Dragon Quill

Last time, concussion. Today, we learn Harry did indeed pass out! (more…)

Last time, Harry got dragged to his house by Murphy. He kept thinking he was forgetting something, but ended up falling asleep because concussion. (more…)

Last time, yes, this book is this terrible. Today, can it get worse? Yes. Yes, it fucking can. (more…)

Last time, the love potion business. Today,

As it turned out, Linda Randall had a darn good reason for skipping out on our appointment Saturday night.
Linda Randall was dead.

As was inevitable. She had casual sex and knew precisely how attractive she was. (more…)

Last time, Harry is terrible.

Today, Harry continues to make it all about him.

my thoughts and emotions a far more furious thunderstorm than the one now rolling away from the city, out over the vastness of the lake
…
I had lost Murphy’s trust. It didn’t matter that I had done what I had to protect both her and myself.
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And I wasn’t sure that, even if I found the person or persons responsible, even if I worked out how to bring them down, even if I did Murphy’s job for her, that what had happened between us could ever be smoothed over

Yes, Harry, even if [you] did Murphy’s job for her she’s probably not going to be happy, because she doesn’t want you to do her job for her in the first place so that’s just going to piss her off even further. (more…)

Have you ever felt despair? Absolute hopelessness? Have you ever stood in the darkness and known, deep in your heart, in your spirit, that it was never, ever going to get better? That something had been lost, forever, and that it wasn’t coming back?
That’s what it felt like, walking out of the Varsity, walking out into the rain.

Yes, this is over the hair, not the actual people who are actually dead. (more…)

So last time I talked about magic in a world that’s otherwise ours, and how it’s extremely difficult to make work. Today I’ll tackle a similarly difficult thing:

“It’s not that the book is sexist, it’s just the character is.” (more…)

Harry takes a cab to his client’s house. You know, for someone whose magic supposedly wrecks cars, he’s sure riding in a lot of them without issue. You’d think every cabbie would have his photo with DO NOT PICK UP THIS MAN scrawled over it. Or a sketch, if photos don’t work either. (more…)

Last time, Harry decided everything was a woman’s fault and forced his way into her home. (more…)

So last time, Harry, having insisted that he had to lie to everyone because no one could help has this flaw backfire…on Murphy.

Harry, being all white knighty, is now rushing back to his office so he can rescue her from something that wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t decided to pick every last asshole response in the dialogue tree.

Point is, Murphy has been damseled good. (more…)

So the reason this is so late is because it’s a terrible chapter, I wrote it up twice, lost it both times, and needed a good sulk at the world’s unfairness before I could get back to it.

When last we left Our Hero, he’d crushed a giant magic undead scorpion and I was explaining how crushed is still usable, go scrape up some scorpion chunks for your spell. (more…)

Last time, the storm has arrived and yet Harry is still not dead. (more…)

So hey guys. We are nearing the end of this terrible thing, and you’ve produced foefic and not all of you want to post it yourselves for some mysterious reason. Roarke’s said to post theirs, so I’d like to extend that offer to the rest of the snippets – stick them together in a mass of gay and evil and/or incompetent Harry, credited to you by name or as anonymous not wanting to admit their shameful fanficing. Comment if you approve of us polluting the fandom together. It’ll be on AO3, so I can add your name when you change your mind and accept you fanficced and are now a fanficcer forever and ever and ever and want your deserved credits.

And of course, anyone else who’s already posted should mention it about now so we can all kudos you.

Back to the thing I’m slogging through,

The Sight of Victor’s lake house will always be with me. It was an abomination.

Harry’s still on about this, and he’s still being boring as fuck about it. (more…)

Last time, Harry finally bothers to confront the guy he was hired to find at the start of the book. (more…)

Final chapter! And no, I still don’t know what’s up with 27 chapters popping up all the time.

Morgan’s face was over mine, and I realized he’d been giving me CPR. Eww.

Harry really needs to have one of those wrist bracelets: Allergic to non-hot-chick CPR, may provoke fatal attack of no homo.

“I did what I could,” Morgan said, “but there were no hot chicks around and I had to respect his wishes. Let us take consolation in the fact he died as he lived: stupidly.” (more…)