Unboxing: FairyLoot Deluxe Set of The Ember Quartet by Sabaa Tahir

 Hello, bibliovories! I'm back with an unboxing post! In the last year and a half, I've subscribed to three book subscription boxes - Illumicrate, The Bookish Box, and FairyLoot. One day I'll write a whole post on each company and what I like and dislike about them. Maybe I'll start posting unboxings of the monthly boxes for each company. But today, I'd like to share my unboxing of the first special edition set of books that I've bought from one of the many book subscription boxes - the signed Ember Quartet by Sabaa Tahir, created and sold by FairyLoot!

Here's the box!

Time to open...

What's the print on the top?

This is beautiful! Gold foil is one of my favorite designs. And all of the major characters of the book are here. I love that Elias and Laia are prominent.

Here is the set! Orange, blue, green, and purple. I love the animal symbols are the bottom of each spine.

Pretty sprayed spines!

More pretty spines!

The gorgeous stenciled design! So beautiful!

You thought I was done? Above is the hidden cover of Ember.

And Torch...

How about Reaper...

And Sky!

Did I mention that the books are signed?

And altogether:

And that's the set! It was a pretty penny, but absolutely worth it. I love this series so much, and I love this deluxe exclusive set so much. Many thanks to FairyLoot and Sabaa Tahir, for making this set available to readers for purchase!

Review: Namesake by Adrienne Young

Namesake by Adrienne Young

Book One of the Fable series

Publisher: Wednesday Books

Publication Date: March 16, 2021

Rating: 5 stars

Source: Copy provided by the publisher

Summary (from Goodreads):

Trader. Fighter. Survivor.

With the Marigold ship free of her father, Fable and its crew were set to start over. That freedom is short-lived when she becomes a pawn in a notorious thug’s scheme. In order to get to her intended destination she must help him to secure a partnership with Holland, a powerful gem trader who is more than she seems.

As Fable descends deeper into a world of betrayal and deception she learns that her mother was keeping secrets, and those secrets are now putting the people Fable cares about in danger. If Fable is going to save them then she must risk everything, including the boy she loves and the home she has finally found.

Filled with action, emotion, and lyrical writing, New York Times bestselling author Adrienne Young returns with Namesake, the final book in the captivating Fable duology.

What I Liked:

I read Fable in early 2020, and I knew it would be a hit. I loved the book; it pulled me right out of the reading slump that I had been in, since my father passed away in 2019. Fable hit me at the right time. I received Namesake to read in Fall 2020 and I dove right back into the intriguing, mysterious world of the Narrows. Namesake is the conclusion to the Fable duology, and it's easily one of the best conclusion novels I've ever read.

Namesake picks up pretty much right where Fable left off, which, if you remember where Fable left off, you remember being pretty upset. (I was, anyway.) I won't state too much about that, since Fable published only six months ago, and I will try not to spoil anything regarding Namesake as well. 

The world of Fable becomes so much larger in this book. Adrienne Young expands the world, the schemes, the politics, the characters. A wider cast of characters is brought into play, and even more political machinations, deals, risks, and revelations. Some characters who were briefly mentioned in Fable become critical players in Namesake. No specifics, but believe me, the plot thickens! I love the Pirates of the Caribbean vibe of this series. That alone was enough to make me pick up Fable, but the excellent writing, fascinating characters, and slow-burn, tension-filled romance made me fall in love with the books.

One thing I will say vaguely is that a giant Easter egg in Fable manifests in Namesake. I was pretty sure I knew what the Easter egg was when I was reading Fable, but I wasn't quite right. It's not exactly what you'd expect. Adrienne Young is so sneaky, she had us thinking one thing, when in fact it was a completely different thing! I have listened to so many of her virtual tour events and Instagram live events, and she was SO sneaky about this Easter egg. Several months after reading Namesake (I'm writing this review in February 2021), I'm still delighted by the Easter egg.

Let's talk about the romance! Fable and West are such an adorable, heartbreakingly beautiful pair. I love the romance of this book, and series. This series - actually, this book (Namesake) has the most romance on page of any of Young's books. I love the slow-burn in Fable, and the pure yearning in Namesake. The romance of this series is one of my all-time favorites of the Young Adult books I've read.

