When I write I imagine my heroes looking like this, albeit with a sword or musket casually resting on their broad shoulders…and not looking quite so dorky.
PROLOGUE: A BLACK CONDOR DIPPED her featherless head and flapped her wings, straining for height. Another vulture drifted in front of her, forcing the condor to climb higher in the crowded wheel of circling birds. The condor struggled, her body weak from having little to eat over the past month. The sun had yet to… Read more »