My favourite thing about the book is Kropf’s way with words. She really knows how to turn a phrase and the descriptions of the settings, people and everything in between had my imagination running wild as the story played out around me like a movie. Kropf’s style is whimsical and captivating, it was like reading an old classic, but much more fun! The Quarrel of Sword and Bone was a death sentence for anyone who stepped into the arena with the deranged Queen, whose soul had crisped to frost in an age long since past.

I hope you’re getting into the holiday spirit, and if not, then you’re about to, because the 12 Days of Bookish Christmas Blog Hop is here! Are you alright, Trite? she asked again in a pressing tone that made me think she had somewhere to be. Her accent wasn’t one I recognized. Antique streetlamps illuminated downtown, prismed in every direction like hovering confetti. Carols blared from the speakers of a newspaper stand whose buzz-like radio sound muddied the familiar melody of Jingle Bells and swallowed most of the other noise in the street. Buildings hosted glassy bouquets of scarlet, green, and gold ornaments, but it was difficult to enjoy the splendour of the season in this bitter flash-freeze. Mix a smidgen of cinnamon, nutmeg, and brown sugar in a tiny bowl (you know your own preferences about how much sweetness you like in your coffee, so make your measurements accordingly.) Throw this right into the filter with your scoops ofcoffee grinds.

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My gasp was lost in the cold wind drifting down the walkways overcrowded with holiday lights and Ontarians in multicoloured mittens. But the street wasn’t just busy with the usual Waterloo crowd, it was also busy with birds.

Clatters echoed through the street like popping fireworks, and a fountain of snow burst up from her boots, its snowy fingers twisting upwards and swallowing her entirely into its throat. I jogged for it, chiming a small bell as I entered, and was immediately encompassed by the scent of pie crust, freshly ground coffee beans, and the sour impatience of old ladies shivering in skirts just like my aunt’s. Hoisting my book bag from the slush, I followed the animal in long strides, imitating the chimney across the street with my puffs of visible steam. Open my…what…? I got the strangest impulse to turn and run—a nervous reaction to her husky, outlandish blabbering and harsh features. The spark had become a torch behind her eyes, her irises glittering like the diamonds in the jeweler’s window.

My muscles seized, lurching me to a halt. I thought I was dreaming, but I couldn’t peel my stare away, even though all I could think about was running for my life. A Soul as Cold as Frost instantly transports you into a magical world that the whole family will adore. Fans of Chronicles of Narnia will be thrilled with this new wintery adventure." - Nikki Mitchell, author of Nightshade Forest It's the Chronicles of Narnia meets Harry Potter. This fantastic winter tale is the perfect blend of classic portal fantasy and the magic world co-existing with our own. It's a beautiful reminder of what is truly important in life." He studied me the way someone might admire a new animal at the zoo; tilting his head in what was either boredom or bland curiosity. After a moment, he raised his hand in what might have been a greeting, but not one I knew. Still though, to be polite, I lifted my hand as well and performed an awkward wave. I turned to go after her, more curious about what she was doing than what was happening in the family room, even if she was just cleaning up in the kitchen.