Other relationships are just as important as the romance between Fable and West; for example, Fable's relationship with her father, Saint. But also, Fable's relationship with her mother, Isolde. I can't say anything more about that but... while Fable (book one) was more so about Fable and her father, Namesake is about Fable and her mother. In a way, but not in the way you think. You'll see!

I truly love the characters that Adrienne Young has written. Fable, a smart, brave young woman. West, a selfless, mysterious man with a heart of gold. Saint, a trickster father who keeps his cards close. And the crew of the Marigold, who is the family that Fable never knew she needed. I love the characters of this book, even the "villains", who have such compelling backstories.

Tropes: slow-burn romance, a hint of enemies-to-lovers romance (kind of? between West and Fable), found family, "chosen one"... kind of. You'll see what I mean.

I won't say anything else because I don't want to spoil the book, but I will say that the book ended really well. The series wraps up wonderfully. Adrienne Young proves that you don't need mass chaos and bloodshed to end a series (I'm looking at you, Game of Thrones). I'm not saying there is NO violence at the end, but, the ending is really good. My heart was full, after reading this book. This book is absolutely worth the (short) wait, the marathon binge-read, or however you'll read this series.  

What I Did Not Like:

I have no complaints! This book was such an excellent follow-up to Fable, and an amazing conclusion. I feel like I can't wait always say that about sequels or conclusion novels. 

Would I Recommend It:

If you read Fable, you HAVE to finish this series. Namesake is so easy to read - I finished it quickly, once I started getting into the story. I didn't want to put the book down. This series is such a riveting fantasy series, and it has good crossover appeal to young adult readers and adults. It's a favorite for sure - the series is a favorite in general!

Rating:

5 stars. There was no doubt in my mind that Namesake would be just as incredible as Fable, if not more. Adrienne Young has not disappointed me yet; I can't wait to see what she publishes next!

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Read my review of Fable HERE!

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Blog Tour: A Golden Fury by Samantha Cohoe

Happy Monday! I'm back with a blog tour post about an exciting new Young Adult debut novel - A Golden Fury by Samantha Cohoe. I loooooove historical fiction, and this book caught my eye right away. A Golden Fury is available TOMORROW - check it out below!

About the Book:

A Golden Fury by Samantha Cohoe

Publisher: Wednesday Books:
Publication Date: October 13, 2020

Official Summary:

Set in eighteenth century England, Samantha Cohoe’s debut novel, A GOLDEN FURY (Wednesday Books; October 13, 2020), follows a young alchemist as she tries to save the people she loves from the curse of the Philosopher’s Stone. The streets of London and Oxford come to life as this historical fantasy unravels. Weaving together an alluring story of magic and danger, Samantha’s debut has her heroine making messy decisions as she toes the line between good and evil while it becomes blurred.

Thea Hope longs to be an alchemist out of the shadow of her famous mother. The two of them are close to creating the legendary Philosopher’s Stone—whose properties include immortality and can turn any metal into gold—but just when the promise of the Stone’s riches is in their grasp, Thea’s mother destroys the Stone in a sudden fit of violent madness.

While combing through her mother’s notes, Thea learns that there’s a curse on the Stone that causes anyone who tries to make it to lose their sanity. With the threat of the French Revolution looming, Thea is sent to Oxford for her safety, to live with the father who doesn’t know she exists.

But in Oxford, there are alchemists after the Stone who don’t believe Thea’s warning about the curse—instead, they’ll stop at nothing to steal Thea’s knowledge of how to create the Stone. But Thea can only run for so long, and soon she will have to choose: create the Stone and sacrifice her sanity, or let the people she loves die.

A GOLDEN FURY and the curse of the Philosopher’s Stone will haunt you long after the final page.

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About the Author:

Samantha Cohoe writes historically-inspired young adult fantasy. She was raised in San Luis Obispo, California, where she enjoyed an idyllic childhood of beach trips, omnivorous reading, and writing stories brimming with adverbs. She currently lives in Denver with her family and divides her time among teaching Latin, mothering, writing, reading, and deleting adverbs. A Golden Fury is her debut novel.

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Early Praise for A Golden Fury:

“Sharply written with a crackling, compassionately determined heroine, A Golden Fury is a vivid ride through eighteenth century Europe with darkness and dread creeping at its corners. Utterly enchanting.”

