “stiffen” in a situation like this? Whyyyyy?

Blah blah blah they exchange some more pointless banter and just to let you know – I cut about 70% of the dialogue and descriptions in the above few paragraphs, to spare you the pain of reading through their rubbing with all the excruciating detail. So they just say goodbye and I think Drake is pissed or something, but oh who cares.

I would not fall in love with a murderer. No matter how much he wrung my heart.

Oh spare me. Trying to convince the reader that there is something going on on a deeper, emotional level seems just sad at this point. Not to mention pointless. You’re like that kid on a beach trying to dig a hole, regardless of the fact that with each new wave, more and more sand flows in, until the kid is right where it started.

Blah blah blah, more pointlessness, Assling actually thinking about somebody besides herself, worrying about how the twins are putting themselves in trouble protecting her and she actually feels bad for bringing a demon into their home. Jim is making me hate him even more, proving that there is no such thing as hate that cannot grow any deeper.

Saaay, what time is it?

INFODUMP TIIIIMEEE!!!

“What powers does a Guardian have other than taking care of portals and summoning and releasing demons?”

We have been going at this for how long now? Fifteen chapters? A bit less than that? And you are only asking that NOW? Shouldn’t that have been your first question when people started refering to you as “Guardian” left and right? One would assume you would show at least a glimmer of interest, seeing as, oh I don’t know, YOU ARE ONE!!! But since the plot convenience demands otherwise, well, there’s nothing anyone can do, I suppose. So what powers does a Guardian have?

“Whatever powers she needs.”

stares at the sentence blankly

reads the sentence again

blinks

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh that’s great! That’s just rich!

wipes tears

Oh I really have nothing to say about this.

Assling thinks this answer too vague and asks for a list of specific abilities we can hope to pop out whenever convenient in the near future.

“She can draw wards and curses, can conduct mind pushes on mortals, depending on the level of her training, and can recognize Otherworld entities no matter what their disguises.”

That’s really not “WHATEVER power she needs”. That’s an awfully specific list. And since we’re not done infodumping, Assling asks what a “mind push” is.

‘‘Not the spoon-bending kind. It’s just you reaching out with your mind and convincing the other person they really want to do what it is you want them to do. Mind push, get it?”

Oh brilliance. The stupidest, most vacuous person in existence can mind – rape people around her to be her bitches. Anybody else see the problem with this?

To cut this short, turns out Ophelia and Perdita cannot identify Jim as a demon because only people who deal with “dark powers” (oh yes, that’s the exact phrasing from the book) can recognize other creatures that are connected to these “dark powers”.

Jim stops infodumping since it’s time for his bath and he has to lick his balls. Oh yeah. That is in the book as well.

FUCK you, MacAlister. Fuck you HARD.

Ophelia and Perdita arrive and they have this demon – repellent plant which is supposed to be funny because Jim does not even bat an eyelash – oh, aren’t these two silly, knowing nothing about demons?

While the twins are doing…something, I don’t know and to be honest, don’t care, Assling takes the moment to rummage through their library. And – wouldn’t you know it – they have a bunch of books on demon summoning and “dark arts”

Did you hear that? What was that sound? Could it have been the sound of a plot point dropping like a 16 ton weight?

Why yes, yes it is. I think my eardrums are bleeding.

Assling brushes it off, since Ophelia was taught by the Venediger and worked for him as well.

Assling, for some reason, needs to go see Amelie, so she calls up Rene. He seems awfully insulted that Assling would ever thought he would believe what they say about her in the papers (all true, I tell ya!) and she apologizes or something, so that’s all well. They arrive at Amelie’s place, but in order to protect the wanted criminal sitting on his back seat from getting caught by the lawful authorities, he first makes sure no cops are around. Only then he stops to let her out and they decide on a rendez – vous point should anything go awry. So she gets out and heads for the store, only who other should she suddenly run into than inspector Proust?

Yes! Now he has a shitload of evidence! He has to waterboard her for sure! Hooray!

Thank you for reading,

falconempress

Tagged as Falconempress, Paranormal Romance, Spork, You Slay Me.

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