The Lost Sisters (The Folk of the Air, #1.5)

by Holly Black

BE BOLD, BE BOLD, BUT NOT TOO BOLD, LEST THAT YOUR HEART’S BLOOD SHOULD RUN COLD.

Let’s start with a love story. Or maybe it’s another horror story. It seems like the difference is mostly in where the ending comes.

I felt sick, the kind of sick that makes your whole body heavy, as though your blood is turning to gravel.

“Trust me,” he said, then pushed me into the river.

W O W.

What Locke had done—even if it was awful to you, it was a grand gesture. It meant he cared for me.

REALLY BITCH?

I couldn’t help wondering how Vivi could possibly love a mortal girl. She didn’t know anything. She had no magic. She didn’t even seem like she’d done much suffering.

Wtf does that even mean??????

“I know what you did,” he drawled, voice low, not at all sounding like he was asking a question. “Wicked girl. Yet you let your sister take the brunt of my ire. That wasn’t very nice, was it?”

December 18, 2018 at 12:34pm — The moment I officially started loving Cardan.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t trust me with your heart. I might break it.” I didn’t like that.

You are such a dumb bitch.

But for a moment it felt good to be awful, like looking down on the world from some great height.

Ummmm, you sure it's just for this one moment???

Despite my misgivings, when he came and kissed me, I clung to him.

God, I hate you.

I was listening to Edir singing about me. Locke had been as good as his word. He had shown me how to make Faerie love me. He had shown me how to be the shaper of a story. He had done more than that, even. He had shown me how to achieve something like immortality.

If I roll my eyes any more, I'll be permanently blind.

“Not a marriage of a year and a day, either,” I said. “I want you to love me until you die.”

BAHAHAHA! WTF THIS BITCH IS CRAY CRAY.