Friday, August 5, 2011

The Twigasm NICU (8/5/11)

This week on the NICU we are letting you know about another amazing story....

*CO-WINNER JUDGES' CHOICE: Curvaceous and Bodacious Contest* He took her on faith, and, with a pot of shamrock, she traveled to an unknown shore to become his wife. Rated M for future chapters. Collab w/ winterstale.

A Handsome Woman by Viola Cornuta and Winterstale is a fantastic piece.  This story is a pairing of Siobhan and Edward.  The magical quality of this piece is the breathtaking research that goes into each chapter.  When I read each update, I feel transported to the late 1800's.  I was very worried reading my first non-cannon pairing, but this was the sweetest way to have my cherry popped.  I fell in love with the hard working Edward (as I always do), but the lovely and fiery Siobhan, who is trying to do everything she can to please her new husband, just has me on the edge of my seat wondering what she will do next.  I developed a true concern and feel for these characters and really want to see it work out.  And of course it doesn't hurt that Edward has a Gaelic accent.

 What I enjoy most is the way these two are discovering their feelings for each other.  Edward wrote to his Irish Reverend looking for a bride and  who he received was the lovely Siobhan.  This is the story of their journey together, once they are married.  Read this exert for a little interaction from Chapter 4 when Mr. Cullen brings Mrs. Cullen a kitten:

"Mr. Cullen, are you a'right? Ye have a pained look aboot ye."

"Tis naught but a few scratches from wee Sally there. I carried her in m' shirt, an' she did have a bit of a conwranin' at me."

Siobhan stood, took up one of the remaining clean towels, and fetched Charlie Simcoe's ghastly homebrewed alcohol from under the dry sink. Ushering her husband by the window she sunk to her knees.

"A'right, then, take off yer shirt, Mr. Cullen."

"I beg yer pardon, Mrs. Cullen!" He looked down at her with wide eyes.

"D'nae fash y'self, I've nursed four brothers' wounds and Noreen - th' worst of them all, th' wee devil - and even m' Da when needs be. Ye took such fine care o' me with th' sunburn an' there's no difference from you looking after me. Now, I'll have a look at Miss Sally's handwork." She cast up a look that told him there was no argument in the matter.

Hot color bloomed in his cheeks as her husband unbuttoned his shirt. Without a word, Siobhan gazed up at him patiently, clear she expected him to unbutton the top half of his small clothes as well. Mr. Cullen sighed the sigh of a husband resigned to his wife's will, eased off his suspenders, the torn shirt, and began to unbutton the thin cotton undergarment, allowing it to fall and hang about the waist of his trousers.

"Dear oh dear, y'must hurt like the devil himself had a' ye!" Siobhan circled Mr. Cullen's body, skimming her fingers with great care over a tapestry of thin scratches and punctures wrapped right the way around him. Some appeared quite deep and wept blood, while others had already closed themselves. He flinched and hissed in spite of himself as she looked over the reddened, puffed claw marks, and Siobhan turned concerned eyes to him in sympathy. "Mr. Cullen, what agony. I'd wager ye'd thought aboot drownin' the little imp yerself afore the first furlong."

Mr. Cullen smiled half-heartedly and shrugged. " 'Tis not so bad." He started to right his clothing.

"Have ye ever raised a kitten, Mr. Cullen?"

"Nae raised one, t' be sure, but Mam had a cat I liked well enough."

"A grown cat is a different beast. Kittens are wee savages, and amongst the litter there's naught but tumble an' trouble an' scratchin' at each other. It will feel like hellfire once ye take t' cuttin' shingles in the afternoon sun. I won't remind ye, y' can take a fever from a cat's scratch."

"Aye, Mrs. Cullen."

"Best t' allow me t' give it a cleanse and cover ye wi' a clean cloth."

They regarded each other, silent and immovable, until finally Mr. Cullen chucked softly. "Ye speak t' truth, I ken, Mrs. Cullen. Have to yer doctorin' and I shall forbear." Siobhan wrinkled her nose up at him with a little smile and began to stand. When Mr. Cullen's hand stretched forth, she paused with a wary glance at it – and up to his face. "May I assist ye, Mrs. Cullen?"

His voice had gone quite low, likely due to their close proximity, and he shrugged a little at his wife. Palm to hers, he steadied her as she stood. To be true, Siobhan had no need of his help, but she did appreciate his kind gesture – and was glad of his sudden nearness. He'd a fine, strong chest with a good patch of dark hair like that on his head, and though they weren't thick with muscle like Liam's or especially Young Eamon's, Mr. Cullen's shoulders were just as broad. Siobhan made to look away, else she be deemed immodest in taking notice of her husband's lovely physique. When she came to her full height and looked to him again, his eyes were still upon her, and his smile hadn't withered, nor did she find she could take her own eyes away from his. Siobhan was so quick to recall her little daydream by the paddock fence she found herself struck dumb for words and action, a situation that she had scarce experienced.

This story is wonderful and I can't wait to see where it goes.  Take a few minutes and read it and show it some love from the NICU!

~Cullen Concession~



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