“She walked until a surprisingly cold breeze swept past her. She halted. Slowly, Celaena turned north, toward the source of the breeze, which smelled of a faraway land she hadn’t seen in eight years. Pine and snow—a city still in… — Sarah J. Maas Copy Share Image
“The breeze carried the music into the distant country plains, past the bullet trains, across the majestic cornfields and the Christmas tree farms. The music swept past the Georgia orange trees, the droning honeybees, and the shining seas of the… — David Paul Kirkpatrick Copy Share Image
