Richard Dee's Blog, page 86

The Indie Showcase presents, Catherine Kullmann.

Today, I’m pleased to  Welcome Catherine Kullmann to the Showcase.

My name is Catherine Kullmann and I write historical fiction.

What is the attraction of historical fiction? First, it takes us out of ourselves—transports us to an unfamiliar society recreated partly from familiar facts and partly from a myriad of tiny, new details so that it seems as real to us as our world of today. The setting rings true and the characters’ actions are determined by the laws, morals and customs of their time, not ours. Sometimes this horrifies us; at other times we find it liberating and long for more romantic, more adventurous, perhaps simpler bygone days.

Contemporary fiction instinctively reflects/portrays the world as it is at the time of writing. Historical fiction considers the past through the prism of the present, the author drawing on research rather than personal experience to create an authentic setting and story. But, while we cannot forget what we already know—that Germany lost both world wars, that the Allies under Wellington won the Battle of Waterloo or that Anne Boleyn was beheaded, for example, when we read the right author we are willing to suspend this knowledge, becoming so caught up in the story that we experience those events as if they were happening today. No matter how well we think we know a period or an event, there is always something new to discover. Within the grand story arcs there are frequently gaps in the known narrative that informed imagination can fill while the stories of fictional characters help bring the past to life.

Historical fiction informs us about the past. It provides insights into yesterday and helps us understand today. It encourages us to persevere or warns us to change direction. It can reveal past, hidden wrongs, teach us to value the struggles of those who went before us and inspire us to preserve and build upon their achievements.

With history becoming more and more a niche subject at schools and universities, it is historical fiction that offers millions of readers a connection to the past, a past which casts long shadows.

My books are set at the turn of the nineteenth century in the extended Regency period. The simplest way to describe it is ‘the period between hoops and crinolines’. Beautiful Empire gowns, light muslins, gentlemen in severely tailored riding clothes and highly polished boots, Mr Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet, waltzes, quadrilles and the Battle of Waterloo. But it is so much more than that. Although the actual Regency during which the Prince of Wales (later King George IV) acted as regent for his father, the incapacitated King George III, lasted only from 1811 to 1820, the Regency era, characterised by distinctive trends in British architecture, literature, fashions, politics, and culture could be said to cover the period from the Prince’s marriage in 1795 to the death of his successor King William IV in 1837.

The events of this significant period of European and American history still resonate after two hundred years. The Act of Union between Great Britain and Ireland of 1800, the Anglo-American war of 1812 and the final defeat of Napoleon at the Battle of Waterloo in 1815 all continue to shape our modern world. At the same time, the ruling aristocracies were being challenged by those who saw the need for social and political reform, while the industrial revolution which led to the transfer of wealth to the manufacturing and merchant classes was underway. Women, who had few or no rights in a patriarchal society had begun to raise their voices, demanding equality and emancipation.

 

Following the collapse of the Treaty of Amiens in 1803, the United Kingdom was at war with Napoleonic France until 1815. Unlike other combatants in this long war, Britain was spared the havoc wrought by an invading army and did not suffer under an army of occupation. War was something that happened elsewhere, far away. For twelve long years, ships carrying fathers, husbands, sons and brothers sailed over the horizon and disappeared. Over three hundred thousand men did not return, dying of wounds, accidents and illness. What did this mean for those left behind without any news apart from that provided in the official dispatches published in the Gazette and what little was contained in intermittent private letters? How long did it take, I wondered, for word of those three hundred thousand deaths to reach the bereaved families? How did the widows and orphans survive? What might happen to a girl whose father and brother were ‘somewhere at sea’ if her mother died suddenly and she was left homeless?

My novels are set against this backdrop of an off-stage war in a patriarchal world where women had few or no rights or opportunities and were open to abuse and exploitation by those whom society expected to protect them. They had very little security but were held to an impossibly high moral standard. There were only two sorts of women, good and bad, and a lost reputation could never be redeemed. My characters and their stories are fictional but the world in which they live is very real and there are no twenty-first-century solutions to their dilemmas.

My debut novel, The Murmur of Masks, tells the story of Olivia’s struggle to survive and find love in an era of violence and uncertainty. An eternal triangle with a difference, it takes us from the ballrooms of the Regency to the battlefield of Waterloo.

In Perception & Illusion, published in March 2017, Lallie Grey, cast out by her father for refusing the suitor of his choice, accepts Hugo Tamrisk’s proposal, confident that he loves her as she loves him. But Hugo’s past throws long shadows as does his recent liaison with Sabina Albright. All too soon, Lallie must question Hugo’s reasons for marriage and wonder what he really wants of his bride.

In my new book, A Suggestion of Scandal, governess Rosa Fancourt finds her life and future suddenly at risk when she surprises two lovers in flagrante delicto. Even if she escapes captivity, the mere suggestion of scandal is enough to ruin a lady in her situation. In Sir Julian Loring she finds an unexpected champion but will he stand by her to the end?

 

 

Here is an excerpt from The Murmur of Masks. It is May 1814. Napoleon has escaped from Elba and rules again as Emperor. Luke Fitzmaurice has joined his regiment in Brussels.

~~~~

Lieutenant Jaspers was a dark, intense young man, not yet twenty. Despite his tender age, he had spent over nine years in the military and had served with distinction in the Peninsula. He did not blink when presented with a raw ensign some eleven years his senior but made Luke welcome.

“Glad to have you,” he said cheerfully. “We had a stroke of luck, I can tell you. We set out for America twice, but each time were forced back as the wind was against us. Imagine missing the chance of another crack at Boney! Now what do you say to a bite of dinner followed by a stroll in the park? Then we may see how we shall spend the evening.”

After the hectic scramble to make everything ready in England, it seemed somehow ridiculous to saunter in the sunshine exchanging greetings with the very same ladies to whom he had bowed a year previously in London.

“I say, Mr Fitzmaurice, do you know everyone?” his companion asked, awed by the flutter Luke’s appearance had caused among the fair sex.

“I’ve been on the town longer than you have been in the military,” Luke replied, amused, halting beside Lady Holton’s landau.

“Whatever are you doing here, Mr Fitzmaurice?” she cried after the exchange of greetings and introductions. “And in regimentals, too! Are you free this evening? You must come to my ball. And Lieutenant Jaspers as well,” she added kindly. “Where are you staying? I shall have cards sent round instanter with my direction.”

She drove off leaving the lieutenant in as hapless a state as Luke had been on the boat to Ostende.

“I know how to behave at the various hops we had in the Peninsula and attended some assemblies at home last winter, but I’ve never been to what you might call a ton ball,” he said frankly.

“You won’t find it very different,” Luke consoled him. “Wear your dress uniform and be on your best behaviour. It’s more than likely you will know some of the other officers who will be among the guests and as long as you do not consider yourself too proud to dance, you will do very well. We may go together if you like.”

“I should indeed,” the other said gratefully.

 

The lieutenant proved very much in demand among the young ladies, his tough, wiry physique, set off by features that had been refined and hardened by the rigours of the Peninsula campaign, proving a dangerous attraction to girls more used to pampered young officers who had barely seen service.

“Your friend has all our young maidens in a flutter,” Lady Holton remarked to Luke as they took a glass of champagne together. They were old companions; she had been one of his flirts some years ago and while their more intimate connection had ceased, a warm friendship remained.”

“I only met him today,” Luke answered. “You wouldn’t think it to look at him, but he was at Badajoz when the 52nd stormed it.”

“I am very grateful to him, for his dancing of every dance has, I think, spurred others on so as not to be cut out with their current interests.”

Luke was having a similar effect among the matrons; several officers who had set up flirts among the married women being quite put out at this ensign who was greeted with such warmth and clearly had his choice of partners.

“Who the devil is he?” a major muttered to a captain. “Damned dandy,” he added rather unfairly as Luke led out a lady of whom he himself had great hopes. “Here, sir,” he said to Mr Jaspers who was about to take the floor with Lady Holton’s niece. “Who’s your friend?”

“Oh, that’s Mr Fitzmaurice of ours,” the lieutenant responded coolly. “A capital fellow.”

