Клуб фанатов JZB [АРХИВ] (18+)

продолжая тему, девочки - а вы бы покупали туалетную бумагу "Лихорадка"?))))))))

А то, что Бэрронсу бороду там сделали - отстой!!!!

А разве это не одна и та же девушка? Что в ролике, что в календаре?

Но мужик в видео завораживает, сила из него так и прет.

Привет, девченки!!! Примите меня в клуб?? Люблю Иерихона, да и вообще все Лихорадки - это самые интересные книги, которые я читала. Интересно, а это на календарях уже настоящий актерский состав или просто фанаты сделали??

в Клуб принимамаем, а календарики это поделки фанатов)))

I just read the Fever series again and made some notes on areas I thought might be clues or important ideas. I would appreciate your help in developing these areas more fully.
Jericho Z Barrons
Appearance:
Hair: black, Eyes: brown, Height: 6' 3", Weight: 245. His birthday: Halloween, Age: 31, immortal
Wears an ancient silver Celtic bracelet (maybe like the one V'laine offered Mac it protects against the Unseelie)
Wears a black-and-silver torque at his throat
Tattoos that protect against black magic, know lots of magic, can use Druid voice as well as other advanced Druid skills, can use Unseelie mirrors and read the stones of making to unlock the book's message, the Keltar Druids watch him but don't recognize he is a Druid or at least have not told Mac, on the phone Christian said after Samhain is over there may be a Druid was – talking about Barrons and his uncles
Extremely strong-Ripped Malluce’s head off, jumped down 30 feet without effort

Observations:
Someone howling under his garage during the full moon
Walks among the Unseelie, Seelie, and Shades and they move back for him
Can see the Fae even though he is not a sidhe seer - how?
V'laine is does not want Barrons to touch him - always stays out of reach
The Lord Master, Darroc is a former Seelie now human that has Druid skills, Fiona goes to the Lord Master when Barrons dumps her
He carries some kind of electrical charge because every time he touches me it shoots an unwelcome thrill through my body.
Barrons killed the woman he brought out of the mirror
“I smell it on you. And other things. Who was the man?” His dark, exotic face was cold. His nostrils flared and constricted like an animal scenting prey. He can also smell the difference in her blood and someone else’s.
I don’t think Barrons sleeps
He has never eaten in front of Mac
We have not seen Barrons out during the day light
Several of these characteristics seem to indicate a preternatural like vampire or werewolf. That would account for immortality. Karen never has written about these preternaturals before. Other than Fae, werewolf, or vampire who else is immortal?
With the Silvers (mirrors) a human can enter the Fae realms, undetected. (human not just Unseelie)
He says don’t humanize me, we aren’t the same

Barrons memory: A lonely boy. A lone man. Alone in a desert beneath a blood-red moon. War everywhere. Always war. A breath-stealing sirocco sweeping down over treacherously sifting sands. A cave in a cliff wall. Sanctuary? No sanctuary left anywhere (Mac said he looked like he was from the middle-east) or could this be the war that tore apart the planet the Fae came from when the Queen and King fought to the death? Or Basque is the area between France and Spain that has been fought over forever. The Scots Highlanders were mercenary soldiers for France that fought for control in that mountain area. Could this be the mountain caves? Was his Basque mother raped by a Highlander? Is that why he get so mad when Mac calls him a mercenary? However there aren’t any sand dunes in Basque Country. Also, how did Mac get this memory from kissing him? Tattoo connection, deep listening a latent Druid skill? There were female Druids in Celtic society.

