“Brannicks and magic and hell, oh my,” ~ Sophie”

“Names are just words. I know that. But learning that the last name I’d used all my life was fake…“So what should I call myself, then?” I asked. “Sophie Atherton? Sophie Brannick?” Both sounded weird and made me feel like I was wearing clothes that didn’t fit.Mom smiled and brushed my hair away from my face. “You can call yourself whatever you want.”“Okay. Sophie Awesome Sparkle-Princess it is.”

“All the magic in the world can’t simplify affairs of the heart.” (Sophie's dad)”

“By now, all three Brannick women—all four, if you counted Mom—were staring at me. Man, what had that piney-tasting stuff been? The Brannick version of Red Bull?”

“Oh, lovely. Magical zombies have stolen my valknut.”

“Cross.” His head popped up a few shelves over. “What?” “Check out the magic crap.” He shot me a look. “Oh, is that what we’re supposed to be doing? Because I’ve just been drawing hearts and our initials in the dirt.” Sophie + Archer”