~~~~

 

You can find out more about me at my website www.catherinekullmann.com/ where, in my Scrap Album, I blog about historical facts and trivia relating to the Regency or on my Facebook page fb.me/catherinekullmannauthor

 

Mt books are available worldwide from Amazon as e-books and paperback. Amazon links include:

Amazon.com: https://goo.gl/J3hRIf

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2n9Ljxi

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks, for a great post, Catherine. I hope you all enjoyed it.

While you’re here, why not have a look around the site? There are FREE things and a whole lot more, just follow the links at the top of the page.

If you want to be featured in a future Showcase, where you can write about whatever (within reason) you want, then please let me know. Use the comment box below and I’ll get back to you.

You can catch up on previous Showcase posts by clicking HERE

Don’t miss next Thursdays Showcase post, and my musings every Monday. As it’s now NaNo time, I will be delving into the archives on Monday.

Have a great week,

Richard.

The post The Indie Showcase presents, Catherine Kullmann. appeared first on Welcome to my Worlds..

A tale for the season.

Its the time of the year when I feature a short story for Halloween. I wrote it for a Circle of Spears performance at the Museum of Witchcraft in Boscastle. 

They left the subject up to me, but I think that they wanted a ghost story, a spooky tale of haunting and blood-curdling terror. What they got, well the idea that I had was slightly different, I wrote about loss and enduring love. And how neither time or space is important when you’re soul mates.

 

 

Called The Veil, it features the vocal talents of Tracey Norman, who you might have spotted on The Indie Showcase a couple of weeks ago.

It’s just under six minutes long, please have a listen and tell me what you think.

 

 

 

 

The Showcase returns on Thursday, with another great post.

The post A tale for the season. appeared first on Welcome to my Worlds..

The Indie Showcase presents, Jeanette Taylor Ford

 

Today, on the Showcase, I’m delighted to welcome Jeanette Taylor Ford.

 

 

Hello Richard. Thank you very much for inviting me on to your blog to tell people about me and my writing experience – and my books.

I’ve always been an avid reader. My sister and I had a collection of well over two hundred books between us when we were children, mainly by Enid Blyton. I loved all the adventures of the Famous Five and all her other characters.

Because I read so much, even though my education was patchy due to my poor health, I could write well, even as a child, with a good understanding of basic grammar.

However, many years have passed since then and although I loved writing, being the mother of six children kept me too busy to think about doing anything else! When our youngest was ten, I trained, at the age of fifty, as a teaching assistant. I then experienced ten years of frustration trying to encourage children to write!

About two years before I retired, I became Facebook friends with the brother of two girls I’d been at school with – a special school for ‘delicate’ children. David and I became firm friends as we shared our memories of the school and then discovered our mutual love of writing. We joined a poetry writing group and then graduated to a fast fiction group. He was my mentor and taught me a great deal more about writing (he was a retired lecturer). Together, encouraging each other, we embarked upon writing a book each. I wrote my first book, ‘The Sixpenny Tiger’ in 2011, and I thought that was ‘it’, I wouldn’t be able to think of anything else to write. But I was wrong. I retired in 2012 and in that year I wrote three books, ‘Bell of Warning’, followed by ‘Rosa’ and then ‘Robin’s Ring’.  I never considered publishing because I couldn’t afford ‘vanity’ publishing. Eventually, David published his books with Lulu and I discovered CreateSpace and decided to go with that. I published ‘Rosa’ first and so my journey began. I published five books before David died; he was a fan of each one.

I have now published eight books for adults, a small book of poems and short stories and a book for children, the aforementioned ‘Robin’s Ring’, now beautifully illustrated by Kathryn Green, an artist who lives near me. My experiences working with children in school led me to write Robin’s Ring. I knew that many children who love stories don’t always have the reading ability to read Harry Potter, so I wanted to write a fantasy adventure story that would be easy to read. All the settings mentioned in the book are real places around the area in which I live; again, I wrote it with the intention of encouraging local children to be interested in their surroundings. They love it but children in other places enjoy it too. The second Robin book is being illustrated now and I hope to publish it in the spring.

When I’m asked what inspires me to write, I usually say a building or a place where I sense an ‘atmosphere’. Many of my books have a paranormal element but they are not horror, more mysterious. I love old buildings, especially ruins, and I’m currently writing a ghost story inspired by a ruined mansion that’s a few miles from where I live. Gwrych Castle in North Wales inspired my ‘Castell Glas’ Trilogy, and a very old ‘black and white’ farmhouse I lived in years ago inspired ‘Aunt Bea’s Legacy’, a book I intended to be a one-off but has become a series, and I’m about to publish the third in the series, ‘Fear Has Long Fingers’. A challenge for me; while it’s set in the peaceful Herefordshire countryside, its central story is a dark crime, so I found myself writing about police investigations, which I don’t know much about! It was fun though.

I write because I love writing and when a story is buzzing around in my head, I just have to get it down. I don’t keep to a particular genre, which I suppose is against all publishing principles but as I write mainly for myself, it doesn’t matter to me. I have a growing fan base, small but faithful, and they await each new book impatiently! I haven’t tried to get published conventionally because I don’t need another career, being retired. I’m my own boss and I can put books out or not as I wish to do. Over the years I’ve ‘met’ so many other authors who are all great people and they’ve helped me tremendously and I help them whenever I can. It’s a good community to be part of and I love it.

