Oh, hmm, cheesy vic for me (adding because you edited) includes mal-formed cherubs, too dark, the pre-raphaelite curls, the smile, the lounging.

I didn't think vic, when I read it. That may be because it's out of context or it could be just me, which has been known to happen. I'm not exactly subtle girl.

And, you clearly stating the definition that went with it went right past my head.

edited (and again) because somehow half the post disappeared.

Heh. I always annex.

I love all that pre-Raph stuff. There isn't a single unembroidered inch in one of those swoony pictures, is there? Oh, lady of Shallot!

Actually, almost a sight gag, really. The blurb is a particularly grim and factual take on what an incubus is, and does, and they've partnered it with this swoony bit of "oooooh, do me, demon lover man".

Deena, rather like her but with a dark malformed demon, sporting a huge shlong, floating over her. Note the dainty little coy hint of nipple....

(editing again) dude, we are crossposting like mad things.

oh my god, that's perfect!

Funnily enough, when I read the first Amanda installment, I thought to myself, "OH! published! And she writes just like me!"

Then, when you asked if it was "too lyrical" as you'd heard that criticism before, I thought, "Lyrical? She gets lyrical? All I ever got was too wordy!" Then I had to slap myself and focus, and (of course) decide it wasn't too lyrical at all.

I suddenly want to see the picture of the demon with the huge schlong. It might help my somewhat semi-current project *g*

I never got "too lyrical" for mainstream stuff, so take heart. I was just wondering if Pensioner might not be too lyrical for fanfic, since I wasn't familiar with it at the time.

See, when I edit (Plei's beta is a good example), I always take it the same way: as if the author wanted a last pass before it went out the door to an agent or for a pub submission.

I suddenly want to see the picture of the demon with the huge schlong.

BWAH! See, the problem here is, they're dealing with a ghost. They know who the ghost is/was; they just can't figure out how in hell it's actually managing to damage anyone physically, since ghosts can't (take that, First Evil!), being noncorporeal.

So they go to a nice little bookshop in Hampshire to check out "ghosts who want to have sex with the living and suck all their life force out of them" and they come up with this demon, and the problem is, they aren't looking for a demon, they're looking for a particular flavour of ghost, and they don't even believe in demons. And they already know who this sod was when he was alive. So what in hell's he doing being a demon?

And the lady of Shallot dreamily spreadin' 'em for the Big Shlong Demon Guy doesn't exactly help.

... "Theirs was a fragile peace, broken by Fred and never fully reassembled"?

One can break a peace. (Also a piece, which was what I typed first.)

Rebecca, yup; my original specific edit was to match the two verbs. So, changing either one would work.

I'll admit, though, that the sheer mechanical feel of any version of that flavour of 'assembly" brings up pictures of all those old Warner Brothers 1950's cartoons, anything to do with industry - they all had this particular music and I wish to hell I could hum online, because you'd know exactly which ones I was talking about....

I always take it the same way: as if the author wanted a last pass before it went out the door to an agent or for a pub submission.

I'm not following why you said this?