Stuart Aken's Blog, page 254

Write What You Like?

English: Symbol of the "New York Society for the Suppression of Vice", advocating book-burning. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
There are two pieces of advice that career around the writing world and, it seems to me, often conflict with each other. We are advised to ‘write what you would wish to read’ and, by the same advisor, ‘write for your readers’. On the face of it, these two exhortations can either conflict or make perfect partners. It depends, I think, on your reason for writing.
For me, they often conflict. Perhaps that’s because I write from compulsion and as a way of expressing ideas, making the world aware of my thoughts and opinions on a multitude of subjects. I write because, deep within me, there’s a teacher, even a preacher, trying to get out. Of course, I have to make the best effort to disguise my message without burying it, otherwise my stories will come across as proselytising, and most readers have no wish to be lectured to. A resistance I fully understand and share.
So, for me, the idea that I can write what I want to read whilst, at the same time, writing for readers is fraught with difficulty. I love children and the young, but I no longer live in their world and have no wish to do so, but my favourite genre is one where it seems almost obligatory to write for young adults. I’m talking about fantasy, of course.
I’m currently editing the second volume of a huge epic fantasy, so far unpublished. My problem with the conflicting advice, then, is that I’m writing very much for an adult readership, not for callow youths. I have something to say about sex, nudity and the way in which organised religion has distorted the human view of these two natural aspects of life. It seems to me that I can’t, with any honesty, tackle these themes in a book made suitable for developing minds. Not, that is, unless I’m prepared to cause offence to a large part of the population.
Many adults, especially of a religious persuasion, consider discussion of sex, reference to nudity, topics unsuitable for young minds. If I’m to develop stories that do justice to the subjects, I need the freedom to be truthful in my depiction, I need, under certain circumstances, the freedom to show events, refer to actions, that might be considered obscene by many readers.  Such freedom wouldn’t sit easily with most of the religious community. Though I do note that most erotic literature is produced by the US, a country with the highest number of Christian extremists. (but that’s a matter for another time).
My dilemma, therefore, if I stick to the advice I read, is whether to bowdlerise my story or whether to continue to make my tale open and honest, as I’ve always done in the past. Except, it isn’t a dilemma for me. I will, as I always have, take the route to honesty and if that reduces my readership, offends some potential readers, even loses me followers and virtual friends, so be it. Because, for me, honesty is what matters most. I’ll continue to write the trilogy for adults but place a warning there to let parents know that, whilst the content is not intended to be erotic, it does have many references to sex and nudity. That’s my choice as a writer. Such honesty of purpose is essential to me as an artist.
At the start of this piece, I suggested there were circumstances in which both pieces of advice are apposite. If you write for money, if you see your work as a product to be sold like cans of beans, then the advice to write for your audience will naturally coincide with that to write what you would like to read. Since your driving motivation will be entirely to do with numbers and with sales. Naturally, as a would-be best-seller writer, you will gravitate toward the subjects, style and language that will gain you maximum readership. If you’re writing erotica, you can indulge in any form of sexual distortion with impunity, knowing your readers will be eager to pursue their given proclivities. If you write crime, you can choose the strand that allows as much gore as you wish to portray. And if you write fantasy, you can include the necessary elves, dragons, magicians and, apparently much-lauded thieves, without ever worrying such things might be considered bad influences on young minds emerging into the adult world.
The choice is yours. To write for maximum readership. Or to write what you would like to read. If you write to honestly suit your own tastes, the former instruction is unlikely to apply. But if you write specifically as a way to turn out the next block-buster, you will be obliged to make sure that your writing conforms to certain rules and remains confined within specific boundaries. I repeat; the choice is yours.
I’ve made mine. Have you made yours?

The American Election: a View From Over the Pond.

