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Eternal Daughter

I’m an international, multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in my head. As a singer, songwriter, independent filmmaker and improv teacher and performer, my life has always been about creating and sharing what I create with others. Now that my dream to write for a living is a reality, with over a hundred titles in happy publication and no end in sight, I live in beautiful Prince Edward Island, Canada, with my giant cats, pug overlord and overlady and my Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn. What if Death fell in love with Life and they had a daughter…? Life or Death The old man’s body arched, his eyes flying open, a moan escaping his lips while the heart rate monitor speeded before settling into a strong, healthy rhythm. I jerked my hand back, weight in my chest as the mist dissipated and left me to stare at the body in the bed. While Nero’s hand grasped my arm and pulled me forcefully away, I knew the truth. The old man’s eyes fluttered, opened. And he smiled at me. Alive. Healthy. Full of Life when his fate was Death. No. Not again. Her unique parentage ensures Eve isn't like her angel siblings. She brings Death at the beginning of Life and Life to those meant to die. Her continuing failures create constant disaster for her parents and the mortals she tries so hard to serve. But when Eve accidentally interferes with the Loom of Creation, she sets off a chain of events that leads her to finally understand who she really is.

Patti Larsen · แฟนตาซี
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187 Chs

Chapter 84: Tulip

My fault or not, I needed answers. And there was only one person in my life who could give them to me. The trouble was, I didn't know if Tulip was even talking to me anymore after what happened earlier that day. I still couldn't believe how crazy my life had become-again-in such a short period of time, but there was nothing to be done about it.

Instead, I spun on Mafdel, grasped her hand and, grim, pulled her between realms and into the Repository. It welcomed me with a rush of colors, scents, tastes and sensations. Red over gold over blue run through with yellow. Cinnamon, roses, fresh turned earth, dust. And cold, hot, goosebumpy trails of whispered breath stinging with the tiny pinpricks of wind-tossed sand. The archive almost sucked me in before it hiccupped an apology and spit me out again.