Could this boy be Barrons? - (Karen said it is not Barrons) The author of the pocket notebook was no sidhe-seer. Its scribe was a man, or rather a young boy, who’d been so beautiful he was mocked by the warriors of his time, though loved by the lasses who’d taught him his letters.
At ten and three, he’d had the misfortune of capturing the eye of a Faery princess, while taking a shortcut through a dark and tangled wood. She’d charmed and seduced him off to Faery, where she’d swiftly transformed into something cold and frightening.
She’d kept him locked in a golden cage at court, where he’d been forced to watch the Fae play with their human “pets.” Among their games, their favorite was turning mortals Pri-ya: into creatures who begged for the touch of a Fae, any Fae—in fact, for the touch of anything at all, for the “vilest of things to be done to them, and to do foul things to each other,” according to the young scribe. These creatures had no will, no mind, no awareness of anything but sexual need. They knew neither morality nor mercy, and were as likely to turn on one another as rabid animals. The boy had found them terrifying and feared being given to what had become of his human companions. He had no way of tracking time but he watched hundreds come and go, and began a growth of manly hair, which was when the princess began once more to look his way.
When the Fae were no longer amused with their pets they cast them from Faery to die. In this manner, the letter of the Compact wasn’t violated. They didn’t actually kill the humans they captured. They just didn’t save them. I wondered how many had died in madhouses, or been used for exactly what they wanted, and killed by their own kind.
The boy listened to all that was said, recorded all he heard, because when the dying were discarded, their possessions went with them, and, although he’d lost hope for himself, he hoped to warn his people. (The child hadn’t known that hundreds of years would have passed by the time he was released from Faery.) He hoped something he recorded might save one of them, perhaps hold the key to one day destroying his terrifying, merciless abductors.

(Barrons tattoo is at her nape) “A chill kissed my nape. That his plan had worked meant the boy was long dead. And as he’d hoped, his notebook had found its way back to the world of Man, and eventually into the hands of a sidhe-seer, to be passed down through the centuries, and end up in Rowena’s desk. Why was it in her desk? Just some light reading at lunchtime, or was she looking for something?”

I think at the end of book 3 Mac is connected to Barrons and I think he is her kite string. I also think since she is under the influence of the Unseelie during this orgy when the Unseelie wears off she will not be pri-ya.

War is the 4th horseman and Mac’s vision of his memory indicates he could be War. I hope not. I don’t want Barrons to be evil.

Name could mean:
Jericho is also a walled city of the Bible where a famous battle took place/so is Galway a walled city
Barrons is also a title of honor, privilege
change 1 letter to = barrows
Daoine Sith= 'folks of the barrows'/fae
Daoine only come out from dusk to dawn also.
Moon Warrior = Jericho translates to "fragrant" or a lesser known translation "moon"
Barrons translates to "noble man" or "warrior"
"Z"
Zeru = sky in Basque
Zeus = sky in Greek
Zigor = punishment in Basque
Zorion = happiness in Basque
Zuzen = just or fair in Basque

When Ryodan says to Mac, so that's what his is going by now. The he asks what his middle initial is. When she says Z he implies that is his real identification.

