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Tag: Historical Fiction

Books to read for Valentine’s Day (2021 Edition)

Books to read for Valentine’s Day (2021 Edition)

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First Chapter First Paragraph Thursday Intros ~ The Way Back

First Chapter First Paragraph Thursday Intros ~ The Way Back

The Way Back, Gavriel Savit, Trees, Fire, Silhouettes, Young Adult, Historical Fiction, Jewish, Mythology, Fantasy, Blue,
On a bright summer day in the year eighteen hundred and twelve (by the gentile reckoning), a girl left her mother’s house -the little house where had been born- and went to the brambles on the far side of the forest to gather the small summer strawberries that grow in the shade. These were the best kind of berries, tiny and soft, and the girl crouched in the bushes, staining her lips and fingertips red: one for her mouth, one for her apron, and so on and on.
At first the girl was sure that she must be imagining things. She was far from the village here, far from the road, and she alone knew of the berry bush.
Surely no one else would come to this place.
But she was not imagining things.

First Chapter First Paragraph Thursday Intros ~ The Midnight Guardians

First Chapter First Paragraph Thursday Intros ~ The Midnight Guardians

The Midnight Guardians, Ross Montgomery, Tiger, Children, Imaginary, Fantasy, Historical Fiction, WWII, Airplanes, Sunset, Thorns, Snow, Winter, Children's books
Tonight is the darkest night of the year.
It is so dark, you can barely make out the stone cottage sitting in front of you. It is the only building in the valley. A path runs right from the fields to a red front door, framed by the remains of a rose bush. In summer, when days are long and warm, the roses flourish. But there are no roses now. It is the dead of winter and the dead of night. The door is surrounded by thorns.

Friday’s Page 69 ~ The Mountains Sing

Friday’s Page 69 ~ The Mountains Sing

The Mountains Sing, Vietnam, Asia, Historical Fiction, Black, Mountains, Gold, Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai
I missed how my mother had filled our home with her singing voice, how gracefully she’d danced, how she’d led me along by my fingers, twirling me around her so my shirt would flare. Whenever I was sad, I told myself to be strong, like my mother. She never cried or showed fear. Once we found a snake under our bed and, while I stood there shrieking, she bent and picked it up by the tip of its tail, flinging it out of the open window.

Teaser Tuesday ~ A Girl Called Justice: The Smugglers’ Secret

Teaser Tuesday ~ A Girl Called Justice: The Smugglers’ Secret

A Girl Called Justice: The Smugglers' Secret, Justice Jones, Book 2, Girl, Lantern, Clouds, Lightning, Lighthouse, Boarding School, Mystery, Murder, Children's Books, Elly Griffiths
I flipped through the book randomly and ended up at page 127.

A few ornaments had also been placed on the desk – a bronze Alsatian, a wooden cat and a paperweight in the shape of an aeroplane – but Justic was more interested in the parts of the room that she wasn’t supposed to explore.

Weekly Quote for Week 48-2020 ~ The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue

Weekly Quote for Week 48-2020 ~ The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, V.E. Schwab, Blue, Flowers, Strings, Fantasy, Historical Fiction, Romance, LGBT, “What she needs are stories.
Stories are a way to preserve one’s self. To be remembered. And to forget.
Stories come in so many forms: in charcoal, and in song, in paintings, poems, films. And books.
Books, she has found, are a way to live a thousand lives—or to find strength in a very long one.”

First Chapter First Paragraph Thursday Intros ~ The Once and Future Witches

First Chapter First Paragraph Thursday Intros ~ The Once and Future Witches

Bird, Scissors, roses, The Once and Future Witches, Ribbon, Flowers, Plants, Alix, E. Harrow, Fantasy, Historical Fiction, Witches, Fantasy, Magic, Young Adult, Sisters, Suffragists, Salem,
Once upon a time there were three sisters.
James Juniper Eastwood was the youngest, with hair as ragged and black as crow feathers. She was the wildest of the three. The canny one, the feral one, the one with torn skirts and scarped knees and a green glitter in her eyes, like summer-light through leaves. She knew where the whip-poor-wills nested and the foxes denned; she could find her way home at midnight on the new moon.
But on the spring equinox of 1893, James Juniper was lost.