‘Let the fairy tale begin on a winter’s morning, then, with one drop of blood newly-fallen on the ivory snow: a drop as bright as a clear-cut ruby, red as a single spot of claret on the lace cuff’ – “Swordspoint” by Ellen Kushner
‘Alec’s smile disappeared. “Bilairy’s Balls, it’s nearly winter and you want me to take a bath?” – “Luck in the Shadows” by Lynn Flewelling
‘Locking up, Gideon made his way through the narrow frost-lined streets, wincing as the bitter ice-chilled wind cut through the layers of clothing right through to his bones. He couldn’t remember when it had been as cold as this; icicles hung from every roof and the frost hung around in the streets long after daylight broke’ – “Frost Fair” by Erastes
‘The frost lay heavy on the swell of the earth; man and wolf left footprints like dark pearls in silver as they ran across it side by side’ – “A Companion to Wolves” by Sarah Monette and Elizabeth Bear
‘Snow was falling on Riverside, great white feather-puffs that veiled the cracks in the facades of its ruined houses; slowly softening the harsh contours of jagged roof and fallen beam. Eaves were rounded with snow, overlapping, embracing, sliding into each other, capping houses all clustered together like a fairy-tale village’ – “Swordspoint” by Ellen Kushner
‘Seregil woke first. It had snowed heavily the night before. Luckily, Alec had spotted an abandoned burrow just before sunset and they’d spent the night inside. The hole still stank of its former inhabitants, but it was large enough for the two of them to stretch out in. With the pack and Seregil’s saddle jammed in the opening as a windbreak, they’d managed to keep warm for the first time since they’d come down onto the Downs. Cramped but warm, Seregil was tempted to let Alec’s soft, even breathing lull him back to sleep’ – “Luck in the Shadows” by Lynn Flewelling
‘As he drifted off, he seemed to see a series of white images, scenes carved in snow. Frosty gardens, their branches lush with white roses and crystal thorns; ladies with floating spun-sugar hair escorted by ivory gallants; and, for himself, opponents with long, bright swords of clear and gleaming ice’ – “Swordspoint” by Ellen Kushner