Maddie Buell

“Name?” I ask. “Jory Buell,” she says,”
― Rebecca Yarros, Iron Flame

“Here’s our stop,” Raden said into the silence, as the train rattled up to the Jersey City PATH station. As they climbed the steps, Alexa couldn’t help feeling that Jersey had put out its worst welcome mat specially for her—all she could see were little spots of ugliness, a dried dog turd on the ground, a dirty boarded-up window, illuminated by the dismal light of a flickering neon bar sign.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Meet Cute: Some People Are Destined to Meet