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Stream of Consciousness Saturday: “Ink”

Bridgette stepped into the dining room and saw that Eamonn was the only one there. He didn’t even seem to notice her presence though, as he focused on the paper in front of him. He scribbled a few lines over it, pressed the end of the nib pen against his lip then put it back against the paper. He only paused in the scribbling to dip the pen back into the inkwell.

“Writing a letter?” she asked as she moved closer. She hadn’t really seen much of him recently. Not as much as she had seen of Torin. She felt a little bad that she wasn’t more disappointed by that. But, he was here now.

He jumped a little at her voice, and a few drops of ink fell across the page. He wiped at them, but they only smeared across the paper. He shrugged and set the pen aside. “Not a letter, no.”

She moved a little closer, hoping to get a glimpse of what he was writing. If not a letter, then what could it be? But he slid the paper under a blank sheet. Right, so he did not want her to see. He had been fairly charming to her over the days. She hadn’t expected this turn of behavior.

“You are not going to let me see then?”

“Nay, I do not think that a good idea,” he said, but he did flash her that smile. The one that liked to make her knees a little weak. It wasn’t as strong as it usually was. And it had nothing on what just Torin’s hand on her elbow did to her.

And there was still a sadness in Eamonn’s eyes. He was not as despondent as when they’d first arrived, a little more than a month ago. But, she still saw flashes of it, especially when he didn’t think anyone–mostly his brother it seemed–was watching. She did not know why he didn’t want her to see what he was writing, though. What could the harm be if it was not a personal letter.

But, she moved away and from the corner of her eye saw him dip the pen again. She tried to catch a few words without getting too close. But none of those made much sense to her. Not without seeing all of them. But, she couldn’t seem to help looking over from time to time.

It wasn’t until he was starting to fold the paper, and she got a glimpse of the name at the top of what he’d been writing she got her first clue. Keagen Aislinn. She’d seen that name before. Along with a rather stirring diatribe in The Nation. She couldn’t believe that was Eamonn. He could be charming when he chose to be, but this had gone beyond that. It could see him transported if not hanged.

“Have care,” she murmured as she stepped past him. “I know your brother enjoys your presence.”

He met her gaze for a moment, awareness in those eyes. She’d been caught by them from the first moment she’d looked into them. But, he simply nodded after a moment and turned away.

What was he doing to her? Not even two months ago, she’d sworn she’d never let  a man control her. Now, she was being turned and twisted by two of them. No, she would not let it happen. Especially not for a man who seemed to be willing to risk being charged with sedition.

She definitely wasn’t going to let herself fall for him.


Today’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt was to use “ink” either as a noun or verb. Wasn’t quite sure what I was going to do at first. But, Eamonn decided to start speaking to me, or writing as it is. 😉 The Nation was actually an Irish newspaper that would have been published around this time, and by this time, several of the contributors had been transported to Australia for exactly what Eamonn is doing, which would be why he’s writing under an assumed name. 🙂


Stream of Consciousness Saturday: “Psst”


Maddix glanced over to the next rack of clothes from what he was pretending to look through. And there stood Maribel . Looking as bright and sweet and pretty as always. Damn it.

“What are you doing here, Mari?” he asked in a whispered hiss. “I’m on a stakeout.”

She covered a giggle with her hand. “And here I thought Dad had just sent you to try to figure out what Mom wants for Christmas.”

His lips were tempted to pull up into a smile. She always made him feel like doing that. But, it was a mistake. He knew it was. Going after the boss’s daughter would never be a smart decision. And Mark had done so much for him, he couldn’t betray him like that. “Like I said, I’m on a stakeout.”

Her eyes were still dancing above her hand. “If that’s what you want to call it, Mad. You know, you could have just come to me to get your answers. I actually talk to Mom. I know what she wants.”

Except talking to Maribel always led him to thoughts he knew he shouldn’t be having. Boss’s daughter. Keep your hands off your boss’s daughter. He could do that, couldn’t he? “I could have done that,” he finally said. “Why don’t we do it now. Want some coffee.”

She dropped her hand and he saw the grin that spread across her face. “That sounds wonderful, Maddix.”


Today’s Stream of Consciousness prompt was to use “psst or any other attention-getting word or sound”. Maddix and Maribel pushed their way into my head. if you’ve read some of my Jonas & Isaac pieces or snippets(on Wednesdays), you might recognize Maddix as Konner’s brother. Maribel has shown up on the edges of one or two earlier stories in the series. Her father(and older half-brother) is a private investigator and by Jonas & Isaac, Maddix has started working for him. I don’t know when I’ll get to their story, but they have been murmuring to me.

Stream of Consciousness: Arm

Desmund grabbed Eamonn’s arm, his fingers warm against Eamonn’s skin. There was no pleasure in the touch this time, though. “Do not go out there,” Desmund said.

