Tenaru
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Nile threw up her hands. “You guys are all ‘love of my life’ this and ‘best beloved’ that, and now what, you want me to be extra-clear on how much of a giant war criminal your husband was?”
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- Part 2 of the past is always present
Bookmarked by Tenaru
23 Jan 2026
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“Ask me what you want to ask, Nile,” Nicky said. “It’s all right.”
Series
- Part 1 of the past is always present
Bookmarked by Tenaru
23 Jan 2026
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Nicolò was close to his own age, which meant he was well past his thirtieth year, and very handsome, anyone reasonable would have to admit that, and clean enough in his habits – well, these days, anyway – and pleasant in his manner, when he was not trying to kill anybody. Actually, Yusuf had noted that he could be quite polite even in battle. The point was, there was absolutely no reason he should be a virgin.
Bookmarked by Tenaru
23 Jan 2026
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Yusuf’s blindfold is removed, he sees the flash of a steel blade, and—in an instant—knows exactly where this is going to go.
They have found out what he is, and they want to know how.
So it is a surprise when he finds himself being shoved into a chair, and a ruddy, round-faced Venetian priest grabbing him by the shoulders, and bellowing at him in ecclesiastical Latin:
“Where is the lamp?”
Twenty-five years ago, Yusuf told Nicolò an old folk tale about a fisherman and a djinnī trapped in an oil lamp. Then they parted ways at Alexandria, leaving Yusuf heartbroken.
Now, as Tyre is captured by the Venetians after a long siege, Yusuf finds himself imprisoned in a tower by the sea for taking a stand. But who's been spreading rumours about an old oil lamp that belonged to Saint Nicholas?
Series
- Part 2 of Love Goes Out The Window
Bookmarked by Tenaru
16 Jan 2026
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Niccolò expects to finally be able to breathe, to start shedding the weight that has been crushing his shoulders since they had gotten Andromache’s urgent letter. As it is, all he can do is sit on one of two small cots and look up at Yusuf, who is slowly removing his drenched clothes and sorting through the few belongings he had brought over to England.
Yusuf, Niccolò would have called had he been calmer. Had he been less afraid. Sit with me. Just for a moment. He skips directly, clumsily, to the root of the matter instead.
“Should we ever be parted,” Niccolò says, his voice barely carrying over the storm, “should we ever be parted like this, I...I do not think you should keep searching for me that long.”
Bookmarked by Tenaru
13 Jan 2026