I always knew there would be three of you. A first, a second and a third. Some call it family planning. I call it a complete series.
And I knew you were going to be unique as an installment. Second children are usually less anticipated than the first. They are less doted on than the third. But they are the glue that holds it all together. Without you there would be no middle. There would be a setup and an ending. But you, my sweet second book in a series, you created the depth. It wasn’t until I created you that I truly fell in love with those characters. Like I somersaulted, head over feet and knew that this was a series that would live in me for the rest of my life. That’s because of you.
My little middle child in a badass epic series, you did something that was unique. You individuated yourself from the first and the third. You’re not only different in your arrangement than your siblings, but you’re wrapped in a cover that represents your mystery. I love you in a way I’ve never loved a middle book. Please don’t tell the others, Stunned and Rebels. They might get their feelings hurt. It’s just that you came into my life and did something really strange. Usually I love a book and therefore choose to write it. I love characters and choose to tell their story. I remember sitting down and writing you and in the process you rewrote me. You made me fall in love with you.