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Wikipedia Summary for Sarah J. Maas
Sarah Janet Maas (born March 5, 1986) is an American fantasy author, best known for her debut series Throne of Glass published in 2012 and A Court of Thorns and Roses series, published in 2015. Her newest work is the Crescent City series. As of 2021, she has sold over twelve million copies of her books and has been translated into thirty-seven languages.
His words were a lethal caress as he said, "Did you enjoy the sight of me kneeling before you?
A snap of Rhys’s fingers, and my nightclothes—and some flimsy underthings—appeared on the bed. "I couldn’t decide which scrap of lace I wanted you to wear, so I brought you a few to choose from.”
"Pig,” I barked
I am not inclined to sit through pages of nonsense and bloated speech.
- Dorian.
Sarah J Maas, Throne of Glass.
The power shall always belong to those who give their lives to the city.
They passed a series of wooden doors that she'd seen a few minutes ago. If she wanted to escape, she simply had to turn left at the next hallway and take the stairs down three flights. The only thing all the intended disorientation had accomplished was to familiarize her with the building. Idiots.
If they wanted Adarlan's Assassin, they'd get her.
And Wyrd help them when she arrived.
My name is Celaena Sardothien. But it makes no difference if my name's Celaena or Lillian or Bitch, because I'd still beat you, no matter what you call me.
Gavriel's son was bellowing Whitethorn's name. A gods-damned victory cry. Over and over, the men taking up the call.
Then Fenrys's voice lifted.
And Gavriel's.
And that red-haired queen.
The Havilliard king.
On into battle, on into bloodshed, they called the prince's name.
He won every game, yet she hardly noticed. As long as she hit the ball, it resulted in shameless bragging. When she missed -- well, even the fires of Hell couldn't compare to the rage that burst from her mouth. He couldn't remember a time when he'd laugh so hard.
She knew he meant it. He'd burn the library, the city or the whole world to ashes if she asked him. It was their bond, marked by blood and scent and something else she couldn't place. A tether as strong as the one that bound her to her parents. Stronger, in some ways.
Aelin Galathynius smiled at her, hand still outreached. Get up. the princess said.
Celaena reached across the earth between them and brushed her fingers against Aelin's.
And arose.
Because I wouldn't want to die alone, I said, and my voice wobbled as I looked at Tamlin again, forcing myself to meet his stare. Because I'd want someone to hold my hand until the end, and awhile after that.
That's something everyone deserves, human or faerie.
We'll start over. Do things differently. When you were gone, I realized... I'd been wrong. So wrong, Feyre. And I'm sorry.
Too late. Too damned late.
Was I interrupting? I thought it was over. Rhys gave me a smile dripping with venom. He knew-through that bond, through whatever magic was between us, he'd known I was about to say no. At least Feyre seemed to think so.
When you spend so long trapped in darkness, you find that the darkness begins to stare back.
Aedion -- every breath she took seemed to echo his name. Aedion, Aedion, Aedion.
Everyone wants to talk-talk-talk. Can't we eat-eat-eat, and then talk?
Cauldron save you.
Mother hold you.
Pass through the gates, and smell that immortal land of milk and honey.
Fear no evil.
Feel no pain.
Go, and enter eternity.
I could be soft and lovely at sunset, and awaken in the morning to slide into Illyrian fighting leathers.
The great joy and honour of my life has been to know you. To call you my family. And I am grateful -- more than I can possibly say -- that I was given this time with you all.
Anger was better than feeling nothing; because anger and hatred were the long-lasting fuel in the endless dark of my despair. The same way that music had kept me from breaking.
You dare glamour me? he growled, his violet eyes burning as they bore into my own. Lucien just pressed me harder into the wall.
Sometimes, the wicked will tell us things just to confuse us -- to haunt our thoughts long after we've faced them.
And even if the laws had allowed it, he would never take that away from her: the chance to save herself.
There was good in people -- deep down, there was always a shred of good.
For wherever you need to go -- and then some.
The world needs more healers.
I can't tell if I should be ashamed of wanting to hold you on this day, or grateful that, despite what happened before now, it somehow brought me to you.
Some night soon, I'll sneak back in here and we can eat chocolates until we vomit.
We're such refined, genteel ladies.
