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The Lord John Books and Other Stories


Athena
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I was watching CBS Sunday Morning this morning and one of the bits they do is show the top five hardback best sellers from the New York Times best seller list.  Diana's latest story collection -- Seven Stones to Stand or Fall -- was #5 on the list!

Here's what iTunes has to say about it:

Quote

“The Custom of the Army” begins with Lord John Grey being shocked by an electric eel and ends at the Battle of Quebec. Then comes “The Space Between,” where it is revealed that the Comte St. Germain is not dead, Master Raymond appears, and a widowed young wine dealer escorts a would-be novice to a convent in Paris. In “A Plague of Zombies,” Lord John unexpectedly becomes military governor of Jamaica when the original governor is gnawed by what probably wasn’t a giant rat. “A Leaf on the Wind of All Hallows” is the moving story of Roger MacKenzie’s parents during World War II. In “Virgins,” Jamie Fraser, aged nineteen, and Ian Murray, aged twenty, become mercenaries in France, no matter that neither has yet bedded a lass or killed a man. But they’re trying. . . . “A Fugitive Green” is the story of Lord John’s elder brother, Hal, and a seventeen-year-old rare book dealer with a sideline in theft, forgery, and blackmail. And finally, in “Besieged,” Lord John learns that his mother is in Havana—and that the British Navy is on their way to lay siege to the city.

Filling in mesmerizing chapters in the lives of characters readers have followed over the course of thousands of pages, Gabaldon’s genius is on full display throughout this must-have collection.

I'm delighted for Diana but I've already read all but the last two stories listed above, so they must have been included in previous short story collections or I bought them individually somehow.  I don't know if I'll pony up the money for the whole collection just to read those two.  Maybe my local library will get a copy.

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The reason for Seven was to have the five previously released Lord John stories published in hard form together (as those had been available in ebook form) but weren't collected in hardback. Everyone gets the two new stories in both the US/Canada and the U.K. versions. 

I'm glad that it's off to such a great start. Still think it lays the groundwork for a LJG spinoff at some point with David Berry. 

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They aren't all LJG stories - there's the one about Roger's parents (which, for some weird reason I can't make myself read), the one about Joan, Michael, Master Raymond & the evil Compte and the one about Ian & Jamie as mercenaries.  

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#DailyLines  #JustforSomethingALittleDifferent #UntitledPrequel#BrianAndEllen  #ThisisBrianDhu  #NOyouarentgettingitanytimesoon#Haudyourwheesht  #BonnieLad

Spoiler

 

“Find me the hoof-pick, will ye, son?” His fingers were already prying at the stone, but his mind wouldn’t fix—just the word “son,” and the fear rose up under his ribs. Maybe he’d have _another_ son today, what a strange thought. Or it might be another daughter. Or—

“The pick, Willie!” he said sharply, choking the thought before it could take shape. 

“Ye’re holdin’ it, Da,” Willie said impatiently. He was sitting on the fence, kicking his heels and glancing up at the house now and then. Brian had brought him out to the far paddock because you couldn’t hear anything from the house from here, but Willie’s small red brows were drawn together—_God, just like Ellen’s, Oh, God, please_…and his wee face pinched, as though he was listening hard.

“Oh.” Brian gazed blankly at the instrument in his hand, then shook his head to clear it, and flicked the pebble loose with one dig. “Ken any songs, Willie?”

Willie concentrated even harder for a moment, but then tilted his head to one side and the other, and started singing. He knew about half of “[ ],” the first verse of “[ ]”—which he repeated several times while trying to think of something else, and a very decent try at the Kyrie from Mass.

Brian let the horse go and lifting Willie off the fence, taught him the chorus to “_Ho ro, mo nighean_…” which involved a lot of stamping and clapping, though their clogs didn’t make much noise on the earth of the paddock.

This did take their minds off things for a bit, but when they stopped, panting, Willie looked up at him and asked plaintively, “Are we gettin’ no supper at all, Da?”

He turned involuntarily to look back at the house. The kitchen chimney stood tall and cold, though there was smoke from the other end of the house, from their bedroom hearth.

“I suppose Mrs. MacLaren is busy helpin’ your mam,” he said, swallowing a lump at the word “mam.” He took a deep breath and steeled himself. “Come on, then, _a bhailach_, we’ll go and see what’s in the pantry.”

