Someone had sent her a present—a very special
gift—and she knew she would treasure it as a symbol of her newfound
freedom.
And maybe like
Heidi—another girl orphaned at an early age—Johanna might also find
her happy ending.
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If you want to read more about
Johanna’s quest for independence, turn the page for a preview
of—
The Library of
Illumination
Book One
A gust of cold air coming in the window made Mal shiver,
but not as much as the keening that followed it. He turned in time
to see the enormous beak of a flying lizard just two feet away. And
then, darkness.
And so it began
...
The texture of the paper, the scent of the ink, the vivid
contrast of dark print in relief against a creamy page—Johanna
loved everything about books, reading them, touching them, owning
them. She found illuminated manuscripts and finely bound texts
intoxicating, and she appreciated the beauty of richly colored
plates illustrating the books she read. Just like someone with drug
or alcohol dependence, she always looked for her next
fix.
She often dreamed of
having her own library, a large wood-paneled room with
floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with ancient dictionaries and
atlases and centuries-old fiction. She envisioned the books that
would populate the space: The
Iliad , The
Odyssey , a Gutenberg Bible, a first
edition of Through the Looking
Glass . Between the banks of shelves,
natural light would stream in through tall windows. She could
almost hear the crackle of flames as they devoured logs in a
fireplace, adding atmosphere and warmth to the library of her
dreams. She sighed when she thought about the gentle stretch she
would feel in her thighs every time she climbed the circular stairs
to a narrow balcony that circled the perimeter of the library’s
second story. That’s where she would keep her old favorites
by Poe, Shakespeare, and
Bront ë . Of
course, her muscles would thank her as soon as she settled into the
down-filled cushions of a leather sofa and propped her book on top
of the soft cashmere pillow on her lap. It would be the perfect
setting for reading one of her beloved tomes.
B-B-B-R-R-R-I-I-I-N-N-N-G-G-G!
Johanna hated the
telephone and everything it represented. It rudely rang with no
regard for what she was doing at that moment. The ring tone sounded
brassy and irritating, and the people on the other end of the line
were, for the most part, annoying and picayune. However, speaking
to those callers happened to be an integral part of her job. “I’m a
people person,” she had blathered to the man who was about to
become her employer. He hired her specifically to deal with
clients, and all day long an unending stream of customers called,
each one demanding her time and attention, with no thought that
perhaps Johanna deserved the same courtesy from them.
When she first took the
job at Book Services, she had high hopes about working with
precious manuscripts all day, researching ancient texts, or perhaps
learning bookbinding and repair. But she quickly found out the only
book involved in her job contained the work orders she filled out
as the calls came in. She was just another worker bee in a hive
filled with countless drones.
“ Where’s my delivery?”
“You sent the wrong books.” “I don’t want this anymore. Come back
and get it.” Demanding. Obnoxious. Exhausting. At the end of each
day, she dragged herself home, bone tired and too weary to do
anything except eat