Authors: J.S. Morin
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About the Author
Born in New Hampshire in 1977, J.S. Morin found himself captivated by the wonders of fantasy novels at a young age. He was introduced to the genre via the works of R.A. Salvatore, Ed Greenwood, and Margaret Weiss and Tracy Hickman. He loved exploring other people’s worlds, from Shadowdale to Hyrule. He also quickly found Dungeons and Dragons to be a creative outlet for stories, characters, and new worlds of his own creation.
His other passion was for building and designing things, and when it came time to choose a career, he went down that road. A Mechanical Engineer by day, he spends his evenings with his wife in their New Hampshire home, enjoying the simplicity of life in a quiet state.
By night he dreams elaborate dreams of visiting fanciful worlds, performing acts of heroism, and solving intriguing puzzles, which inspire him to craft stories that he hopes will help shape the lives of the next generation of fantasy readers. He hopes to avoid finishing growing up.
Tanner scratched at a week’s beard, weighing the risk of trying to shave with a runed sword. He had never been fond of beards, but he had never been fond of beaches either, yet here he was. The liftwing was perched not fifty paces away at the edge of the sand and the tall grasses. One wheel was broken, having given out when he made his first landing. For someone who never took a lesson, he considered it a victory.
He took a bite of a fruit he couldn’t name, the juices running down his face amid the unaccustomed hair. The first day, he had counted himself lucky for having found a grove of trees laden with the fruits not far from shore. By now he was sick to death of them, but had yet to find anything else that looked safe to eat.
Tanner looked up into the bright blue sky. “Dan, I know yesterday I swore I’d have your spleen out for leaving me here. I take it back. You get them to open a gate and we can call it even.”
He took another bite, and waited.