The Worst of Weather Guest Review

The Deviants are now in full swing. We have a full calendar and are super excited about things to come.
The first week of every month will be Guest Reviewer time...and here's our very first one.





MARIA2906 says:

Did you ever wonder how Edward and Bella’s relationship would have evolved if he could actually hear her thoughts?
Would he have continued to stay away from her physically if he could hear how much she wanted him?
Would he have left her regardless?
Would he have changed her if he saw through her thoughts how badly and sincerely she needed it?

The Worst of Weather answers these questions for us. YellowGlue creates a world of an intense and irrevocable love, and an overwhelming passion that will have you hyperventilating in no time!
The Cullens are vampires, and Bella has a very close relationship with them. Especially with Edward. From the moment they meet they share a very unique bond that slowly transforms into an endless love, and most importantly,...an uncontrollable need.
The twist here is that Edward can hear her thoughts.
And she knows it.
She sometimes uses it.

He craves her blood, her body, her everything. She needs him in ways that scare even her. But why is he holding back?
Why does he push her away?
How will he react to the fact that she has another man in her life now?

I cannot even describe the way my heart pounds like crazy every time these two are alone. I feel like if they would let their feelings take over, they would devour each other.
This story is a must read in my opinion. Bella is determined and passionate and knows exactly what she wants. Edward is mysterious and possessive, and oh so very hot!! It is only 9 chapters and it’s completed!

And the very best part?

YellowGlue is writing Rose like Thunder which is the same story, but from Edward’s Point of View! We get to dive into this mysterious man’s head and see just what he thinks and how he feels.
Lastly, just a little taste...

I felt his hands on my scalp, in my hair, at the back of my neck. Tilting my naked throat to his mercy.
I whimpered and blinked, but was too dizzy and drunk to keep my eyes open.
I felt him breathe in lungful after lungful as he pressed his nose into my collarbone. He twisted my head from left to right and back and forth again and made himself drunk too, on the smell of my blood.
"Soon," he whispered, kissing along my jaw line.
I'd gone from freezing to overheating against his icicle fingertips and lips and hips. "I will have you Isabella, all to myself. And you will know-"
Wet, open mouth kisses down my chin, over my neck. And I couldn't form words but if I could I would have continued to plead.
"Just what it means to beg."

Dihenydd says:

In a genre of almost half a million stories it is pure luck to come across a voice that is truly original. Yellowglue is. Her language is replete with sensuous overtones, evoking all our senses. You can almost taste this story.

“He nuzzled my neck all soft and sweet and I knew he was touching me and could see and hear everything but I couldn't help it: all I could think was sugar.
White chocolate.
French vanilla.
Sweet soft so cold slow churned dulce de leche ice cream.”

So unique is her style that she invents her own language. A language both startlingly sensual and painfully emotive.

The vampires of The Worst of Weather are slightly different from canon. The Cullen family consists of Carlisle, Esme, Edward and Alice; Jasper has only recently joined them. Bella had been unofficially adopted by them some years before; she is in her early 20’s now.

While at school Edward and Bella fell in love. However things went wrong somewhere, or maybe his feelings weren’t as strong as hers. Bella felt rejected and moved away to school needing to try and make a clean break. She is now in a relationship with Jacob.

None of the vampires have gifts but Edward can hear Bella’s thoughts when he is in skin to skin contact with her. She is also his singer. This gives rise to some achingly beautiful descriptions of the way she affects him. Her triple voice - that of her words, her thoughts and her blood all mingle together. Until I read this I never really empathized with his steadfast decision not to change her. These descriptions make it bitingly clear just what he would lose if he did. This is just part of an extremely erotic encounter where he literally gets drunk on the smell of her blood.

“His mouth was open against my windpipe and he was gasping in breath after breath, swallowing every other inhale. Greedy for my sanguine moonshine.
My heart was racing and I knew each beat hit him like a double shot of scotch, straight to the chest. But I couldn't help it. And he couldn't get enough.
He shifted his weight again and nudged my legs open with one of his. I could feel him, hard like a stone pressing against the inside of my thigh.
The game always had this effect, no matter how innocent it may have started on his part.
I whimpered again, louder. I tried to speak and to push him away, but he held me down easily. He breathed in deep from my left temple. Turned and twisted my head and neck. And had started to slowly, almost lazily grind his hips down against mine.”

The story begins with her arriving to spend the Christmas break with the Cullens believing that Edward will not be there. Of course he is.