IN MY VIEW


Why should I care what happens in the USA Presidential election? It’s a sad fact of life that the USA has a hugely inflated influence in the world. US foreign policy impacts far more deeply, far more widely than the nation deserves, with its inward obsession. And that’s the problem: US policies, regarding the world as a whole, are entirely based on what’s best for the US, rather than what’s best for the world.
Obama at least has an awareness and an interest in what happens beyond the shores of his own continent. I fear not only for the women and the poor of America, but for the world as a whole if Romney succeeds in gaining the post of the most powerful man in the world.
Where Obama displays concern for the poor and disadvantaged, and tries his best, against strong opposition from the right, to do what he can for them, Romney has shown himself indifferent or even worse in his attitude to society’s victims. The wealthy have stripped the poor of their resources and rights for centuries and Romney belongs to that class of people who hold the view that the poor deserve to be poor. He has no conception of the realities of life for those without personal wealth. His attitude to women is appalling: his many statements demonstrate that he has no interest in the views of women and simply wants them to remain silent and under the control of men. This cowardly stance is fed, of course, by his religious background, which, in common with the backward paternalistic culture of many third world countries, considers women as second class citizens or, worse, as no more than goods and chattels. It staggers me that any woman could even consider voting for this man who appears to reside in a Hollywood version of the stone age, where men are depicted as superior beings and women are no more than decorative slaves expected to pander to male whims and fancies. Of course, it’s probable that such women have been brain-washed, often via extreme forms of religion, into not only accepting their subservient role but into evangelising this Neanderthal philosophy.
I hope, without any expectation of satisfaction, that the women and the poor of America will rise up and demand their rights by voting for Obama, kicking the right wing in the teeth for their lack of compassion and their inhumanity regarding all underdogs. There are just two days to go before the momentous decision is made. I appeal to all women, disadvantaged citizens, and right-thinking folk of the wonderful land of America to go out and vote for President Obama. The rest of the world will applaud you if you do. If you wonder how I know this, follow this link.

Free Horror; This Time With Links. Sorry

Around Halloween, I made my new horror story, Heir to Death's Folly free for a couple of days. A friend pointed out to me that there were no links in the post to lead to where it might be obtained. That was an oversight, but I didn't have an opportunity to correct it before the end of the KDP promotion period. So, I'm offering it again as a free book, for one day only. You can get it without cost from now (12:00 PST 4 November 12 until Midnight tonight - this translates to 07:00 Sunday to 07:00 Monday 5 November in UK. For other time zones, I'm afraid you'll have to work it out for yourself).

So, here are the links:
Amazon UK
Amazon USA

It's only available in the Kindle ebook format at present, as I decided I'd try out the Kindle Direct Publishing route for this one, to see whether it really is the aid to authors that Amazon claim.


Don't have a Kindle, but want to read it? You can download free software from Amazon to read Kindle books on your PC, laptop, iPad, iPhone, Android phone, tablet or Mac; use this link from the UK  and, for USA readers, this link , where you can also add it to your browser, Windows Phone 7, Blackberry, and Windows 8 devices.
My apologies to all those who tried this when the links weren't provided. Some of you, quite a lot, actually, managed to do the deed anyway. But I've done this to make it as easy as possible for my loyal readers to obtain the book without cost.
So far, no reviews. I know a lot of Kindle users download books when they're free and don't get around to reading them until later. I'd obviously appreciate the feedback of reviews whenever anyone feels they have the time. That way, new readers will have an idea of what they're buying when the book goes on sale at its normal price of $2.99 or £1.92. My thanks to those who do this.

