Released: November 18, 2012
Young Adult Fae Fantasy
4. The number of times my delicate wings have been broken and clamped behind my back.
68. The number inked upon my skin, marking me the sixty-eighth pixie to be stolen.
87. The number of days I’ve been wrongfully imprisoned.
88. The first day the faeries will regret stealing me.
Healthy. Cheery. Vivacious. All traits Rosalie has before becoming enslaved by the faeries to make an endless supply of pixie dust. Now that Rosalie has been traumatized by slave labor, extreme desolate conditions and multiple deaths, this hardened pixie is anything but. When this rebellious teenager attempts an escape, she’s isolated in cramped quarters until she learns her place. Just as she begins to let go of all that hope, she finds an unlikely friend in Jack, the faerie assigned to guard her. Interspecies dating is forbidden in the fae world, so their growing attraction is unacceptable. And even if Jack can find a way to free her, they know the prison is the only place they can truly be together.
Clean YA Fantasy but contains mature situations (slavery, torture, etc).
· Rosalie is an incredibly strong-minded pixie, so she’s not an easy one for the guards to break and force into submission. She won’t even recognize the number they’re determined to use instead of her name, which is her last hold to her identity. It’s why I love her when she says, “My name is Rosalie. I may be smaller, I may be weaker, but I was born free, should die free. You will not take this from me.”
· “Why can't our existence be like the stars? Happily twinkling and dancing in the night sky, bringing light and entertainment to all who see? The stars make everyone ponder unanswered questions, makes everyone smile. And no matter who you are, where you are or what you've done, they're always there for you. No matter what.”
· Once Jack befriends Rosalie, he tries his best to make her life in the hole as easy as he can without raising suspicion. Unfortunately, he’s fed her so well that she no longer looks as emaciated as before, so he tries to use his sister’s makeup to make her skin look sickly again. I love this moment because he’s slowly been daring himself to find her attractive. He smears the powder down the outside edges of my eyes, along my cheekbones and a little across my chin. “Am I ugly yet?” I ask. Huffing, he replies, “Hardly. Not even makeup’s going to achieve that.
· My mind drowns me with dreadful thoughts of a love that I never had the chance to experience. How cruel a heart can be when it doesn’t get what it wants. Fear of unrequited love makes Rosalie’s time in the hole absolutely miserable, even though she has the company of a man who makes her feel alive again, and it’s so sad to see her suffer like that.
· “I love you!” I blurt out. Oh. My. Mother. Nature! Did I just shout that? Those words were meant to be beautiful. The way I just blurted them out, tears rolling down my face, mucous making my voice sound distorted, this was anything but beautiful. Yeah, it’s obvious to anyone who’s read Dust why I like this quote. Rosalie knows the end is near and becomes so desperate to say what’s in her heart that she blurts it out at the most inopportune moment.
I’m a mom, wife, a lover and a fighter, coffee addict, wicked knitster, Microbiologist, baker of fine yummy treats, and someone who will fight you to death for that last twinkie bag of M&Ms during the zombie-apocalypse. Seriously, my addiction is that important to me. Oh yeah, and writing is cool too!
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