Every week I will pick a quote from a book I read, am reading, or that is my favourite, and share it with you all through this post.
“A good book was its own brand of magic, one I could safely indulge in without fear of getting caught by those who hunted. I loved escaping from reality, especially during times of trouble. Stories made everything possible.”
“When you sell a man a book you don’t sell him just twelve ounces of paper and ink and glue—you sell him a whole new life. Love and friendship and humor and ships at sea by night—there’s all heaven and earth in a book.”
“Christmas is big business in Eldovia. We have an annual Cocoa Fest on Christmas Eve day. Restaurants and pubs participate, and so does the palace. We make big cauldrons of different kinds of cocoa and serve them outside on the grounds.”
“Are you kidding me?” Gabby demanded.
Marie laughed. “I am entirely in earnest. And there’s a Cocoa Ball in the evening—though that’s not for children.” She wasn’t sure why she added that qualifier. It wasn’t as if Gabby, whose eyes had grown comically wide, would be around to be told she couldn’t attend the ball.
“Oh my god, you are from a fake Hallmark country,” Leo deadpanned.”
A chill runs through me. “Who’s them?”
The dead girl studies me. “She doesn’t leave the house,” Cam finally says, “but it doesn’t mean they don’t listen.” Her movements are erratic and fast, too quick for me to run before fingers slide over my temples and hold me in place. “I can only show you.” Her breath glides along my ear.
“Perhaps you could take only one book with you to read at the gardens. After all, you’ll only be there for the afternoon.” Hazel choked on her tea. “One book? One book? Now you’re being absurd. What if I finish it? Or what if I find it impossibly dull, what then? What am I supposed to read if I either complete the book I brought or I otherwise discover it to be unreadable? It what if it no longer holds my attention? Someone could spill tea on it. There. Think of that. Someone could spill tea on my one book, and then I would be marooned. Honestly, Iona, you must use your head.”
We rode our bikes out of town, until the roads became country lanes. Ben wouldn’t tell me where we were going, except to assure me it “wasn’t too far” and, alarmingly, “he wasn’t going to murder me in a remote location and bury my body in an old drain”, which sounded way too detailed and thought-out for my liking.
In any case, I was merrily peddling along after him anyway because I honestly think, when it comes to cute boys, any common sense I might possibly possess just goes right out of the window.
“He knows you’re a sucker for Jane Austen and rom-coms and that the way to your heart is through ridiculously long hikes and buying presents for your dog.”
“Some books wrote themselves into people’s hearts as children and lived there, all but forgotten, until a bookseller recognized the spark and reunited them. Other books held their words close, waiting on the shelf to ignite a passion in someone who hadn’t even known they were wanting.”
“Do you realize we could’ve been doing this for years if you weren’t such a pain in the ass?”
“Nah—I didn’t like you until recently.”
“Enemies-to-lovers—it’s our trope, Buxbaum.”
“You poor, confused little love lover.” A giggle shimmied through me before I set my hands on his face and said as I pulled him back to me, “Just shut up and kiss me.”
“Bryn, when you were six years old, you tried to bungee jump off a jungle gym by connecting the straps of your overalls to the bars with your shoelaces. Caution has never been your strong suit.”