Random Books from the Bookshelf is weekly feature hosted by Cookies, Books and Bikes. This weekly feature was created to showcase the first few paragraphs from books that have been sitting on the bookshelf patiently waiting for their turn to be read. I’d like to send a big THANK YOU to WonderBunny for letting me use her awesome feature on my site. Please stop by and visit her blog. Aside from this cool feature, she also posts great book reviews and shares AMAZING cookie recipes!
I don’t read much Fantasy but, I’ve bought a few books over the years to help me with the whole reading outside the box thing. They’ve been ignored long enough so I’ve decided to show them some love today.
Orphans of Chaos by John C. Wright
The estate grounds were, at once, our home, our academy, and our prison. We were outnumbered by campus staff, and by the imposing old Georgian and Edwardian edifices. There were more mares in the stables than there were students in the classrooms. It was only the five of us.
The estate was bound to the North by the Barrows, to the West by the sea cliff, to the East by the low, gray hills of the Downs. What bound us to the South is a matter of dispute.
The Way of Shadows by Brent Weeks
Azoth squatted in the alley, cold mud squishing through his bare toes. He stared at the narrow space beneath the wall, trying to get his nerve up. The sun wouldn’t come up for hours, and the tavern was empty. Most taverns in the city had dirt floors, but this part of the Warrens had been built over marshland, and not even drunks wanted to drink standing ankle-deep in mud, so the tavern had been raised a few inches on stilts and floored with stout bamboo poles.
Coins sometimes dropped through the gaps in the bamboo, and the crawlspace was too small for most people to go after them. The guild’s bigs were too big and the littles were too scared to squeeze into the suffocating darkness shared with spiders and cockroaches and rats and the wicked half-wild tomcat the owner kept. Worst was the pressure of the bamboo against your back, flattening you every time a patron walked overhead. It had been Azoth’s favorite spot for a year, but he wasn’t as small as he used to be. Last time, he got stuck and spent hours panicking until it rained and the ground softened beneath him enough the he could dig himself out.
Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson
Sometimes, I worry that I’m not the hero everyone thinks I am.
The philosophers assure me that this is the time, that the signs have been met. But I still wonder if they have the wrong man. So many people depend on me. They say I will hold the future of the entire world on my arms.
What would they think if they knew that their champion—the Hero of Ages, their savior—doubted himself? Perhaps they wouldn’t be shocked at all. In a way, this is what worries me most. Maybe, in their hearts, they wonder—just as I do.
When they see me, do they see a liar?
Ash fell from the sky.