- Emily A. Duncan, New York Times bestselling author of Wicked Saints

"An engaging concoction of fantasy, romance, and historical fiction." - Booklist

"Cohoe situates the supernatural among the historical, referencing the French Revolution and the Enlightenment while...keeping a sense of urgency as Thea struggles with the magical, demonic pull of the Stone."

- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books

"The attention to detail in the story is excellent. Thea herself is a confident lead with a strong voice. A solid fantasy to flesh out the world of alchemy that most readers know only from 'Harry Potter.'" - School Library Journal

“Cohoe transmutes the legend of the Philosopher's Stone into a dark, intoxicating tale of ambition, obsession, and sacrifice. Prepare for a magic that will consume you.”

- Rosamund Hodge, New York Times bestselling author of Cruel Beauty and Bright Smoke, Cold Fire

“Steeped in mystery and magic, Samantha Cohoe’s A Golden Fury immerses readers in beautifully rendered world where magic and science mix, and where the intoxication of power can be deadly. Whip-smart Thea is a heroine readers will root for.” 

- Lisa Maxwell, New York Times bestselling author of The Last Magician

The Excerpt:

My mother was screaming at the Comte. Again.

I slammed the front doors behind me and walked down the carriageway, under the dappled shade of the poplars that lined it. A hundred paces away, I still heard her, though at least I could no longer hear the Comte’s frantic endearments and low, rapid pleading. He should know by now that wasn’t the way. Perhaps I should tell him. Adrien was the first of my mother’s patrons I had ever liked, and I did not want to leave Normandy just as spring was breaking. Just as we were beginning to make progress.

Though perhaps we were not. Mother would not be screaming at the Comte if the work were going well. She would not take the time. Alchemy was a demanding science, even if some scoffed and called it charlatanry or magic. It required total concentration. If the work were going well, the Comte would scarcely exist to her, nor would I, now that she would not let me be of use. The composition must have broken again. This was about when it had, last round. I could not be certain, since she had taken away my key to the laboratory. She could hardly have de- vised a worse insult than that if she had tried, and lately she did seem to be trying. The laboratory was mine as much as it was hers. If she did succeed in producing the White Elixir—which turned all metals into silver—then it was only because of my help. She had found Jābir’s text languishing in a Spanish monastery, but it had been I who translated it when her Arabic wasn’t nearly up to the job. I had labored for months over the calcinary furnace to make the philosophic mercury the text took as its starting point. I had the scars on my hands and arms to prove it. And now that success might be close, she wished to shut me out and deny my part, and claim it for herself alone.

But if she was acting ill and cross, it meant she had failed. A low, smug hum of satisfaction warmed me. I didn’t want the work to fail, but I didn’t want her to succeed without me, either.

A distant smashing sound rang out from the chateau. My mother shattering something against the wall, no doubt.

I sighed and shifted my letter box to the crook of my other arm.

I knew what this meant. Another move. Another man. The Comte had lasted longer than the rest. Over two years, long enough that I had begun to hope I would not have to do it all again. I hated the uncertainty of those first weeks, before I knew what was expected of me, whether Mother’s new patron had a temper and what might set it off, whether he liked children to speak or be silent. Though I was no longer a child, and that might bring its own problems. A chill passed over me, despite the warm afternoon sunshine. God only knew what the next one would be like. My mother had already run through so many of them. And with the recent changes in France, there were fewer rich men than ever looking to give patronage to an expensive alchemist, even one as beautiful and famous as Marguerite Hope.

I veered off the carriageway, into the soft spring grass, dotted here and there with the first of the lavender anemones. I sat by the stream, under the plum tree.

There was no screaming here, no pleading, no signs that my life was about to change for the worse. I inhaled the soft, sweet scent of plum blossoms and opened my letter box. If this was to be my last spring in Normandy, I wanted to re- member it like this. Springtime in Normandy was soft and sweet, sun shining brightly and so many things blossoming that the very air was perfumed with promise. Everything was coming extravagantly to life, bursting out of the dead ground and bare trees with so much energy other impossible things seemed likely, too. I had always been hopeful in Normandy when it was spring. Especially last spring, when Will was still here. When we sat under this very tree, drank both bottles of champagne he had stolen from the cellars, and spun tales of everything we could achieve.

I took out his last letter, dated two months ago.