Jeanette Taylor Ford

~~~~
Links to my books (UK and US)

https://amzn.to/2IBFzE0   Rosa

http://bit.ly/Belljtf      Bell of Warning

http://amzn.to/2kcJ9YZ   The Sixpenny Tiger

The Castell Glass Trilogy:

http://bit.ly/hiraethjtf    The Hiraeth

http://bit.ly/bronwenjtf    Bronwen’s Revenge

http://bit.ly/abjtf  Yr Aberth: The Sacrifice

The River View Series:

http://amzn.to/2so4h7y   Aunt Bea’s Legacy

https://amzn.to/2Ksj0mu   By the Gate

And, coming soon,

Fear Has Long Fingers

For Children:

http://bit.ly/2Robin1jtf   Robin’s Ring  (Paperback only as yet)

http://bit.ly/mabjtf    Mostly About Bears

Excerpt from Fear Has Long Fingers (Unedited)

 

 

 

 

She was half dragged by the two men towards what looked like a deserted mansion or similar. Even in the dark, she could see that some windows were boarded and some were broken. They went in through a door at the side, which led into a plain hallway. They opened a door and shoved her through it. Then they picked her up and laid her on a hospital-type bed against the wall. She started to scream then and kick them. Someone else came in then. She was sure it was a woman, but she had a mask on that looked like a woman’s face. She stopped, surprised. The men held her down and the woman put something over her mouth and nose. She opened her eyes wide and tried to struggle but a moment later she closed her eyes to the blackness. She never heard the door slam and lock behind the three as they left her.

 

 

 

~~~~

 

Thanks, Jeanette for a great post. I hope you all enjoyed it.

While you’re here, why not have a look around the site? There are FREE things and a whole lot more, just follow the links at the top of the page.

If you want to be featured in a future Showcase, where you can write about whatever (within reason) you want, then please let me know. Use the comment box below and I’ll get back to you.

You can catch up on previous Showcase posts by clicking HERE

Don’t miss next Thursdays Showcase post, and my musings every Monday.

Have a great week,

Richard.

The post The Indie Showcase presents, Jeanette Taylor Ford appeared first on Welcome to my Worlds..

NaNoWriMo minus nine!

 

 

NaNoWriMo starts soon, the annual attempt to write 50,000 words in a month. I’ll be doing it for the fourth time. I’ve got my strategy worked out, I know the setting for my story and have a rough idea of the plot and where it might go. Although that may change as I write, very often, I find the story changing at the whim of the characters. I’ve learned to leave them to get on with it,  in any event, the ending is usually a surprise to me, as much as I hope it will be to the reader.

I’m expanding a short story this year, a Steampunk adventure, inspired by a folklore tale from Victorian times. The working title is The Sensaurum and the Lexis. It’s not exactly Latin, after all, we are in an alternative universe, but probably close enough to let you work out what it’s about.

As some of you will know, I have form for expanding short stories, Andorra Pett started off as one and is now a series, who knows where this one might lead?

Why write Steampunk? There are lots of reasons, I remember listening to War of the Worlds, with Richard Burton narrating, it rekindled my interest in H.G.Wells. I loved films like Sky Captain,  and I think the genre has such amazing possibilities. Starting from a point in real history, you can play around with things, and explore some of the ideas that we don’t pay much attention to in this reality. I’ve always had a fascination for what might have been. The direction that society could have taken if things had been different. The advances in different branches of science they might have, discoveries that we haven’t made, or the ones that we have, only done in another, slightly different way.

To get into the mood, I also try to write in the style of the late Victorian writer, such as H.G. Wells or Jules Verne, using the somewhat florid idiom of the time. I think it helps to immerse the reader in the world, emphasise its differences.

 

 

I’ve already written two Steampunk novels and a collection of short stories, which also means that I have a wealth of backstory and world-building that I can use.

While NaNo is in progress, I’ll be slightly busier than normal, so I’ve already written my Monday posts for the month. Every week, I’ll be posting extracts from my previous year’s NaNo efforts. The Showcase will carry on as usual.

Here’s the opening of the short story, the base for my novel, and a first look at the cover. It was a collaborative design, I found the graphics and my wife designed the layout and typography. With something that good, I’m under pressure to write a cracking story. I can’t give you the blurb yet, as I don’t know what will happen, I just know that it’s going to be a busy month. Prepare for adventure!

~~~~

Jack was hungry, that was the trouble with the orphanage, there were just too many mouths and never enough in the serving dishes to fill them all.

The older children and their gangs of sycophants generally did alright; it was the young and the weak that went hungry. Jack was not young but because he was polite and avoided picking on those smaller than him, he was seen as weak. In consequence, he was always hungry or bruised from his encounters with the bigger children; who were the only well-fed ones among the inmates. This mealtime had been the same; as soon as the gruel had been slopped into the bowls the bigger had descended and grabbed at the plates of the slowest.

Even so, life in the orphanage was better than a life on the streets. Thameside was not the safest place; there were dangers on every corner, from the machines in the factories to the new-fangled things that moved along the roads. And the people who preyed on their fellows, press-gangs, robbers, slave-masters and all sorts of felons. That was before the effects of the smoke and choking fumes from industry. At least here you were fed something and only had to do light work, picking oakum or cutting sailcloth for the Navy.

Jack did have an advantage though, unknown to the bullies he had been befriended by Mrs Grimble, the cook’s assistant, she had seen him share what little he had and had developed a soft spot for the lad.

“My boy Edgar was like you,” she would say as she smuggled him a treat, a biscuit rich with honey or a fruited bun from Mr Templestowe’s own table. “He went away with the army and never came back, lost in some foreign land he was, killed by savages and buried where he fell.”

Jack thought her simple in the head, for she said the same thing every time they met. But it would be foolish of him to mention it; the treats might well stop if he did. He may have been many things but he was not stupid.

So he merely pulled a sorrowful face and said, “how sad,” being careful not to show too much emotion. To be honest, he was not really interested in the tale, people died, that was the way it was. Whether you were dead in Thameside or dead in a foreign land it was all the same in the end.

Although he supposed, if you had to be dead, being dead in a foreign land had some attractions; at least you would have lived in bright sunshine and clean air for a while. And it was safe to assume that you were generally well fed in the army, or at least better fed than you were in the orphanage.

Jack’s stomach rumbled again and he sneaked away from the din of the common room towards the kitchen. At this time of the day Mrs Grimble would be there alone and that meant more chance of a treat. It was dark as he crossed the yard. A fine, misty rain fell, dragging the coal dust from the air, making the drops on his face feel coarse and gritty. His feet felt the wetness of the cobbles through the worn soles of his boots.

When he got to the kitchen doorway and peered around it, Mrs Grimble was absent, she must have gone home already, Jack thought. He ventured into the room; the hunger a real thing now, it felt like a worm writhing in his belly; perhaps some comestibles had been left out. If he searched he could maybe find a mouthful or two.

In the corner of the kitchen there was a large coal range, at least it was usually in the corner, now it seemed to be moved away from the wall into the middle of the room. Jack could see that it was mounted on wheels, together with its tiled surround. He had never noticed that before, the flue had been uncoupled and hung from the ceiling. There was a dark hole in the wall behind its place. He crept towards it, expecting all the time to hear a shout, he was poised to run and dodge the blow from a master’s swishing, stinging cane.

Reaching the hole, he saw the start of a flight of stone steps that led down. They were poorly lit by flickering gas lamps. The plain brick walls had dark lines of condensation staining their faces. It smelt faintly musty, like the crypt at the church they were forced to attend most days.

There were voices below, faint and indistinct. As he tentatively moved toward the top step, he kicked a solid object, it made a scraping noise as his foot moved it across the flags. The noise below stopped. Jack bent down; there was a pair of boots on the ground, stout boots with hobnailed soles, better than his boots which were more hole than sole. The tread had a strange pattern but Jack assumed that it was to enable a better grip on muddy paths.

He tried them on, below him, the muttering resumed. The boots fitted him perfectly and as he laced them he felt their robust construction. Standing upright, they felt strange, perhaps it was due to the thickness of the soles. He would soon get used to that.

There was an obstruction in each boot, a hard place by his big toe, like a stone. Apart from that, they were perfect. He had no qualms about taking them, as long as no one saw him do it.

He was more worried about how he could hide them from the attention of the others in his dormitory, more especially from Alyious, who was the biggest and worst of the bullies. Perhaps if he dirtied them so they looked less like a new pair, they might remain his for a while.

His attention had been distracted by the boots; he had not noticed the soft tread of the person who approached. The hand on his shoulder was totally unexpected. He tried to duck and spin away from the grip but the new boots let him down. Sparks flew from their nails as they slipped on the flags and his feet skidded for purchase.

His balance lost, he fell. He bounced off each step on the way down, landing in a bruised heap at the foot of the stairs.