It is clear that Bella is still obsessed with him. His feelings are less easy to define though. He seems to want it both ways. He wants her to belong to him but doesn’t seem to want to give her anything back, not his attention, not his time, and certainly not his affection beyond a certain point. He allows intimacy for a while just enough to get her (and us) really worked up and then denies her. Leaving her feeling hurt and rejected. He is snide, he is spiteful. Or is he? He certainly confuses the hell out of Bella.

She is crying out for affection and he seems to be continually winding her up and letting her down, making hurtful comments yet acting possessively. She copes by drinking and spends most of her time either drunk or stoned. The UST is tangible, it hums in the air between them.

We become consumed with Bella’s desperation, the agony of her desire and the humiliation of rejection as Edward continues to be aloof. Yet the story contains some of the sexiest lemons you will ever come across.

“I was shaking again, wondering if he could feel the butterflies in the pit of my tummy just under where his fingertips were playing all too softly. I blinked and caught a grin spread as my thought went through to him and he licked at my lips as I parted them once again for his entrance.
My body was writhing next to his, a wriggling wiggle worm of weakness and longing, aching for contact, pressure, friction he was refusing to give. He kissed his way across my cheek and turned my head to kiss along my neck and ear. Wet, open mouth kisses, sapless and suckling.
"Show me…" he whispered. His voice was heavy, commanding my ship.
I swallowed. Hesitated. Wanted kisses.
"Show me what you want Little One." His voice dropped, heavier. Fervent. Clear in what he wanted.
And in the instant he loosed his grip on my wrists; my hands flew between my legs like birds out of cage and my hips raised up off of the bed to meet them.
His smile curled and I could see his teeth; his sharp teeth, bared and beautiful. "Good girl…"”

He might not be what we think of as the classic Darkward - a callous killer - but he has many of the same qualities. He is arrogant, possessive, passionate, manipulative, predatory and ruthless as far as his own agenda is concerned. I can’t recommend this story highly enough.

Amelie Gee says:

I will always have to thank this story for introducing me to Darkward. Even though I always say that YellowGlue is an amazing author - in whatever she writes - the Edward of The Worst of Weather has to be her masterpiece. From the beginning, it's obvious that this isn't the controlled, polite Edward that Stephenie Meyer introduced to us in the Saga; Bella isn't thrilled at the idea of seeing him, she seems to be terrified.

Everything was fine. Had been fine – good even – for months now. School was fine. My painting was fine. The drive back to Forks was just fine.

And then I'd seen his car, that stupid, stupid car. And it turned everything inside and all around me totally topsy-turvy.

I sat still. Still far away from the other cars in the long driveway, right where I'd braked after turning in and spotting the Volvo. I sat still, but my mind was running away in ten different directions.

If I hadn't stopped to get that bottle of water then maybe I'd have beaten him here. Then he would have been the one to walk in surprised and find me mid-conversation with Esme instead of the other way around…

But instead I was here, alone, trying to catch my breath and composure.

He's not even supposed to be here! He's supposed to be in Prague on a work study! What the fuck?


He skulks throughout the story, always seeming to wait around the corner, one step ahead of Bella, confusing and utterly seductive. And though this Edward doesn't sample the wine, he has no qualms about getting drunk off the bouquet.

I felt his hands on my scalp, in my hair, at the back of my neck. Tilting my naked throat to his mercy.

I whimpered and blinked, but was too dizzy and drunk to keep my eyes open.

I felt him breathe in lungful after lungful as he pressed his nose into my collarbone. He twisted my head from left to right and back and forth again and made himself drunk too, on the smell of my blood.

It had been a favorite game of his for years, smelling me up this way.

Sometimes he got so intoxicated his words would begin to slur slightly and he would actually stumble upon standing.

He turned me about like a doll, and burrowed his nose into my hair. Each of my cheeks. My neck and shoulders, pulling the fabric of my shirt away where he wanted his nose against bare skin.

I hiccupped again, half a whine half a gasp as he shuffled his weight on top of me. My thoughts were all fuzzy and firewarmth and I couldn't focus on anything at all.

He twisted his long fingers back into my hair and made fists and pulled back, arching my throat to his good judgment once more.

Cut quick. Please make it quick. The thought flashed through my mind, pure adrenaline.

"Never."

His whisper was rough. He was all over my body and all inside my head. And I felt so exposed. So vulnerable underneath him.

I felt before I heard a low growl deep in his chest. His mouth was open against my windpipe and he was gasping in breath after breath, swallowing every other inhale. Greedy for my sanguine moonshine.

Thanks to Amelie for the video and Bettigefecht for the banner.

THE WORST OF WEATHER ON FF.NET

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