Dear Bee,

This is my address now—as you see I’ve left Prussia. It turns out that everything they say about the Prussians is quite true. I’ve never met a more unbending man than my patron there. One day past the appointed date and he tried to throw me in prison for breach of contract! He thinks alchemy can be held to the same strict schedule as his serfs.

Laws against false alchemists were very harsh in Germany, as Will knew full well when he sought patronage there. I had begged him to go somewhere else, though he had few enough choices. He was my mother’s apprentice, with no achievements of his own to make his reputation. His training had been cut abruptly short when Mother found us together under this plum tree, watching the sun- rise with clasped hands and two empty bottles of champagne. She’d seen to it that Will was gone by noon. It was no use telling her that all we’d done was talk through the night, or that the one kiss we’d shared had been our first, and had gone no further. He had behaved with perfect respect for me, but she wouldn’t believe it. My mother had imagined a whole path laid before my feet in that moment, and scorched it from the earth with Greek fire.

I turned to the next page.

I blame myself, of course, Bee, for not heeding your advice. I can picture your face now, wondering what I expected. It would almost be worth all the trouble I’ve caused myself if I could come to you and see your expression. You must be the only woman in the world who is never lovelier than when you’ve been proven right.

The keen thrill of pleasure those words had brought me when I first read them had faded now, and left me feeling uncertain. Should I write back knowingly, teasing him for his recklessness? I had tried this, and was sure I sounded like a scold no matter what he said about my loveliness when proven right. I took out my latest draft, which struck a more sincere tone. I read the lines over, saying how I worried for him, how I missed him. I crumpled it in my hand halfway through. Too much emotion. It didn’t do to show such dependence on a man. My mother had shown me that. I didn’t wish to emulate her in everything, but I would be a fool to deny her skill at winning masculine devotion. I tried again.

Dear Will,

I am sitting under the plum tree where we had our last picnic. I know how you feel about nostalgia, but I hope you will forgive me this one instance. I fear this will be our last spring in Normandy—perhaps even in France. Many of my mother’s friends have left already, and though you may well condemn

them as reactionaries, the fact remains that there are very few good Republicans with the ready cash to pay for our pursuits.

I sighed again and crumpled the page. Somehow I could never seem to write to him about the Revolution without a touch of irony creeping in. I didn’t want that. Will had put his hopes for a better world in the new order, and even though I was less hopeful than he, I loved him for it. At least he wanted a better world. Most alchemists simply wanted better metals.

I tried to imagine he was here. It wouldn’t be difficult then. He was so good at setting me at ease. His admiration was as intoxicating as wine, but unlike wine it sharpened my wits instead of dulling them. I was never cleverer than when Will was there to laugh with me.

My chest constricted at the memory of Will’s laugh. I didn’t know anyone who laughed like him. The Parisian aristocrats I had known all had so much consciousness of the sound they made when they did it. The Comte wasn’t like them, but he was a serious man and laughed rarely. My mother didn’t laugh at all.

But Will. He laughed like it came from the loud, bursting core of him. Like he couldn’t have kept it in if he wanted to, and why would he want to? And when he was done laughing, he would look at me like no one else ever had. Like he saw only me, not as an accessory to my mother, but as myself. And not as an odd girl whose sharp edges would need to be softened. Will liked the edges. The sharper they cut, the more they delighted him.

“Thea!”

I threw my letters into the letter box and snapped it shut. I looked around for somewhere to hide the box, and noticed too late that one of my crumpled drafts had blown toward the stream. My mother appeared on the hill above me, the late afternoon sun lighting up her golden hair like an unearned halo. She walked down the hill with measured steps and stopped a few yards above me, I assumed because she wished to enjoy the experi- ence of being taller than me again for a few moments. Her eye moved to the crumpled paper. I ran to it and stuffed it into my pocket before she could take it, though my haste in hiding the failed letter told her all I didn’t wish her to know.

“Oh dear,” said my mother. “I do hope you haven’t been wasting your afternoon trying to find the right words to say to that boy.”

My mother was tolerant of my letter writing these days, perhaps because she was confident I would never see Will again. She had smiled when she heard of Will’s contract in Prussia. He won’t find it so easy to charm his way past the Prussian alchemy laws. In Germany, one must deliver results, not pretty smiles, or end in prison.

