Rain
A street exists with relentless rain where three streetlamps flicker and a fourth is black.
A street exists with relentless rain where three streetlamps flicker and a fourth is black.
Her father sat her in front of a piano as a child, held her in his lap, brought music into her world.
The road is dark now, fogged with doubt and cold.
Why I’m excited and terrified to read the newest release by Brent Weeks: Night Angel Nemesis, a retrospective.
A status update on what I’ve been up to for the past seven months since my last post.
Book thoughts about Morning Star by Pierce Brown
Book thoughts about Golden Son by Pierce Brown
Book thoughts about Red Rising by Pierce Brown.
Book thoughts about Corinth 2642 AD by Bindiya Schaefer