Who was reading: Woman with short russet hair. She wore a button-up shirt that revealed much leathery cleavage.
If she were a fantasy character: she would be the crafty witch who tricks you into an impossible bargain.
Eg. "Before the sun sets on the third day, you've got to get dear ol' princey to fall in love with you. That is, he's got to kiss you. . . . If he doesn't, you belong to me." [Cue interjecting arthropod].
Plot in a nutshell (or something of equivalent size): The kingdom of Southmarch lies on the border of the misty and menacing Shadowline. Enter the vaporous shrouds that lie beyond and sources say you will go mad. But inexplicably, the line is creeping closer, and the nobles of Southmarch have all gone batshit jockeying for position in this time of unrest. Can the Marchlands be saved or are its inhabitants doomed to make like Patsy Cline and go Crazy?
Interested enough to read more? You're in luck! It's the first in a quadrology (ie. a compound work divided into four volumes).
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