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

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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! 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. People moved on by as though they hadn’t heard it, chatting and pushing their way through the rush hour crowd. Hide it! The girl snapped at the sight of me holding it up like a beacon. I’ll confuse them while you get away. No time to waste, Trite. Blink twice and chase the train! A twinkle lit the girl’s eyes.

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. 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 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. As the conversations at my aunt’s dining table grew in volume, I noticed my grandmother’s focus fall distant behind the reflection of her family in her glasses. She was a body here, with a mind somewhere else. Like me.Open my…what…? I got the strangest impulse to turn and run—a nervous reaction to her husky, outlandish blabbering and harsh features. My boots thumped up the porch stairs, but the front door swung open before I could grab the handle, startling me more than it should have. After dinner, Uncle Ralf read a Christmas poem as we gathered around the large stone fireplace in the living room and tried not to ogle at Aunt Sylvia’s horrendously fat spruce tree, held together with gold ribbons, crystal teardrop ornaments, and ropes of tiny white lights. The display gave off the fresh scent of pine needles, sap, and the sort of inconsiderate wealth-flaunting that practically shoved spare bills up one’s nose.

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.

About this book

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. Um… A dozen images flashed through my mind at once: smiling rabbits, sparkling birds, tree-sized people, a human-swallowing snow-tornado. But I forced my cheeks to move out of the way for a smile, otherwise my grandma would know something was wrong. I got distracted. I’ll apologize at some point, I promised, though she and I both knew I probably wouldn’t. A furry white creature grinned up at me, its long ears folding out from behind the crown of cotton atop its head. 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