Long before there were books, there were spirits, demons, djinns. Many were of no consequence, idle beings with no interest in humanity, some, kindly, eager to help, visiting anxious souls in their final sleep to provide reassurance.
A few were different from any of these. A few were angry and full of hate.
At some point, one of these deadly fragments of consciousness passed into a book. This Book had been one of the very earliest books, and was for this reason, an important Book. However, it was also an ordinary Book, tribune of the everyday, diary of earth, a Book of interest only to our museums and historians.
Now there are new stories in the old Book, stories written by the spirit.
In David Ellis's A Book of Life, the stories come alive in the pages for the story is the Book itself, and the words within are solely for the eyes of the chosen. The privileged reader then has a choice...to ignore, or to believe...to walk on through life, alone, or to follow the old laws, to follow the Book...
A few were different from any of these. A few were angry and full of hate.
At some point, one of these deadly fragments of consciousness passed into a book. This Book had been one of the very earliest books, and was for this reason, an important Book. However, it was also an ordinary Book, tribune of the everyday, diary of earth, a Book of interest only to our museums and historians.
Now there are new stories in the old Book, stories written by the spirit.
In David Ellis's A Book of Life, the stories come alive in the pages for the story is the Book itself, and the words within are solely for the eyes of the chosen. The privileged reader then has a choice...to ignore, or to believe...to walk on through life, alone, or to follow the old laws, to follow the Book...
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