A Soul As Cold As Frost: 1 (The Winter Souls)

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I really liked Jennifer Kropf’s short story in the book Enchanted Waters. And since that was a prequel to this book, I decided to give this one a go. As Helen Bell is whisked into a wintry adventure, from snow squatches, to trains, to magic libraries, frost giants, dwarf dwellings, red palaces, and more, Mia Hutchinson-Shaw provides a stunning array of unique voices in delightful accents. This is a story I enjoyed reading but it was really hard for me to finished it. This book is a fantasy, action story. The author really respected and follow this two genre but it also (although I haven’t seen anyone talking about it) has mystery which in my opinion was written in a very specific way for the reader to really see every scene and every character as a suspect.

I propped myself up on my elbows, ready for some sort of appropriate Canadian apology, but the person dropped to a knee, and I stilled, eyeing the gray knit scarf covering the lower half of their face. I really want to know what’s going to happen next and what adventures are coming from this author. As I said, I enjoyed reading it but there are some things that made my reading go slow. I have to say the characters are really good and definitely I love them. If you want to give it a try do it, it’s really interesting and entertaining but keep in mind what I just wrote. I approached sluggishly to keep it from springing away, and I crouched to study the specimen while my mind raced with explanations based on things I’d read in books.The spark had become a torch behind her eyes, her irises glittering like the diamonds in the jeweler’s window. My heart pounded as I looked both ways down the street, wondering if maybe a theatre performance had just ended at the Centre in the Square in Kitchener and the whole cast had come here in costume. There are so many layers to ASACAF, including clever Christian symbolism woven throughout, bringing this book to another level of storytelling. The Chronicles of Narnia meets Harry Potter. This fantastic winter tale is the perfect blend of classic portal fantasy and the magical world co-existing with our own. This magical Christian fantasy adventure totally hits the spot and got everything right. It is a beautiful reminder of what is truly important in life." ( USA Today best-selling author Astrid V. J.) I jumped in surprise when the still haze erupted into a volcanic blanket of white flakes, littering the end of the street and temporarily eating a streetlamp before it calmed.

Something was seriously wrong with me, and there was no chance I’d be bringing it up with these people who stuffed themselves with spiced bread and hot turkey and declared their opinions with loud voices. Because even though I sat in a room crowded with relatives, I felt the familiar pang of being alone. Same as I did every year during the holidays when I woke up to the cold bite of winter and relived the ache of bad memories that came with it. The figure appeared over my sprawled frame in snow-powdered boots with silk laces that gave off the potent scent of sweet spices and pending excuses. He or she was a solid shadow against the sun burning through the yellowish fog overhead. There was nothing wrong with Helen. I didn’t have anything against her and her personality didn’t particularly annoy me. Having said that, I also had trouble connecting with her at times. I think the author wanted her to be an average teen, which I totally get. While I did enjoy watching her bravery develop, I also craved one more layer or something interesting to remember her by. Would I Recommend? Your aunt tells me she had to leave you in the street to make it here on time, she said to me beneath the chatter of the room. The scolding in her voice was entirely overshadowed by the smirk on her face. I smooshed my face against the window, my hands cupping around my eyes to see where he went. But beyond where the boy had been, two dozen beings of unnatural height congregated around tables, hunching to fit beneath the ceiling. The sight sent a barrel of heat rolling through my stomach. Pointy ears and long noses protruded from their heads, hidden only when they sipped from their steaming mugs. Some of them had to be as tall as the lampposts outside.Never in my sixteen years of life had I believed in things unseen until that day. I had never created an imaginary friend as a child or believed in ghosts or the work of angels. But on that cold December afternoon, everything I knew went up in a gray cloud of smoke. A hand emerged to pull the scarf down, revealing the distinct face of a girl who looked younger than I’d assumed. Despite her ruggedness, she had a soft mouth.