Sarah Barnard's Blog, page 18

Let NaNo commence…

Blimey, has it really been that long? Over a month since my last blog post.

[image error]It's November again and that means NaNo. It has done since 2005, this will be my seventh year of participation and, hopefully, my seventh year of winning. Hmm, should I include the mid-NaNo Camp that I took part in last July? It was still 50,000 words but without the buzz and feel of proper November NaNo. I still did it, but it wasn't the same.

But it would make seven NaNo events and seven wins so far, although only six are recorded on the main NaNo profile and site. I don't know, it's not "proper" NaNo really, is it? When I started NaNo, back in 2005, I had a writing buddy and we got together in person pretty much every week. We drank tea, baked cakes, tried to make our respective children play nicely together and we laughed and threw ideas around. It was hard work to complete that first NaNo, but it was fun too.

For the following few years that stayed, and NaNo has become a regular part of my year. I've added extra little challenges along the way. One year I decided that ALL names in my NaNo novel had to come from a particularly interesting spam folder. I'd had a flurry of spam emails and some of the names in them were lots of fun. Another year my extra challenge was to create a whole book within the 50,000 words. The whole story had to be finished so the final words I typed to win could be "The End.", which is so clichéd that I didn't actually type that, but I could have done.

Last year was different. My writing buddy and I have drifted and we don't get to see each other like we used to. We chat online most evenings and the support and cajoling we both need is still there, but it's not the same. I wonder if this year will be the last in a continuous run of winning NaNos, and I don't feel as sad about that as I thought I might.

My life is changing, the way I write is changing, and I'm not convinced that NaNo fits into all that any more.

But, this year I will do it again. Just as soon as I finish this blog post. Also, I thought I might try NaNo in reverse….. How many of us just scrape in those 1,667 words each day and fall behind only to need a final mad, frantic sprint for the finish, vomiting forth masses of words to collapse, exhausted, across that November 30th finish line? It's a rush, isn't it?

But for the last few years I've set myself a 2k words a day goal to start off, so I can get ahead and slow down when it gets tough, take time with my kids and do shopping. So, if I'm going to work like that I may as well do it all backwards and use those early days of writing like a maniac to actually work to a plan.

Backwards NaNo – where you only have to write a single word on the final day! Genius.

Would you like me to blog a bit each day?

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Autumn Equinox.

September 23rd is the day on which Autumn Equinox falls this year. It varies from year to year but always around Sept 22/23 or so. Technically it's the moment when, at a certain point at the equator, the centre of the sun can be observed directly, vertically, overhead.

For many people, those who follow a Pagan path in particular, Equinox is the day when light and dark, the day and the night, are in perfect balance.

This is also the day when events in the final book in the Portal series, Child of the Portal, begin. It's the date of the first major character death and the beginning of the end.

Today is Launch day for the Paperback edition of Child of the Portal. Keep reading for a chance to win a signed copy.

Excerpt.

[image error]Kate and Lily sat drinking tea in Lily's kitchen. Winter was starting to set in properly and there was frost on the ground most mornings.

"You've had your hair cut," Lily observed, feeling the need to break the silence that surrounded them in the kitchen.

"Yes. I had it done the other day," Kate confirmed, her hair still long but trimmed shorter than it had been, falling now only to rest on her shoulders instead of flowing down her back.

"It looks good." The compliment fell easily from Lily's lips. She smiled and it radiated the simple sincerity behind her few words.

"Thank you." Kate lifted her head from where she had been staring into the depths of her almost empty, but ever present, tea mug.

There is a box of 50 paperback copies on the way to me and as soon as they arrive I'll begin numbering them. They are the FIRST 50 ever printed and can be bought here.

To buy your limited, numbered copy – Check the box to buy and click "Add to cart" below.

Child of the Portal – Paperback, signed, numbered: First 50+cert. £12.49 (Postage added at checkout)


Price includes an Eco Libris Tree Planting sticker, and a tree will be planted to offset the paper used to print each copy sold. With thanks to Eco Libris for this service. Please put any message requests in the shopping cart comments. Thank you.

But, if you want a chance to win a random book from that box of 50, then you can enter the competition exclusively at the Independent Writers' Association.

What if, one day, someone decided to make films of the Portal series?

