A brief Google search later and I had recovered not only the series title, but also that it was at last complete. I knew with certainty, however, that once I saw them I would recognize them immediately. I jumped online armed with little more than a weak summary - the title of the books and the author had long since been forgotten. They always said no.Įventually, the series faded into the back of my mind and I forgot about it.įor an unknown reason, an old memory resurfaced a few months ago and I became curious again about the fate my once beloved series. I don’t remember how long we searched, but for a number of years , every time my mom and I went into a book store, we would go to the customer service desk and ask if they had a copy of the elusive book three. I have vivid memories of my mom and I, prowling bookshelves. So, of course, my mom and I headed off to Barnes and Nobles to pick up a copy of the third book.
There were two books, the first called “Into the Land of the Unicorns,” and the second called “Song of the Wanderer.” I read them sometime when I was in elementary school and, at the end of the second it became immediately clear that there was another book in the series.
I think it was that mix of beauty, purity and ferocity that made them my favorite mythological creature when I was young.Īt some point, I came across a series called the Unicorn Chronicles, written by Bruce Coville. They were beautiful and majestic, pure-hearted but also incredibly dangerous. The unicorns I read about weren’t dainty, cute, pink maned creatures that pooped rainbows - the kind you see everywhere these days. It was hard to find novels that featured them, but I read every one I could get my hands on. When I was younger, I was obsessed with unicorns.
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