Monday, January 2, 2012

My Book Boyfriend: Jamie Fraser


We decided that Thursday needed a little pizazz and stumbled on this meme while hanging out at one of our favorite blogs, A Book and a Cupcake. So we took ourselves over to The Unread Reader to see what it was all about and join the fun. The Unread Reader features this meme on Wednesdays, but we figured moving our participation to Thursday wouldn't hurt anything. We'd love it if you'd leave a comment if you participate in this so we can check out your book boyfriends as well.
Jamie Fraser painting

My Book Boyfriend of the Week is Jamie Fraser from the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon.

* Auburn hair
* 6’4” and broad shouldered - a big lad, aye?
* Dark blue eyes with a downward “catseye” slant to them
*knife-blade nose
*Generally wears a kilt
* Aged 24 years in the first book, and ages accordingly, including the 20 year gap after Culloden.

Why He's My Book Boyfriend:
Jamie is a beautifully written character, with faults and follibles that make him realistic and true to life. He’s an honorable man who’s also handsome, learned, and witty. Jamie is loving and warm to his family and to Claire. I just want to curl up in his lap and have him call me a pet name in that soft Scottish burr of his. Is it any wonder 20th century, accidental time traveler Claire chose him over modern conveniences like hot baths? But like all things complex, Jamie can be very dangerous, in battle or defending his loved ones. He IS the ultimate hero, lover, husband, father, laird, warrior. He is secure in his masculinity without being a alpha male jerk. He's secure in his time, not a 20th century man in a kilt. He's not afraid to express his emotions, to cry or admit fear or sorrow or to give his love wholeheartedly. When he loves, he loves completely, without reservation. And when he makes a personal sacrifice for love, he never regrets it - no matter what the cost is to himself. He has a sense of duty and justice that is uncompromising, even when it hurts himself or those he loves.

Facts about Jamie:
*He has a gift for languages.
*He has a superior way with horses.
*He’s as stubborn as the day is long.
*He gets horribly seasick.

Quotes about Jamie:

*"Ah, lass, are you widowed then?’ His voice was so full of sympathetic concern that I lost it entirely. ‘No..yes..I mean, I don’t..yes I suppose I am!” Overcome with emotion and tiredness, I collapsed against him, sobbing hysterically. Instead of calling for help or retreating in confusion,
he sat down, gathered me firmly onto his lap with his good arm and sat rocking me gently, muttering soft Gaelic in my ear and smoothing my hair down with one hand. I wept bitterly, surrendering momentarily to my fear and heartbroken confusion, but slowly I began to quiet a bit, as Jamie stroked my neck and back, offering me the comfort of his broads, warm chest.No wonder he was so good with horses, I thought blearily, feeling his fingers rubbing gently behind my ears, listening to the soothing, incomprehensible speech. If I were a horse, I'd let him ride me anywhere.”

*"Harmless as a setting dove," Jamie agreed. "I'm too hungry to be a threat to anything but breakfast. Let a stray bannock come within reach, though, and I'll no answer for the consequences."

*I turned to Jamie in sudden panic. "I can't marry you! I don't even know your last name!"
He looked down at me and cocked a ruddy eyebrow. "Oh. It's Fraser. James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser."

* "Does it bother you that I'm not a virgin?" He hesitated a moment before answering.
"Well, no," he said slowly, "so long as it doesna bother you that I am." He grinned at my drop-jawed expression, and backed toward the door. "Reckon one of us should know what they're doing," he said. The door closed softly behind him; clearly the courtship was over.

* "I meant it, ye know," he said softly. "I will protect you. From him, or anyone else. To the last drop of my blood, mo duinne." "Mo duinne?" I asked, a little disturbed by the intensity of this speech. I didn't want to be responsible for any of his blood being spilt, last drop or first.
"It means 'my brown one.'" He raised a lock of hair to his lips and smiled, with a look in his eyes that started all the drops of my own blood chasing each other through my veins. "Mo duinne," he repeated softly. "I have been longing to say that to you."

* "Murtagh was right about women. Sassenach, I risked my life for ye, committing theft, arson, assault, and murder into the bargain. In return for which ye call me names,
insult my manhood, kick me in the ballocks and claw my face. Then I beat you half to death and tell ye all the most humiliating things have ever happened to me, and ye say ye love me."
He laid his head on his knees and laughed some more. Finally he rose and held out a hand to me, wiping his eyes with the other. "You're no verra sensible, Sassenach, but I like ye fine. Let's go."

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