SPruitt

To the annual game where teenage competitors search Sky Manor for the key to open a vault hidden behind the deceptive walls. The winner will have the wealth of a lifetime, but there is one catch.

It's not every day you see a new face in my small hometown of Two Harts, let alone one belonging to an annoyingly handsome all-star NFL player. But for some reason, Chris Sterns has decided that the library where I work is his go-to spot to hide from his mega-fans, and unfortunately, winding me up is his new favorite sport. Being crowned “world’s sexiest man” has done little to curb his confident charm and when he somehow ropes me into his two-person book club, I can’t help warming to his endless positivity.

Sold into slavery by his own parents at the age of seven, Aidan has spent his life enduring tortuous training in the arts of war. Now a man, he is an assassin in the service of his king. He kills whoever the king wants dead without question, regret, or concern for his own life. But when another assassin targets the king's daughter, Aidan's path to protect her will lead him down a dark road of corruption. As he struggles with his duty and his conscience, Aidan finds himself falling in love with the person he is supposed to protect and falling away from his commitment to his king.

Lynia has always dreamed of being a Conclave Mage. To become one, she goes on jobs using constructs that she summons with magical keys. Her sister, Lynessa just wants to live a normal life. But that’s impossible when Lynia drags Lynessa on jobs that grow more dangerous and deadly. While helping her sister, Lynessa finds herself oddly attracted to the latest warrior construct Lynia bought. There’s one problem: he’s not real. Constructs are beings of magic, not flesh.

With all of the pluck and charm of its eponymous young hero, Rachel McAdams (The Notebook, Spotlight, Midnight in Paris) delivers a spectacular reading of Montgomery's beloved bildungsroman. In moments both funny and bittersweet, McAdams' voice is imbued with the spark that has made Anne a much-loved symbol of individualism and cheer for over a century.