~~~~

What will happen next? Even I don’t know that, but I’m hoping to find out.

Join me for another Showcase on Thursday

 

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The Indie Showcase presents, Tracey Norman

My guest this week on the Showcase is a master of many disciplines. Please welcome Tracey Norman.

 

 

Tracey is an actor and author living in mid-Devon with her husband, daughter and a feline trip hazard. She writes in several genres – children’s, horror, historical fiction and fantasy. She is currently working on the first in her fantasy series The Fire Eyes Chronicles, as well as a non-fiction title; leading on from her historical drama WITCH.

 

 

 

 

 

I have always been a storyteller. One of my earliest childhood memories is sitting for hours at a time, acting out stories, which I always told aloud, with voices and sound effects. I still do that today, except now, it is my job. As well as being one-third of Circle of Spears Productions, an indie audio production house and theatre company, I also narrate audiobooks freelance on Audible and write in whatever time I have available between jobs.

There is something truly magical about creating a world for people to lose themselves in. There is so much to consider – the landscape; the people or creatures who live in it and how they interact with each other; politics, both local and world-wide; whether they use magic and, if so, how; communication and transport systems, technology… the list goes on. One thing I like to do is to weave something familiar into the unfamiliar when I am creating a world.

For example, my recent release, The Septillion of Hheserakh, features a number of familiar folkloric characters in rather more unusual settings and situations. There are creatures from Sweden and Cornwall mixed in with the dragons and elves, trolls and goblins, as well as parallels with Dartmoor lore. Many of the names have a strong Old Norse flavour.

The Septillion is a collection of fictional myths and legends from the Hheserakhian Empire in Koreswen, the magical world in my fantasy series The Fire-Eyes Chronicles. It can be enjoyed as a stand-alone read, but will also be a companion book to the series, providing the reader with the same depth of knowledge as the characters in some instances.

The Chronicles follow the story of feisty young elf Aamena, who, faced with a dull, uninspiring future mapped out by her parents and clan custom, strikes out alone to find her place in the world. She realises soon enough that she has no idea what she is looking for. Her search takes her through much of the Empire and, eventually, to the island of Qalend, home to Koreswen’s last surviving dragons.

The Septillion features the stories Aamena would have heard as a child and, as a result, many are set within Hheserakh’s Great Forest of the North, which she used to call home. Here is an extract from a tale which she would have known well – The Musician and the Candle-maker, or How the Elves got their Pointed Ears.

 

One day, Zentha was in her workshop as usual, stirring her vat of hot wax, humming gently to herself and thinking about the designs for the batch of candles she was planning for the Temple. The workshop was attached to her house, with a door at the back which led into her living area and one at the front, which her customers used. The whole place smelled pleasantly of candles and there were shelves all along one wall which held examples of Zentha’s fine craftsmanship. There were windows in three of the four walls, so it was a beautiful, airy, peaceful place to work. She had placed a trio of chairs near the front door, so that customers had somewhere to sit to discuss their needs and so that she could enjoy a cup of nettle tea with her friends when they passed by and stopped to chat. Every now and then, Zentha would look around her and give thanks to the Great Bál and the Benevolent Frodleikr that she was successful in her work and had the means to live so comfortably.

All of a sudden, she heard a high, sweet melody from somewhere in the forest behind her workshop. She paused in her work, fascinated, for she could not identify the instrument and had never heard the tune before. It was light, airy and magical, twisting and turning like a woodland breeze and it captivated her. She carefully moved the vat from the fire, leaving it close by so the wax wouldn’t solidify, then went outside, removing her apron. She unfastened the scarf she wore around her head to keep her long red hair from accidentally falling into the wax as she worked. Hanging the apron on a tree stump by the door, she walked around the side of the building, head tilted to one side as she listened to the music, trying to work out where it was coming from.

Not far from the house, there was a small stream which, at one point, dropped over a ledge about as tall as Zentha and landed in a bubbling pool below before continuing on its way through the forest towards the coast a few miles away. Zentha and her closest neighbours collected their water from this pool and washed their clothes downstream of it, and Zentha often sat next to the pool in the evenings, sipping nettle tea and enjoying the tranquillity of the forest around her.

Her feet took her down the familiar path and, as she approached the pool, she could tell that the mysterious musician was somewhere nearby. As she drew nearer, she could feel the music inside her, swelling in her chest, caressing her head and tickling a spring into her step. By the time she made her way past the giant flowering shrub which hid the pool from the path, she was almost dancing.

Sitting atop the ledge next to the water, one leg dangling over the edge, was a young man of about her age. Like many of her people, he was tall and slim, with long dark hair and large green eyes which twinkled at her above the unusual instrument he was playing. She stared, trying to work out what it was, for it looked like a straight, pale stick.

Seeing her curiosity, he winked at her and ended the melody with a flourish before rising to his feet and bowing to her. He moved with a fluid grace and she found herself blushing and peeping up at him from beneath her eyelashes as she dropped into a curtsey.

“Good day to you, fair maid,” he called. His voice was deep and melodious and sent a thrill through her. “I am Jonik, of the Clan of Three Oaks.”

