What do you think?
Rate this book
584 pages, ebook
First published August 9, 2016
"The three suns hanging on a chain about his throat tried to gleam, but the clouds in the crying sky told them no."
"Mia sighed. Took her temper by the earlobe and pulled it to heel."
The girl felt the words in her chest. In the deepest, darkest place, where the hope children breathe and adults mourn withered and fell away, floating like ashes on the wind.
**
If her face were a puzzle, most would put it back in the box, unfinished.
**
Something had followed her from that place. The place above the music where her father died. Something hungry. A blind, grub consciousness, dreaming of shoulders crowned with translucent wings. And she, who would gift them.
Mia Corvere used to be the daughter of a respectable family but all that changes when her father is strung up for leading a rebellion.![]()
The brighter the light, the deeper the shadow.
'Never Flinch.' A cold whisper in her ear. 'Never fear. And never, ever forget.'Just ten years old, Mia watches her father dance at the end of a rope and silently swears revenge upon them all.
The girl nodded slowly.
Exhaled the hope inside.
You'll be a rumor. A whisper. The thought that wakes the bastards of this world sweating in the nevernight. The last thing you will ever be, girl, is someone's hero.Wow. This one was addicting!
Beauty you're born with, but brains you earn.There were areas where I was surprised by the violence but the main character had such a cute-yet-deadly take on things that the book was not overbearingly dark.
鈥淭he last thing you will ever be in this world, girl, is someone鈥檚 hero. But you will be a girl heroes fear.鈥�
鈥淭he brighter the light, the deeper the shadows鈥�
鈥淭he books we love, they love us back. And just as we mark our places in the pages, those pages leave their marks on us. I can see it in you, sure as I see it in me. You鈥檙e a daughter of words. A girl with a story to tell.鈥�
鈥淭oo many books. Too few centuries.鈥�
鈥淭he books we love, they love us back. And just as we mark our places in the pages, those pages leave their marks on us. I can see it in you, sure as I see it in me. You're a daughter of the words. A girl with a story to tell.鈥�
鈥淭he brighter the light, the deeper the shadow.鈥�
鈥淏eauty you're born with, but brains you earn.鈥�
THE NEVERNIGHT CHRONICLE is a different beast. The protagonist is a sixteen year old girl. Does that automatically make it YA? My editors say 鈥淒efinitely not, and who the hell let you out of your cage? Get back to work鈥�.
These books are about an assassin. They are, as you may expect, somewhat violent as a result. They also have sex scenes (and now I have to contemplate the fact that my mother is going to read them *shudders*). I鈥檇 rate them MA (or NA if you prefer) and describe them as 鈥渃rossover books鈥�. But they鈥檒l be found in the adult Fantasy section of your bookstore.
People often shit themselves when they die.
Their muscles slack and their souls flutter free and everything else just鈥lips out. For all their audience鈥檚 love of death, the playwrights seldom mention it. When the hero breathes his last in the heroine鈥檚 arms, they call no attention to the stain leaking across his tights, or how the stink makes her eyes water as she leans in for her farewell kiss.
I mention this by way of warning, O, my gentlefriends, that your narrator shares no such restraint.
She鈥檚 dead herself, now鈥攚ords both the wicked and the just would give an eyeteeth smile to hear. A republic in ashes behind her. A city of bridges and bones laid at the bottom of the sea by her hand. And yet I鈥檓 sure she鈥檇 still find a way to kill me if she knew I put these words to paper. Open me up and leave me for the hungry Dark. But I think someone should at least try to separate her from the lies told about her. Through her. By her.
Someone who knew her true.
A girl some called Pale Daughter. Or Kingmaker. Or Crow. But most often, nothing at all. A killer of killers, whose tally of endings only the goddess and I truly know. And was she famous or infamous for it at the end? All this death? I confess I could never see the difference. But then, I鈥檝e never seen things the way you have.
Never truly lived in the world you call your own.
Nor did she, really.
I think that鈥檚 why I loved her.
To the north, the Ribs rose hundreds of feet into the ruddy heavens, tiny windows staring out from apartments carved within the ancient bone. Canals ran out from the hollow Spine . . .
#1 Nevernight 鈽呪槄鈽呪槄鈽�
#2 Godsgrave 鈽呪槄鈽呪槄鈽�
#3 Darkdawn ???
鈥淭he books we love, they love us back. And just as we mark our places in the pages, those pages leave their marks on us.鈥�
鈥淵ou鈥檒l be a rumor. A whisper. The thought that wakes the bastards of this world sweating in the nevernight. The last thing you will ever be in this world, girl, is someone鈥檚 hero.鈥�
鈥淲alk softly. Learn well. May Our Lady be late when she finds you. And when she does, may she greet you with a kiss.鈥�
She looked the knife over, this way and that.
鈥淪hould I give it a name?鈥�
鈥淵ou could, I suppose. But what鈥檚 the point?鈥�
鈥淚t鈥檚 this bit.鈥� She touched the blade鈥檚 tip. 鈥淭he part you stick them with.鈥�
鈥淭he wolf does not pity the lamb. The storm begs no forgiveness of the drowned.鈥�
1) i cant believe i have been able to survive my meaningless life for so long without having read this, andthis is one of the most shockingly brutal stories i have ever read and i cant. get. enough. its honestly so wrong, that i dont even want it to be right. mia corvere could assassinate me and it would be my pleasure.
2) i cant believe i was able to survive reading this book because it quite nearly destroyed me.
鈥淭he books we love, they love us back. And just as we mark our places in the pages, those pages leave their marks on us. I can see it in you, sure as I see it in me. You're a daughter of the words. A girl with a story to tell.鈥�
鈥淵ou'll be a rumor. A whisper. The thought that wakes the bastards of this world sweating in the nevernight. The last thing you will ever be, girl, is someone's hero.鈥�
鈥淭his makes you who you are. She punched the slab of muscle above his heart. 鈥淭his." She slapped the top of his head. "These.鈥� The girl took hold of his hands not in front of him, staring into the boys eyes. 鈥淪lavemarks. Tattoos. Scars. What you look like doesn鈥檛 change who you are inside. They can give you a new face, but they can鈥檛 give you a new heart. No matter what they take from you, they can鈥檛 take that away unless you let them. That鈥檚 real strength, Tric. That鈥檚 real power.鈥�
鈥淚ron or glass? they'd ask.
She was neither.
She was steel.鈥�
鈥淐ock is just another word for 鈥榝ool.鈥� But you call someone a cunt, well鈥︹€� The girl smiled. 鈥淵ou鈥檙e implying a sense of malice there. An intent. Malevolent and self-aware. Don鈥檛 think I name Consul Scaeva a cunt to gift him insult. Cunts have brains, Don Tric. Cunts have teeth. Someone calls you a cunt, you take it as a compliment. As a sign that folk believe you鈥檙e not to be lightly fucked with.鈥� A shrug. 鈥淚 think they call that irony.鈥�
鈥淏eauty you're born with, but brains you earn.鈥�
killers
Light and Darkness
鈥淵ou'll be a rumour. A whisper. The thought that wakes the bastards of this world sweating in the nevernight. The last thing you will ever be in this world, girl, is someone's hero.
But you will be a girl heroes fear.鈥�
鈥淣ever Flinch.
Never Fear.
And never, ever Forget.鈥�
鈥淲hen all is bood, blood is all.鈥