“I wouldn’t have an afternoon to waste if you would let me into the laboratory,” I said.

“Don’t be pitiful, Thea,” said my mother. “Surely you can think of something worthwhile to do when I don’t happen to need your assistance.”

I clenched my teeth so tight that my jaw ached. Shutting me out of the laboratory, our laboratory, was the greatest injustice she had ever committed against me. Worse than all the moving about, worse than sending Will away, worse than any insult she could think to level at me. Before she had done that, I believed we were together in alchemy at least, even if nothing else. That she had raised and trained me not simply to be of use to her, but to be her partner. Her equal, one day. Throwing me out of the lab- oratory just when we might achieve what we had worked for told me that Will was right. She would never let me claim credit for my part of the work. She would never accept me as an alchemist in my own right.

And yet she described it as though she had simply let me off my chores. As if I were no more necessary than a servant. There was no point in arguing with her, but even so I could not let it stand.

“I am not your assistant,” I said.

“Oh?” she asked. “Do you have news, then? Have you found a patron on your own merits? Do you intend to strike out on your own?”

“Perhaps I will,” I said, my face growing hot. “Perhaps I will stay here when you are finally finished tormenting the poor Comte.”

My mother had a perfect, deceptively sweet beauty: golden blond and blue-eyed with a round, doll-like face. It made the venom that sometimes twisted her expression hard to quite believe in. Many men simply didn’t. They preferred to ignore the evidence of their minds for the evidence of their senses. I, of course, knew her better than they did. I tensed, preparing.

But instead of lashing out, my mother turned aside, a hand to her chest. A tremor passed over her; she bowed her head against it.

Mother had been strangely unwell for weeks. At first I responded to her illness as she had taught me to, with distaste and disapproval, as though falling sick were an ill-considered pastime of those with insufficient moral fortitude. But if she noticed how unpleasant it was to receive so little sympathy when unwell, she did not show it. She had locked herself away in the laboratory every day until late at night, ignoring my silence as much as she ignored the Comte’s pleas that she rest. I had not thought much of it until this moment. Any pain great enough to turn her from chastising me for thinking I could do alchemy with- out her must be serious indeed.

“Mother?” I asked.

“You will go where I tell you.” Her voice was low and breathless, almost a gasp. “For now, that is to dinner. Wear the green taffeta.”

“The robe à la française?” I asked, perplexed. I hadn’t worn that dress since before the Estates General met. Its style was the hallmark of the ancien régime: wide pan- niered hips, structured bodice, and elaborate flounces. 

“But it’s out of fashion.”

“So is our guest,” said my mother.

She went up the hill again, then turned back to me at the top.

“Thea,” she said, all the sharpness gone from her voice. “I know you do not believe it any longer, but everything I do is for you.”

It was the sort of thing she always said. Before this year, I had always believed it, more or less. At least, everything she did was for the both of us. She had considered me an extension of herself, so that doing things for me was no different than doing them for herself. Why else take so much care to train me, to see to it that I had the tutors I needed to learn every language necessary—more even than she knew? To take me with her in all her travels to seek out manuscripts? She was an impatient teacher at times, but a good one. A thorough one. And in turn I was a good student. The best.

Until we were close to our goal. Then, suddenly, I was a rival. And my mother did not tolerate rivals.

“You are right, Mother,” I said. “I don’t believe that any longer.”

Doesn't this book sound awesome? Let me know of your thoughts in the comments!

Review: Fable by Adrienne Young

Fable by Adrienne Young

Book One of the Fable series

Publisher: Wednesday Books

Publication Date: September 1, 2020

Rating: 5 stars

Source: Copy provided by the publisher

Summary (from Goodreads):

Filled with all of the action, emotion, and lyrical writing that brought readers to Sky in the Deep, New York Times bestselling author Adrienne Young returns with Fable, the first book in this new captivating duology.

Welcome to a world made dangerous by the sea and by those who wish to profit from it. Where a young girl must find her place and her family while trying to survive in a world built for men.

As the daughter of the most powerful trader in the Narrows, the sea is the only home seventeen-year-old Fable has ever known. It’s been four years since the night she watched her mother drown during an unforgiving storm. The next day her father abandoned her on a legendary island filled with thieves and little food. To survive she must keep to herself, learn to trust no one and rely on the unique skills her mother taught her. The only thing that keeps her going is the goal of getting off the island, finding her father and demanding her rightful place beside him and his crew. To do so Fable enlists the help of a young trader named West to get her off the island and across the Narrows to her father.