“Good day to you, sir. I am Zentha of Dragonheart,” she replied.

~~~~

To find out how Jonik and Zentha’s story is connected to the elves’ pointed ears, you can pick up a copy of the Septillion from www.thefolklorepodcast.com

My Lovecraftian-themed short horror story Dark Words can be enjoyed in two very different anthologies. For Secret Invasion

(a charity anthology raising money for MIND), visit http://www.blurb.co.uk/b/6597041-secret-invasion or, for something a little less horror-based, you can also enjoy it in Fairy Tales and Folklore Reimagined

at http://btwnthelines.com/dd-product/fairy-tales-and-folklore-re-imagined/

 

 

 

 

 

My children’s book Sammy’s Saturday Job  about a little dragon who wants to be a firefighter, is available on Amazon at https://www.amazon.co.uk/Sammys-Saturday-Job-Tracey-Norman-ebook/dp/B0736DL7KP

 

 

 

 

 

 

My historical drama WITCH  is available as an audio play at https://www.circleofspears.com/store/p37/WITCH_%28Audio_CD%29.html

Check out my work at www.thefireeyeschronicles.co.uk  and www.traceynormanswitch.com

Follow me on Twitter @fireeyeschron and @WITCHplayCoS

Follow me on Facebook @TraceyNormanAuthor

Follow me on Instagram @aamena2019

If you enjoy audiobooks, check out my work at www.circleofspears.com

~~~~

Thanks, Tracey for a great post. I hope you all enjoyed it. And if you haven’t downloaded The Septillion, you really should, it’s full of brilliant stories

While you’re here, why not have a look around the site? There are FREE things and a whole lot more, just follow the links at the top of the page.

If you want to be featured in a future Showcase, where you can write about whatever (within reason) you want, then please let me know. Use the comment box below and I’ll get back to you.

You can catch up on previous Showcase posts by clicking HERE

Don’t miss next Thursdays Showcase post, and my musings every Monday, next week, I’ll be telling you about my preparations for the annual ritual that is NaNoWriMo.

Have a great week,

Richard.

The post The Indie Showcase presents, Tracey Norman appeared first on Welcome to my Worlds..

Lights, Camera, Video!

I was going to say action but…

I wanted a short promotional video for my next novel, as I’m trying to do a lot more to advertise the fact that it’s on the way.

I had a look at all sorts of companies and software that guaranteed me a great product, and then I saw the price, while I don’t mind paying for something good, I wondered if I couldn’t manage it myself.

I guess it’s all connected with my career. Being on a ship, miles from anywhere 40 years ago, if something broke, you had to mend it (or find a way to cope without it). It’s probably the same now, ships might be faster and communications better but crews are smaller. I know of one ship’s officer who had to remove an appendix from a crewman in the middle of the Pacific, no choice there, he did it successfully and all was well. While I never had to be quite so radical (I only ever gave injections and sewed people up), I did develop the ability to make or modify, to keep things running and to innovate where I had too.

Making a video isn’t quite as crucial as some of the things I’ve had to do, but I like to think that I can have a go at most tasks. Maybe not live-action movie making but a ninety-second book trailer ought to be within my capabilities?

Not only that, if I could master the art, I could make as many videos as I wanted, for no extra cost. My only outlay would be the time involved.

I found that I already had most of the things I needed, a graphics programme (Canva), determination and time.

I used a well-known search engine to find Royalty free pictures (Pixabay) and music (Purple-Planet), and a free video production programme called OpenShot.

Now that’s all well and good, of course, you don’t just need the tools, you need the ideas. I spent a while looking at other video trailers for inspiration. As I said before, live action is out of the question, there are alien planet location difficulties! An animation was a no-go. I can’t draw and it would take me too long anyway (I have a life). The most accessible format seemed to be the slideshow, using a music track to synchronise with the slides and produce tension and excitement.

I looked online for advice and made up a storyboard (a list of the points), breaking down the message I wanted to convey into short sentences. I decided on the theme, dark and mysterious and found a great piece of music.

Using Canva, I turned my storyboard ideas into slides. When I had saved them all, I added it all together, listening to the music gave me the placement of the images, for maximum effect. When I had them arranged and all the transitions (fades) sorted out, I simply pressed record. It was as easy as that.

 

The first version was OK, but I could see a few things that could be changed. After a bit of tweaking, this is the current version.

 

 

It’s not Cameron or Speilberg, by any stretch of the imagination. It’s not even the finished article but it’s a start. I’ve used a mock-up of my book cover, which will need to be replaced with the real one when I get it, but I’m pretty happy with how it’s come out. Now I’ve got the video bug, and I know roughly what I’m doing, writing duties may well become secondary for a while as I play with my new toys. I might even make videoes for all my other books as well.

I’ll be back on Thursday with another Showcase, see you then.

The post Lights, Camera, Video! appeared first on Welcome to my Worlds..

The Indie Showcase presents, Chris Tetreault-Blay

This week, on the Showcase, I’m delighted to welcome Chris Tetreault-Blay.

Over to you Chris,

 

A lot of people laugh when I tell them when and why I started writing.

Maybe it’s the fact that I always sum it up along the lines of, ‘Finding out I was going to be a father encouraged me to write a horror story about the apocalypse.’

But for me, that is pretty much how it started. Not in quite the way that I may make it sound, but it is true to say that up until early-September 2013, I had only been playing around with putting words to paper for a few months. That summer was a time of massive change for me; my wife and I bought our own home for the first time, I started a new job and battled through a particularly dark place personally.

But the light at the end of it all came on 14th September that year, when my wife sent me a photo of her pregnancy test result. I suddenly had so many words and emotions bubbling inside me, I didn’t know what to do. So I decided to start writing a diary of my journey towards fatherhood, intended only for the eyes of my unborn children. But the process of writing became so powerful and therapeutic; it helped created images of another place in my mind. Somewhere where my own characters finally started taking form.

And thus, Wildermoor was born.

I never intended to be a writer. It became something that occupied me on my lunch breaks at work. I hadn’t had the burning desire to write my own stories, but I guess I had the makings of this type of creativity from a young age. I was cursed with a restless mind, often drifting off into imaginary scenarios, still rooted in the real world somehow but places where I could be someone different, someone a lot cooler than I actually was.

I get distracted easily, so putting my mind to something in particular – especially anything which I did not have a set goal to work towards – always felt near-impossible. One of the only areas I really had any focus was at work; mainly because I knew at the end of the month I was working towards that wage packet. And, of course, the desire to push myself developmentally, wanting to reach whatever heights in my career that I was capable.

But when I discovered writing, it became the one distraction that I found myself seamlessly slipping into whenever I wanted. And importantly, considering I wrote mainly during my work breaks, I was able to step away from it just as easily back into my version of the real world…comforted by the thought that I would return to my other happy place the next day.

I often feel guilty and proud, in equal measure, when I realise that my first book Acolyte has been taken on by three different publishers throughout its short life so far…and all on the first time of asking.

I have only experienced rejection once, with a book that still remains unpublished. I think to myself sometimes that maybe that isn’t always a great thing; surely in this game, the knock-backs are what drive you even stronger towards your goal the next time.

I’m not naïve, though; I know full well that my books belong in a niche market and don’t meet everyone’s tastes, and I could have easily been rejected dozens of times over, I’m sure. But I believe in fate. My first submission of Acolyte came off the back of a seemingly-random Facebook advert landing on my news feed by Bloodhound Books, asking for submissions. I took a chance, and so did they. They gave me my break.

Each of my publishers so far has helped move my books along, have helped them grow into what they are today. And they have helped me grow as a writer. Throughout it all, I have learnt to be eternally thankful for every chance I have been given to get my work out there. And I continue to be.

