BORN WITH THE OVERWHELMING GIFT OF SENSING PEOPLE'S FEELINGS, Magdala travels the world helping those in grief allay their inner Shadows. The last sprig of an arcane, foregone clan, she has resigned herself to leading a secretive, lonely existence, until the day she saves Tristan's life. Instantly drawn to this intriguing stranger, Tristan finds a way to throw their lives together for the following days. Caught up in the uncanny magnetism that builds up between them, they orbit hesitantly around each other, afraid to disclose too much of the grim scars they both carry. Not losing sight of their escalating closeness, The Songsinger succeeds to weave throughout its pages the remarkable stories of those who left their mark- for the better or worse- on Magdala and Tristan's lives. Together, they steer the reader's mind on a roller coaster of shifting plots and unsuspected dangers, to a larger than life, unexpected final chapter. An intense and sensual journey of self-discovery, The Songsinger blends myth and mystery into an enticing fantasy that will follow you into your dreams."...hm." he agreed thinly, closing his eyes against a cool, damp tide of debilitating nausea. The warmth of her hand brushing his forehead was calm and soothing. It made the sickening tide dissolve from his chest, giving him leisure to breathe. He felt her fingers resting on the pulse in his wrist. He felt his lips being parted. He felt her thumb on his tongue. And then an almost hot flood exploded in his mouth. He swallowed. (... ...) There was no more weakness. The fibers on his bone felt green, dense, elastic. "Ok, that s enough." Under his skin, a steady, nourishing, young flow of red was permeating it, electroshocking its pores, waking them up. The hairs on his arms stretched to the sky and bent under a gentle current of air, causing their roots to tingle. "Tristan. Tristan. Stop. Stop now." There was a harmonious, ubiquitous music in the forest, made of a million minuscule noises that weaved themselves together, low snaps, short slithers, smooth rustles, faraway hissing, crickets, a high twitter, "Tristan! Let go! It will hurt you, let go!!" and he could see the stars clustered within his vision range all at once, and the chiffon rays of the moon radiating throughout the night sky "Tristan!!" and a sharp strike licked his jaw, dislocating his mind from its rapture. "What is it, goddamn it!" he snapped back in a flare, crushing the rebellious wrist yanking inside his hand. #... what the hell let go...# His fingers opened in a violent spasm. "Magdala... Magdala..." he pleaded pulling himself from the ground, feeling her shoulders with his palms, "I m sorry, I m sorry..." he muttered, taken aback."It s ok, I m ok..." she responded reassuringly, huddling herself between his arms. "I don t know what... happened to me, I just...""Couldn t stop..." she quietly finished his thought. "I know. I m sorry...there was no time to warn you, Tristan... you were so close to the edge...""Shhh, it s ok... goddamned, it was like... liquid, electrifying energy, your blood."
