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Quote by Abigail Bostic

“I smiled at him. But my mind was somewhere else. Running through memories of me and my childhood best friend. At how he looked at me, talked to me, laughed with me, and anything else he did with me. Then I remembered his words. "Because in a braking world, you're still the one I would look for, no matter what." I knew he never truly said he loved me, maybe thought about it, but never said it. And if he ever gave a clue to it. I always ignored them.”

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Abigail Bostic

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“The kings drones!" Kenith said. My eyes widened. I couldn't move as the light moved closer and closer until I saw it crawling up my body. Madson and David both grabbed and pulled me behind a burnt down building. My eyes fogged, heart beating to fast I couldn't hear anything. I saw Madson say something, the fear in Kenith's eyes, the worry on David's face. Soon I started to relax, I could hear what Madson was saying in a fast, low voice. "She may not make it out here." David's comeback. "She's fine. Everyone has there own fears to face. This is hers." "I don't care. I promised no harm." "Then lets move." All eyes came to me as I stood and started walking, I didn't need to look back to know they would follow.”

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Author:Abigail Bostic
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“You say your name is?" "Redlyn Dark." I say "Redlyn. Do you know what Redlyn means in this world?" I didn't answer. "It means," the king griped my face with one hand hard enough to hurt. "It means to different things. One, the word Red means blood. Two the whole name Redlyn means worrier." I nodded. I've heard what my name means before. "Do you know why your name means what it means?" The king turned my face to each side over and over again. I stayed quiet. "Answer the question, Redlyn." "Because the color red is the same as blood and Redlyn is what the legend says a child will be named and she will be a worrier." The king's grip tightened, I wanted to cry out, but I couldn't. "You're wrong. I do not care for you're nickname, Redlyn is the name of a worrier queen who left her kingdom in order to find and kill the worlds powerful and dangers people.”

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Author:Abigail Bostic
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“Thundering hooves beat the frozen ground, faster and faster as the rider whipped the horse. Snow and mud lay thick on the earth, and rogue snowflakes drifted through the night sky. Celaena ran—swifter than her young legs could manage. Everything hurt, Trees ripped at her dress and hair; stones sliced her feet. She scrambled through the woods, breathing so hard she couldn't muster the air to cry for help. She must reach the bridge. It couldn't cross the bridge. Behind her, a sword shrieked as it was drawn from its sheath. She fell, slamming into mud and rock. The sound of the approaching demon filled the air as she struggled to rise. But the mud held fast, and she could not run.”

DreamingCelaena SardothienBackstory
Book:Throne of Glass
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“A passerby discovered a toddler sitting on the chilly concrete on an alley, playing with the wrapper of a cat food container. By the time she was brought to the hospital, her limbs were blue with cold. She was a wizened little thing, too thin, made of sticks. She knew only one word, her name. Wren. As she grew, her skin retained a slight bluish cast, resembling skimmed milk. Her foster parents bundled her up in jackets and coats and mittens and gloves, but unlike her sister, she was never cold. Her lip colour changed like a mood ring, staying bluish and purple even in summer, turning pink only when close to a fire. And she could play in the snow for hours, constructing elaborate tunnels and mock-fighting with icicles, coming inside only when called. Although she appeared bony and anaemic, she was strong. By the time she was eight, she could lift bags of groceries that her adoptive mother struggled with. By the time she was nine, she was gone.”

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Book:The Stolen Heir
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