A Soul as Cold as Frost (The Winter Souls, #1)

by Jennifer Kropf

Oh, buttery basket of buttocks, she was going to be furious.

I emptied of emotion as my eyes fell to the candle on the table. It wasn’t that I didn’t care, it was that I’d cared so much for so long that I’d learned to adapt. It was a survival tactic, according to literature I’d read on human psychology.

Small talk. The sum of all things unbearable.

a confusing appearance of being possibly wealthy, but hygienically careless.

I'm stealing the term "hygenically careless"

The Truth is still the Truth, regardless of where it lands. Sometimes it falls on deaf ears, but it’s always speaking.

“Knowing isn’t the same as believing,”

When the Truth calls, it’s not in the manner of a giant shouting in the daylight. It’s a whisper; a quiet tug on a silent night. If you aren’t listening, you won’t hear it.”

GLORY AND HONOUR AND POWER TO HIM WHO SITS ON THE THRONE OF WINTER