Description
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About the author:
Morgan has been an author all of her life. Even as a child, she was always happy living in a fantasy filled world, so much so that she found herself needing the rules of the real world to make sense. In doing so, Morgan found a way to connect the real with the unreal, the natural with the unnatural.
What inspired you to write your book?
I have always wanted to change the world and have finally found my way of doing so. 😉
Here is a short sample from the book:
Ligeia
“Mother?” Agramon questions. My demon of fear’s echoy, bassy tone makes my skin tingle. The slight waiver of worry in his voice I have come to know as normal makes me love him more.
“Yes my sweet demon.” I answer.
“What is that? That which moves on our water.” Agramon growls toward what worries him. He crouches next to me baring his double fangs with death in his lime green eyes. His strong and thick muscled body tenses as he hisses, dragging his elongating nails into the dirt.
“It is called an elephant. They come from the depths of the ocean. They eat demons,” Jezebeth mocks sweeping her long black hair from her face. My demon of falsehoods always spins the most inventive stories. Her words are strong and the echo from her double voice has become very convincing over the recent months. She is learning so fast. I smile proudly.
“Demons like you!” Jezebeth shrieks. Her almond shaped, bright orange eyes widen as she jumps at Agramon making him fall backwards toward my feet. He snarls at her shakily.
“D… d… do they mother. D… d… do they eat d… d… demons?” Agramon cowers into me. I pet his head, running my hands through his shaggy brown hair. The stubble on his cheek and chin catches my fingertips as I graze his skin.
“They also breathe fire!” Jezebeth hollers, cupping her hands over her mouth, and aiming her voice toward the sea. Even pointed away, the intenseness of her double voice is ground shaking and I smirk.
“Be quiet fool! Let mother answer.” Verin, my demon of impatience, angrily chimes in. Her bright teal eyes burn through her younger sister’s lies. She crosses her arms over her chest and stands tall. If she were closer to me she would tower over casting such a shadow, especially when she forms and flexes her wings.
“It is a ship.” Ronwe states confidently. He sways back and forth, closing his shining amber eyes, and breathing in the air. The wind from the ocean blows his short, dark, wavy hair back and his bronze skin glows in the mid day sun.
I watch as Ronwe searches for truths, for answers, his power reaching across barriers I thought impossible at times. My demon of knowledge is far more powerful than even he knows.
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