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A review by moodreadingwithmaddy
A River Enchanted by Rebecca Ross
5.0
A huge reason I am giving this book 5 stars is because the world building is so freaking beautiful. I already feel like I need to reread it so I can take in even more of Cadence that I missed the first time. I love the symbolism, multiple POVS, characterization, pacing, and the love that I can feel Ross put into this book. I read all the way to the end, even her acknowledgements.
Read below to see some of my favorite quotes if you enjoy out of context quotes as much as I do.
Her eyes were the color of wildflower honey. She had freckles on her cheeks, across the bridge of her nose. One was at the corner of her lips.
But she was coming to learn that it was hard to hate what made her feel so alive.
She didn’t quite understand how, but her brothers music was going to save them.
How easy it would be if faith was something tangible like a figurine, something she could hold in her hands, seeing all of the details and how they made the whole. And yet, didn’t the earth prove its faithfulness to her, year after year? Even in winter, when it fell dormant? Sidra always knew the flowers and the grass and the fruit would return come spring.
I am but a verse inspired by your chorus, and I will follow you until the end, when the isle takes my bones and my name is nothing more than a remembrance on a headstone, next to yours.
Read below to see some of my favorite quotes if you enjoy out of context quotes as much as I do.
Her eyes were the color of wildflower honey. She had freckles on her cheeks, across the bridge of her nose. One was at the corner of her lips.
But she was coming to learn that it was hard to hate what made her feel so alive.
She didn’t quite understand how, but her brothers music was going to save them.
How easy it would be if faith was something tangible like a figurine, something she could hold in her hands, seeing all of the details and how they made the whole. And yet, didn’t the earth prove its faithfulness to her, year after year? Even in winter, when it fell dormant? Sidra always knew the flowers and the grass and the fruit would return come spring.
I am but a verse inspired by your chorus, and I will follow you until the end, when the isle takes my bones and my name is nothing more than a remembrance on a headstone, next to yours.