Where Would YOU Live?

This week, the YA Highway ladies asked: If you could live within the universe of one book, which would you choose?

To which I respond, just ONE? Eek, I can't decide.

In order to live inside the world of one book, I would need to feel loved and SAFE (mostly). :D

So, I would NOT live in the HUNGER GAMES trilogy, nor the LORD OF THE RINGS (unless it was with the Elves), or MATCHED (where everything is chosen based on odds).

The too obvious answer would be HARRY POTTER, if I could be a wizard too, and stayed away from Lord Voldemort.

I definitely wouldn't want to feel the sadness and pain in ROOM, THE SKY IS EVERYWHERE or IF I STAY.

If I chose based on *hawt boys* it would be: WHITE CAT (and Cassell), DECEPTION (and Bennett), PERFECT CHEMISTRY (and Alex), and ANNA AND THE FRENCH KISS (for Ettienne. Except, I'd choose Italy over France any day).

But instead, I would choose: *drum roll please*

SHIVER

Because of the delicate world Maggie Stiefvater created through Grace's eyes. I'd want to experience the visceral pull of the woods behind her house, and the strong connection to her wolf, Sam.

And then to view the world through Sam's eyes--trapped inside his animal body, relying solely on his instincts, watching and guarding Grace's house from the woods.

The prose was so lovely, the first page drew me right in:

I remember lying in the snow, a small red spot of warm going cold, surrounded by wolves. They were licking me, biting me, worrying at my body, pressing in. Their huddled bodies blocked what little heat the sun offered. Ice glistened on their ruffs and their breath made opaque shapes that hung in the air around us. The musky smell of their coats made me think of wet dog and burning leaves, pleasant and terrifying. Their tongues melted my skin; their careless teeth ripped at my sleeves and snagged through my hair, pushed against my collarbone, the pulse at my neck.

I could have screamed, but I didn't. I could have fought, but I didn't. I just lay there and let it happen, watching the winter-white sky go gray above me.

One wolf prodded his nose into my hand and against my cheek, casting a shadow across my face. His yellow eyes looked into mine while the other wolves jerked me this way and that.

I held on to those eyes for as long as I could. Yellow. And, up close, flecked brilliantly with every shade of gold and hazel. I didn't want him to look away, and he didn't. I wanted to reach out and grab a hold of his ruff, but my hands stayed curled on my chest, my arms frozen to my body.

(photos: Deviant and Amazon)