AtomicQuote

He’s focused on something—or someone—over her shoulder.The harmonious warbling of the rainforest morphs into organized disarray, as if a primitive maestro has thrown conducting to the wind and let Mother Nature take over. Birds trill a warning as the breeze rustles the plant life. Wings flutter overhead. A crescendo of stridulation changes tempo, the insects seemingly performing a sonata as the rhythm shifts yet again.“What—who is it?” Summer asks in a strained whisper.His gaze lands on her, his brows furrowing. “The Forsaken.

Laura Kreitzer

He’s focused on something—or someone—over her shoulder.The harmonious warbling of the rainforest morphs into organized disarray, as if a primitive maestro has thrown conducting to the wind and let Mother Nature take over. Birds trill a warning as the breeze rustles the plant life. Wings flutter overhead. A crescendo of stridulation changes tempo, the insects seemingly performing a sonata as the rhythm shifts yet again.“What—who is it?” Summer asks in a strained whisper.His gaze lands on her, his brows furrowing. “The Forsaken.

Laura Kreitzer Quote

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