Along the way, I have had five books published, each giving me the opportunity to delve into the darkest recesses of my mind. As an author, especially in the early years, there is always a danger of getting too hung up on sales figures. I am now in a place where the number of copies I sell isn’t my main concern. Some people will buy my books. Many won’t. The most valuable part of the journey for me has been – and continues to be – the reviews. Good or bad, I love to see what my readers think of my stories, which is why I ask anyone who buys my books if they can take the time to leave a review. Knowing that my book has left an impression of any kind on someone tells me that I’ve done my job as a writer.

It’s not been plain sailing, I won’t lie. I’ve been crippled by frustration and self-doubt. A few months ago I thought I had firmly decided to step away from writing. I gave it a go, got as far as I possibly could…or so I thought.  Another story popped into my head, planted a seed and I couldn’t do anything to stop it growing.

I guess writing is rooted deeper in me than I thought. Now I know not to stifle it.

As I write this, I am on the brink of a whole new phase of my writing journey. I may actually be on the verge of breaking into what I consider to be the most challenging, yet rewarding, genre – children’s books. However, I cannot yet divulge any details.

That, as they say, is just a different story to tell at another time.

====================================================================================

If you’d like to keep updated with what is going on in my writing world, then do please follow me on social media:

Facebook: www.facebook.com/ChrisTetreaultBlay

Twitter: @TetreaultBlay

Blog: https://houseofcourtenay.wixsite.com/storyman

 

Acolyte, the first instalment in the Wildermoor Apocalypse, is available here for Kindle and in paperback.

The other titles in my back catalogue are to be re-released by my publisher Britain’s Next Bestseller over the coming months. Stay tuned!

 

 

 

ACOLYTE

 

For centuries, many believed that the world would end in 2012. The fact that we are still here dispelled this as just another myth.

 

But what if the end really had begun, only in a quiet corner of the world that very few knew even existed?

 

 

 

 

 

 

March 1684

 

Under the guidance of their despicable leader, The Council of Eternal Light sacrifice innocent lives for the sake of his diabolical plan – to complete the Ascension Rite and summon an unfathomable evil to reap revenge on those that shunned them.

 

Ewan Childs leads the search for the woman he loves; the latest of the Council’s intended victims. It will lead him to the Council’s lair, face-to-face with a horror beyond his wildest nightmares.

 

August 2002

 

A killer claims another life, claiming to be under the control of a terrifying hooded spectre known as The Reaper. The Council of Eternal Light reconvenes, aware that the crimes signal the start of the master plan they set in motion over three hundred years earlier.

 

For Detective Inspector Truman Darke, it is a race against time as he finds himself at the centre of his own manhunt. He must cling to what remains of his life and his sanity, whilst unearthing the secrets of Wildermoor’s dark past…as well as his own.

 

The end has begun. First, for Wildermoor. Next…the world.

~~~~

Thanks, Chris, for your post. I hope you all enjoyed it. And if horror’s your thing, give the books a try.

While you’re here, why not have a look around the site? There are FREE things and a whole lot more, just follow the links at the top of the page.

If you want to be featured in a future Showcase, where you can write about whatever (within reason) you want, then please let me know. Use the comment box below and I’ll get back to you.

You can catch up on previous Showcase posts by clicking HERE

Don’t miss next Thursdays Showcase post, and my musings every Monday. Next time, I’ll be talking about a new skill I’m trying to master.

Have a great week,

Richard.

The post The Indie Showcase presents, Chris Tetreault-Blay appeared first on Welcome to my Worlds..

The Lost Princess

As Ribbonworld passes 2,500 downloads, I can announce that the prequel, called The Lost Princess, will be published at Christmas. It’s currently with my beta readers and I’m waiting to hear what they think of it.

 

The Balcom series so far, parts one and two.

 

I wanted to write it to set the scene and explain a lot of the background to the series so far. The first part of the story, Ribbonworld, was my second novel, after the problems that I had writing the first, I knew it had to be written in a different way. To make my life easier, once I had the basic idea for the story; I spent a lot of time developing the universe and characters before I started on the narrative. In the end, I never actually used all of my notes in the book, but they helped in my understanding of how it all fitted together.

After all that effort, it seemed a shame to waste my concept and ideas. Hence the sequel, Jungle Green, and the third part, which is currently underway. Who knows, there may even be more, there’s a whole Galaxy to write about.

As a bonus, based on my methods,  I also wrote a guide to world-building, but that’s another story.

Not only that, once I started getting feedback, I found that I got a lot of questions from readers about the past of the characters, as many as I did about what might happen next. I started to realise that I could use all that material to continue the series backwards. I was intending to have a flashback sequence in part three. I decided that it might be a good idea to have a fourth story instead, a part zero if you like.

Which doesn’t mean that part three won’t have any background, there’s still a lot of material that I haven’t used. Plus, there was no way I could get everyone’s point of view into the prequel. By moving some of the content to part zero, I’ve now got more room for some new storylines, watch this space.

Anyhow, that’s enough about the background, let’s get on to the book. It’s a novella, about half the length of one of my normal stories, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve skimped on the action.

 

 

Blurb

 

Where is Layla Balcom?

The most famous woman in the Galaxy, heiress to the Balcom empire, has vanished. Has she simply exchanged her celebrity life for peace and quiet or has the unthinkable happened?

In the midst of the search; where rumours and speculation are rife, journalist Miles Goram thinks that he’s found the answer. A girl on the run suggests that Layla could be a hostage, in a club where the rich indulge their fantasies. It’s located on Dalyster, a corrupt and secretive world. A place where his status as a reporter will do him no favours in his efforts to uncover the truth.

Miles is caught in the rivalry between politicians and businessmen, is his world about to fall apart around him?

 

 

 

Here’s a short extract.

 

“Well, that was a waste of time, thanks, Miles.”

Bryn Hopkins threw his camera bag down on the desk in front of me and slumped into a chair. The newsroom was noisy with chatter and the continual feed from our rival’s channels, nobody else could have heard his remark.

“What’s up Bryn, Layla Balcom give you the runaround, did she?” I asked, smiling to myself. Layla was a seasoned celebrity, she enjoyed playing games with hard working paparazzi like us. And Bryn, for all his genius as a cameraman, was old school. What he knew about modern celebrities and their antics in the world of flash feeds and trends was gleaned from his daughters, who were about my age.

“She wasn’t there,” Bryn said. He changed his tone, speaking in a passable version of my voice. “Just a simple job Bryn, get pictures of Layla Balcom at the Prestige Fashion awards, and make sure you get at least one good shot of her bending over!”

I threw an empty cardboard coffee cup at his head; “I never said that. I said to get a few pictures of her clothes for Gaynor.”

“What was he getting for me,” Gaynor Rice, the assistant editor of Getaway, had come over to the desk. “You’re the Balcom expert Miles, how come you weren’t with Bryn?”

“I’m doing this piece on the organised crime in the Jigsaw Islands,” I replied, “just like you told me to. I thought that Bryn could cover it on his own, it was an easy job, just a few pictures from the press pound. You know that no one ever gets close enough to Layla to get an interview.”

“Except she never showed,” Bryn said, “All day I stood there, watching the bloody models mincing up and down. Looking at the rich and famous clapping their little hearts out at the rubbish they only just had on. Fixing my gaze on Donna bloody Markes in her chair in the front row.” He paused for breath.

“Nice words,” said Gaynor, “perhaps you should be a journalist, not a photographer, perhaps you could have Miles’ job?”

I hoped she was joking, you never knew with Gaynor. We were an item, unofficially of course. The rest of the staff at Getaway would have had a field day if they had known I was involved with the boss. Somehow, we had managed to keep it secret, largely by pretending to dislike each other in public.

“What do you mean, she never showed?” I asked. “She’s always there at these awards, she presents one on behalf of her old man, she might wind us up, but she’d never upset him by forgetting.” I looked through the flash-feed. “Here we are, the day before yesterday. She said, ‘looking forward to the tag-Prestige Fashion-tag awards, who’s won this year? I know, but I’m not telling.’”

“Yeah well…,” Bryn screwed his face up, “Like I said, it was Igor’s new squeeze, that Donna Markes who did the honours. She arrived late, and she looked like she hated every minute of it. I got plenty of photos of that.”

“But we can’t use them, Bryn,” Gaynor said, “Igor would go crazy if we showed his new love interest looking anything less than perfect. If he finds out you’ve even kept the pictures, he’ll do his nut.”

She thought for a while, “Layla always shows when she says, it’s not like her. And there’s been nothing on her feed to say she was ill or double booked. When did anyone actually see her, in the flesh?”

That was easy, I had been there. “Six days ago,” I said. “She arrived back from a skiing holiday on Galthon, I was at the port, along with a whole load of other people. She made sure that we all saw her, her hair was purple, her eyes were vivid yellow, like an owl’s.”

Gaynor smiled, Layla’s hair and eye colour changes were legendary. Mind you, Gaynor’s hair was orange today. It was all done with a specially formulated shampoo and a fancy box of electronics in your pocket, a simple idea that had made someone very wealthy.

“And nobody has seen her since? I smell a story here. Miles, how much have you still got to do on that crime piece?”

“Just about done, Gaynor,” I said. “There’s definitely something going on, it’s well organised too, my sources reckon the big boss is someone off-world.”

She made a decision, “Right, well you can dump it now. Send me everything you have, I’ll take a look. I’ve got a feeling that there’s more here than just Layla missing a fashion show. Here’s a new job for you. Find Layla Balcom, find out why she wasn’t there today, go back through everything since she got back from Galthon, see what she’s been up to. But do it quietly, and make sure that you find her before anyone else does.”

