Thanks! Questions 5,6, and 7 I’ve answered elsewhere but 7 I’m going to answer again because I have a few other things I love to share.

7. Favorite description or bit of narration: 

The sight took his breath away. James Flint was laughing – really, truly laughing, and it took years off his face, smoothed out lines and created others around his eyes in a truly fascinating way. Mr. De Groot was standing, looking puzzled, and Flint bent at the waist, resting his hands on the tops of his thighs to keep himself from falling over at whatever had been said. He was – Jesus, he was happy, in a way that Silver had never seen since he had come on board the Walrus for the first time. – Cure for Sorrow, Chapter 3

He looks at her, and she cannot speak, only gather him to her, his head resting against her shoulder as his shoulders shake and he lets out a small sob. This cannot last more than a few months. Please, dear God, it cannot, because she cannot let him keep doing this to himself for any longer than that – cannot keep asking him to sacrifice heart and soul in the name of the man they both love. – Four for a Boy, Chapter 1

He leaned against the wall, and felt Miranda place one hand on his arm, drawing him closer until finally he pulled her into an embrace, hands shaking, and she allowed it, her head resting against his shoulder and hands gently clutching at his shirt, nails lightly scratching against his skin beneath it. They stood, silently holding onto one another for a long moment, and then he drew away, giving her a tired smile. – They That Sow the Wind, Chapter 9

For a moment, she appeared nonplussed. The expression was gone almost as quickly as it had come, but it had been there – a moment of surprise, followed by pleasure at being consulted. She had not been expecting the question, he realized – too used to being overlooked. Miranda had more than once complained of the same, enough that he recognized the moment for what it was. – They That Sow the Wind Chapter 10

It was, he knew, one of the man’s regular haunts, although in past years it had not been so much accustomed to his presence when he elected to spend the night talking with one of his officers while not at sea. Now, though, Hennessey’s table had a rather… lived-in look that suggested that he had been sitting there for some time. His hat sat at the table next to him, and there was an empty bottle sitting nestled in a corner, while its twin, still largely full, sat by the Admiral’s elbow. He was sitting, staring into the distance, and Isaac winced when he realized that no glass accompanied either bottle, the Admiral apparently having reverted to his less gentlemanly roots to drink straight from the bottle. – Chapter 11, They That Sow the Wind

He sits up in bed, gasping for air, and realizes that he knows his name. Thomas Nathaniel Hamilton. His name is Thomas Hamilton, son of Alfred and Lucille Hamilton. He is their eldest son – Alfred’s heir. He remembers it, and weeps from the relief of having that simple piece of himself back, his shoulders shaking, tears streaming from his eyes, hands reaching for the pillows to muffle his sobs. He has a name. He remembers, after forgetting for so long, and it comes as a blessed relief after so long wondering, hoping that something of his own identity will eventually come back to him. He leaves his room with an added spring in his step the next morning, and the servants watch with silent approval and something resembling relief as he starts to perambulate around the house with much greater confidence. He is recovering – slowly but surely coming back to himself. He rediscovers his favorite color, and the day that he requests a dish at supper, he thinks the cook might actually cry from happiness. – Through Hardships Unnumbered

As the guns go off, she watches, unmoving, her eyes fixed on the town as it burns. She can’t go back in time and give Thomas a proper burial but this, she thinks, might just be tribute enough to convince God to let him into Heaven if He truly does make a practice of damning suicides and not, as she suspects, welcoming them with open arms. She watches for a while, and then she turns without a word, going to James’ cabin, where she stands, numb, watching the men as they scrub the blood out of the floorboards and off the desk and then clear away, leaving her alone. – Hell Hath No Fury

She moves her hands upward from his chest to his shoulders, and he leans downward, bringing his mouth to hers. His hands shift positions until one is at her waist and the other is cupping her face, and they do not move for several moments, kissing one another slowly, carefully, taking the time to be tender and loving. They haven’t kissed like this in years, but now, finally united as one in purpose and understanding, there is no hurry and no tension, and when Miranda finally pulls away, they are both breathless. James shuts his eyes, breathing deeply, visibly relaxing, and when he looks at her again, there’s something infinitely gentle in his eyes. – Hell Hath No Fury

9. If you could change one thing about a fic you wrote this year, what would it be? Honestly, I don’t think I’d change a thing. My fics are what they are and I don’t regret a single thing about any of them, happily!