The first two books in Tamora Pierce's Song of the Lioness quartet make another appearance. I suppose they remind me of home because I read them so many times. I still remember laying on the bed at my grandmother's house (my second home) listening to the Alanna Morissette's Jagged Little Pill on repeat (on my discman because, yes, I'm that old) while reading these books over and over again the summer after I discovered them. I can also remember reading them countless times at my mother's house, crying once because I got Cheeto cheese on one of them. They were with me through a big part of my child/teen-hood. Ah, nostalgia.