Master of Crows (Master of Crows, #1)

by Grace Draven

“You make perfumes.” A faint yearning colored her statement.

This one is moving a bit to slow for me. Wish it would speed up already.

blocked most of her frontal view, but she still marveled at the plains surrounding them, heard the whispering brush of grass as the horse waded through the sea of blue stem and dropseed. The plain soon gave way to a more rolling landscape, where the grasses thinned and olive trees stood in sentinel rows on the low hills. Sheep and goats dotted the slopes, their far-off bleating carried by the hot breeze drifting across the land.

Okay. Here is a sample of my problem with this story. Constant over descriptive paragraphs of scenery, etc. Over and over and over......

He opened his eyes, obsidian pools that caught the starlight and drowned it in their depths. “What are you?” he rasped. Uncaring that they huddled in a cursed dale or that he would likely flay her alive for the action, Martise hugged him and laughed in joyous relief.

Now that was a great scene.

she watched them conversed with Silhara in

A couple of editing errors.