Read Breaking Faith, Free: Chapter 42

Reviews of Breaking Faith, under the 'My Books' tab, might convince you to try this book, unless, of course, you’re already doing so.
If so, enjoy the ride.
I posted Chapter 1 on 13 January. Subsequent chapters have appeared each Friday, and will continue to be posted until all 50 have featured here. You can find those already posted via the archive; just search by chapter number. If you missed the start, you’ll find it here: http://stuartaken.blogspot.com/2012/01/read-free-my-novel-here.html
Read, enjoy, invite your friends along. As an author, I want people to read my writing, simple as that.
Chapter 42
Tuesday 7th September
‘I don’t know why you’re so surprised, Faith, you know I witnessed the Will.’‘I still don’t see how you knew, unless Dad told you.’‘Of course David gave me an idea of what you’d be worth. He knew you’d be better off than me and I’ve a shrewd idea he expected that to have a significant, and adverse, affect on our relationship.’‘Why didn’t you tell me?’‘That I was witnessing your father’s Last Will and Testament? Hardly helpful when you were still trying to fool yourself that he would…’‘Why didn’t you tell me how much I would inherit?’‘David asked me not to.’She gave me one of her soft looks and I knew I had her on my side again, however briefly. ‘At the moment, my major concern is whether you’ll stay at Longhouse …as my Girl Friday and printer, until I can find someone else?’‘You want me to leave?’‘Of course I don’t. But I’ve no doubt you’ll want to be on your way.’She looked as if I’d made the most idiotic suggestion possible.‘Don’t you?’For a while, she was silent.‘I want that holiday, Leigh. I want to go as soon as possible, and I want to go alone.’I allowed my disappointment to show. ‘I’d hoped you’d want me along.’‘Under different circumstances, I would. Heaven knows, I don’t want to leave you alone with Netta any more than I have to. But I need time and space to understand myself and work out who and what I am and what I want to do with my life. And I can do that only on my own.’‘Two heads are better than one.’‘Dad made his decisions alone. I’ll do the same. Don’t waste your breath trying to change my mind; I don’t want us to fall out over this. When can I go?’She had enough money to make her totally independent and yet she was asking my permission to go on holiday. I knew when I was beaten. ‘As soon as the travel agent can fix it, I suppose.’She reached up and kissed me, passing that magic to me so that her withdrawal left me feeling as though some part of my being remained with her. ‘I’ll go into town now. I need to get away, Leigh, as soon as possible.’I watched her leave and wondered how soon I would be saying goodbye to her for good. That prospect wrenched my insides and tore at my heart in a way that should have warned me. Netta approached and I wondered how much of what had passed she’d observed. Her manner was cautionary as she reached up to embrace me and I found myself not just unwilling to respond to her, but almost incapable. She took my limp arm and placed my hand on her warm, round bottom but I felt only flesh and was suddenly certain I wanted none of it, none of her. ‘Sorry, Netta, I’m busy.’ I left her with her mouth open and went into the studio to work, if I could.‘Bastard!’I heard her slam out of the house a few moments later and knew she would make me pay for my act of rejection later. I wondered, however, whether I cared.They returned almost together, Netta, sooner than was usual and in softened mood, ready to give me another chance, and Faith bursting with barely suppressed nervousness. She hadn’t shed a tear since the funeral, perhaps not even since her father’s death. Her tension had diminished during our picnic but it had been smothered rather than removed and had resurfaced immediately on our return. Whatever had passed at the solicitor’s office, in spite of the bequest, had done little to ease it. She might break down completely if she couldn’t find a way to express her grief.Netta claimed me as first arrival and I fondled her and promised I’d make things up to her later. She seemed uncharacteristically ready to accept and I wondered how much she understood of my turmoil. I certainly knew I’d escaped lightly.Faith burst in in a conflict of moods. ‘I’ve booked my holiday. I’m going on Saturday. A woman spat at me in the street and called me a whoring cow. It’s in the papers. Heacham’s trial starts a week on Monday. I’m going to Scotland. An island. It’s a croft and there’ll be no one for miles. She said I was a colluding whore. They were all staring.’