But her father’s rivalries and the dangers of his trading enterprise have only multiplied since she last saw him and Fable soon finds that West isn't who he seems. Together, they will have to survive more than the treacherous storms that haunt the Narrows if they're going to stay alive.

Fable takes you on a spectacular journey filled with romance, intrigue and adventure.

What I Liked:

It has certainly been a while since I reviewed a book. But there was no way I wasn't going to write a review for Fable. I've been reading - no, savoring - Fable for months. This book was exactly what I needed to pull me out of a deep reading slump. This novel is full of high risks, adventure, friendship, found family, and a swoony slow-burn romance.

Fable is the daughter of a powerful trader (Saint), who abandoned her on a dangerous island just hours after her mother drowned during a storm at sea. Surviving on this treacherous island hasn't been easy, but Fable has been honing her skills as a deep-sea dredger to collect precious stones and gems to trade for money, so she can get off the island. But circumstances can change at the turn of the tide, and Fable finds herself in a desperate situation to get off the island. With the reluctant help of a trader, West, Fable gets off the island, and she is determined to find her father and demand her rightful place on his ship. 

I had a feeling that I would love this book before I picked it up because the summary is so intriguing, but I also had read other books by Adrienne Young and I was expecting another excellent story. Young absolutely delivered on this. This story gave me Pirates of the Caribbean vibes in the summary, and I definitely got that feeling as I was reading. The atmosphere is exciting, but also eerie/threatening/dangerous, in a sense. I love the undercurrent of danger that runs through the story, and ratchets up at the climax. One thing Young does so well is building that tension throughout the story.

From the first page, I really liked Fable. She is a heroine that is easy to like and relate to (even if you aren't in a situation like she is - most of us aren't!). She is such a strong young woman who has been put in an incredibly difficult do-or-die situation for most of her life. She is so resilient - but she isn't perfect. Her own mistakes lead her to scrambling off the island, which leads to more problems. Fable "enters" this story as a clever, tough, determined individual, but she becomes even more so as the story progresses. She opens her heart to the strangers of the Marigold, which could be a big mistake. In doing so, she finds a family that she has never had, even when her parents were in her life.

You won't just fall in love with Fable - you'll love West, and the rest of the Marigold crew. West is such a mysterious character with so many layers of backstory and tragedy. I am terribly fond of characters who aren't who they seem, and who don't trust anyone, and who have had to make awful decisions in the past. Both West and Fable are this type of character. The other members of the crew are mistrustful of Fable at first - especially Willa - and with good reason.

There is slow-burn, sweet romance in this book, and I love it so much. I shipped this couple from their initial interaction of the book, and I want them to get a happy ending so badly. There is also another romance between secondary characters which I loved. 

The ending of this book is a pretty intense cliffhanger, so be prepared to be screaming for book two when you get to the last page. I personally hate cliffhangers and I appreciate the heads-up, so that I can binge-read the series when it is published, but I read this book so early (back in January) and had no idea about the cliffhanger. The good thing is, Namesake publishes in March!

Fable is one of those stories that lingers in my mind, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I am so happy that the book has lived up to its predecessors and the hype, and I can't wait to read the conclusion to the series. 

What I Did Not Like:

Like I said, I personally don't like cliffhangers. Even in a series, I love it when the author wraps up each book, but perhaps the "big picture" plot hasn't been quite wrapped up, or something like that. I understand the need to "hook" the reader, but cliffhangers are so mean (especially when a series gets cancelled or more books are never published, for whatever reason!). As far as cliffhangers go, this is a pretty intense one, so it's a great type of cliffhanger but readers are going to be upset that Namesake isn't available yet. Hang in there!

Would I Recommend It:

I absolutely would recommend this book - especially as someone who has been in a months-long reading slump. If you're looking for action/adventure with a slow-burn romance in the background, this is a great book to read. It has crossover appeal so I would say that adults, young adults, and maybe even upper middle grade readers could read and love this book. 

Rating:

5 stars. I will read anything Adrienne Young writes. Fable has cemented that. I can't wait to read Namesake!