“And why not?” Eamonn asked. “They are after my brother and me. You and your aunt should not be punished for harboring us. I will go. You can get out with Torin.”

“I do not want any harm to come to you!”

“Nor I you,” Eamonn said softly. “If they take me, I shall tell them that Torin is dead. That you and your great-aunt did not know who I truly was. You will be able to go free.”

“And what of you?” Desmund demanded. “What will they do to you?”

“It does not matter,” Eamonn said. “They will have me, and you can help my brother get away. Get away with him. That is what matters to me.”

“You matter to me!” Desmund shouted.

Eamonn tried to hush the other man, but when he tried to hold on to him, Desmund shoved him away. Sometimes he forgot just how strong Desmund was despite his wrecked leg.

“What does it matter if anyone knows? You will be lost to me no matter what you do. I do not want to live knowing I let you go to your death.”

“But, I should live with the same?” Eamonn asked, his voice cracking.

“I’ve survived before when I should have died. Go. I will keep them busy so you and Torin can get away. Do not worry for me. If I do not get away then it was my time. Maybe beyond it. Just stay free, and it will be worth it.”

“Des,” Eamonn murmured.

“Go,” Desmund insisted as voices rose into shouts outside again. “Go,” he said again even more forcefully this time. “Before they surround the house and you cannot.”

“Eamonn,” Torin called from the back of the cottage. “We must go.”

He looked between them, from his brother to the man he’d just thought he could be falling for, and chose. They were outside and to the barn when flames lit the night. “No,” he cried, lurching away from his brother. But, Torin pulled on his arm.

“We have to go,” his brother said. “We cannot let it be in vain.”

But, all Eamonn could do was stare at the burning cottage. Had Desmund gotten out before it went up? Or was he burning in there? Eamonn wasn’t sure he could bear the answer. Torin tugged on his arm again, and he realized his brother had already saddled both horses. “She told me to take both of them,” Torin said when Eamonn just gaped at him. “She knew they would not get away. Come on. We cannot do anything if we are dead.”

Eamonn clambered up into the saddle and they started away from the  burning cottage. But, Eamonn looked back once more. “I am sorry,” he whispered. “So sorry.”

It seemed all he would bring to anyone was destruction.


More from my NaNoWriMo project for this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday. The prompt was to use “arm”, either along or as part of another word. I’ve got both in this one. 🙂 And I can’t answer Eamonn’s questions yet, either. Desmund may show back up, but it won’t be until at least book 2. He was a surprise character, but Eamonn had already told me he was bisexual(though he wouldn’t have had that word). And since we’re in 1850s Ireland, yeah, they were kind of doomed to begin with. But, yeah, I’m hoping Desmund didn’t actually die in that fire.

Stream of Consciousness Saturday: “Shortcut/Cut Short”

“You cannot just take a shortcut to justice.”

“It is the only justice he will ever get,” Torin said as he continued to brush his mare’s coat.

“That does not mean it has to be you who brings it his way,” Eamonn argued. “You are all I have left, my brother. Do not take that from me as well.”

Torin firmed his jaw at the guilt that tried to seep into his bones. He couldn’t let his brother’s pleas turn him from this path. “He killed our parents. He destroyed everything we had. I cannot just let him get away with that.”

“I cannot take losing you, too. Not after–”

“Stop,” Torin cut short whatever else Eamonn was going to say. “It does not matter what you say. I am going, Eamonn. You will not stop me. Just leave it.”

Torin was sure his brother would argue some more, instead Eamonn turned and stalked away. They’d made a semi-shelter in what was left of the barn. Torin imagined he was going back there. It wouldn’t offer much protection, but they wouldn’t be able stay here for much longer anyway. Especially after he did what he planned.

“He’ll try to stop me again, Ceallach,” he told the mare. “we can’t let it happen. No one else will make him pay. It has to be me.”

The mare blew out a breath and turning her head, nudged his arm. He buried his face against her neck, taking comfort from her. Other than his brother, the horse was all he had left in the world.

Owen Curran had taken everything else from him. Torin would stop him before he did the same to anyone else. No matter what more it might cost him. He’d promised his father, and he would see it through now.


No, Jonas and Isaac this week. Sorry if you were looking forward to them. This week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt was to use shortcut/ cut short. And I decided to put this toward my goal on my NaNoWriMo project…after making sure shortcut was a term that would have been used in the 1850s(by the 1600s , so I’m safe). Now, I’m off to get more of those words. Torin has some revenge to get after all(though that won’t go quite the way he has planned).

Stream of Consciousness Saturday: Which/witch/wich

Which one is your sister?” Maddix asked from beside Jonas.

Jonas glanced over at him then back out toward the people crowding into the center. There were devils, superheroes, other things he couldn’t even make out. And there were the witches. His lips twitched. “I don’t think she bothered with a costume.”

