Mirrorage
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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Aug 7, 2016
"Reflected images do not show the truth." Ever since Sylvia White was a child she's experienced disturbing sightings of her evil self in mirrors, to which doctors have written off as catoptrophobia, the fear of mirrors. However, Sylvia soon discovers that her odd fear isn't as irrational as everyone thinks. When she starts seeing a new reflection of an invisible boy in mirrors, she believes that her phobia has finally broken whatever sanity she had left. But when he informs her of a completely new world that lives behind the mirrors she fears, and of a great threat that puts the lives of everyone she loves on the line, Sylvia must face her fear and entre the world of Mirrorage to defeat her own reflection who seeks to invade her world at the expense of the human race. With the help of her new friends, Sylvia must face unimaginable obstacles in order to piece together all five segments of the only weapon capable of preventing the deadly invasion that could overtake her world.
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"What the hell?" I took a step closer to the mirror, staring at my reflection in disbelief. The person looking back was still me, but at the same time it wasn't. I had the same thick, dark, curly hair. The same hazel eyes. The same olive skin with a light dusting of freckles (ugh) scattered across the bridge of my nose. But my curls were now streaked with highlights. And not the subtle, golden-brown ones that sometimes appeared during the summer. No, these were an aggressive, dazzling blond that went from the roots of my hair all the way to the tips. It looked like I had spent a full day getting my hair done in some upscale salon. Never mind that I had never set foot in such a place since the day I was born. My eyes appeared somehow wider and more luminous. The colour brighter, my eyelashes darker up against them. And, when I looked closely, my pupils seemed to be slitted almost like a cat. I looked down at my body. My skinny arms-which had always refused to gain any definition no matter how hard I exercised-were lined with flat, wiry muscles. My bony shoulders were now curved and smooth. My scrawny legs were toned like a dancer. I reached down and lifted my shirt, revealing two subtle lines running vertically down my perfectly flat stomach, hinting at the rock-hard abs underneath. My whole body was rippling with strength. Like liquid steel.

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