the one thing I hate most about books is the end. Whether they make me smile, cry, laugh, angry, or annoyed, a part of my heart always breaks. I’m just re-reading the end of The Iron Knight, since I just did a review on it, and I still feel that sadness grow inside me signalling that it was, in fact, the end of that series. -Sigh- I’m such an oxymoron. I’m saddened by the end of a series, and yet here I am wishing that time would go faster so I can read the last Infernal Device novel or the final Shift novel… Anyone else in the world feel like/do this?