Shatter Me

Product Information

I catch the rose petals as they fall from my cheeks, as they float around the frame of my body, as they cover me in something that feels like the absence of courage." One Touch Is All It Takes. One Touch, And Juliette Ferrars Can Leave A Fully Grown Man Gasping For Air. One Touch, And She Can Kill. I’ve never been a purple prose type of girl. A book that will forever remain nameless spoke of “leaking wombs” and well it made me shiver. It also introduced me to the entire concept of purple prose. Prose can be beautiful. I’ve read plenty of books where the writing touches me deeply and the author is simply writing about the sunset, or a walk in the park, or the plight of the poor. If the author is able to actually tell a story without distracting the reader with the prose, I’m all for it. urn:lcp:shatterme0000mafi:epub:90a143fb-5a8e-428b-9cc1-f5d960462fa3 Foldoutcount 0 Identifier shatterme0000mafi Identifier-ark ark:/13960/s2dbkrghw40 Invoice 1652 Isbn 9780062085481 X-Men meets The Handmaid's Tale in this first instalment in an epic and romantic YA fantasy trilogy perfect for fans of Sarah J. Maas, Victoria Aveyard's The Red Queen, Netflix's Stranger Things and Leigh Bardugo's Six of Crows.

Tahereh Mafi’s writing style is a work of art in itself. Her prose is poetic, filled with metaphors and striking imagery that elevate the reading experience to new heights. The crossing out of Juliette’s thoughts and feelings in the text serves as a powerful literary device, allowing readers to delve into the chaos of her mind. The Series That Keeps Giving He hesitates for only an instant before edging toward the door. He slides open a small slot and peers through to a world that no longer exists. However, there was one thing that for me was even more annoying than the descriptions, the similes, the strikes, and that was the stupid repetition thing: "and then and then and then..." Again, if it had been used once, or sparingly even, then it wouldn't be so bad. I may have thought it was an interesting literary technique. But Shatter Me had way way way too much of everything (see what I did there?). Mafi, if you wanted to capture me with I'm just trying way too hard to sound cool unique prose, thinking that if you repeated phrases fifty times every once in a while, had painful metaphors, and an unnecessary abundance of irritating striking texts, then There’s no color, no light, no promise of anything but horror on the other side. No words. No direction. Just an open door that means the same thing every time.

User Reviews:

I build walls until they begin to crumble, and then I force another set to take their place. I build and build and remain unmoving until my mind is clear, uncontaminated, containing nothing but a small white room. A single light hanging from the ceiling. Shit!” He practically flings the tray through the opening, pausing only to slap his palm against his shirt. “Shit, shit.” He curls his fingers into a tight fist and clenches his jaw. He’s burned his hand. I would’ve warned him if he would’ve listened.

Ah, Ms. Ferrars. I don’t know what you hope to accomplish by sitting in the corner.” Castle’s easy grin dances into the room before he does. When we’re finally trapped in the familiar 4 walls of claustrophobia, Cellmate won’t stop staring at me.No one is there,” I tell him. “It’s just our breakfast. ” 264 breakfasts and I still don’t know what it’s made of. It smells like too many chemicals; an amorphous lump always delivered in extremes. Sometimes too sweet, sometimes too salty, always disgusting. Most of the time I’m too starved to notice the difference.

I’ve decided not to be afraid of him. I’ve decided his actions are more immature than genuinely threatening. He looks so familiar so familiar so familiar to me. I once knew a boy with the same blue eyes and my memories won’t let me hate him. He sizes up the meager pillow on the spare bed they shoved into the empty space this morning, the skimpy mattress and threadbare blanket hardly big enough to support his upper half. He glances at my bed. Glances at his bed. Good to see you’re all right, sir.” His voice is a nervous, shaky thing. “Good to see you’re all right.” You should wait at least three minutes before touching the tray, I tell the wall. I don’t look at the scars gracing my small hands, at the burn marks no one could’ve taught me to avoid. I think they do it on purpose, I add quietly.The world outside is in chaos, ruled by a ruthless organization known as The Reestablishment. When Juliette is unexpectedly released from her cell, it is not to freedom but to serve The Reestablishment as a weapon. They hope to use her lethal touch to maintain control and suppress any rebellion. I’m supposed to harness my Energy, Castle said. Our gifts are different forms of Energy. Matter is never created or destroyed, he said to me, and as our world changed, so did the Energy within it. Our abilities are taken from the universe, from other matter, from other Energies. We are not anomalies. We are inevitabilities of the perverse manipulations of our Earth. Our Energy came from somewhere, he said. And somewhere is in the chaos all around us. I have nothing but a small notebook and a broken pen and the numbers in my head to keep me company. 1 window. 4 walls. 144 square feet of space. 26 letters in an alphabet I haven’t spoken in 264 days of isolation.