You’ve come to me so often. When I dreamed sometimes. When I lay in fever. When I was so afraid and so lonely I knew I must die. When I needed you, I would always see ye, smiling, with your hair curling up about your face. But ye never spoke. And ye never touched me.
valid criticism of tigerheart’s shadow: i really wish the erins were capable of writing romance in a way that wasn’t the same tired, forced bullshit we’ve gotten since graystripe & silverstream. the visions and prophecies are incredibly hamfisted and, as usual, the pacing is either painfully slow or rushed. none of the characters are behaving like they have in previous books just because the erins need them to fit into this plot and also have no ability to write good consistent characters. dovewing’s disinterest in/fear of having children at all is tossed aside so she can fill the erins favorite hysterical mother role. tigerheart transforms into the erins boring, proud conflicted dad in less than two seconds. the first chapter is all summary and even though we keep being told the clans might disband– the reader can’t really feel the tension in the writing. crowfeather is deputy and still relevant, for some inane reason. tigerheart, rowanstar, and tawnypelt never mention dawnpelt once. dawnpelt’s boring sons don’t mention her once. nobody seems to actually be grieving any of the dead characters, making the setting/timing of the book feel even flatter than the other avos books.
the fandom’s same tired criticism of tigerheart’s shadow: ooooh i hate dovewing! she’s so selfish! dovetiger sucks even though its identical to every other erins canon romance. brambleclaw3– i mean, tigerheart is so annoying. i want to go back to the kate and cherith read watership down once arc!
“Look, memory can change the shape of a room. It can change the colour of a car and memories can be distorted. They’re just an interpretation. They’re not a record. They’re irrelevant if you have the facts.”
I feel like Eve,” I said softly, watching the moon set behind him, over the dark of the forest. “Just on the edge of the Garden of Eden.”
There was a small snort of laughter from the vicinity of my navel. “Aye, and I suppose I’m Adam,” Jamie said. “In the gateway to Paradise.”
He turned his head to look wistfully across the creek toward the vast unknown, resting his cheek on the slope of my belly. “I only wish I knew was I coming in, or going out?”
I laughed myself, startling him. I took him by both ears then, urging him gently up across the slippery expanse of my naked flesh.
“In,” I said. “I don’t see an angel with a fiery sword, after all.”
He lowered himself upon me, his own flesh heated as with fever, and I shivered under him. “No?” he murmured. “Aye, well, you’ll no be looking close enough, I suppose.”
Then the fiery sword severed me from consciousness and set fire to my body. We blazed up together, bright as stars in the summer night, and then sank back burnt and limbless, ashes dissolved in a primordial sea of warm salt, stirring with the nascent throbbings of life.
Claire and Jamie Fraser, Drums of Autumn, Chapter Two
Another negative experience was, uh, I dressed in drag. Which doesn’t sound so bad on the face of it, but it was the first year I was with my girlfriend, now my wife, we were 16 years old and it was our first Halloween […] I was very pretty. There was like a Halloween dance at our high school, and some of my male classmates did not recognize me and were hitting on me, and Vicki was not pleased and she said, ‘Do not do that again.’