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Imaginary Kings

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Bryn Hammond

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“Have you ever looked at the bud of a magnolia flower? It’s a tight little pod that stays closed up for a long time on the end of its branch until one day, out of nowhere, it finally bursts open into this gigantic, gorgeous, fragrant flower that’s ten times bigger than the bud itself. It’s impossible to imagine that such a big beautiful thing could pop out of that tiny little bud. But it does.”

Magnolias
Book:The Magnolia Story
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“We shoot our heroes and enjoy peripeteia as a spectacle akin to sport and perhaps harshly disavowing the past protects us from the disappointment of our outsized hopes--who knows, really, but shifts in taste don't fully account for the phenomenon. At any rate, nearly everything urgent and alive becomes doo-wop down the road, at least in this country's pop culture, and along the way a somewhat self-hating irony lays waste not only to the work but to the desires it once carried. It's like we die into adulthood.”

InnocencePop CultureInnocence LostInnocence And Age
Author:Charles D'Ambrosio
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“The face Isaac made when bonding with his aluminum toy would have made you smile. The innocence of it. It was one of those mind-lending activities that make us like people—like spying on someone playing the piano or solving a puzzle. Every person looks like a child when de-seeding a pomegranate. If you watch someone open a juice box, however old, you’ll see them young again—their soft, wondering face. It’s one of the most ephemeral beauties for the eyes to partake in.”

ReflectionAttractionInnocenceMaturityAdolescenceGetting OldThe Goodbye SongImmaturityBeing A KidInnocence And Age
Book:The Goodbye Song
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“What password were you given?" "Éloa." He sucked in a breath. Chase had given her carte blanche at the club. Access to any room, any event, any adventure she wanted, without chaperone. Without him. "What does it mean?" she asked, registering his surprise. "It means I'm going to have words with Chase." "I mean, what does Éloa mean?" He narrowed his gaze, answered her literally. "It's the name of an angel." Penelope tilted her head, thinking. "I've never heard of him." "You wouldn't have." "Was he a fallen angel?" "She was, yes." He hesitated, not wanting to tell her the story, but unable to stop himself. "Lucifer tricked her into falling from heaven." "Tricked her how?" He met her gaze. "She fell in love with him." Penelope's eyes widened. "Did he love her?" Like an addict loves his addiction. "The only way he knew how." She shook her head. "How could he trick her?" "He never told her his name.”

NamesLuciferFallen AngelPenelope And MichaelEloa
Book:A Rogue by Any Other Name
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“The King of Hell was everything they said he was, both less and more. He was reputed to have the ability to seduce an abbess or the pope himself, and she could see why. It wasn't his physical beauty, which was considerable. He had dark blue eyes behind a fringe of ridiculously long lashes, pale, beautiful skin, the kind of mouth that could bring despair and delight- and what the hell was she doing, thinking about such things? He looked younger than his reputed age, around forty, and while his long dark hair was streaked with silver it only made him seem more leonine, more dangerous. He was tall, and he moved with an elegant grace that put dancers to shame. He was standing far too close to her, to the gun she'd stolen from Jacobs while he was busy with the carriage, and he was looking at her with far too much interest and absolutely no fear.”

Masculine BeautySeducerDark KingFrancis Rohan
Book:Ruthless
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“As she had stated earlier, he wasn't an animal. Well, he was, but there was a side of him that was more than instinct as well. There was the strategist, and soon, there would be the seducer. No battle was won purely with a show of strength, he told himself as he left her room, closing the door quietly behind him. Every battle won was done so with the right strategy as well as the proper weapons. He simply had to determine when and where to begin the first skirmish.”

JonasSeducerFirst Skirmish
Book:Lion's Heat
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“At first glance, the stewardess appears to have been a reflection of conservative postwar gender roles—an impeccable airborne incarnation of the mythical homemaker of the 1950s who would happily abandon work to settle down with Mr. Right. A high-flying expert at applying lipstick, warming baby bottles, and mixing a martini, the stewardess was popularly imagined as the quintessential wife to be. Dubbed the “typical American girl,” this masterful charmer—known for pampering her mostly male passengers while maintaining perfect poise (and straight stocking seams) thirty thousand feet above sea level—became an esteemed national heroine for her womanly perfection. But while the the stewardess appears to have been an airborne Donna Reed, a closer look reveals that she was also popularly represented as a sophisticated, independent, ambitious career woman employed on the cutting edge of technology. This iconic woman in the workforce was in a unique position to bring acceptance and respect to working women by bridging the gap between the postwar domestic ideal and wage work for women. As both the apotheosis of feminine charm and American careerism, the stewardess deftly straddled the domestic ideal and a career that took her far from home. Ultimately, she became a crucial figure in paving the way for feminism in America.”

FeminismStewardessStewardesses
Book:The Jet Sex: Airline Stewardesses and the Making of an American Icon
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