Maddix narrowed his eyes then elbowed Jonas in the side. He was one of the few who’d never thought he had to treat Jonas carefully because of his leg. And Jonas appreciated that. “That’s not a nice thing to say about your own twin. She seems like a very nice person.”

“Who says witches can’t be nice?” Jonas asked, smiling a little. “It’s not nice to stereotype, Maddix. Don’t you know that?”

“Shut up,” he said, elbowing Jonas again. “You know me better than that.  And you’re the one that said it. Like I said, she seems nice.”

“I’m surprised you think that when she’s barely given you the time of day the last year. No matter how much you try to get her attention.”

Maddix shrugged a shoulder. “Not like she owes me anything. Doesn’t mean I can’t still try.”

“I thought Konner said you were into that Maribel anyway.”

Maddix scoffed. “Right. The boss’s daughter. I see that working out for me.”

Jonas felt Isaac slide up beside him, sandwiching him in. Not something he was going to complain about. “What are you guys talking about?” he asked.

“My love life,” Maddix grumbled. “Or lack of one. And I think that’s enough of that. I’ll see you around.”

Isaac laughed into the side of Jonas’ neck. “One way to get rid of him. I’ve been waiting to get you to myself tonight.”

Jonas knew there was still some time before they’d truly be able to do that. This party still had hours to go. But, he still slipped his hand into Isaac’s and held on to him for the moment.


This week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt was to Start your post with the word “which” and try to fit the word “witch” in somewhere if you can. Bonus points if you use a word that ends in “wich.” As an added rule this week, you will lose all the points you’ve ever earned if you type “which witch is which” anywhere in your post. Have fun! And that last rule made me really want to do just that. But, I resisted. 🙂 Instead you get a little more of Jonas & Isaac(which will come after the end of their story) and some set-up potential for Maddix’s story(if I ever get to it).

Stream of Consciousness Saturday – “Season”

“Cinnamon. Ginger. Cumin. That’s a good one.”

“What are you talking about?” Isaac asked, looking over at Jonas.

“You were talking about the perfect seasons. I was coming up for some good seasonings for you.”

Isaac laughed and tossed a pillow from the couch at his boyfriend. Is that what they were now? “You are such a goof sometimes.” Though it had been a long time since they’d fallen into this. He could only hope it was back for good. “And you know that wasn’t what I was talking about. Or have you been thinking about eating me? Should I be worried?”

Jonas laughed and sent him what Isaac had always dubbed his naughty smile. “I think about tasting you all the time.”

Isaac went to throw another pillow at him, but there weren’t anymore on his side of the couch. And Jonas twisted so he could press Isaac back against the arm of the couch. “Your mom,” Isaac said. “She’s in the kitchen. Your sister’s upstairs. Your other siblings will be here.”

“We have time for this,” Jonas said, pressing a hard kiss to his lips. When he pulled back, he was still grinning. “Yes, cinnamon would be a good seasoning for you.”


Well. I didn’t really know where that one was gonna go when I started it. Got a little warmer in here than I expected. *fans self* Today’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt was “season”, and it got a little spicy on me.

Stream of Consciousness Saturday: “Well”

Well, what do think?”

Jonas walked into the living room, keeping a hand on something at all times so he didn’t lose his balance. he wasn’t quite used to how this leg moved yet.

His mom, Toby, Tereza, and Arcelia were all sitting there. Catarina was the only one of his nieces and nephews, and she was barely paying any attention to him, stacking some blocks together. He saw his mother’s expression first, but she quickly covered it with a hand over her mouth. Still, he could clearly see the tears in her eyes.

Shit. He hadn’t wanted to make her cry. This was the day he’d been waiting for almost from the moment he’d woken up. Though at that time he’d thought it would mean getting back to duty. That wasn’t going to happen now. Still, it was nice to be able to get away from the crutches. So why was his mom so upset?

“It looks great,” his brother said. “How does it feel?”

“Great,” he repeated his brother’s word, his gaze flicking to each of his sisters. They looked like they were both about to cry, too. What had he done wrong? Weren’t they happy for him?

Then, Arcelia practically lunged at him, wrapping her arms around him. “It’s perfect,” she said. “You’re perfect. Because you’re still here. That’s all that matters to us.”

His mom was openly crying now, and he pushed his sister gently away to go to her. “mama,” he murmured. “I’m sorry. I thought…”

She pulled him down before he could even figure out exactly what he’d thought her reaction would be. “I am so happy. Do not be sorry. I was afraid. I did not think I’d ever see that smile on your face again. It is so good to see.”

Tears of relief. Not sorrow. he supposed he could handle that. This was only the first step in the new path for him. He still had to figure out what he was going to do with the rest of his life. But, he’d take the time to appreciate this. It was good. And hopefully in time everything would be as well.


Today’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt was to use “well”. I managed to start and end with it. This one should fit in right where I’m getting to in the notebook as I write Jonas & Isaac’s story.

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