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“We’re all a little broken. No one goes through life with a whole heart.“
Nalini Singh Angel’s Dance (via greekdreamsaremadeofthis)
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“ Lace Paloma may be new to her family’s show, but she knows as well as anyone that the Corbeaus are pure magia negra, black magic from the devil himself. Simply touching one could mean death, and she’s been taught from birth to keep away. “ - Reading this makes me want to read the book.

Title: The Weight of Feathers
Author: Anna-Marie McLemore
Prompt: 32 - A book written by a trans and/or non-binary author
Rating: 4/5 stars
Summary (from Amazon): For twenty years, the Palomas and the Corbeaus have been rivals and enemies, locked in an escalating feud for over a generation. Both families make their living as traveling performers in competing shows-the Palomas swimming in mermaid exhibitions, the Corbeaus, former tightrope walkers, performing in the tallest trees they can find. Lace Paloma may be new to her family’s show, but she knows as well as anyone that the Corbeaus are pure magia negra, black magic from the devil himself. Simply touching one could mean death, and she’s been taught from birth to keep away. But when disaster strikes the small town where both families are performing, it’s a Corbeau boy, Cluck, who saves Lace’s life. And his touch immerses her in the world of the Corbeaus, where falling for him could turn his own family against him, and one misstep can be just as dangerous on the ground as it is in the trees.
Review: I loved this book. It has gorgeous prose, and I loved the descriptions of each families performances. I really enjoyed the families at war, and how the two families had similar misconceptions about each other. The main protagonists were likable, and there were some very interesting side characters. However, I found the romance okay, but unengaging, and the ending felt rushed. Overall, I would recommend it to anyone with an interest in magical realism, or star-crossed love stories. Be warned though, there are depictions of child abuse and racism.
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“My mother called this morning for the first time in six months. I did not mention our breakup. I did not mention you at all and neither did she. She won’t because she’ll want me to bring it up. To cry as I spill the truth of how I drove you away with my neediness and cold attitude. I won’t say a word. There’s no way I’d tell her what really happened. There is no way I would slice myself open, vulnerable and awaiting her toxic mothering to infect me when my soul is too weary to protect itself.”
A short piece in letter form
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