Ned Hayes's Blog, page 138
November 29, 2013
"What a blessing it is to love books as I love them;- to be able to converse with the dead, and to..."
- Thomas Babington Macaulay (via girllikeashadow)
New Novel Endorsement: Kathryn le Veque (Historical Bestseller)
Like Ken Follett or Bernard Cornwell, author Ned Hayes takes you into the Middle Ages so vividly that it’s difficult to put the story down. The novel is truly a work of artistic literature and one I highly recommend.
I was asked to read an ARC copy of this novel and review it, which I was happy to do. This isn’t your ordinary Medieval novel… SINFUL FOLK is one of the most original novels I have ever read. The storyline was unlike anything I’d ever seen before and to find out it was based on real events was truly amazing. The novel is about children dying in a mysterious fire back in the Middle Ages and how the villagers seek justice for the crime. The main protagonist, Mear, is such a heart breaking and heart wrenching character. She’s so relatable, seeking justice for her child and closure for the death. Her path is certainly not an easy one.
Brilliant — 5 out of 5 stars.
"April comes to us, with her showers sweet. I wake to the cries...
"April comes to us, with her showers sweet. I wake to the cries of little birds before the light comes across the heath. They wait all night with open eyes. Now, with the rain at dawn, their voices make melody.
I turn back the reveled cloth of gold on my bed and walk to gaze beyond my glazed casement window. In the plaintive voices of the wood fowl, I imagine my mother calling to me, her words echoing across the years.
Every night, I slip into the empty winter land of memory.”
— from the novel Sinful Folk
November 28, 2013
"Sound carries far here in the trees. Snow slides off a heavy...
"Sound carries far here in the trees. Snow slides off a heavy oak as some creature shuffles through the woods, and ancient branches snap. Out of the corner of one eye, I see the flash of colored feathers. It is a yellowhammer, black eyes flickering in a hedgerow, tiny breast plumped out in golden livery, streaked with colors rich and brown. It was calling in its winter song. Moments later, the bracken flutters and the slight shadow of the bird darts into the woods.”
from the novel SINFUL FOLK
PHOTO: thehideoutabove: Hobbit Tree - By Andrew Lockie
"Stars flicker above, points of bright ice in a dark...
"Stars flicker above, points of bright ice in a dark river. I pull a heavy sheepskin around my legs and stretch my feet toward the fire. Despite the cold, Liam plays his flute, the sound whistling through the night.
I think of that great wheel that Fortune turns. One day, a king rides out to battle, his forces following in splendid array. The next, that king lies in a ditch, cheek by jowl with peasant folk.
The wheel of Fortune turns one way and another, taking us to the heights or to the depths. That is the great wheel on which we all turn, tied to destinies that move up or down at the whim of God above.”
— from the novel Sinful Folk
SOURCE: magicalnaturetour — Girl by the Stars via reddit
November 26, 2013
"A raucous clamor outside the sanctuary as crows flock high on...
"A raucous clamor outside the sanctuary as crows flock high on the roof of the Monastery. At the sound of the bells, a black-feathered murder of them springs up into the open wind. The bells are chiming the hour of None, the Ninth Hour."
— from the novel Sinful Folk
“On most nights under the winter moon when we have made our...
“On most nights under the winter moon when we have made our camp, around us echo faint sounds of that other hidden world—the one of meadow and forest in the night. The melody of whip-poor-will, the cry of hunting owl, the scurrying rush of vole and chasing fox. It is as if some great razor scraped the life from this sheet of white-edged vellum, leaving only blank.”
November 25, 2013
"When you first start writing—and I think it’s true for a lot of beginning writers—you’re scared to..."
- Toni Morrison (via ilivetowriteandinspire)
"In the spring of our journey, the gods breathe lovely...
"In the spring of our journey, the gods breathe lovely inspiration across the land. As we leave my estate, I wait on the pinnacle of a hill. Tender shoots of green have come forth from every dark holt, spreading across each dire heath until the world is in blossom once again. A young bright sun runs with the Ram, high in the sky."
— from the novel Sinful Folk
