Books – Beth Price Morgan

Beth writes swashbuckling, magic-filled young adult fantasy novels–and imaginative picture books about mooing kraken, Passover frogs, and piping plovers.

Her novel ready for publication is THE BREATHING STONE, a vivid, illustrated YA fantasy that tells the story of a fallen kingdom, forbidden magic, and an unlikely hero: the junk trader’s daughter, whose gift can make broken things new. She might have the power to mend the whole kingdom, but she’ll first need to mend her own heart.

THE BREATHING STONE is perfect for readers who enjoy epic adventures with a touch of romance, including Lynette Noni’s THE PRISON HEALER series, Lauren Robert’s POWERLESS series, and Lindsay A. Franklin’s THE STORY PEDDLER series.

Map of Sarkoth, setting of THE BREATHING STONE

Clouds of smoke obscured the moon and stars, making the air bitter with ash and fear. Through deserted streets, a blue-cloaked king’s messenger rode for the heart of the city. Strands of black hair escaped her braid and whipped across her bronze face. Her guard sat behind her, arms wrapped tight around her waist, his own mount missing. Their sweat-stained, soot-streaked tunics and taut shoulders told the story: they weren’t carrying a message of victory.

See cherubim at dawn, dead before sundown, Bretzel thought. So the saying was true.

The night smelled of citrus and dew-soaked grass, and the air reverberated with the joyful stomping of feet and voices raised together in song. For once, nothing needed to be mended, but Bretzel still felt she was brimming over with warmth and light.

Bretzel ducked into a narrow passage between shops. She inched through until she reached the scarf seller’s shop. Scarves of every hue and pattern hung on lines and fluttered as the wind caught them. She held her breath and peered between the soft layers of cloth.

Bretzel darted into the back room of the teashop, her shoulders loosening in relief. The confined space smelled of herbs, spices, and earth. Dried leaves and flowers hung from lines over their heads, sending spiny shadows across the walls in the flickering light of the oil lamp. Jars of exotic teas and pouches for custom brews cluttered a work table in the center of the room. Lina placed a pair of cups on a tray, shoving items away to make room for it on the table.

A map of Sarkoth, the setting of THE BREATHING STONE, and a selection of potential illustrations.

See cherubim at dawn, dead before sundown, Bretzel thought. So the saying was true.

The night smelled of citrus and dew-soaked grass, and the air reverberated with the joyful stomping of feet and voices raised together in song. For once, nothing needed to be mended, but Bretzel still felt she was brimming over with warmth and light.

Bretzel ducked into a narrow passage between shops. She inched through until she reached the scarf seller’s shop. Scarves of every hue and pattern hung on lines and fluttered as the wind caught them. She held her breath and peered between the soft layers of cloth.