Willie was far too big to be carried, but Brian had a sudden strong urge to pick his son up and hold him tight, taking comfort in the boy’s solid warmth.


 

 

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1 hour ago, WatchrTina said:

#DailyLines  #JustforSomethingALittleDifferent #UntitledPrequel#BrianAndEllen  #ThisisBrianDhu  #NOyouarentgettingitanytimesoon#Haudyourwheesht  #BonnieLad

  Reveal hidden contents

 

“Find me the hoof-pick, will ye, son?” His fingers were already prying at the stone, but his mind wouldn’t fix—just the word “son,” and the fear rose up under his ribs. Maybe he’d have _another_ son today, what a strange thought. Or it might be another daughter. Or—

“The pick, Willie!” he said sharply, choking the thought before it could take shape. 

“Ye’re holdin’ it, Da,” Willie said impatiently. He was sitting on the fence, kicking his heels and glancing up at the house now and then. Brian had brought him out to the far paddock because you couldn’t hear anything from the house from here, but Willie’s small red brows were drawn together—_God, just like Ellen’s, Oh, God, please_…and his wee face pinched, as though he was listening hard.

“Oh.” Brian gazed blankly at the instrument in his hand, then shook his head to clear it, and flicked the pebble loose with one dig. “Ken any songs, Willie?”

Willie concentrated even harder for a moment, but then tilted his head to one side and the other, and started singing. He knew about half of “[ ],” the first verse of “[ ]”—which he repeated several times while trying to think of something else, and a very decent try at the Kyrie from Mass.

Brian let the horse go and lifting Willie off the fence, taught him the chorus to “_Ho ro, mo nighean_…” which involved a lot of stamping and clapping, though their clogs didn’t make much noise on the earth of the paddock.

This did take their minds off things for a bit, but when they stopped, panting, Willie looked up at him and asked plaintively, “Are we gettin’ no supper at all, Da?”

He turned involuntarily to look back at the house. The kitchen chimney stood tall and cold, though there was smoke from the other end of the house, from their bedroom hearth.

“I suppose Mrs. MacLaren is busy helpin’ your mam,” he said, swallowing a lump at the word “mam.” He took a deep breath and steeled himself. “Come on, then, _a bhailach_, we’ll go and see what’s in the pantry.”

Willie was far too big to be carried, but Brian had a sudden strong urge to pick his son up and hold him tight, taking comfort in the boy’s solid warmth.

 

 

 

Diana tweeted this evening that this passage was written a couple of years ago, and replied to another tweet that the "Prequel" won't be finished before "Bees" (aka Book 9). JSYK.

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#DailyLines  #Instruction  #InWhichLordJohnTakesHusbandLessons

Diana wrote (on Facebook) the following:  

Quote

You know the bit in Episode 304 where Jamie expresses astonishment that Lord John intends to marry? (“To a woman?” “I think there are not many alternatives.”) And in answer to Jamie’s doubts, Lord John assures him that, “I made trial of my capacities in London. Be assured, I will make her an adequate husband.” All of that is straight from the book (VOYAGER).

To which end, Lord John goes to visit Nessie (aka Agnes), the young Scottish madam of a London bawdy house, who has assisted him with discreet investigations now and then, and is something of a friend. I.e., she knows what his personal preferences actually are, though that isn’t the cause of the whores’ hilarity. This is an excerpt from Lord John’s next novel (following THE SCOTTISH PRISONER)—and NO, I’m not taking time away from Book Nine to write it. I wrote this bit about five years ago; when bits of different things bubble up, I write them down.

Excerpt below: 

Spoiler

"Ye want what?" Nessie's sharp little face was studiously blank, bar a delicately arched dark brow.

"You heard me, madam."

"Well, aye, I did," she admitted, mouth twitching. "I want to hear ye say it again, though. No, wait." She reached for a small brass bell--shining with polish--and rang it, this resulting in the prompt appearance of two barefoot young women attired in shifts and shawls.

"Now," she ordered. "Say it again. I want Janie and Susan to hear it."

The two whores turned faces of studied anticipation upon him, ready to be impressed. He took a deep breath.

"I desire instruction," he said, keeping a grip on his temper, "on the art of pleasing a woman. In bed."

Janie and Susan stared at him, open-mouthed, then turned to each other, and burst into giggles. Nessie lost her grip on her dignity and joined them, the hilarity she had been suppressing bubbling to the surface like swamp gas.

