#bethany bennett

[a-ramblinrose]

JOMP BPC || June 21 || Full of Clichés: Dukes Do It Better by Bethany Bennett

[readtilyoudie]

In the damp cellar, with its underlying smells of earth and oak casks, an unfamiliar scent teased her nose. A trace of mint, a hint of wine, and the unique blend of his breath. Such an intimate thing, to know how sweet someone’s very air smelled. 

Alice jerked her hand away.

Which left her with nothing to do but stand beside him in front of the empty chair, feeling things. And wondering about things.

Things like, did firm arms and chest mean the rest of him was equally fit and muscular? He didn’t sound older, but then, what did age sound like? Did he have fair hair, or dark? Was he always this kind and open, or were these admittedly unique circumstances making him act out of character? 

And finally, what did he taste like? Would the mint or the wine be sweeter on his lips? 

- A Duke in the Dark by Bethany Bennett

[foxcroft-rpg-blog]

BETHANY BENNETT

She is where she’s from, and that’s why she could never leave. Like a beating heart, the town needs her to survive, and keeping it alive has become only purpose. Some say she’s the only thing keeping it alive. Beat on, young heart, because tough times are coming your way, and you’ll have to beat strong enough to save them all. ( pinterest board )

[a-ramblinrose]

JOMP BPC || March 24 || Wait What?: Dukes Do It Better by Bethany Bennett kept knocking me out of my immersion with incredibly modern conversations.

[readtilyoudie]

“What else would you do if we were upstairs, Sir Ogre?” Curiosity made her ask.

“Try not to make an arse of myself when faced with a princess such as yourself, and wish through the entire exchange that we could skip to this part, where we can speak freely,” he said dryly.

Alice laughed at his tone. She liked that he was so honest about the discomfort he felt in conversation, yet somehow was at ease with her, in a remarkably uncomfortable situation.

- A Duke in the Dark by Bethany Bennett

[readtilyoudie]

He ducked down a dark hallway, not knowing where he was going beyond a primal need to head in the opposite direction of his bed. Another entry for his mental list. A proper duke would not run away.

Even as he left that awkward scene behind, it replayed in his head. A beautiful widow lounged mostly naked on his bed, and his response hadn’t been to swagger in and kick the door shut with his heel. Nor had he declined her offer in such a way that she could walk away with dignity intact.

No. He had squawked like a missish girl, then muttered, “what the hell?” and bolted.

A very improper duke, indeed.

- A Duke in the Dark by Bethany Bennett

[readtilyoudie]

He shook his head and mustered a grin. “Don’t mind me. I asked Thompson for help with something and he was unable to assist.”

“Perhaps I could help?” Miss Celeste asked.

Well, the young woman lived here too. What if Thompson was prevaricating? The man had appeared to choose his words carefully, but that might just be his way. Chris sighed and turned to Blythe. “If I tell you, you must promise not to jump to conclusions.”

Blythe’s eyes went wide. “It’s about a girl, isn’t it?” She turned to Miss Clemens and squealed. “He met a girl!”

“Sweet Jesus, have mercy,” he muttered. Then louder to be heard over her excited noises, “This is why I wanted you to promise.”

- A Duke in the Dark by Bethany Bennett

[foxcroft-rpg-blog]

“Oh love all you need to love before it goes, when your face becomes a stranger's I don't know. You will never remember who I was to you. Carried in the womb, I'm called mother, I'm called mother. They're called home, they're called home. They're called, they're called mothers.”

BETHANY BENNETT / TWENTY-NINE

↳ LORE

She is where she’s from, and that’s why she could never leave. Like a beating heart, the town needs her to survive, and keeping it alive has become her only purpose. Some say she’s the only thing keeping it alive. Beat on, young heart, because tough times are coming your way, and you’ll have to beat strong enough to save them all.

BETHANY BENNETT IS A WYRTH.

↳ HISTORY

She spent more time in the church as a child than her own house, but then again, even her parents considered the church their home. Still, it wasn’t her only home, and while she loved the white walls and tiny plants that clung to her childhood house, for Beth, her home extended past that. Foxcroft was her home -- despite how its residents treated her. She was a Bennett; her name tainted by her ancestors who burnt down the original town long before she was even a thought in this world. Her parents told her the story over and over, warning her what people would think of her when they heard her name -- at least, it was supposed to be a warning. Beth took the tales of her ancestors as a cautionary tale, not to fear the people of Foxcroft, but to make peace. She saw the way people looked at her family, at anyone who drove down Sweetwater Road on Sundays. How could a town be so rooted in hate that was created so long ago, when they weren’t even alive? She didn’t understand it, but she knew that forcing religion upon the people wasn’t the answer. No, kindness, compassion and understanding became her weapon -- her ambition was only a tool. 

Beth could have done anything, could have been anything, but the connection she felt to this tiny, nowhere town, and the work she saw that needed to be done kept her there. She would do better, be better than the people who came before her. She would make this town a better, more united place. She made the decision from a very young age that it would be her legacy. When she was ten years old she marched right up to little Arthur Foxcroft and insisted that they be friends. He laughed, “What makes you think a Foxcroft and a Bennett can be friends?” So his parents had told him the stories too. It was then that Beth realized she’d picked the wrong Foxcroft. Amelia, the eldest daughter --- she was different -- quieter, more poised, more controlled. When little Beth bounded up to her, smiling ear to ear, it almost seemed to scare Amelia. She was hesitant at first, but over the years Beth seemed to convince Amelia that their friendship could be the key to making Foxcroft a better place. Over the years that conversation turned to discussions of prejudice in Foxcroft, not only towards religion but towards certain races. Their conversations could have led somewhere, could have bettered the town, but then Amelia left. 

Still having faith in her mission, Beth continued to do all she could to help the town, but without a Foxcroft by her side, religious prejudice seemed to seep back through the cracks. Beth’s work became more focused on changing the perception of the church rather than uniting the town and the congregation. She isolated herself, kept her head down and worked as hard as she could, but in that isolation, tragedy struck. Not one, but two murders -- two souls lost to the unholiest sin of them all. Beth felt both of their deaths in her bones, she felt them shake through the whole town. Hazel, the girl who Beth saw so much of herself in, and Adam; he was Amelia’s brother. They were both gone. Adam’s death hit her harder, not because she knew Adam very well or because he was murdered, but because she knew Amelia was coming back. 

THE MASKS YOU KNOW, THE PEOPLE YOU DON’T …