To enter the draw to win your own copy, you need to cast the main characters in a film of one of the books. Go to Storycasting.com and create a cast for one or more of the Portal series books. Then come back and leave a comment [On the IWA post, please, comments here won't be checked]  to tell me you did that, and what your user name is on Story Casting. Each character you cast will gain you one entry into the draw. Bonus entries if you cast more than one book – I'll count each character in EACH cast! So if you cast Kate, Lily and Sam in all 3 books that's 9 entries. The more you cast the more chances you have.

The draw will be made using a random selection on Sept 30th. Make sure we have a way of contacting you.

But there's only one paperback to be won. I might gift some ebooks as runner up prizes if the casts are good!

Oh, and if you don't win, or don't want a limited one….. Here are some links.

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Autumn Equinox.

The veil that exists between life and death is such a thin one, don't die with unspoken conversations going around in your head; have them and face the consequences if need be.

Love and spirit overrides and understands all, peace is key.

Tracey Smith.

Sept. 2010

With thanks to Tracey for the loan of her words.

This week contains Autumn Equinox, a time of balance, a time when the year turns to the dark, to rest. And the time the opens the final book in the Portal series, Child of the Portal.

Welcome to Sample Sunday.

[image error]It was the afternoon of Autumn Equinox, and although Susan was home from school after a short stomach bug, the others were out on a school trip, and Lily and Kate were talking quietly.

Kate shivered, suddenly cold down her back.

Lily paused halfway across Kate's kitchen, her head cocked to one side as if listening, her eyes lost focus.

"Shit. No!" Lily exclaimed as if she'd been struck and the mugs she held crashed to the floor, falling from numb fingers, shattering and spilling hot tea across the kitchen floor.

"Lily?" Kate was at her side as Lily started to shake.

"No, no, she wouldn't. Oh please no." Lily muttered incoherently stunned by something she couldn't bring herself to believe. Kate wrapped an arm round Lily and steered her towards the table as Susan burst in, carrying the carved dragon that Jack had given Sam for the single Christmas she had spent at home before leaving again to rule Lily's world beyond the Portals.

Susan held out the dragon to Lily, who stared through it in shock. "She needs you." Susan took Lily's hand and placed the dragon into her palm and wrapped unresisting fingers around it.

Lily stared down at the carving and images of Sam sitting at the same table flooded into her and she felt the spreading warmth of magic released from binding and the dragon began to glow. Lily clutched it tightly and raced to the lawn as she thoughtlessly flung open a Portal, using the magic surging through the disintegrating dragon and she shoved the fragments into her pocket as she ran. She didn't pause or change speed as she sped, simply trusting that she would get through.

"Kate, wait here, I'll be back. Sam, hang on. I'm coming!" she yelled. Once across the first threshold Lily slowed as the air grew thicker. She took the few steps needed to cross through and hoped she might be in time.

As she stepped through the Portal, Lily knew it was too late. She felt it as she crossed over and stepped onto the grass of the other world. She braced herself and looked around. Her eye was drawn to the grass beneath a tree to one side. Her breath caught in her throat and she almost bolted back to the still open Portal behind her, but her feet held fast to the spot.

Limited Edition, first print run, paperbacks – exclusively Here.

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Limited, Numbered, Signed…..

Child of the Portal, now released in Paperback. It's early, very early, but it's there. It's on Amazon, and other online bookseller sites too.

[image error]Third, and last, book in the main Portal series.

Susan's mother commits suicide which releases her magic as she gives up her life, and threatens to destroy the realm she has governed. Her closest advisor, the Naiad, has also vanished and her healing influence is sorely missed.

Susan's own magic is developing as she approaches her teenage years and it confuses her as she begins to grow into the strong, young woman her mother would have been proud of. Even her newly discovered grandmother, Lily, is pleased with her, even though she refuses to teach Susan how to safely use the magic.

With the Naiad gone, nobody in control, and no-one prepared to fill either role, the magical realm is in flux and chaos threatens, and the situation only worsens when Lily is lost and assumed to be dead. It seems that all will collapse unless Susan can find Lily and bring her back to restore the magical balance. But is Lily still alive, and can Susan find the salvation that is needed for the conflict to end and for peace to be restored?

Lily must be found, only Susan can find her and only the Naiad can save her. Lily must choose where and who she wants to be to everyone who demands that she be someone else. Susan must decide who she wants to grow into, and who she wishes to claim as her family.