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My Favorite Swoons from YA Books

Hey friends! Today is yet another day in which I didn't feel like writing/posting a review, so I'm doing another favorites post! You can check out my favorite YA foreign editions posts HERE, favorite YA books (alphabet style) HERE, and favorite YA books with one-word titles HERE. 

In the spirit of Valentine's Day (week), here are some of my favorite swoons from YA books!

Note: this isn't a definitive list, as usual! You can see all of my Swoon Thursday posts HERE.

She pressed her lips to his, softly at first. His hands circled her waist, and he parted his legs, pulling her closer to him. His fingers slipped beneath her shirt, tracing the bare skin of her back, and it didn't matter that she had something to tell him, because she'd forgotten how to talk.

She climbed into his lap, letting her knees rest on either side of him. Her lips left his for a moment, and he leaned forward to catch them again.

She'd kissed him before. She'd kissed him in this bed before, even. But this was different. This was her body on fire, her brain turned to mush. This was nothing but him and the heat of his breath on her mouth.

Swoon Thursday

"What are you doing to me, you plague of a girl?" he whispered.

"If I'm a plague, then you should keep your distance, unless you plan on being destroyed." The weapons still in her grasp, she shoved against his chest.

"No." His hands dropped to her waist. "Destroy me."

The bow and arrow clattered to the ground as he brought his mouth to hers.

And there was no turning back.

She was drowning in sandalwood and sunlight. Time ceased to be more than a notion. Her lips were hers one moment. And then they were his. The taste of him on her tongue was like sun-warmed honey. Like cool water sliding down her parched throat. Like the promise of all her tomorrows in a single sigh. When she wound her fingers in his hair to draw her body against his, he stilled for a breath, and she knew, as he knew, that they were lost. Lost forever.

Swoon Thursday

Lightning flashed outside, bright and hot. They moved at the same time, his mouth meeting hers, hungry and gentle and warm. His chiaan [energy] poured into her, faster than before, and it fused with her own, twining through Nalia. She tried to resist it, didn't want to be this close to Raif, to be distracted from what she knew she had to do -

Raif leaned against the table next to them and pulled her closer, his kiss deepening until she didn't know what was her and what was him. The kiss lasted forever, and no time at all. It was the first experience Nalia had of feeling safe, truly safe, and for a while it didn't matter that this might be the last beautiful moment of her short life.

Swoon Thursday

She smelled the clean, male scent of him, felt the rougher texture of his skin against her cheek, and drew a shaking breath. That pulse she had so brutally suppressed hammered into every part of her body, her fingers bunching with sensation. She found herself turning her face to meet his careful progress, her lips finding the soft curve of his mouth. They both paused, breath mingling, and then she felt the warm pressure of his tongue against her own, the taste of him, salt and wine, merging with the clean smell of his skin. It was startling and tender... and then it changed. Something wild crashed through her, a wave of throbbing energy that drove her up against his body, her fingers winding hard into the short crop of his hair. She felt him sway back, his breath catching into a gasp. She opened her eyes and saw the shock in his face flare into something more primal. She wrested him back to her mouth, any tenderness subsumed by animal need. He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her hard onto his chest, both of them locked into the dizzying sensation of their mouths and tongues and bodies pressed against each other. She felt as if she wanted to crawl into his skin, taste him, touch him, fill herself with him.

Swoon Thursday

"Don't talk." I press a kiss to her throat, feeling her pulse racing beneath my lips, its rhythm confirming that her blood is rushing as fast as mine."

"Niklaas wait, I -"

I slip my hand from her hair, trapping her jaw between my fingers as I fit my mouth to hers, cutting her off with a kiss. She moans, a panicked sound that surprises me as it vibrates across my skin, but when I part my mouth, she parts hers, too, her lips gliding over mine with a ragged sigh. She doesn't pull away, and after a moment I regain the courage to angle my head, then rushing out, warming the whisper of space between her mouth and mine.

A whisper is too much.

Swoon Thursday

So I didn't say anything else as I closed the last of the distance between us.

He said he would have torn the desert apart looking for me. And I felt in that kiss his desperation as his mouth found mine.

