France – Twirling Book Princess

Weekly Quote for Week 2-2021 ~ Anna and the French Kiss

January 10, 2021 Mehsi Comments 0 Comment

“A moment of reserve. “That was it? The whole story?”
“Yes. God, you’re right. That was pants.”
I sidestep another aggressive couscous vendor. “Pants?”
“Rubbish. Crap. Shite.”
Pants. Oh heavens, that’s cute.”

Review for Versailles of the Dead, Vol.1

November 6, 2020 Mehsi Comments 4 comments

Welcome to the French Revolution, with characters you may know, conspiracies and murder plots run wild… but there is more that is running wild… zombies. Yep. Nom nom, will eat your brain.

Read More Read More

October Horror Mystery Month Fest ~ Creepy Cover Edition ~ Day 2 ~ Versailles of the Dead

October 2, 2020 Mehsi Comments 0 Comment

Versailles of the Dead, Vol. 1, Zombies, Versailles, Historical Fiction, Kumiko Suekana, Skull, Girl, Marie Antoinette, Swords, Horror, Manga

Friday’s Page 69 ~ The Court of Miracles

August 21, 2020 Mehsi Comments 0 Comment

“Stop crying,” I say shortly, and grab Ettie’s hand. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” she sniffles.
I smile. A smile that she should never trust.
“Somewhere he will not be able to find you,” I say, which is only partly a lie.
We rush down a tangle of back streets, keeping to the shadows.
She’s breathless and struggling along behind me, but at least she’s stopped crying.
She thinks I’m going to save her. When I’m sending her to a fate worse than the seven hells.
But sometimes we must pay a terrible price to protect the things we love.

Friday’s Page 69 ~ Anna and the French Kiss

February 14, 2020 Mehsi Comments 0 Comment

I give him a doubtful look, and the unicorn pillow flies at my head. I slam it back, and he grins, slides off the bed, and smacks me full force. I grab for it but miss, and he hits me again twice before letting me catch it. St. Clair doubles over in laughter and I whack him on the back. He tries to reclaim it, but I hold on and we wrestle back and forth until he lets go. The force throws me onto the bed, dizzy and sweaty.
St. Clair flops down beside me, breathing heavily. He’s lying so close that his hair tickles the side of my face. Our arms are almost touching. Almost. I try to exhale, but I no longer know how to breathe. And then I remember I’m not wearing a bra.