I have read and studying authors' work more closely so that I learn the different technique they use. I thought I would share a passage I found. It's from Mary Pearson "The Beauty of Darkness." I love her audio on the first book in this same series, and today I just happen to be browsing on Amazon when I remember her. I recognize at least two of the devices that she is using. Can anyone tell me if there is more? Here is the excerpt below. Darkness was a beautiful thing. The kiss of a shadow. A caress as soft as moonlight. It had always been my refuge, my place of escape, whether I was sneaking onto a rooftop lit only by the stars or down a midnight alley to be with my brothers. Darkness was my ally. It made me forget the world I was in and invited me to dream of another. I sank deeper, searching for its comfort. Sweet murmurs stirred me. Only a sliver of golden moon shone in the liquid dark, floating, rocking, always moving, always out of my reach. Its shifting light illuminated a meadow. My spirits lifted. I saw Walther dancing with Greta. Just beyond them, Aster twirled to music I couldn’t quite hear, and her long hair flowed past her shoulders. Was it the Festival of Deliverance already? Aster called out to me, Don’t tarry now, Miz. Deep colors swirled; a sprinkling of stars turned purple; the edges of the moon dissolved like wet sugar into black sky; the darkness deepened. Warm. Welcoming. Soft. Except for the jostle. The rhythmic shake came again and again. Demanding. Stay. The voice that wouldn’t let go. Cold and bright and sharp. Hold on. A broad hard chest, frosty breaths when my eyes rolled open, a voice that kept pulling the blanket away, pain bearing down, so numbing I couldn’t breathe. The terrible brightness flashing, stabbing, and finally ebbing when I could take no more. Darkness again. Inviting me to stay.
