So this week I’m reading Pale Queen Rising, by A.R. Kahler, in which an assassin from Faerie (who, despite being from Faerie, is not actually of Faerie) is charged by Queen Mab with finding out who is skimming off the top of her harvest of Dream. Which is, apparently, a little bit like skimming meth from Heisenberg. If you’re going to do it, do not get caught.
Are you sick of these yet?
“Robinton, you are indeed safely back,” Lessa cried, running toward him, a wide smile lighting her unusual face. “And so tanned!”
So this week I’m (shocker!) still reading the 800-odd-page long Dragonriders of Pern trilogy — I think I’m somewhere near the beginning of the second book, which begins about seven years after the end of the first one. Thread is still falling, dragons are still (mostly) burning it, and somebody has nice hair.