Lord John and the Brotherhood of the Blade

Am dying to read Diana's new book, Lord John and the Brotherhood of the Blade- which is a long and ungainly title completely unsuited to the character!

I did attempt to read her Outlander series but found very little interest in whatever happens to Jamie and Claire- she being a time traveller who experiments on patients with moldy bread and him being a Scottish laird who got banged molestedharassed by a sadistic English Gentleman pretty much means I have nothing left to amuse myself with.

John Grey however, is a very different story.

Not being the aforementioned Englishman, he is nonetheless A English Gentleman; handsome, mannered and gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide.

But even if he weren't, I think I'd still love him for his dry wit.

It is as if he observes 18th Century England and is constantly amused by what he sees. His inner commentary are a hoot; I will never forget him describing (to himself, of course) another man's pursed mouth as a dog's anus.

Excerpt ninja'd from Legends II Lord John and the Succubus:
A knock sounded on the door, and he froze, irritation vanishing upon the moment. What to do? Pretend he wasn't in, was the obvious course, in case it was Louisa, in her sheer lawn shift or something worse. But if it were Stephan, come either to apologize or to demand further explanation?

The knock sounded again. It was a good, solid knock. Not what one would expect of a female-particularly not of a female intent on dalliance. Surely the Princess would be more inclined to a discreet scratching?

The knock came again, peremptory, demanding. Taking an enormous breath and trying to still the thumping of his heart, Grey jerked the door open.

"I wish to speak to you," said the Dowager, and sailed into the room, not waiting for invitation.

"Oh," said Grey, having lost all grasp of German on the spot. He closed the door and turned to the old lady, instinctively rebuttoning his shirt.

She ignored his mute gesture toward the chair, but stood in front of the fire, fixing him with a steely gaze. She was completely dressed, he saw, with a faint sense of relief. He really could not have borne the sight of the Dowager en déshabille.

Ah, Johnny, when will you cease to amuse me.
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