It wasn't enough with Jin; it was never enough. His hands were in the mess of my torn palace clothes, trying to find me under the too-heavy stitching and the weight of the gaudy khalat. One hand tangled into my hair, pulling away the delicate gold circlet that still clung there. He freed it from my hair, casting it aside, pulling pieces of the palace away from me, trying to return me to him.

It was like being caught in a wildfire, desperate for breath, like if we stopped we would extinguish. Without thinking, I pulled my hands away from his chest. It took one quick movement for my torn khalat to join his shirt in the heap on the groun, until I was waring nothing but the thin linen chemise underneath.

Swoon Thursday

"Tell me you're real."

"I'm real," I whisper. "I'm still here. I can ask you more questions, if you'd like."

"Later," he says.

Then Kiaran's lips are on mine. Hard. Desperate. Like he can't get enough of me; like I'm going to disappear. As if at any moment, he's going to wake up from this dream and I'll be gone.

Kiaran kisses me like he's about to lose me all over again.

He isn't gentle. There's no softness, no hesitancy, no delicate touches. And I don't want kind. I don't want gentle. My desire is just as fierce, just as demanding. I grasp the back of his shirt, digging in toughly with my fingernails. More. I want more. I need this. I need him. I pull back only briefly to yank off my shirt, the rest of my clothes, his. Then it's Kiaran's skin against mine and we're both burning, kissing, biting, clawing. It's a physical urgency, a devouring need, a benediction of yes, now, more.

Swoon Thursday

Her breath was so short she could hardly speak. She had one hand on his chest, the rhythm of it fast and hard beneath her palm. He was so beautiful, and so unsure, and she had never been more so.

"Sophia...," he whispered.

She slipped her other arm around his bruised neck and put her lips on the pulse at the case of his throat.

He made a noise somewhere deep in his chest, and then he had his mouth on hers, hard, holding her head still as she was pressed back, rattling the shelves, and then back again until she hit the wall. All at once she was boiling, frantic, trying to kiss him more, hold him closer with fistfuls of his shirt, pinned by his body to the painted plaster. He seemed to have forgotten his worries about noise. It was a long time before his lips broke away and he put his forehead against hers, breath coming fast.

Swoon Thursday

He pushed me inside, kicked the door shut, and flung me back against it, his mouth hot and fervent on mine. I locked my arms around his neck, drowning in sensation. He felt warm, solid, and tough. His weight crushed me, delicious and real. I'd imagined this moment. I'd dreamed about it, but my imagination was a poor substitute for the real thing. My blood seemed to melt, pouring through me in throbbing surges and leaving me light-headed.

He ran his hand up my arm, and I quivered.

At my response, his arms, which had been braced on either side of my shoulders, tightened around me.

I hung my fingers on the waistband of his jeans, trying to balance myself. My knees felt slippery, weak. Desire washed over me, each new wave quicker and sharper. When my fingertips brushed the smooth skin where his jeans rode his hips, he shivered and kissed me harder. 

Swoon Thursday

Juliana laughed lightly and opened her mouth to argue but Spencer was no longer hesitant. He placed his bandaged hand behind her head and drew her close. With his other hand, he gently tilted her chin and then slowly trailer his fingertips down the side of her neck, until his neck until his hand came to rest on her shoulder. He pulled her closer still, even as their lips touched.

It was a tender kiss at first. Their lips barely met. But the warmth of their shared breath, the press of their bodies and the heat pulsing between them lengthened the kiss and deepened it. Juliana grabbed tightly at Spencer's lapel.

She heard a soft moan and a hum of pleasure but had no idea which one of them made which sound. It didn't matter. Her eyes were closed, and the only things that existed in the world were Spencer's tender strength and the sense of intoxication rushing through her body, warming her all over. 

Swoon Thursday

I post a new swoon every Thursday! You can read all of them by clicking the button below. There are many more good ones - these are just ten of my favorite!

My Favorite YA Books with One-Word Titles

Hey friends! Today is yet another day in which I didn't feel like writing/posting a review, so I'm doing another favorites post! You can check out my favorite YA foreign editions posts HERE, and favorite YA books (alphabet style) HERE. 

Here are some of my favorite YA books, with one-word titles!

Note: this isn't a definitive list! Also I didn't include books starting with "The".

       

I'll probably be editing this post in the future, as I think of more titles! I'm trying to focus more on older backlist ones. Tell me some of your favorite YA books with one-word titles!