Gild (The Plated Prisoner, #1)

by Raven Kennedy

memory and time aren’t friends. They reject each other, they hurry in opposite directions, pulling the binding taut between them, threatening to snap. They fight, and we inexplicably lose. Memory and time. Always losing one as you go on with the other.

If those stars really are goddesses waiting to be born, I should warn them to stay where they are in the safety of their twinkling light. Because down here? Down here, life is dark and lonely, and it has noisy bells and not nearly enough wine.

I’m ridiculously fun. You kind of have to be when the only person you hang out with is you. I wouldn’t want to bore myself.

You can have all the gold in the world and yet lack everything of real worth.