I have the pleasure to taking part in the book tour for A Mortal Song by Megan Crewe. This magical book seems like an exciting read perfect for anyone who loves magic and fantasy.
I have been given the honor of posting an excerpt from this book for you to enjoy. Have a look.
A Brief Synopsis of the Book
Sora’s life was full of magic—until she discovered it was all a lie.
Heir to Mt. Fuji’s spirit kingdom, Sora yearns to finally take on the sacred kami duties. But just as she confronts her parents to make a plea, a ghostly army invades the mountain. Barely escaping with her life, Sora follows her mother’s last instructions to a heart-wrenching discovery: she is a human changeling, raised as a decoy while her parents’ true daughter remained safe but unaware in modern-day Tokyo. Her powers were only borrowed, never her own. Now, with the world’s natural cycles falling into chaos and the ghosts plotting an even more deadly assault, it falls on her to train the unprepared kami princess.
As Sora struggles with her emerging human weaknesses and the draw of an unanticipated ally with secrets of his own, she vows to keep fighting for her loved ones and the world they once protected. But for one mortal girl to make a difference in this desperate war between the spirits, she may have to give up the only home she’s ever known.
“Megan Crewe’s A Mortal Song is engrossing from the first chapter. The world of the kami is beautifully fantastic and delicately drawn, and the switched-at-birth scenario made me instantly feel for both of these resilient, brave girls. A Mortal Song has lots of magic, lots of heart, and lots to love.” -Kendare Blake, author of Three Dark Crowns
The girl in the middle of the second row of desks looked unusual even by human standards. Her hair, which was pulled into two wavy ponytails on either side of her head, had been bleached and dyed pale lavender. Her baggy socks bunched around her calves almost to her knees, and her shoes were painted with neon shapes that appeared to be mock lipstick prints.
And she glowed.
The glow seeped from the edges of her body, as if her skin couldn’t quite contain all the ki inside her. Around her, her classmates looked dull and faded. Less real.
My throat tightened. Maybe this was why Rin had sent us here, instead of to the girl’s house or some less crowded place. Because here, seeing all the human students around her, there was no way we could deny that she was something else. That she was kami.
And there was no reason for any kami to be here, a girl exactly my age, dressing and acting like a human, unless Rin’s story was true. Unless my parents had gone through with the switch.
Which meant, beyond a doubt, I wasn’t kami.
As I groped for words, Takeo touched my elbow. The familiar contact drew me from my daze.
“We can’t burst in while the instructor is teaching,” he said softly. “When the girl leaves, we’ll take her aside. Do you know what time the classes would normally end?”
I grasped onto that concrete question. My eyes found the clock on the classroom wall.
“It might be different at different schools,” I said, “but in our town they finished at three thirty. If it’s the same here, we’ll have to wait a half hour.”
“All right,” Takeo said. “That’s not so long.”
I pulled myself away from the door. Away from the view of the girl who glowed. My restless feet carried me farther down the hall. My gaze roamed over the walls without really seeing anything, until it caught on a poster tacked to a bulletin board. I halted.
On the poster was a photograph of the mountain—my mountain—above a spray of cherry blossoms. I stepped closer, reaching out to let my ethereal fingers trail over it. The lettering above the image said, Visit Mt. Fuji this summer! One of the clubs organizing some sort of trip, I guessed.
Takeo came up behind me. “I can’t imagine how worried you must be for your parents,” he said.
“I’m worried about everyone.” And I missed them. I missed the familiar halls and the familiar music that so often flowed through them, Ayame’s murmuring over my hair, Mother’s gentle arms pulling me to her.
The last embrace she’d given me, the way Father had hugged me close, flashed through my mind. I blinked hard. Had they been thinking of me when we were together, or had they been imagining the daughter they’d given up for safe keeping? Their real daughter—the girl in that classroom over there.
“I never knew,” I said. “I never even suspected.”
More About the Author:
Like many authors, Megan Crewe finds writing about herself much more difficult than making things up. A few definite facts: she lives with her husband, son, and three cats in Toronto, Canada (and does on occasion say “eh”), she tutors children and teens with special needs, and she can’t look at the night sky without speculating about who else might be out there.
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You can enter a giveaway for a Japan Media and Treats Prize Pack through Xpresso Book Tours.