This fantasy novel spans worlds, families and relationships and with two major character deaths, one birth, and plenty of drama you will want to join Susan as she finds out who she is and where she belongs.

Want to own one of the first 50 copies of Child of the Portal to be printed?

Your book will arrive complete with printed, signed certificate – numbered x/50. Your book will be signed, personally, and a short message can be included. Also included will be a tree planted within a managed, sustainable woodland in the UK to offset the carbon and energy used in printing these books. Books will be allocated in numerical order on a first come, first served basis and this offer is also available here on my main website (just click on where it says, "SARAH BARNARD" above this blog post)  – but Facebook fans get a bonus 10% off!

Check out the Facebook page, hit the like button and you'll automatically get that 10% off all of my books.

Sarah Barnard | 

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A King in a Court of Fools

I am happy to present this extremely interesting artifact from the archives of the National Unbelievable Foundation of Filmmaking (NUFF) that was recently uncovered stuck behind a towel dispenser when workmen were redoing the rest rooms at the South Park McDonalds — one of the original McDonalds from the 1950s. An expert at NUFF said that, originally hand-printed on composition notebook paper and written in the form of a TV script, this piece is a classic example of a 1950s Catholic school punishment assignment. There you have it! Enjoy!

 A King in a Court of Fools, the TV show

 

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INT. ST. CATHERINE'S SCHOOL – SISTER CARMELLA'S CLASSROOM – LATE AFTERNOON

Several students from Sister Jeanne Lorette's sixth grade class are in the front of a classroom of eighth graders, preparing for their weekly TV show. A semicircle of five wooden chairs has been positioned opposite one other chair. Two students are setting up the "camera" which is a large cardboard box on a stand with a funnel sticking out one end. One student has a makeshift clapboard and is pacing about, practicing saying "action." Another, obviously the director with a clipboard, is telling the others what to do while trying to arrange the chairs perfectly. The announcer is practicing her lines. The eighth graders are politely waiting for the show to begin, having given up their last period Latin class to allow the sixth graders to put on their show. Sister Carmella and Sister Jeanne Lorette are standing quietly in the back of the room.

SISTER JEANNE LORETTE

Let's begin.

CLAPPER

Action!

ANNOUNCER

Welcome to the Kids of St. Catherine's Show, the only weekly TV show produced, directed, and hosted by the sixth grade of St. Catherine's School.

A snicker from the back of the classroom draws a clearing of the throat by Sister Carmella, followed by silence.

ANNOUNCER

Our host today is the sixth grade, straight-A student Frankie Marx. Ladies and gentlemen, Frankie Marx!

Frankie Marx enters, dressed in sports jacket, tie, and black penny loafers with a shiny new dime in each. The two nuns begin to clap and the eighth graders join in halfhearted applause.

FRANKIE

Thank you, thank you, and welcome to the show. We appreciate your taking the time out of your otherwise boring and pointless day to listen to someone obviously your intellectual superior.

There is an awkward, dead silence, and then a single cough from the back. Sister Jeanne Lorette is shaking her head. Frankie clears his throat and adjusts his tie.

FRANKIE

As I was saying, today's guests are the Ryans, not by my choice, but they are here nonetheless. They live on Caswell Drive and all five of them are students here. How exciting is that? Without further ado, please welcome Mary, Kate, Sam, Harry, and Tom Ryan.

The director holds up an applause sign and the students begin to clap. The classroom door opens and the Ryans enter, led by Tom. The director points them to their seats. Frankie sits down across from them.

FRANKIE

Please introduce yourselves to the studio audience.

Each stands up in turn and says their full name. Tom is the last to speak. He faces the eighth graders.

TOM

I'm Tom Ryan. I was the one they blamed when someone closed all the windows and let a few thousand caterpillars loose in your room last week. They made me clean them up, including all the guts you guys squished on the floor, but I didn't do it and they could never prove it. Thanks a lot.

VOICE FROM THE BACK

Nice going, Ryan!

SISTER CARMELLA

Thank you for volunteering to clean all the desks after class today, Mr. Kelly.

Laughter rolls across the room. Tom sits down. Frankie gestures outlandishly to the Ryans and speaks.

FRANKIE

Tell us, what brings you on the show today?

TOM

They made us, Frankie. Remember? It's part of my punishment.

HARRY

Can I wave to Mom and Dad, Tommy?

KATE

It's just a pretend TV you little goof.