‘They’ll need you for the trial, Faith. I don’t think you can go now.’She barely glanced at me. ‘I’ve written it down. No one’s said I have to. You won’t be able to reach me. I’m going on Saturday.’I wondered why the official notification hadn’t already come. Faith was the most obvious material witness to the rapes, although I was certain she’d been completely unaware of what the bastard was doing. I wondered if I should make that clear again, but her manner and her desperation to get away made me cautious about raising a disagreement I hoped had been settled between us.That she was very near to breaking was obvious in her strange manner of speech and the visible tension in the way she held herself. It seemed as likely as not that a good break from the area and from Netta and I would help her come to terms with all that had happened.‘Is Heacham still in custody?’I waved my hand at Netta to silence her but she must know.‘Well, is he?’‘No, Netta. They let him out a short while after he attacked you. On bail. Though God knows why. Apparently, he’s considered no threat to anyone else.’‘Take me to see him.’I stared at her. Faith, poring over a road atlas, seemed to be taking no notice. I moved closer so I might identify at least the area she was planning to visit. ‘When did you buy that?’ I wasn’t interested, merely wanting the opportunity to see what part of the country she was studying.‘I won it on the driving course.’She had never said. I wondered what other secrets, small and large, were locked up in her. I wanted to ask but Netta was insistent and I had to turn my attention to her.‘Take me, Leigh. Or I’ll go alone.’Unlikely as it seemed, I believed her threat. ‘Why? What’s he to you?’‘Hope’s my half sister. I owe her. Take me, Leigh. Now.’I shrugged. ‘We’ll be back later, Faith.’‘If you’re going to do him any violence, either of you, make it painful and humiliating and tell him I’d like to see the foul, hypocritical, bastard dead; painfully, lingeringly dead!’Her venom shocked me but I nodded and followed Netta, almost demure in her summer dress, to the car.He was alone in the cottage, his vest and trousers stinking with sweat and the floor strewn with rubbish. Unshaven, unkempt, dirty and dishevelled, he didn’t want us in the cottage. But Netta made it clear she wouldn’t be refused and I just barged my way in with her in close pursuit.‘Why did you beat me, Heacham?’No reply.‘Answer Netta’s questions, Heacham. I’m in no mood for mercy and I’ve shown you once what I can do.’He sulked and glared as he sat in the armchair amongst his filth. I wanted it over with as soon as possible so I took a step toward him and he put up his hand in self-defence.‘All right. I’ll not have my daughter parading naked in public, showing her all to the world and making a laughing stock of me. Whore!’‘I’m not your daughter. Neither is Faith. The only child you fathered is that damaged little girl you repeatedly raped.’‘I never…’‘Oh, shut it, Heacham! Leigh caught you with your prick in the poor helpless baby and you admitted you’d been fucking her for years! I’d have your filthy balls off only you’re not worth it.‘Prison’s where you’re going, Heacham, and they don’t like men, if that’s what you are, who rape helpless kids. They won’t care about your balls. They’ll burn and crush them, tear them off you. And the prison guards won’t even hear your screams. Every day one of the perverts will bugger you. They’ll fuck you till your arse bleeds and you scream in agony and still no one will do anything to help you because they’ll all know you deserve it.‘Your life inside’ll be a living hell. When you’ve been beaten and castrated and raped until your arse is a pulp of blood and shit, they might give you solitary, for your own protection. Of course, you might be dead by then, if you’re lucky. I thought you’d like to know what you’re going to, that’s all.’ She marched over and spat into his terrified face. As he wiped it clear, she raised a leg and, true to form, he was so taken by the sight of what she revealed, he failed to understand her purpose. Her stiletto heel drove hard into his groin and he screamed. Removing her foot, she slapped him several times, her hands making vicious contact with his unprotected face.I let her take her revenge until he tried to protect himself. Then I stepped in, pulled him to his feet by his greasy hair and planted a single straight right that made the satisfactory crunch of breaking bone as my fist connected with his nose, already broken after my previous attack. He reeled back into the chair.‘That’s for Faith and all the years of childhood and joy you denied her. That sweet innocent girl hates you absolutely and comprehensively and wishes you a long and painful death, by the way. Such has been the outcome of your worthless life. Personally, I think you’ve got off lightly. What I’d like to do to you is worse than your wildest nightmares, Heacham.’ Netta gave him one last slapping before she backed away. ‘Why not just do yourself in and put the rest of us out of your misery.’In the car, I looked at Netta with renewed respect. ‘How did you know all that about prison?’‘One of my men friends has been inside.’I almost made a joke in response but managed to refrain.Faith was nowhere to be seen when we returned and Ma had gone home after preparing our evening meal of chicken salad.‘Christ, that’s made me randy!’ Netta was panting with some strange passion.I was seething with unspent rage but I let her undress me in the sitting room and watched her strip her own sweet body before we gave ourselves to lust on the floor.Faith was standing in the doorway when we finished. She stared at us with such contempt I felt compelled to move out of her sight, but the only way from the room was through the doorway she blocked. ‘You really are the most pathetic creatures, aren’t you?’I felt so small.She failed to join us for dinner and we ate in subdued silence without looking at each other.The next day she worked silently in the office and the darkroom and ignored me unless I asked her a direct question. I felt diminished in her eyes and wanted to apologise and make an explanation, but there was none.The weather was no help; oppressive and hot, with a sky clear by day and clouded by night so that there was no relief from the build up of heat.On Friday night, I’d intended a small celebration to mark Faith’s departure for holiday; a private party to send her on her way with our best wishes. But she was absent again from dinner and remained in her room.Netta and I eventually went to bed, having consumed the wine I’d opened for the parting, Netta drinking the lion’s share. I wasn’t in the mood for sex and, to my surprise, she seemed unconcerned by my indifference, perhaps too drunk to care. I suspect she felt that once Faith had gone, she’d be free to have her way with me again as often as she pleased.In the early hours, thunder woke me and I lay awake listening to Netta snoring softly beside me, undisturbed by the violent storm. Booms and rolls and roars echoed from the fells as lightning strobed across the open window. Soon her breathing was drowned by torrential rain that poured over the gutters and pelted on the tiles above and against the glass of the window I had to shut.From within the house I heard the sound of something falling, followed by a heartrending cry of utter desolation.
###
If you're impatient for the next chapter, you can buy the book in paperback or ebook format for whatever ereader you use, just click on the cover picture or visit ‘My Books’. If you do, I’d appreciate a review, posted wherever possible - Amazon, Goodreads, Smashwords, or any other bookish site. Reviews get indie published books noticed, you see.
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Related articles Read Breaking Faith, Free: Chapter 41 Read Breaking Faith, Free: Chapter 40 Read Breaking Faith, Free: Chapter 39 Read Breaking Faith, Free: Chapter 38

