Book

A Sequel Meant To Soar

Everyone wants their next book to be the next best thing–just like the first: exhilarating and original.

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Fauldon’s Dream: The Faerydeer

Not much is actually known of the faerydeer. According to the Encyclopedia of the Natures of Euphora: “They appear when the bonedilies are near bloom and are renowned for the pollen they sweat, which is essential to nature’s pollination and integration of kinds, allowing species of plant to travel vast expanses and find home next to the bonedilies for protection.”

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A Glimpse Into the “Pôrtrət Relms”

“Well, Mr Fauldon, as you said: I brought you here from another place, just as Grevious was once brought…”

-Sir Knowington, from Fauldon’s Dream and the Karier of the Task, Scene XI

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Back Into The Lion’s Den

It was as one of those moments one finds themselves in an ever-ordinary place only to have the mind explode into unfathomable creativity. The concrete broke like puzzle pieces and the vacant transports of that great mall all lit up. Carls felt the wisp of gentle breeze to his numbing skin—exhausted, bewildered, and breathless did he gaze upon the brilliant hexes of indigo.

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A Whimsical Fantasy Adventure

It is here. Join Mr Fauldon in his daring venture into a realm that captivated so many from the Grand Attraction. That’s right: Euphora is back in this whimsical fantasy adventure of Mr Fauldon as he strives to obtain clarity amidst such bizarre imaginations.

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Fauldon’s Dream and My Request

Mr Fauldon has long been wandering the streets of a bustling city in need of adventure and a new spark in his life–and what he stumbles upon will answer that call. Join Mr Fauldon in an adventure of a lifetime as he is swept into a new realm, where everything defies the limits of what his imagination once thought.
 

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The Sentiment of Sehsaur, Part I

Blind, bitter, and poor did the man shiver amidst the cold and biting wind. The homesteads of Albannik were bunkered for the night and the harshest winter for all they knew. The lonely mountain peek’s town was accustom to winter, but not what they had come to call the Winds of Raigor. From the eastern lands did these winds come–swiftly and like a wolf pack to an abandoned calf. Devouring and relentless did the winds turn color to white, to blue, to death. None could escape it–only cling desperately to life in prayers that it should pass.

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