HARRY

Then why are we here, Katie?"

SAM

(whispering) The book, Harry, the book.

FRANKIE

Yes, the book. Specifically, this book, the one you call the "Book of Tom."

The director hands Frankie a composition notebook:

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TOM

Hey, give me that. That's mine.

He grabs it from Frankie.

FRANKIE

Yes, it's part of your punishment from Sister Jeanne Lorette, isn't it?

TOM

You better not have read any of it, Frankie. You see what it says there, right? I'll pound you. I mean it.

FRANKIE

Yes, I read your idle threats. Why would I bother to read your ridiculous homework?

SAM

You take that back, Frankie. Tom's journal isn't punishment and it isn't ridiculous. It's a story about us.

FRANKIE

Oh yes, the infamous Caswell Gang, with your silly hats, and your secret handshakes, and…

SISTER JEANNE LORETTE

Frankie… Tom… back to the script, please.

FRANKIE AND TOM IN UNISON

Yes, Sister.

FRANKIE

So, tell us about the story, Tom. What's so special about it?

TOM

That's for me to know and for you to find out.

MARY

Tell him about the Pink Lady, Tom.

TOM

Ixnay on the ady-Lay, Mary.

HARRY

But I like your story, Tommy.

TOM

Fine. You tell it.

Frankie turns to the studio audience and stands up.

FRANKIE

Ladies and Gentlemen. I now present Harry Ryan telling us the story of A King in a Court of Fools.

Harry stands up. Applause. Fade to the story of A King in a Court of Fools.

~oOo~

I hope you have enjoyed this little bit of humor about the newly published work, A King in a Court of Fools, by Larry Enright.

About the book: A King in a Court of Fools, originally published as a serial novel, is Larry Enright's second published work. It is humorous, nostalgic fiction about kids growing up in the 1950s and has been already enjoyed by ages ten through ninety-one. It is available in both eBook and paperback from Barnes & Noble and Amazon.com. Click for details to Purchase or sample A King in a Court of Fools.

 [image error]About the author: Larry Enright was born to Irish Catholic first-generation immigrants and raised in Pittsburgh. After college, he moved to the Philadelphia area where for the past 40 years he has filled his life with many careers including musician, teacher, programmer, researcher, and writer. He has written three other novels, including the best-selling Four Years from Home. Visit Larry Enright's site.

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Who's in charge?

With thanks to Nina Pelletier (found on Google+)

Today's post is a challenge, particularly to any readers who are also authors, but anyone can play if they want to.

Prompt: word limit 500. Choose one of your characters, and tell us a story that has them describe YOU as an author by using the characters voice to let us know a little bit about both of you.

My Adaptation: If you're not a writer and want to play then how about your favourite book/film character describing you as a fan of theirs? How would they feel about being watched by you?

I'll add mine in the comments….

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Sage – aged 18.

Sage is a character I've been developing for a while now. I keep coming back to her and I suspect she has some stories to share. But she's proved hard to pin down and write until now.

Now the final Portal series book is finished and released I think I may return to Sage and try to sort out her story. So, for Twitter's #samplesunday this week I've dug out some Sage for you.

Let me know what you think.

In this extract Sage is 18 years old and has just rolled a stolen car, almost killing herself in the process.

Sage found her hearing came back first.

"Calibrated?" The voice was male, reasonably deep but not a rumble, cultured and came from Sage's left.

A pause.

"Yes. Calibrated, compatible and interfacing adequately. I assume it'll settle in time." A female voice, from the same side.

Another pause and footsteps close by, pacing back and forth.

"How long until she regains full consciousness?" The man again.

A low chuckle.

"About now, judging by these readings."

"Out." Softer footsteps, a sound that could have been a door sliding open and then closed. "You can open your eyes, it's quite safe."

She eased her eyes open, blinking at the stickiness she felt gluing her eyelids shut. She reached a hand up to wipe her eyes to find both wrists pinned.

"Don't try to move, give yourself a moment." Sage's vision was blurred and she felt the panic rising as she couldn't see properly and she found herself unable to move. "Here." A cool, damp cloth wiped across her face, removing the stickiness from her eyes and slowly her sight cleared.

He was tall, wearing a sharply pressed uniform and a frown. She was short, stocky, somehow wrong… Sage stared, swallowed with a dry throat.

"You crashed your car." He said.