Useful Tips on Writing Good English (Especially for Students)

Testtakingstudent (Photo credit: Wikipedia)I was doing some research for my daughter, who is at university, and, by pure chance, came across this website, which, although intended for university students, is open to the public. If you've ever had questions relating to correct English usage, this is a really useful tool, with easy to follow guides on a number of technical, grammatical and associated issues. Certain worth a visit.
http://www2.hull.ac.uk/student/studyadvice/studyskillsresources/studyguides.aspx

Good luck with your writing.
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What to Do on Those Days the Brain Refuses to Function?

Lobes of the brain, color-coded. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I suspect it happens to us all from time to time: we have a day when the brain just refuses to do what is required of it. Today has been such a day for me. Why? That’s easy. I’m suffering some sort of stomach bug that has meant I’ve needed to be close to the bathroom all day. I managed a swift walk around the block for fresh air and exercise but that’s all. Now, I’ve had this sort of event before (as a recovering ME sufferer, my immune system isn’t what it was and I’m a bit vulnerable to those idiots at my day job who fail to wash their hands after a visit to the loo: such thoughtful folk, eh?)
Generally, the effect is to deaden the creative and constructive part of my brain so that everything becomes a real effort; like trying to think clearly through clouded water. And, generally, my response to the physical results of such infection is to starve myself for 24 hours, consuming only apple juice warmed and sweetened – a trick I learned from a doctor years ago, which seems to work. But, of course, the energy levels suffer as a result and anything that demands extra effort is just a little too much.
So, what to do with the time? I suppose I could just give in and rest for the day. Read, perhaps? But I’ve been busy recently, devising and publishing a new book. And that means the emails have piled up. So, I spent a good part of the day dealing with those. Most of them are relatively undemanding, so not too difficult to make progress through the numbers and clear the decks for tomorrow, when, hopefully, I’ll be able to do some writing. I also had the basic themes of a review worked out in my head, so I was able to put that together and stick on the blog and Goodreads.
And that’s really what this piece is about. How to make the best of whatever situation you find yourself in. I could’ve given up and spent the day in bed. But what would that have achieved? I’d have been bored to tears and all those emails would still have been waiting for me in the morning to disrupt my return to normality.
I’m very lucky; years of writing have made it relatively easy for me to respond in plain language to messages. As long as I don’t have to get too creative when I’m in this state, I can generally manage to string some words together. But I couldn’t do anything that required the imagination and sheer concentration necessary for making a story. So, I do what I can do and hope to make the time that follows the incident more productive as a result.
I’m curious about how others deal with this sort of brain dulling. How do you cope? What do you do? Let’s share our experiences in the hope someone else may pick up a tip to deal with a similar situation when it creeps up on them.
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Free Until the Witching Hour

Heir to Death’s Folly, a new book available exclusively as a Kindle ebook, is free until midnight tonight (that’s PST. For UK readers, you have until 07:00 Thursday), so regular visitors have a chance to obtain it without cost. If you take advantage of the offer, I’d appreciate a review, but you’re under no obligation, of course.
No Kindle, but want to read it? Download free software from Amazon to read Kindle books on your PC, laptop, iPad, iPhone, Android phone, tablet or Mac; use this link from the UK http://amzn.to/Uaqusr  and, for USA readers, this link http://amzn.to/UaqUiu , where you can also add it to your browser, Windows Phone 7, Blackberry, and Windows 8 devices.
The story? I won’t give anything away, but a young woman is in peril…This is the short blurb: At Kasim's insistence, Julie takes him to visit her Aunt Agatha. Desperate for money, he intends to hasten Agatha's death so Julie will inherit her fortune sooner. But their search for the legendary family treasure leads them into dangers they could never have envisaged. Will Julie escape the fate that awaits her in the ancient tower rumoured to house the hoard?
 Woooo! Scary, eh?  Enjoy your goosebumps!
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Shrivings, by Peter Shaffer, Reviewed.

An unusual piece, this: a published play that appears never to have been performed in the form presented ( I think it’s available only as part of a 3 play anthology including, Equus and Five Finger Exercise). But the author wanted this piece out there, even if it wasn’t performed. And I can see why.
This is a device to project certain philosophical views and beliefs rather than a piece of true drama, though it does contain the usual elements of the stage play. As is commonly the case with Shaffer, the setting and the stage directions are precise, leaving no doubt about the intended platform or the actors’ movements and disposition. In this sense, the writer acts much like a director in determining the staging of his work.
The characters, three men and a young woman, are all exquisitely penned and their interactions jump from the page with credible drama. Set around the end of the 1960s and much associated with the peace movements of the time, the play explores what it means to be a pacifist in a real sense. Using the conflicts and relationships that spring from family, friendship, sex, love and hero-worship, Shaffer puts his players through emotional hell in a way that illuminates the variety and depth of the human spirit. Several of the scenes are so powerful they will stay with me for a long time. What could so easily have descended into banal bickering, is elevated to considered and emotionally charged discussion that resounds with truth and insight. This is not a play to enjoy; in fact, I have my doubts about whether it would be possible to perform it successfully before a theatre audience because of the detail and depth of meaning that dwells within many of the passages. But, as a reading of the text, it works very well and serves to educate in an entertaining manner, whilst throwing some light on the motives of some of those involved in the early peace movements.
It’s a very human play. There is real love behind the depiction of the characters, allowing the reader to empathise with all four, whilst seeing their weaknesses. Something to give cause for thought to both pacifists and warmongers, I recommend this deeply affecting piece of writing to all readers who enjoy challenges to their belief systems, philosophy and lifestyle. Try it; I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.
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Halloween Ebook, Free for 2 Days.