"I fail entirely to see what is so amusing," Lord John said coldly. This statement caused them to howl with laughter, tears streaming down their cheeks.

"Oh, God," Nessie said, wiping her nose inelegantly on her sleeve and sniffing. "Jesus, Mary, and Bride. I never thought to hear anything like...like..."

"There are other houses, you know," he pointed out. "Would you prefer that I take my custom elsewhere?"

Several hands shot out and fastened themselves to his person with astonishing speed.

"That's all right, my lover," cooed one of the young women, her slender fingers busy with his waistcoat buttons. "I'll take good care of you, I will."

"I want him!" protested her companion, dropping to her knees and staking a claim upon the flies of his breeches. He grabbed her hand just before she got inside.

"I am extremely flattered, madam," he said politely, "but--"

"I'll take him," said Nessie, with authority. Janie and Susan moaned in disappointment, but obediently released their grip on his clothes.

"What?" Grey said, incredulous. "What about your husband?" Rab McNab was a chairman by profession, possessed of the physique and endurance of a bull--which animal he strongly resembled, particularly in terms of his temper.

"Why, it's no but a matter of business, now, is it?" Nessie said blandly. "Ye do mean to pay, aye?"

With the distinct feeling that the price might be considerably higher than he had anticipated, he nodded.

"Well, then," she said, and a brilliant smile lit her face. Janie had got his neckcloth off; Nessie put out a delicate finger and drew it slowly down the length of his nakedly vulnerable neck. Gooseflesh rose at once in its wake.

"No reason not to mix business wi' pleasure, now is there?"

Edited by WatchrTina
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5 minutes ago, WatchrTina said:

#DailyLines  #Instruction  #InWhichLordJohnTakesHusbandLessons

Diana wrote (on Facebook) the following:  

Excerpt below: 

  Hide contents

 

"Ye want what?" Nessie's sharp little face was studiously blank, bar a delicately arched dark brow.

"You heard me, madam."

"Well, aye, I did," she admitted, mouth twitching. "I want to hear ye say it again, though. No, wait." She reached for a small brass bell--shining with polish--and rang it, this resulting in the prompt appearance of two barefoot young women attired in shifts and shawls.

"Now," she ordered. "Say it again. I want Janie and Susan to hear it."

The two whores turned faces of studied anticipation upon him, ready to be impressed. He took a deep breath.

"I desire instruction," he said, keeping a grip on his temper, "on the art of pleasing a woman. In bed."

Janie and Susan stared at him, open-mouthed, then turned to each other, and burst into giggles. Nessie lost her grip on her dignity and joined them, the hilarity she had been suppressing bubbling to the surface like swamp gas.

"I fail entirely to see what is so amusing," Lord John said coldly. This statement caused them to howl with laughter, tears streaming down their cheeks.

"Oh, God," Nessie said, wiping her nose inelegantly on her sleeve and sniffing. "Jesus, Mary, and Bride. I never thought to hear anything like...like..."

"There are other houses, you know," he pointed out. "Would you prefer that I take my custom elsewhere?"

Several hands shot out and fastened themselves to his person with astonishing speed.

"That's all right, my lover," cooed one of the young women, her slender fingers busy with his waistcoat buttons. "I'll take good care of you, I will."

"I want him!" protested her companion, dropping to her knees and staking a claim upon the flies of his breeches. He grabbed her hand just before she got inside.

"I am extremely flattered, madam," he said politely, "but--"

"I'll take him," said Nessie, with authority. Janie and Susan moaned in disappointment, but obediently released their grip on his clothes.

"What?" Grey said, incredulous. "What about your husband?" Rab McNab was a chairman by profession, possessed of the physique and endurance of a bull--which animal he strongly resembled, particularly in terms of his temper.

"Why, it's no but a matter of business, now, is it?" Nessie said blandly. "Ye do mean to pay, aye?"

With the distinct feeling that the price might be considerably higher than he had anticipated, he nodded.

"Well, then," she said, and a brilliant smile lit her face. Janie had got his neckcloth off; Nessie put out a delicate finger and drew it slowly down the length of his nakedly vulnerable neck. Gooseflesh rose at once in its wake.

"No reason not to mix business wi' pleasure, now is there?"

 

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