Dreams of the Dying: The Dark Corners of Our Minds (Enderal Book 1)
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I am by all means a slow reader. No particular reason. The noose drew taut around his neck. A lump blocking his throat. A lie. Of course there were a million, million reasons. But who would want to hear them? But this book grabbed my attention so tightly ... Maybe too tight. He felt the noose loosen just for a moment before it snapped back into place. ...that I finished it in the fraction of the time it usually takes me. And the funny thing is that I've been dreading to read this book, ever since I played Enderal. I have had the hardcover of it gathering dust in my bookshelf since it got published. But I never dared to start until recently. The lump grew bigger, the noose tighter. But he pushed through it with all of his strength. Funnily enough it reassured him. The resistance. The pain. If it was ever gone, would he miss it? Would he still feel whole without it? And I loved it. And for all their flaws, for all the problems characters like Jespar, Agaam and Lissja bring with them, I never grew tired of following their stories. Especially not Jespar, who arguably has more problems than the rest of the Illumined World combined. I am glad that there is more for him and the rest of the world to come. But now, after finishing, my fears have become reality. I so desperately want to read more of Jespar, Lissja, Kawu, and every other ever so minor character within this world. But I can't, and that fact frustrates and delights me at the same time. I haven't gotten lost in a world like this for such a long time. And I cannot wait to get lost once more and find The Cure for Living.
Buchinformationen
Beiträge
I am by all means a slow reader. No particular reason. The noose drew taut around his neck. A lump blocking his throat. A lie. Of course there were a million, million reasons. But who would want to hear them? But this book grabbed my attention so tightly ... Maybe too tight. He felt the noose loosen just for a moment before it snapped back into place. ...that I finished it in the fraction of the time it usually takes me. And the funny thing is that I've been dreading to read this book, ever since I played Enderal. I have had the hardcover of it gathering dust in my bookshelf since it got published. But I never dared to start until recently. The lump grew bigger, the noose tighter. But he pushed through it with all of his strength. Funnily enough it reassured him. The resistance. The pain. If it was ever gone, would he miss it? Would he still feel whole without it? And I loved it. And for all their flaws, for all the problems characters like Jespar, Agaam and Lissja bring with them, I never grew tired of following their stories. Especially not Jespar, who arguably has more problems than the rest of the Illumined World combined. I am glad that there is more for him and the rest of the world to come. But now, after finishing, my fears have become reality. I so desperately want to read more of Jespar, Lissja, Kawu, and every other ever so minor character within this world. But I can't, and that fact frustrates and delights me at the same time. I haven't gotten lost in a world like this for such a long time. And I cannot wait to get lost once more and find The Cure for Living.