~~~~

I’d love to hear what you think, please leave me a comment below. And Ribbonworld is still FREE on Amazon.

As I said, The Lost Princess will be published in December. To begin with, it will be available as an eBook, more details to follow.

I’ll be back on Thursday with another Indie Showcase, have a good week.

Richard.

The post The Lost Princess appeared first on Welcome to my Worlds..

The Indie Showcase presents, P.J.Reed

This week, on the Showcase, I’m pleased to welcome a fellow Exeter Author.

P.J. Reed writes epic fantasy.

I would like to thank Richard Dee for inviting me to his place – somewhere passed the asteroid belt, to talk about my world which is based around the country of Torcia. A place which developed in parallel to our own world but in the late Dark Ages split from our own timeline with the discovery of the magical powers of faulstan crystals…

My writing adventure was not planned or in a family of teachers expected or wanted. I just fell into writing and to the horror of my family became a writer!

I remember that in junior school I loved writing plays – not your normal children’s plays about fairy tale princesses. These were exciting, adventures about travelling the world finding treasure and battling evil forces. I also had a voracious appetite for reading and I read every book I could lay my hands on. My prized possessions were a row of red hardbacked Enid Blyton books and I used to create my own miniature books. My writing then stopped at secondary school as homework got in the way and effectively stamped all over any creative output. Eventually, I went to teacher training college. You had to do courses in each subject and doing a primary English course on how to teach children to write poetry proved a pivotal moment in my writing career. I really enjoyed scribbling out poems, unlike the rest of the college and my lecturer took me to one side and told me to think about a career in poetry.

I don’t know if this was a comment about my teaching ability or my writing ability but from that moment on I began to write.

My writing routine if I have one revolves around children, pets, and housework. So, I have no set times to work. I just write when I am able – which means when the house is relatively calm and peaceful. I write in my bedroom behind a shut door listening to soundtracks on YouTube. However, as soon as I enter into the world I am creating the music disappears and time in this reality stops. I once spent 7 hours writing caught in the world of Torcia. When I finished the scene, I came back to reality and realized not only had I missed lunch and tea break, but the evening meal was looking rather dodgy too.

That is the beauty of writing – you travel to new worlds and change the ordinary for the extraordinary.

The inspiration for ‘The Torcian Chronicles’ came, like all my story ideas – a vision of events happening which run like a film in my thoughts. So, I saw the opening of my book that of Mesham sitting in his hovel drinking wine while his country burns, and I just started writing to answer the questions I wanted to know?

Who was he?
What was happening?
Who was invading Torcia?

From those three questions an epic, dark fantasy novel appeared.

The book is very special to me because the characters are real, and it is a commentary about their life, struggles, and heroism in the face of grave danger. The title of the book ‘Defiance’ is significant because the book is about a group of people from the edges of society bound together in a quest to defend Torcia. Each one has to choose whether to stand up and fight for what they believe or to do nothing and let their country fall.

The setting for this book is the two great lands of Torcia and Mivir. While Torcia rejected magic as evil and passed laws to regulate its magic users forcing them to wear clothes and badges identifying them to the law-abiding good people of Torcia, Mivir embraced magic. The country became ruled by an omnipotent warlock who created armies of magically enhanced soldiers – the deadly Mivirian Outriders. Unfortunately, Leodhator, king of the Mivirians, used too much magic, mining the faulstan crystals which stored the aweosung energy used to create all spells, until few remained. It was then that King Leodhator looked towards Torcia, a country with fields full of unmined faulstan crystals and protected by a weak mortal army. Then one night without warning Mivir invaded. ‘Defiance’ begins a week after the invasion when Torcia stands on the brink of collapse.

The story begins in the Walled City in the once peaceful kingdom of Torcia. The city is bursting with terrified, starving civilians trapped as the Mivirian invasion sweeps across the Kingdom. Left for dead the Captain of the Northern Warband watches his men being slaughtered in a clearing by the Ghost Marshes. Torcia is on the brink of destruction. However, one warlock still lives, Mesham of the Walled City. Although of advanced years and bad temperament, he has the strongest magic of anyone still living in Torcia. The King, aware of the significance of Mesham, entrusts the shocked warlock with the task of saving a country that despises him. In the caves of the Scir Dun Mountains; the King, Lokir and his two high councillors open the ancient scroll containing Eftboren Galdor, the rejuvenation incantation. The powers of the spell are magnified by the faulstan flakes of the chamber and the spell explodes. The King and his councillors seek refuge behind the broken altar while Mesham is transported to a shadow world. In the shadow world, Mesham meets Aewielm a water dragon, who reluctantly decides to help the Torcian cause. Mesham is rejuvenated but not before he sees a vision of King Athemar talking to the Mivirian King Leodhator.

