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At Water's Edge by S. McPherson

By Lauriej
At Water's Edge by S. McPherson
At Water's Edge by S. McPherson
At Water's Edge by S. McPherson

At Water's EdgeThe Water Rushes Book 1by S. McPhersonGenre: YA Fantasy393 pages

Magic. Romance. Portals. And war. Perfect for fans of The Mortal Instruments, Red Queen and Twilight.

What if there was another you, living in another world?


Seventeen year old, Dezaray Storm is blamed for the death of her parents, hated by her brother and secluded from her friends, but that doesn't stop her from believing in magic.Visions of the future, mysterious cloaked figures and a handsome stranger with the ability to teleport, lead to Dezaray tumbling through a portal and into another world where she is mistaken for its most powerful sorceress and savior.But in a twisted turn of events, the true sorceress ends up lost in our world, wandering the streets of England with a broken device and the whisper of forgotten magic to guide her. The realm of Coldivor is on the brink of war, its enemies grow restless and its shadows have eyes. Only the true sorceress can help tip the scales in their favour and the two girls must trade back before their 18th birthday when the war that could shatter both realities, will rage.For a tale of misguided and powerful heroines, finding yourself in the midst of chaos and discovering secrets laid to rest, read AT WATER'S EDGE, a young adult epic fantasy that readers are comparing to Cassandra Clare, Sarah J Maas and Victoria Aveyard.
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At Water's Edge by S. McPherson
As I walk, I allow the woods to claim my mind. I appreciate the low hanging branches of the tall robust trees, the flutter of the wind rippling the surface of the stream and the scuttles and flurry of the wildlife.Something shiny in the shadows strikes my eyes. Peering through the lampposts’ haze, I recognize the man I’ve dubbed Tinfoil leaning against a tree just off the path. I call him Tinfoil because that’s what he always wears: tinfoil hat, coat, and fingerless gloves. I often see him on the weekends in town, yelling out predictions and profanities at passers-by. Most people give him a wide birth – especially since he once told a man he was heading for a fall, and the next thing I knew, that same man was in a wheelchair – however, I’ve never really bothered. Tinfoil never offends me in any way and usually fails to notice my existence, keeping his head down and his crinkling hands inside his torn pockets.I move closer, preparing to give my usual nod on the off chance he looks my way, but stop when his head twists in my direction. His eyes widen with that crazed look I’ve seen him give others, and he jumps into my path.‘I see the light,’ he gasps, ‘shining bright. Walk through it.’I furrow my brow.‘I see the light!’ he cries, ‘shining bright. Walk through it.’My heart pounds as I stumble to get around him but he keeps leaping in my way.‘I see the light. Shining bright. Walk through it.’Oh dear. A crazy person is telling me to walk into the light, this can’t be good. I pretend to step one way, and when he follows, quickly step another, finally getting around him. His gloved hand grips my wrist, the folded foil poking at my skin.‘Get off!’ I exclaim.‘Tonight free.’ Tinfoil leans close, so close I can see a spit bubble bobbing from one lip to the other as they meet. ‘Tomorrow a cage.’I gulp, twisting my wrist, but he’s surprisingly strong for such a withered character. ‘Tonight free. Tomorrow a cage.’ His eyes leave mine and lower to the ground. ‘Tonight free. Tomorrow a cage.’
At Water's Edge by S. McPhersonAt Water's Edge by S. McPhersonUSA Today Bestselling Author & a citizen of the world; S. McPherson was born in England, moved to Saudi Arabia when she was five then on to Dubai at the age of seven. S. McPherson briefly lived in Scotland, she is originally from Jamaica and her mind is often far, far away in lands people have never heard of.S. McPherson has always loved writing in all its forms and at the tender age of eight, she dreamt of being a member of the next big pop group where she could sing and write songs all day. When that inexplicably fell through (how could she not be the next Beyonce??), she moved on to poems, scripts and eventually novels.
Having met many different people - imaginary and real - along her travels, S. McPherson has a vast array of characters buzzing in her head bursting to be let loose on a page or two of fantasy.
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