Children of Blood and Bone (Legacy of Orïsha, #1)

by Tomi Adeyemi

He’s not one to show his emotions. He saves his pain for the isolation of night.

Oya dances for me again.

scrub as hard as I can, desperate to wipe every remnant of that hell from my flesh.

The slur disparages everything I’ve ever worked for. The duty I fight to fulfill.

“Go—” “You don’t have to be afraid—” “I am always afraid!” I don’t know what shocks me more—the power in my voice or the words themselves. Afraid.

Your people, your guards—they’re nothing more than killers, rapists, and thieves. The only difference between them and criminals is the uniforms they wear.

Magic doesn’t give us peace. It only gives us a fighting chance.

I felt like a goddess. Now I hardly feel alive.

We are all children of blood and bone. All instruments of vengeance and virtue.

Children of Blood and Bone was written during a time where I kept turning on the news and seeing stories of unarmed black men, women, and children being shot by the police. I felt afraid and angry and helpless, but this book was the one thing that made me feel like I could do something about it.