Once back in his own world Mesham finds that Councillor Abrecan has been murdered and the Walled City destroyed. The sole survivor of the massacre is the castle messenger Shadral, who joins Mesham in his mission. They are forced to take the Ragna Road to Deorctreow village in the hope of acquiring a guide to take them over the Mivir Mountains. Unfortunately, Ragna is a cursed place and after fighting their way through its many trials they are captured by the Dwellers who are under orders from Councillor Baberekan to kill the traitors on sight. They are taken to a Dweller hideout and are thrown into the cellars to be butchered and served at the Inn that night. Mesham uses his magic much to Shadral’s consternation to escape. They steal ponies and head to the monoliths which marks the end of Deorctreow Forest. Surrounded by the Dweller army, they escape through a tiny hole in the base of the monolith. The hole leads to a complex underground cave system once used by the Wiccecræften to illegally practice magic. Using the secret tunnels, Mesham and Shadral race to the Ghost Marsh pursued by the Dwellers. They are attacked by a marsh beast. Fortunately, a wildman leaps to their aid and leads them to the relative safety of his stone hut on the Grey Plains. The stranger reveals himself to be the wrongfully disgraced Captain Sicam of the Northern Warband. The Captain is eager to join the fight against Mivir once more and joins the companions in their mission to save Torcia.

I have had some wonderful feedback about Torcia, which I am very grateful for and I think this one sums up the story probably better than I can –

‘It’s been a while since I read a solid, original fantasy that brought together kingdoms, loners, and unlikely heroes but this one certainly did the trick! I loved the premise of the lacklustre son, the exiled captain, and outcast warlock who’s been given a new lease on life having to come together against all odds. Their quest was not only exciting, but necessary, and though the concept of warlocks is not new their magic in this story was unique. In fact, Reed’s world building is complete and encompasses different peoples, places, threats and creatures – not once did I feel that there was a lack of detail. This isn’t one of those fantasies where you feel like you’re reading the same old stuff – it’s new, exciting, and undeniably fun.’ by Minimac

This book is an epic, dark fantasy story, so will appeal to people who like Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, Merlin, and Game of Thrones. It is not for the faint of heart but for heroes and even villains willing to battle for what they believe in.

 

Promotional Links

Visit my website at http://fantasyworlds.jigsy.com

The Torcian Chronicles is available in paperback and eBook formats from Amazon

 

Social Media –

Follow on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/TheTorcianChronicles

Twitter at https://twitter.com/PJReed_author

~~~~

Thanks, P.J. for a great post. I hope you all enjoyed it. And if you haven’t read the Torcian Chronicles, you really should, it’s brilliant!!!

You can find my review of the Torcian Chronicles by clicking this link.

While you’re here, why not have a look around the site? There are FREE things and a whole lot more, just follow the links at the top of the page.

If you want to be featured in a future Showcase, where you can write about whatever (within reason) you want, then please let me know. Use the comment box below and I’ll get back to you.

You can catch up on previous Showcase posts by clicking HERE

Don’t miss next Thursdays Showcase post, on Monday, I’ll be introducing my latest work.

Have a great week,

Richard.

The post The Indie Showcase presents, P.J.Reed appeared first on Welcome to my Worlds..

Corruption by Elizabeth Ducie.

Today, I’m on tour, in association with Rachels Random Resources, looking at the new book from Elizabeth Ducie

 

 

 

Out of fear. Out of greed. Out of evil. Corruption springs from many roots.

Teenagers fall prey to a deadly new drug craze sweeping across Russia. Pharmaceuticals destined for Africa turn up on the backstreets of Moscow, St Petersburg and Vladivostok. Regulator Suzanne Jones and her sister, Charlie, fight to stop the pushers before more kids die.

But will their discoveries mean a friend goes to prison? And are they putting their loved ones in danger?

With old adversaries and surprising new allies, the Jones sisters face their toughest challenge to date. The heart-stopping final episode in the Suzanne Jones series of thrillers set in the sometimes murky world of international pharmaceuticals

 

 

 

My Review

This is the third of the Jones sisters’ books by Elizabeth Ducie and I have to admit it’s the first I’ve read.  Joining a series half-way through can sometimes be a problem. Fortunately, any backstory that you need is neatly explained, meaning that I didn’t have to work out the relationships and pasts of the main characters.

The author has a background in pharma and it’s been put to good use. The setting and all the little details are convincing and ring true. I don’t know her background in criminality? but that part of the story is pretty realistic too, there’s a conspiracy, blackmail and all sorts of action mixed in with the story of drug smuggling in modern day Russia. It sounds real; therefore it holds my attention.

There’s a lot of topical relevance too, right from the start my interest was piqued, very soon I was hooked into wanting to know what would happen next. I started to care about the characters, question motives, form my own theories.

Two apparently unconnected chapters get us going and set the scene. These are both incredibly well described, atmospheric, completely different and made me wonder where this was all leading. Then there’s a chance meeting and we’re off. When you think that things are starting to become clearer. there’s a twist, and then another. You head off in a different direction. You get sucked into the story, it all fits together, the combination of present-day action and the background to it combine brilliantly.

This chain of events drags all the players together and suspicions turn to revelations, requiring action. Some old faces from the first books turn up, they assimilate into the ensemble perfectly. There’s a lot of action but the pace is perfectly judged. In the end, everything comes together. The ending is satisfying, but with enough left over to make you want more, just as it should be.

Reading Corruption has made me want to read the other two novels and while I believe that this is to be the last in the series, surely there’s the scope for a fourth?

And my verdict,

 

 

 

 

Purchase Links

Amazon: http://geni.us/Corruption

Link to other ebook platforms: https://www.books2read.com/u/38rGxO

 

Author Bio

 

 

When Elizabeth Ducie had been working in the international pharmaceutical industry for nearly thirty years, she decided she’d like to take a break from technical writing—textbooks, articles and training modules—and write about some of her travel experiences instead. She took some courses in Creative Writing and discovered to her surprise that she was happier, and more successful, writing fiction than memoirs or life-writing. In 2012, she gave up the day job and started writing full-time. She has published three novels, three collections of short stories and a series of manuals on business skills for writers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Social Media Links –

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/Elizabeth-Ducie-Author-312553422131146/

Twitter- https://twitter.com/ElizabethDucie

Pinterest – https://www.pinterest.co.uk/educie/

Instagram – https://www.instagram.com/elizabeth_ducie_author/

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Don’t miss the Indie Showcase on Thursday, when another fantastic author will feature. And, if that wasn’t enough, next Monday, I’m revealing my next release, a sci-fi adventure called The Lost Princess.

Have a great week,

Richard.

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