Heir to Death’s Folly, available exclusively as a Kindle ebook at present, is published under the KDP flag. And I’m giving it away free for two days, so that my regular readers can have it at no cost, to celebrate Halloween. Should you take advantage of this offer, I’d appreciate a review, but you’re under no obligation, of course. I just want you to enjoy the story and feel the terror.
For those who don’t own a Kindle, but want to read it in the offer period, or later (when, by the way, it will cost you $2.99 or £1.86), you can download free software from Amazon so you can read Kindle books on your PC, laptop, iPad, iPhone, Android phone, tablet or Mac, just follow this link if you’re in the UK http://amzn.to/Uaqusrand click on the appropriate link on the site. For USA readers, follow this link http://amzn.to/UaqUiu  and you can add other devices to the list as follows: your browser, Windows Phone 7, Blackberry, and Windows 8 devices.
What’s the story about? Well, I won’t give too much away, but a young woman is being taken into danger…The short blurb is as follows: At Kasim's insistence, Julie takes him to visit her Aunt Agatha. Desperate for money, he intends to hasten Agatha's death so Julie will inherit her fortune sooner. But their search for the legendary family treasure leads them into dangers they could never have envisaged. Will Julie escape the fate that awaits her in the ancient tower rumoured to house the hoard?
And the period of the free offer? From now, PST (Monday), to midnight PST on 31 October (07:00 Tuesday to 07:00 Thursday, here in UK). So, get your copy sooner rather than later, or you may miss out. Of course, if you wait, I earn a bit of cash for my work and that’s great. But, either way, I’m happy as long as I have readers. Enjoy.
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New Book Published for Halloween

I’ve a new book out for the coming holiday. It’s a story of around 10,000 words in the Gothic horror tradition, so should get those goosebumps rising.
Heir to Death’s Folly is available exclusively as a Kindle ebook at present, under the KDP flag. And it’s going to be free for a couple of days, so that my regular visitors have a chance to obtain it without cost. Of course, if you take advantage of this offer, I’d appreciate a review, but don’t feel under any obligation to write one.
If you don’t have a Kindle, but want to read it in the free period, or later, you can download free software from Amazon to allow you to read Kindle books on your PC, laptop, iPad, iPhone, Android phone, tablet or Mac, just follow this link from the UK http://amzn.to/Uaqusrand click on the appropriate link on the site. For USA readers, follow this link http://amzn.to/UaqUiu  and you can add other devices to that list as follows: your browser, Windows Phone 7, Blackberry, and Windows 8 devices.
So what’s the story about? Well, I don’t want to give too much away, but a young woman is in danger…The short blurb is as follows: At Kasim's insistence, Julie takes him to visit her Aunt Agatha. Desperate for money, he intends to hasten Agatha's death so Julie will inherit her fortune sooner. But their search for the legendary family treasure leads them into dangers they could never have envisaged. Will Julie escape the fate that awaits her in the ancient tower rumoured to house the hoard?
And, what’s the timetable for the free offer? From midnight PST tonight (Monday) to midnight PST on 31 October (which is 07:00 Tuesday to 07:00 Thursday, here in UK). So don’t delay, get your copy sooner rather than later, or you may miss out.