The Library of the Unwritten (Hell's Library #1)

by A.J. Hackwith

What is a story without want, without desire, without need?

In Claire’s experience, heroes of unwritten stories were often the most fragile. All that destiny and tragic backstory. It made it easier to force them into their books, but it left a sour taste in her mouth. Entirely useless. Nothing folded like a hero without a story. Even damsels were sturdier.

“I know that it takes a rare heart to break and leave behind such a sharp, cutting edge.”

The trouble with reading is it goes to your head. Read too many books and you get savvy. You begin to think you know which kind of story you’re in. Then some stupid git with a cosmic quill fucks you over.

“You’re the gatekeeper. You’re every gatekeeper. Does that make you—” “Death,” Walter said quietly. His gaze gentled and he rubbed his neck, a gesture familiar enough to make Claire’s heart ache. “Some call me that, yeah. I always rather liked ‘Walter.’”

She’d entered the labyrinth expecting to find death and here he was. And he’d been her friend all along.

But somewhere in Ramiel’s long and winding existence, right had stopped feeling like the best place to be.