Blogging, Book Reviews, Guest Blogs and Featured Spotlights

Teaser Tuesday: The Icing on the Cake, #LoIsInDaBl

For this week’s

TEASER TUESDAY

I present to you, just days after Valentine’s Day, one of the sweetest, most romantic scenes I’ve ever read in literature:

***

Ginny looked up into Harry’s face, took a deep breath, and said, “Happy seventeenth.”

“Yeah … thanks.”

She was looking at him steadily; he however, found it difficult to look back at her; it was like gazing into a brilliant light.

“Nice view,” he said feebly, pointing toward the window.

She ignored this. He could not blame her.

“I couldn’t think what to get you,” she said.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

She disregarded this too.

“I didn’t know what would be useful. Nothing too big, because you wouldn’t be able to take it with you.”

He chanced a glance at her. She was not tearful; that was one of the many wonderful things about Ginny, she was rarely weepy. He had sometimes thought that having six brothers must have toughened her up.

She took a step closer to him.

“So then I thought, I’d like you to have something to remember me by, you know, if you meet some veela when you’re off doing whatever you’re doing.”

“I think dating opportunities are going to be pretty thin on the ground, to be honest.”

“There’s the silver lining I’ve been looking for,” shoe whispered, and then she was kissing him as she had never kissed him before, and Harry was kissing her back, and it was blissful oblivion, better than firewhisky; she was the only real thing in the world, Ginny, the feel of her, one hand at her back and one in her long, sweet-smelling hair–

The door banged open behind them and they jumped apart.

***

Was that more than a teaser?

I just love that scene, but one writing instructor I once had did not quite agree on it being one of the most romantic in all of literature.

🙂

I don’t know what page that would be in the print version, but in braille it comes from the final book in the Harry Potter series, (Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Volume Two, Page 169).

It may have something to do with the moment I read it for the first time, the place I might have been in my life back then.

I was always looking, at the heart of it, for the love story in a novel. When I read Lord of the Rings for the first time, after watching the movies, I couldn’t wait and I asked a friend who loved the books if there was more of a particular romance between Sam and Rosie.

Of course, Lord of the Rings has its romantic themes, but it is an adventure fantasy story overall. Let’s just say, this male friend thought me a little nuts for only wanting this one small storyline when there was so much else going on in that world.

Well, Harry Potter is definitely not a romance novel and I am no longer a teenager, that girl who that’s all I read. I learned to love the fantasy and epic adventure genre for what it is and I love Harry Potter for so many of its themes, but this was just the icing on the already amazing cake.

Standard
Blogging, Bucket List, Feminism, Guest Blogs and Featured Spotlights, Memoir Monday

Just Jot It January: leotards, romance, and snails #JusJoJan

I know I will be just one of many to write on how

elegance

seems to have escaped me, all the years of my life and I don’t anticipate that changing anytime soon.

I predict that will be the overlying opinion, as most wouldn’t admit just how elegant they really may be or have been at one time.

Or maybe they will tell a tale of a time they’ve felt most elegant in their own lives, like for prom, at a fancy party, or wedding of their own or someone else’s.

I wore dresses as a little girl, but hated the leotard. It made me extremely itchy.

I stopped wearing dresses after that, as I was small and then, suddenly, I wasn’t.

I am not necessarily saying a girl needs to wear a dress to be considered elegant, but it helps.

It’s one of those self image/body image things probably, but I realize I am not alone with that.

How do you really feel elegant anyway? What does it take? The proper amount of self image, the perfect dress, or for other people to acknowledge the level of elegance that radiates?

I always loved that song:

Lady In Red,

ever since I was young.

It felt like the most romantic song. Never mind it was about a lady in red, which just so happened to be my favourite colour, but the lady in the song seemed, in my opinion, to be the epitome of elegance.

Everyone wanted to dance with her. All the other guys were jealous. All this added up to the perfect romantic song, like a favourite fairy tale or romance novel.

But now, as we speak of elegance, the song comes back to me. I can’t be that, do not know how to become that, how to transform myself into anything resembling that.

I am more of a plain, regular, average home body kind of a girl. Of all the definitions I’ve read of elegance, that is not me. Even if I could transform into something even remotely close to that, it would be only for a short moment in time, and then it would be back to being plain old me.

Elegant equals fancy and I guess, if it comes to that, I would rather eat a pizza and a salad, instead of fish eggs and snails, but maybe, just once…

The rules for #JusJoJan are here.

Today’s

Just Jot It January, #JusJoJan

is brought to us by one fantastic blogger I’ve just discovered.

Forty, c’est Fantistique!

She is a pilot, plays the flute, learned French, and she cooks also. She is making her forties great.

This girl, in her thirties is now feeling inspired, with my plan to learn to play violin, starting on my birthday next month.

Standard