The Maker of Worlds by David Litwack [BLITZ]

If you had the chance to remake the world, what kind of world would you choose?

When tragedy strikes Lucas Mack’s young life, he desperately yearns to escape its sorrow, and takes an improbable leap through the mythical maelstrom. Rather than splashing down on the far side like his neighbors, he’s transported to a magical realm where he has the power to redefine not only who he is, but the world in which he resides.

As he stumbles about trying to find his way, he meets Mia, an equally troubled fellow pilgrim. With the help of a mystical guide and an aging wizard, they navigate the enchanted land while learning to control their newfound powers. Yet this realm is more complex than they expected, with seasoned sorcerers who’ve been corrupted by the sinister side of magic.

Limited by natural law and seduced by magic’s power, they are tested as never before. Will the gift of magic bring renewed hope or drive them to the edge of the void?

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$4.99 at Time of Posting!

Fantasy | New Adult | Young Adult

Published: May 22, 2024

Length: 265 Pages

Tour Provided by Xpresso Book Tours

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⇛The Excerpt⇚

The maelstrom hovered over the shallows a dozen paces offshore, in the dim light showing as nothing more than a disturbance in the air. I yanked off my boots, knotted the laces and slung them around my neck. As I rolled my trousers above the knee, I cast a lingering glance up the hill to catch a last glimpse of my cottage.

I waited until the eastern horizon reddened and waded into the lake.

An arm’s length from the gateway, I reached out, keeping as far away as possible while my fingertips brushed its surface. It felt like... nothing, likely no more than an illusion. In half an hour, I’d be back in my bed, no closer to comprehending the universe. Yet I’d yearned for a portal to another world, one that might allow me to deviate from accepted norms. I longed to float off to a fresher fate.

Once, I too would have followed the safe path, with no risk of surprise, but then life did surprise me with a cosmic slap across the face that left me shattered—the taking of Addy. At twenty-two, misfortune had cleared the slate, leaving me alone and adrift.

I drew in a breath and plunged through.

In the light of pre-dawn, and in my half-awake state, no difference struck me at first, other than the chill waters deeper than expected, soaking the rolls of my trousers. Out of the mist on either side, giant evergreens loomed graceful as usual, rising until their tops blurred. The view so distracted me that several heartbeats passed before I realized the change.

Perhaps I was still sleeping in my bed, for where the channel to the west lake should have been, a broad flood plain spread. The water had washed over the banks and crept inland for a hundred paces, leaving the trees the only witness to what once had been dry land.

Beyond the trees, nothing.

Nowhere a dock or a mooring, not so much as a hint of early morning smoke rising from a chimney. Nowhere the cottages of Queen’s Hill. Nowhere houses at all. As I gaped, the edges of branches shimmered as if undecided whether to remain intangible or become real. In a panic, I realized the folly of this quest. Better to return to a safer, albeit gloomier life, to go back through the portal at once.

Behind me, the maelstrom still swirled, a fleeting comfort as it had started to recede. While I stared at the last link to my old world, the orb diminished, shrunk to a size I could cover with my hand, and then to that of the tip of my thumb. Before I sloshed more than two steps closer, it winked out.

Now, to the north and the south, nothing showed but water. I stumbled to shore, my movements causing the slightest wake in the surface, which lay so still I could make out my astonished features in the reflection.

I’d spent much of my young life with Addy, like a mate sailing across a forever lake. She’d been with me through calm and storm. I’d yearned to find renewed hope on this side of the gateway and return home to a new life, yet now the gateway, like Addy, had vanished.

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The urge to write first struck at age sixteen when working on a newsletter at a youth encampment in the woods of northern Maine. It may have been the wild night when lightning flashed at sunset followed by the northern lights rippling after dark. Or maybe it was the newsletter's editor, a girl with eyes the color of the ocean. But he was inspired to write about the blurry line between reality and the fantastic.

Using two fingers and lots of white-out, he religiously typed five pages a day throughout college and well into his twenties. Then life intervened. He paused to raise two sons and pursue a career, in the process -- and without prior plan -- becoming a well-known entrepreneur in the software industry, founding several successful companies. When he found time again to daydream, the urge to write returned.

David now lives in the Great Northwest. He no longer limits himself to five pages a day and is thankful every keystroke for the invention of the word processor.