"It wasn't my car." Sage told him. "Who are you?" She flicked a glance to him but her eyes went back to staring at the woman. She wore simple, loose fitting clothes. Trousers and what looked like a tracksuit top. Her shoulders were ridiculously broad with a truncated body and limbs. She looked like she'd been squashed. With white hair and pale skin she could have been albino, but her eyes were so dark they were almost black. It was her hand that held the cloth. Sage couldn't tear her gaze away.

His face twitched into a smile. "Yes, the fiesta was stolen, crashed and found abandoned with no trace of whoever might have taken it. A young man named Zachary Hickman was found by the roadside and charged with possession of a tiny amount of cannabis, and with being drunk and disorderly. Although I struggle to see how being passed out can be classed disorderly. He was cautioned and released. My name is McKinnon and you shouldn't be here."

Sarah on Amazon UK

Sarah on Amazon US

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What do you see?

Most weeks, over at The Writing Network, there is a writers challenge. Sometimes they make me laugh, sometimes they make me run away…. But sometimes I find the words to give it a try.

There's a short video there this week, with the instruction: Take a moment and watch the above video. Then in the comments below, tell us what you see and if possible, the story behind it. This exercise works great both for freelance writers in the non fiction industry and fiction authors. Note anything in the video that would tell you about the action, setting, maybe give them a reason for the fight if you're so inclined.

This is my contribution.

The birds flew at each other, feathers ripped and scattering across the grass. No blood had been shed yet but it wouldn't be long.

The surrounding crowd cheered. "Go on, get him good!"

No-one was sure who had started it. They were always fighting, just as their fathers and grandfathers had hated and fought each other all through their school days. The older generation had somehow found an uneasy peace in adulthood but the memories of their teens ran deep. They still glared across the room at parent's evenings, but it was always the same one who looked away first.

But this was the children, again, looking like their fathers and behaving like them too. .

The birds fought viciously, pecking at eyes, tearing at one another.

"Go for his tail!" Someone yelled, clear above the cacophony of cheers, boos, groans.

"That will be quite enough of that!" A louder voice, behind the encircling crowd of children. He pushed through, they parted to let him pass. He'd earned their respect before most of them had even been born.

He raised his wand and the birds transformed into two battered, angry boys, pinned to the spot.

"Does anyone else want to join these two in my office?"

The crowd melted away, but not before he'd taken mental note of most of the faces.

"Albus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy, into my office, now. I will be informing your Heads of House and your parents."

"Sorry, Professor Longbottom. He started it, he called Lily a mudblood!" The shorter boy protested.

"Be quiet for now, you can both tell me in my office. Now, move. You know the way." He propelled the two boys ahead of him, muttering. "Underage transformation, fighting on school premises." He ticked off the list of misdemeanours on his fingers as they reached the herbology greenhouses where he kept his untidy office.

"Albus," he whispered, afterwards "get Scorpius to ask his father about the time a Professor here turned him into a ferret." He winked.

I do like these exercises, they make me think in different ways, challenge me to try different things.

I have tickets for the last Harry Potter film for Saturday. I think I'll probably cry.

My own books can be found on my Amazon Author page.

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We lost a fish…

Today I was meant to be mixing work with family time.

That really didn't work out.

Shall I tell you about my day?

We'd planned to get some fish for my lad's new tank. He's never had fish before and never been allowed a pet of any sort in his room.  So we've spent the past week setting up the tank, making sure the filter and pump are working, that the plants are happy and that the water is going to not kill any fish we put in.

Today was the day for fish.

Off we went to the pet shop – via the garden centre to look at pond liners. I want a small pond in the garden, just a tiny little one. No fish, just some plants and wildlife, if it chooses to move in. I'd love frogs, beetles and stuff like that. But I can't be messing with pumps, filters and digging up huge areas to lay cables and water to it.

Priced up the pond, then on to the pet shop where we spent ages discussing fish and what would be suitable for the new tank – which is only a small one, cold water not tropical. Lad wanted goldfish. No. They get too big. And not those, they're tropical….. So it went on until one of the staff got involved by telling him she was so pleased to hear someone really thinking about the right fish for the tank.

Lad was made up, and therefore so much more ready to listen to the suggestion of a few Danios. We took 4 home. We settled them in the tank. Then we watched a film.

Then there were 3 fish. They're fish! They can't escape, they can't get out, can't go anywhere… But there was no body. It wasn't hiding – we took ALL the plants and ornaments out, we stripped down the filter. Just 3 fish.

