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“As his people positioned themselves in and around the pass, Arin though that he might have misunderstood the Valorian addiction to war. He had assumed it was spurred by greed. By a savage sense of superiority. It had never occurred to him that Valorians also went to war because of love.
Arin loved those hours of waiting. The silent, brilliant tension, like scribbles of heat lightning. His city far below and behind him, his hand on a cannon's curve, ears open to the acoustics of the pass. He stared into it, and even though he smelled the reek of fear from men and women around him, he was caught in a kind of wonder.He felt so vibrant. As if his life was fresh, translucent, thin-skinned fruit. It could be sliced apart and he wouldn't care. Nothing felt like this. ”
― The Winner's Curse
Arin loved those hours of waiting. The silent, brilliant tension, like scribbles of heat lightning. His city far below and behind him, his hand on a cannon's curve, ears open to the acoustics of the pass. He stared into it, and even though he smelled the reek of fear from men and women around him, he was caught in a kind of wonder.He felt so vibrant. As if his life was fresh, translucent, thin-skinned fruit. It could be sliced apart and he wouldn't care. Nothing felt like this. ”
― The Winner's Curse
“Arin wondered if she would lift her eyes, but wasn’t worried he would be seen in the garden’s shadows.
He knew the law of such things: people in brightly lit places cannot see into the dark.”
― The Winner's Curse
He knew the law of such things: people in brightly lit places cannot see into the dark.”
― The Winner's Curse
“Ronan raised his brows. “To the tune of fifty keystones?”
“What do I care?” Kestrel wanted to end this conversation. “I am wealthy enough.” She touched Ronan’s sleeve. “And how much”—she rubbed the silk between her fingers—“did this cost?”
“Ronan, whose deftly embroidered shirt was easily the same price the slave had been, allowed that a point had been made.
“He will last longer than this shirt.” Kestrel let go of the cloth. “I’d say I got a bargain.”
― The Winner's Curse
“What do I care?” Kestrel wanted to end this conversation. “I am wealthy enough.” She touched Ronan’s sleeve. “And how much”—she rubbed the silk between her fingers—“did this cost?”
“Ronan, whose deftly embroidered shirt was easily the same price the slave had been, allowed that a point had been made.
“He will last longer than this shirt.” Kestrel let go of the cloth. “I’d say I got a bargain.”
― The Winner's Curse
“Arin smiled. It was a true smile, which let her know that all the others he had given her were not.”
― The Winner's Curse
― The Winner's Curse
“I bought you something" Willows blurts out.
"You bought...What?"
Willow closes her eyes for a second. She's a little surprised she's going to give it to him after all, but there's no going back now. She has to.
"At the bookstore." She reaches into her bag again, and pushes the package across the table towards him.
Guy takes the book out of the bag slowly, Willow waits for him to look disappointed, to look confused that she would buy him such a battered, old-
"I love it when used books have notes in the margins, it's the best," Guy says as he flips through the pages. "I always imagine who read it before me." He pauses and looks at one of Prospero's speeches. "I have way too much homework to read this now, but you know what? Screw it. I want to know why it's your favorite Shakespeare. Thank you, that was really nice of you. I mean, you really didn't have to."
"But I did anyway," Willow says so quietly she's not even sure hears her.
Hey," Guy frowns for a second. "You didn't write anything in here."
"Oh, I didn't even think...I, well, I wouldn't even know what to write," Willow says shyly.
"Well, maybe you'll think of something later," he says.
Willow watches Guy read the opening. There's no mistaking it. His smile is genuine, and she can't help thinking that if she can't make David look like this, at least she can do it for someone.”
― Willow
"You bought...What?"
Willow closes her eyes for a second. She's a little surprised she's going to give it to him after all, but there's no going back now. She has to.
"At the bookstore." She reaches into her bag again, and pushes the package across the table towards him.
Guy takes the book out of the bag slowly, Willow waits for him to look disappointed, to look confused that she would buy him such a battered, old-
"I love it when used books have notes in the margins, it's the best," Guy says as he flips through the pages. "I always imagine who read it before me." He pauses and looks at one of Prospero's speeches. "I have way too much homework to read this now, but you know what? Screw it. I want to know why it's your favorite Shakespeare. Thank you, that was really nice of you. I mean, you really didn't have to."
"But I did anyway," Willow says so quietly she's not even sure hears her.
Hey," Guy frowns for a second. "You didn't write anything in here."
"Oh, I didn't even think...I, well, I wouldn't even know what to write," Willow says shyly.
"Well, maybe you'll think of something later," he says.
Willow watches Guy read the opening. There's no mistaking it. His smile is genuine, and she can't help thinking that if she can't make David look like this, at least she can do it for someone.”
― Willow
Ina’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Ina’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
21 books
|
5 friends
0 books
|
8 friends
1 book
|
173 friends
1 book
|
19 friends
2 books
|
25 friends
1 book
|
35 friends
0 books
|
36 friends
1 book
|
142 friends
More friends…
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