Topher Lydon
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Chapter Four: My Cousin Pip The Hartley kitchen had become a war room once again, but this time the stakes were written in infernal script on smoking paper, and the enemy was a demoness in Milan who just wanted to go to brunch without her fire-breathing toddler. Taine had finally changed out of the sequined cardigan—mostly because Mrs. Hartley had taken pity on him and produced an actual shirt from somewhere, though it was aggressively floral and belonged to Mr. Hartley's go
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Ben can't hide behind his games and mystique with Riley. His biggest trick was convincing Kier that he was terrifying... terrifying doesn't hold up when the thing you are trying to terrify won't be...well... terrified. The next few chapters delve into Riley and why Riley is who he is.
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He's a particular type of lad that exists in England, we tend to refer to them as CHAV (Council Housed AND Violent) though Riley is about as violent as a chipmunk with it's cheeks full...
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Oh definitely, Riley is going to have a field day putting mucky fingerprints all over Ben's carefully curated life.
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The Estate was all Kier's perspective, and his ego was massive. Seeing it for what it was, Ben's shining a light on that ego, Lee's obsession, and... Where the hell did Riley go now?
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Ben's got to figure out how to squash his new self adopted pet cockroach. Stamp on him and he's boinging back like rubber. Ben has NEVER had to deal with someone like Riley. When I wrote this I was wondering at the dynamic and how it would go, Utter Sociopath meets the Unkillable thing...
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His perfect world, has been upset, and that's the best it's gonna get Ben's on a slippery slope to total Riley occupation. It's how Riley survives, by being utterly and irredeemably in your space, eating your lunch, and smiling.
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good morning Right then for those keeping score, that's : Riley: 1 Posh Twat United: Nil Still winning
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The Little Spoon of Didsbury Ben did not sleep. He powered down. His sleep cycle was a disciplined, biological necessity, executed with the same silent efficiency as a library archive closing for the night. He lay on his back, arms at his sides, breathing in a slow, rhythmic shallow tide. He did not toss. He did not turn. He did not dream, because dreams were the brain’s way of processing unresolved clutter, and Ben did not have clutter. His mind was a series of clean, well-lit
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It's funny you should say that, there is an ENTIRE chapter dedicated to this
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It's about controlling who finds out about it and how. You will understand once you meet Tim's father.
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a snippet from what I am writing today:
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I'd love to see the bully that thinks teasing a shapeshifting, fire breathing, Cambion is a good idea... The snark alone would be worth the price of admission
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I think it is amusing that After all the angst of the last book... Taine and Charlie have been dating for a year, and haven't even kissed. They are slower than molasses going up hill on crutches in January. Tyler sitting back, watching in utter amusement, 4000 miles away, knowing who is still winning when it comes to Taine.
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temporary hold what now? fixed it... sorry that must have been an auto setting, this story has been sitting on GA for a bit waiting for a publication slot. (I only get two a day, so I am budgeting and preloading most of my work... it's a rather fat back catelogue of ten years worth of stuff... so it's coming out in dribs and drabs... I honestly think I have a good six months of material in the backlog... so as it sits there I think there's a thingy that clicks it over to temporary hold if it sits too long.
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You are probably right there... that's probably a bit of me poking through.
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Oh yes there are a whole bunch of loopholes, Sabrina's up to something. Something that involves her needing 1000 souls and no kid. Now if only they had a lawyer. :: Pip freezes a banana chip half way to his mouth.:: "What's up dudes? Why are you all looking at me?"
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A Reverse Custody Battle
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Chapter Three: Service of Process The Hartley kitchen had finally achieved something approaching calm. It had taken approximately four hours, three changes of clothing, and one near-miss with the curtains, but Cecil was finally asleep in the pack-and-play that Mrs. Hartley had miraculously produced from the hall closet. The baby—cambion, demon-spawn, tiny terrorist—looked almost angelic in sleep, his little chest rising and falling, the occasional wisp of smoke curling from
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Riley as a top... now there is an HIGHLY entertaining thought. "Alright you big scary monster, bend over the very expensive couch over there and I am going to... errr... um... so just for your information... I've never actually... you know... done it like this before. So I am going to need a second, a few diagrams, and maybe an owners manual... you have a prostate right? and it's in there somewhere... right then, let's get started... here I go... don't MURDER me... you know what, how about we have a cuppa first, and maybe not kill me?"
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So which one is going to tame the other? Riley the Alley Cat vs the slightly off, (totally plotting to kill you) show cat.
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Ben has gravely underestimated what our little hoodrat is going to do to his perfect world.
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Riley's guide to survival, flip everything they know on it's head, and be utterly unrepentant about it.
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There is one path to getting Kieran, and that's with bait.
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Ahh Riley, turning people's worlds upside down with his irreverent Riley-tastic Riley-ness Ben's perfectly manicured lawn now has a Bin-Lorry parked across it, one wheel up on a Gnome, with two very confused binmen hanging off the back stunned they are alive.