Now, these are tiny fish, look…

[image error]See, tiny little fish, just a couple of cm long. We found the one with the beautifully long fins, we found the silvery ones. But the fat one with stripes was missing. We hunted round the talk, on the cupboard it sits on and through the mess on the floor.  No fish. Total mystery.

We went back to the pet shop. We asked what could have happened. Yes we checked the filter and weed, no we don't have a cat. They gave us a couple of new fish to replace the missing one, and explained that Danios do sometimes jump……

We settled the new fish in, counted them several times. 5. Then we searched UNDER the cupboard.

Ah, dead fish. Must have jumped out through the small gap where the filter cable comes out.

I think the gap is suitably covered now, and we have the 5 fish swimming about happily.

However, I've got absolutely NO writing done. Not a single word. Unless I count this blog post.

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At Kate's for tea.

From, The Map and the Stone – a book written for younger readers, but enjoyed by all ages.

[image error]They pulled up behind a red VW polo with one blue door which was parked at the side of the road outside Cam and Tom's house. As Rhys had described, the house was huge compared to his own two bedroomed council house. There was a gravelled driveway to one side and a dark wood front door. Right in front of the door stood a large tub of spiky purple heathers. Rhys led her to the side and he knocked hard on the side door.

The door opened and Rhys stepped back. "Hi Mrs McPhearson, is Mrs Morgan at home please? And Cam and Tom?" he asked the dark haired woman who answered the door with a warm smile.

"Yes she's right here." She stepped back from the door. "Kate, your visitor is here, with his mum I think." She turned back to look at them both. "It's Lou isn't it? Come on in, there's fresh tea in the pot, can you stay for a cup?"

"Oh I wasn't going to intrude," Lou said. "I was only checking that Rhys had the invitation right."

"Nonsense, you come in and have a mug of tea with us, and it's not Mrs McPhearson, you can call me Lily and I'm pleased to meet you and Rhys." She waved them into the spacious kitchen with the large oak table covered in bits of paper, books and a laptop with cables stretched across to a socket in the wall. Three boys were already clustered around it chattering away about various local people they'd found who could be said to have a claim to fame.

"Hi Rhys, Hi Lou." A woman emerged from the middle of the boys. "Have we even been properly introduced? I'm Kate, Cam's mum. Do forgive Lily, she treats this place as if she lives here but she's right there's plenty of tea if you can stop long enough? You'd be very welcome and I think we can even rustle up some chocolate biscuits."

"Rhys!" Cam's dark head pushed up from the table and he waved him over. "We've found loads of people."

"Five," interrupted Tom and Andrew giggled, "five's not loads."

"We've found loads," Cam insisted, "so you can choose who you want and Mum's got this hooked up to the printer in there." He pointed over his shoulder into a dark space behind a door. "And she says we can print out what we need but don't go mad and waste all the paper or all her ink or she'll stop pocket money until we've paid for it."

Tempted by the warm welcome, and seeing how Rhys was welcomed into the crowd of boys, Lou agreed to stay for a while. She gratefully accepted the mug of tea offered to her and she followed Kate and Lily into a living room. It would have been a spacious room if it hadn't been filled with a long saggy green sofa and several piles of toys and books. One wall was dominated by bookshelves that rose from the floor all the way up to the ceiling and every shelf was loaded with books, magazines and games. Opposite the long sofa was a chimney breast with a wide fireplace that held a wood burning stove where a small fire blazed. The fire warmed the room as well as filling the house with a scent reminiscent of bonfires. There was a TV in one corner and beneath that was an X Box and its associated wires and cables in a spaghetti tangle and a pile of games beside that. Lou smiled sadly, she knew Rhys would love one but there was no chance for now. There was an armchair to one side but it didn't match the sofa and it never had, and a large bean bag was dumped in the middle of the floor.

"Don't mind the mess; it's almost impossible to keep it tidy with four kids here all the time." Kate waved Lou towards the sofa and she sat carefully at one end and found it more comfortable than it looked as she sipped slowly at tea that was scalding hot. Lily produced chocolate covered digestives and handed them round and somehow Lou felt very at home and safe within a few minutes.

The Map and the Stone (Amazon Kindle)

The Map and the Stone (Paperback)

The map and the Stone (All ebook formats)

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