The Ornithologist's Field Guide to Love (Love's Academic, #1)

by India Holton

Behind them, the servants took this opportunity to lay down their burdens (literal: tool bags, birdcage, heavy boxes, picnic hamper, picnic table and chairs; and metaphorical: weariness for the drudgery of their job).

When one was an owl in a world of seagulls, one took any balm available.

The first unspoken rule when it came to Hippolyta Quirm was that honesty seldom represented the best policy. (The second rule: it was tea in her silver flask, regardless of smell, color, or that half-empty bottle of rum sitting on the shelf. Which also handily illustrated rule one.)

“I heard you plagiarized your book!” Oberhufter shouted. “I heard you plagiarized your personality!” Hippolyta shouted in return.

With his other hand, he stroked her arm. Outrageous! Rakishly scandalous! Actually quite soothing! Beth began to relax, despite being huddled closely with a scoundrel in a small, dark space.

Not that she didn’t intend to save herself, but a girl does like to have someone waiting in the wings, wanting to rescue her.