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303 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 26, 2017
Before I begin, just letting you know that I got my copy from Uppercase - a lovely monthly book subscription box.![]()
It was so exciting to read a book that the author signed!!![]()
I was alive in a way I never had been before, in a world that no longer felt stale but instead crackled with breathless promise.Isobel lives in Whimsy, a little pocket of fairyland, along with her aunt and March and May, her twin ex-goat siblings (ex-goat because...well... they used to be the family's goats until a fairy decided that they'd be more fun as humans) .
Walking along a blade’s edge was only fun until the blade stopped being a metaphor.The autumn prince, Rook, desires a painting and Isobel obliges but adds an unexpected touch. She sees a flicker of sorrow on the prince's face and on an impulse adds it in.
This wasn't like me. So many years of being cautious, and in a matter of minutes I'd started slipping up.Wrong. Move.
Why do we desire, above all other things, that which has the greatest power to destroy us?I was very impressed!
...all around me sat empty people in rotting clothes, nibbling on flyblown trifles while they spoke of nothing of consequence with fixed smiles on their false faces.I adored all of the small details thrown in - especially how Isobel chose payment for her craft, often choosing the most mundane of enchantments.
"You are the most admired Crafter of thus age...and yet you request eggs."All those little bits completely drew me into the story.
“I quite like eggs,” I replied firmly, well aware that the enchantments he described would all turn strange and sour, even deadly, in the end.
Isobel, I love you wholly. I love you eternally. I love you so dearly it frightens me. I fear I could not live without you. I could see your face every morning upon waking for a thousand years and still look forward to the next as though it were the first.It's just like, calm down already. Keep the pants on.
Ah, but you were not a pawn. All along, you have been the queen.Audiobook Comments
This wasn't like me. So many years of being cautious, and in a matter of minutes I'd started slipping up.
“You are like a living rose among wax flowers. We maybe last forever, but you bloom brighter and smell sweeter, and draw blood with your thorns.”
I wiped off my fingers, but it wasn't the mold or maggots making my stomach revolt... No, it was the knowledge that all around me sat empty people in rotting clothes, nibbling on flyblown trifles while they spoke of nothing of consequence with fixed smiles on their false faces.
No. You surpass us all." Beside me she looked colorless and frail. "You are like a living rose among wax flowers. We may last forever, but you bloom brighter and smell sweeter, and draw blood with your thorns.
“Why do we desire, above all other things, that which has the greatest power to destroy us?”
“I was alive in a way I never had been before, in a world that no longer felt stale but instead crackled with breathless promise.”
“Isobel, listen. The teapot is of no consequence. I can defeat anyone, at any time.”
“I have never met anyone more frustrating, or brave, or beautiful. I love you.”
"No human had ever visited a fairy court and lived. Or at least, none had ever done so and remained human. I was a master of the Craft, escorted by a prince, but I had to wonder whether I truly was a special case, or if every mortal deluded themselves into thinking they were an exception to the rule."
"I wiped off my fingers, but it wasn't the mold or maggots making my stomach revolt... No, it was the knowledge that all around me sat empty people in rotting clothes, nibbling on flyblown trifles while they spoke of nothing of consequence with fixed smiles on their false faces."
"Dim as it was, the forest glowed. The golden leaves flashing by blazed like sparks caught in the updraft of a fire. A scarlet carpet unrolled before us, rich and flawless as velvet. Rising from the forest floor, the black, tangled roots breathed a bluish mist that reduced the farthest trees’ trunks to ghostly silhouettes, yet left their foliage’s luminous hues untouched. Vivid moss speckled the branches like tarnished copper. The crisp spice of pine sap infused the cool air over a musty perfume of dry leaves. A knot swelled in my throat. I couldn’t look away. There was too much of it, too fast. I’d never be able to drink it all in—I needed to absorb every leaf, every chip of bark, every flake of moss. I clenched my fingers in Rook’s mane, ravenous for my paintbrush, my easel. Sitting up straighter, I let the wind rush over me and fill my lungs to bursting. It still wasn’t enough. After seventeen years of living in a world that never changed, I felt as though I’d just flung off a stifling wool sweater and felt the breeze on my skin for the very first time. Nothing would ever be enough again."
"A storm gathered in my breast; the butterflies fell fluttering weakly to the ground.
With a sharp intake of breath, Rook looked away."
"Love between us was impossible. I forced myself to confront what would become of us if I allowed this feeling to take flight. There were only two options: drink from the Green Well, or condemn us both to death. "
"He really is in love with me,I thought. My heart leapt forward like a startled deer. Seeing a confession of love in his eyes was nothing like hearing it declared aloud. This was a look that would make time stop, if it could. Soft and sharp at once, an aching tenderness edged with sorrow, naked proof of a heart already broken. Here I stood in a dragonfly dress, holding his arm, and he knew our time was almost over."
“You are like a living rose among wax flowers. We maybe last forever, but you bloom brighter and smell sweeter....”