Character ProfileTo Purchase
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SummaryA girl whose oral stories create physical sculptures ends up on the run after telling a forbidden story.
StatsGenre: YA (16+ years) high fantasy with threads of political intrigue and romance.
Series length: Three books Violence: Moderate to strong fantasy violence Magic/Supernatural: Strong supernatural Romance/Sexual: A light romantic subplot, plus one secondary character struggles with results of having been raped multiple times (raped implied, not explicitly spelled out and occur prior to the story's start) Christian/spiritual element: Overt allegorical elements Recommendation: Excellent for boys or girls who enjoy medieval fantasy and high adventure You might like this book if you liked... The Lord of the Rings or X-men |
Opening Lines:
Colored ribbons of light poured from my fingers. One strand broke free and soared above the crowd's head, glowing golden in the afternoon sun. A child in the crowd gasped. "Look, Mam!" I swallowed my smile and pushed all my focus back to my words--practiced over and over until I could say each phrase in fancy, schooled Tirian. Couldn't let any common village speak bleed into the stories all Tirians know so well. My storytelling mentor, Riwor, loomed near the edge of the crowd, eyes narrowed and watching my every breath. She'd make me pay for it if my practiced peddler words slipped into my usual lowborn drawl. Again. |
The Story Peddler (The Weaver Trilogy, Book 1)
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Opening Lines:
Naith Bo-Offriad hurried down the main thoroughfare of Afon. Of all places. How had it come to this? The High Priest of the Tirian Empire skulking down the cobblestoned streets of some peninsular town, praying to the stars not to be noticed by the provincials, should they still be milling about at this hour. |
The Story Raider (The Weaver Trilogy, Book 2)
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Opening Lines:
I stood before the capital city of Urian, unable to breathe. Wispy strands of pearl-gray sorrow cascaded from my hands and pooled on the ground. The city, the one I'd spent most of my young life dreaming about, hadn't been all I'd hoped for--that was true. It hadn't fulfilled me and my desires the way I'd once fantasized it would. But it had been my home for a while. It had been the place where I'd rediscovered my father, alive, after thirteen years apart. The place where we had triumphed over a tyrant, where Braith had rightly been crowned queen, and where I'd thought my future might lie. And now, it was enveloped in chaos. |
The Story Hunter (The Weaver Trilogy, Book 3)
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