Please, Lysandra said, waving a manicured hand, you and I are nothing but wild beasts wearing human skins. Don't even try to deny it.
Like a prayer, that was how her name sounded on his lips. She took his face in her hands, finding his eyes blazing, his breathing as ragged as her own.
Libraries were full of ideas--perhaps the most dangerous and powerful of all weapons.
But perhaps the monsters needed to look out for each other every now and then.
And I wondered if love was too weak a word for what he felt, what he'd done for me. For what I felt for him.
If you were going to die, I was going to die with you. I couldn't stop thinking it over and over as you screamed, as I tried to kill her: you were my mate, my mate, my mate.
She stopped as a map of Erilea appeared. Maps had always interested her; there was something bewitching in knowing one's precise location in relation to others on earth.
My dreams have been filled with shadows and wings--the booming of wings soaring between mountain passes.
Towering and heavily muscled, Aedion was every inch the warrior rumor claimed him to be.
You're my equal. And as much as that means we have each other's backs in public, it also means we that grant each other the gift of honesty -- of truth.
I see all of you, Rhys. And there is not one part that I do not love with everything I am.
I love you, Rowan breathed onto her skin, and flicked his tongue over the spot where his canines had scractched. I'd walk into the burning heart of hell itself to find you.
Chaol, he said, looking over his shoulder. Dorian's eyes were frozen, his jaw clenched. Treat her well.
The Court of Dreams.
The people who knew that there was a price, and one worth paying, for that dream.
She was the monster that defended them from the other horrors of the world.
I found him carefully studying me, his lips in a thin line. Has anyone ever taken care of you? he asked quietly.
No. I'd long since stopped feeling sorry for myself about it.
With each day he felt the barriers melting. He let them melt. Because of her genuine laugh, because he caught her one afternoon sleeping with her face in the middle of a book, because he knew she would win.
Magic
Whatever had happened, however it had been freed, Manon didn't care.
That mortal, human weight vanished. Strength coursed through her, coating her bones like armor. Invincible, immortal, unstoppable.
Manon tipped her head back to the sky, spread her arms wide, and roared.
It's so much harder, when enemies turn into friends. And the opposite, I suppose. What didn't I see? What did I overlook or dismiss? It always makes me reassess myself more than them.
Dorian offered a lazy grin in return, believe it or not, this ship has an unnatural number of attractive men and women on board. You'll fit right in, and fit in with the cranky immortals, I suppose.
They had slept in the shelter of the ruins, though neither of them really got true rest.
I have no name, she purred. I'm whoever the keepers of my fate tell me to be.
You have one sentence to convince me not to kill you all,' she said to Archer as Chaol came to her side. 'One sentence.
She leaned forward, letting some of that wicked darkness shine through her eyes.
I like music,' she said slowly, 'because when I hear it, I...I lose myself within myself if that makes any sense. I become empty and full all at once.
A court that wouldn't just change the world. It would start the world over.
She didn't fear the night, though she found little comfort in its dark hours. It was the time when she slept, the time when she stalked and killed, the time when the stars emerged with glittering beauty and made her feel wonderfully small and insignificant.
I would clean my blades, and wash the blood from my skin.
And I would do it again and again and again.
Cadre, yet more than that. Brothers -- the warriors fighting at his side were his brothers. Had stayed with him through all of it. And would continue to do so now.
You didn't tell me this would happen.
You didn't ask. So how am I to blame?
Dance after dance after dance, until sweat was running down my back as I worked to keep up, keep that smile on my face, to remember to laugh when my hands were within strangling distance from his throat.
She batted her eyelashes and readjusted her shackles as if they were lace gloves.
Libraries were full of ideas-perhaps the most dangerous and powerful of all weapons.
Selina Kyle blew out a long breath as she lifted her chin and stepped into the sound and the light and the wrath.
Let the bloodying begin.
It would dishonor the Cauldron's gift of fertility to lock up their instincts, their inherent female magic in bearing life.
Perhaps Nesta will take up the blood-drinking habit, too. I certainly believe her threat to rip out my throat. Maybe she'll enjoy the taste.
Because she wasn't human, Chaol realized, gaping at her from where he still crouched over Fleetfoot.
No -- she wasn't human at all.
Celaena was Fae.
Fae warriors: invaluable in a fight--and raging pains in her ass at all other times.
