Böcker av Ellen Taylor

I don't remember anything. The crazy thing is, I don't care. I came to myself six months ago on an island, and I've been relaxing ever since. This is a good life. One I am certain I wanted. My only purpose is to take care of this island, and the little girl who came with me. Nothing else matters. We're cut off from the rest of the world. I don't think anyone else knows we're here. A part of me says I need to keep it that way. Another part says I left some people in grave danger, and it's all my fault.But it doesn't matter. I won't leave my island, ever. I am ignoring the part that says to leave. Some instinct I buried deep inside says I am too dangerous around people. Not that I would know. I don't remember.

It took an entire book to come to peace with the fact that everything from my original outline is ruined. We barely survived book one, and book two is supposed to be a new start. Full of parties and feasts to keep my characters out of danger. But the Dark Wizard has other plans. He, and all his cursed creatures, are breaking out of South Island and heading straight for my characters.But the Dark Wizard isn't the only enemy. Roger, created by the Rogue Narrator, appeared in my story to gain my characters' trust. I have no doubt he will betray them later. My happy characters are only too willing to trust Roger, which means the Rogue Narrator is giving me a choice. Stay in my story to protect my characters or leave and watch them get torn apart. Either way, my world is in danger of burning.

It was supposed to be the best story I'd ever created, my love letter to the fantasy genre. It had heroes gathering mythical artifacts, an epic fight with a dragon, and adventure! But because of a faulty narration device, this story now had me in the flesh.This accident ruined everything! There is no epic journey. No forging friendships. Even the dragon fight was thrown out the window. The only way this could be worse is if this mishap wasn't an accident. But that's ridiculous. Everyone knows the perils of writing yourself into your story. I'd never do that to myself. And there's no one sick enough to trap a narrator in his own world. Right?