The Bexley Chronicles series by Brindi Quinn (#1-2)
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Overview: Brindi Quinn is a young adult / teen author from Minnesota, speaking "quirky" in a variety of genres, from paranormal to sci-fi to fantasy.
Quinn has published a plethora of highly-rated works, including novels, compilations and miniseries, all geared toward a young adult audience. Her series have been hailed as addictive, unique reads within the genre by reviewers across platforms.
Genre: Fantasy Paranormal
Lightborne (#1) He cups me close to his face, near his mouth, so that his lips are grazing the reaches of my light. “You’re warm, B.” He grins. “Like a small fluttering bird.”
Then, his grin grows into something edging on salacious, and I have one hasty, breathless thought:
. . . He’s going to kiss me?
Nope.
At the last moment, he opens his mouth and shoves me inside.
If I’m not mistaken, I’ve just been swallowed.
Bexley Lightborne is not your average run-of-the-mill mortal. She’s a realm-hopping, light-wielding badass . . . with just a touch of amnesia.
As shadows from the dark realm invade the world of light, Bexley enlists the help of a foul-mouthed, baby-faced newcomer holding magickal potential . . . who also happens to be the worst human boy Bexley has ever met.
Tethered together, two unlikely heroes will discover the truth of their forgotten bloodline and fight to reclaim what’s been lost, whether they want to or not.
Four colors collide in a war of light.
And all of this magick stuff? Pretty badass.
Nightborne (#2) "Ain’t no shame in that Lightborne game."
I fumble with the latch and slip the pendant into place around my neck. I should know better than to don antiques of questionable origin. Apparently, this is a lesson none of the Bexleys have grasped.
As the chain makes contact with my skin, something unseen moves through the space, through the clearing, through my body. First, it’s the hairs on my arms – standing as if someone’s just run a flush balloon over them. Next, comes the fuzz of my neck, plucking outward in a similar way, inviting a shiver to run down my back. My fingertips swell turquoise. My earlobe sizzles. Lastly, the gears contained at the bottom of the chain rotate against one another, lighting bright blue with magickal power I haven’t offered. And then it’s over, and the gears are dull with my glow.
So I’ve just enchanted a mystical pendant for some unknown purpose.
The purpose isn’t unknown for long.
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