Druids:
Spell of the Highlander: says, "Seven times now she’d prevented the extinction of the purest and most potent of the Druid lines.
And positioned the five most powerful Druids that had ever lived precisely where she wanted them. Where they could ally her.
Where they could save her.
There was Dageus, possessing far more knowledge than any one Druid should have: all the knowledge of the Draghar, the thirteen ancients. The memories she’d left in him were doing things to him he wasn’t admitting. Not to Drustan, not to his mate.
There was Cian, possessing far more power than any one Druid should have: the genetic fluke, the unexpected mutation born once in a bloodline. The things Dageus and Cian could do together if they put their minds to it worried even her.
Then there was Drustan: compared to his dangerously endowed kin, modest of power, modest of knowledge, yet superior in a way they could never be. Dageus and Cian could go either way, good or evil. Drustan MacKeltar was that unique kind of man whose name lived forever in legends of men—a warrior so pure of heart that he was beyond corrupting. A man who would die for his beliefs, not just once but ten thousand times over if necessary.
As for her other two chosen, she would be seeing them soon.
Below her, in Castle Keltar’s great hall, the humans stood talking, oblivious to her presence. Blissfully unaware that a little over five years in their future, their world was in chaos, the walls between Man and Faery were down, and the Unseelie ruled with an icy, brutal hand. The Shades were feeding again, the Hunters were enforcing compliance, calling death sentences for the slightest infraction, and the exquisite Unseelie Princes were indulging their insatiable appetite for mortal women, brutally raping, leaving mindless shells.
And she?
Ah, that was the problem.
Her gaze shifted inward from the tableau below.
Though her race could move at will through the past, they could not penetrate a future that had not yet occurred. If one attempted to go forward beyond one’s present existence, one encountered an oppressive white mist, nothing more. If one went too far back in the past, one encountered the same mist. Not even the Tuatha Dé Danaan understood time. They knew how to traverse only the simplest facet of it.
She’d sifted back countless times now, from five and a half years in Earth’s future—her present—delicately altering events while trying not to change too much. Concealing from all, even those of her own court, that she was temporally displaced while doing it. Worlds were fragile; one could destroy an entire planet inadvertently. She already carried the weight of such an error. It was a heavy burden. As did her long-ago consort, though the unfathomably ancient Dark King cared nothing about the blood of billions.
She’d been alive for over sixty thousand years. Many of her kind wearied of existence long before that.
Not she. She had no wish to cease. Though the loss of Adam Black to his mortal mate grieved her, and she’d considered undoing that as well, she’d learned that there was a human element that was highly dangerous to meddle with. Love’s power was violently unpredictable; it affected events in ways her Tuatha Dé mind had failed to anticipate on more than one occasion.
She could not hope to predict what she could not understand. There were times when she suspected human love harbored a power more elemental and greater than any her race possessed. It infused things with strength in impossible excess of the sum of its parts. Indeed, it had been the matching of each Keltar below with his mate that had tempered them, given them cores of steel, and made her Druids into allies worthy of a queen.
The room below fell into a sudden hush. The silence drew her gaze back to the small group of men and women.
Dageus, Chloe, Drustan, Gwen, and Jessica were all staring at Cian, who had a startled expression on his face and was gazing directly up at her, where she stood beyond the balustrade.
She stiffened. Impossible! She wasn’t even truly there, but a projection of herself, concealed by countless layers of illusion, beyond an impenetrable Fae veil. Not even the most adept of Sidhe-seers would be able to isolate her formless form within the dimensional deception she’d created!
Ah, yes, this Druid had power beyond any other.
“What is it, Cian?” Drustan said, glancing over his shoulder in the direction Cian was looking. “Is aught amiss? Do you see something, kinsman?”
Aoibheal stared at the Highlander, her lips tightening. She smoothed them again. Waited for him to betray her presence.
No, no, no, it was not time yet—it could too drastically alter things—it could destroy what chance they had!
She’d attained a tenuous balance of possibles at best. She needed more time.
She held his gaze, used her human eyes to convey a mute plea. Say nothing, Keltar-mine.
The ninth-century Highlander regarded her silently. After a moment he inclined his head in the barest nod, then turned and glanced at Drustan.
“Nay,” he said. “ ’Tis nothing, Drustan. Nothing at all.” '

I wonder what about Christopher, the modern Druid living in the original castle? And his son Christian? Here are 2 more Druids to round out the five. I wonder why she didn’t use them? I thought all the other Druids were on the evil side. Unless she is refering to Barrons and Ryodan who could the other 2 be?

Teaser #1: “I am a kite in a tornado but I have a long string. There is tension in my line. Somewhere, someone is holding onto the other end and, although it cannot spare me this storm, it will not let me be lost while I regain my strength.”

Teaser #2: “I was mad as hell.
I had so many grievances, I didn't even know where to begin listing them.
I was pissed-off walking. Or rather pissed-off sitting, tangled in crimson silk sheets that smelled like somebody'd been having a Sexathon.
That would be me.
And that made me even madder.”

Book 1: Darroc’s house - the interior was furnished in high Louis XIV style, with plush chairs and sofas set against palatial columns and pilasters, richly carved marble-topped tables, and beautiful amber-and-gold light fixtures. I had no doubt the bedroom furniture would be ornate and enormous in true Sun King style. Huge gilt-framed mirrors and paintings of vaguely familiar mythological scenes adorned the walls.
I mentally smacked myself in the forehead—was this where Alina's boyfriend lived? Had she sent me straight to the address of her murderer?
Ten minutes later I found my answer in an upstairs bedroom, beyond a massive bed, in a spacious walk-in closet filled with finer clothing than even Barrons wore.

Could Mac have awakened in Darroc’s bed after the effects of the Unseelie have worn off? She is not pri-ya, but she is really mad as hell. Yet her hope and sanity is being held by Barrons like a kite string grounding her.

Since the name of the book is Dreamfever will is be similar to In the Dreaming where people can meet in dreams and gain knowledge as well as relationships? Sex for Barrons and Mac? Knowledge about the amulet and book?

Any help in fleshing out these observations and ideas would be appreciated?