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E Story for the #atozchallenge

2016AtoZChallenge

Emperor Edward called for his tailor, who immediately stopped what he was doing and rushed to the Emperor’s throne, dropping to the floor before the great man.

“Eating again?” said Edward.

Embarrassed, the tailor wiped the crumbs from his mouth. “Excellency, I only took a quick bite in between sewing.”

“Elevate.” Emotions became uncontrollable as Edward watched the man stand up. Envy turned to rage as he realised the man’s stomach was even larger than his own. Evidently, I am paying him too much and working him too little, he thought.

“Endeavour to concentrate,” said Edward, who always began his sentences with the letter E to emphasise his importance, and expected everyone else to do the same. “Eminent nudists have invited exalted Emperor Edward to their nudist colony.”

Expecting more, the tailor bowed his head.

“Essential as it is for me to attend, I cannot possibly go without clothes on. Even though this is true, I have no wish to offend such eminent nudists. Ergo, I require clothes made of cloth that is so fine, it can only be seen by people who are clever enough to dress at all times.”

Embarrassment swelled in the poor tailor. “Excellency,” he muttered,
that is impossible.”

Enraged that this servant who had surpassed him in size was also being so disrespectful, Emperor Edward shouted, “Extermination shall be your punishment for such insubordination.”

Edward sent out couriers to find a tailor who could supply him with the garments he required. Eventually, because everyone else was too afraid to come before the mighty emperor, two small and wily tailors were brought to the great man himself. Edward liked the look of their thin frames.

“Every person who fails to adhere to my commands is exterminated,” said Edward.

“Every command from the Esteemed Emperor will be adhered to explicitly,” they replied.

“Erstwhile tailor was exterminated,” said Edward.

Each day the men assured the Emperor that they were hard at work on the clothes.

Entering into the Emperor’s presence one day, they eagerly handed the Emperor the clothes, which he examined. “Embroidery magnificent,” he said. “Examination passed with flying colours.”

Excitement showed on the tailors’ faces.

“Ensured, are you, the nudists won’t be able to see the clothes?”

“Emphatically so,” the tailors replied.

Emperor Edward paid them for their work and they left.

Every eye of the large crowd of nudists was on the Emperor as he made his entrance into their colony. Exaltation in the form of applause was loud, making the Emperor feel proud. Even so, one little boy’s voice was heard above all the others. “Emperor Edward is wearing clothes!”
Man or King on Throne with Kneeling Man (Supplicant)

Links to previous A-Z stories:

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

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Books

D Story for the #atozchallenge

2016AtoZChallenge

“Don’t want.”

Darren’s mother explained. “‘Don’t want’ means he doesn’t want to talk about school.”

Did the little boy not feel proud to have started at big school? Did he experience difficulties at school? Did I make a huge mistake by bringing up the topic?

Determined to make amends, I searched for a topic the boy would want to discuss.

“Do you like to play with toys?”

Dark eyes lit up.

“Do you have a special toy?”

“Dinosaur,” Darren answered without hesitation.

“Does the dinosaur do something?”

“Dinosaur big.” Daren raised his hand and looked up at it, smiling. “Dinosaur walk.”

“Does the dinosaur talk?”

“Don’t want.”

“Darren didn’t like the talking,” Darren’s mother explained, “so we turned it off.”

Disconcerted, I wondered what sort of child wouldn’t like a talking toy. “Do your friends like the dinosaur?”

“Don’t want.”

Darren’s mother shook her head. Did he not want to talk about his friends or did he not have any? Dressed in my psychologist’s hat, I began to suspect the latter. Dreading another ‘Don’t want,’ however, I preferred not to ask. Disparate thoughts led me to the common denominator. Difference. Difference caused unusual likes and dislikes. Difference caused other children to spurn him. Difference caused problems at school leading to unhappiness.

Donning my little girl’s hat, I warmed to this child.

 
WonderCon 2012 - Wash's toy dinosaurs from Firefly

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Books

C Story for the #atozchallenge

2016AtoZChallenge

Carly entered the house with some trepidation, finding herself in the entrance hall. Century-old furnishings greeted her. Carly took out her pencil and notebook to record everything. “Corner shelf for telephone, neatly recorded numbers in phone book beside. Colossal, printed phone book on shelf below. Cupboard – dark wood. Carpet fraying on stairs. Cold, cruelly so. Central heating apparently not installed (no radiator). Ceiling paintwork cracking, wallpaper peeling.”

Curious accounts had reached her from the neighbours. Common factors between them were few. Contrasts abounded in all but one word. Crackling was a sound all the interviewees reported hearing.

Closing the notebook, Carly stopped still and listened. Crackling – yes, she heard it, too. Concentrating on the source of the sound, she edged towards a closed door and put her ear to the edge of the door. “Coming from here,” she breathed. Clasping the large round knob with one hand, she turned it, one degree at a time. “Careful.” Coming to the end of the knob’s cycle, Carly gave the door a gentle push and entered the room, her senses on high alert.

Chairs, sofa, sideboard, table all from a previous era. Carvings decorating them – elaborate.

“Check for humans.” Calmness and confidence returned once Carly had determined no beings, alive or dead, were present in the room. Crackling nevertheless came to her ears and drew her eyes to the fire place. Coal, black and ball-shaped with red tips, filled the grate, while yellow flames danced around. Could the old man really be somewhere in this house?

Carly returned to the staircase, determined to solve the mystery. Creeping upstairs so as not to disturb anyone, she took an age to reach the upper floor. Creaking of the floor boards was unavoidable, though, and Carly looked up expecting to see an angry old man glaring at her from above.

Crash went the glass vase as it fell from the window sill at the bend of the staircase. Cursing her clumsiness, Carly looked up again. Change in the view came there none. Curious.

Closest to the top of the stairs, a door stood ajar, almost beckoning her in. Carly poked her head round to spy a man on the bed, eyes closed, face wrinkled, hair white. Completely still and probably the source of the unpleasant smell wafting to her, the man repelled her, but she knew what she had to do. Coming close to the bed, she held the hand and felt for a pulse. “Can’t,” she whispered, “but the fire…”

Charging for the door, Carly ran down the stairs, barely avoiding bits of broken glass, and threw open the door of the room she’d been in just before. Confusion reigned. Chairs, sofa, sideboard, table all the same as before, but…. Could she have imagined the fire? Crackling no longer assailed her. Coal no longer burned in the grate, nor did any smell of burning reach her.

Crazy, was she? Could there be any other explanation?

Clarity cleared the fog in one sense only as Carly made a decision. Comprehensive though her report would be, a roaring fire would not feature in it.
Fire (3678085977)

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Reviews

Free to Be Tegan: Book Review

FreeToBeTegan-MaryGrand-ResizedI don’t often post my book reviews on this blog, but this is a special book.

I was drawn to this novel before I’d read a word of it, because of the plot and its similarity to my novel, Neither Here Nor There. I was aware that this might lead to disappointment with the actual novel, but after reading the online preview I doubted that would happen. I wasn’t disappointed at all.

As I read it, I thought about the similarities between Tegan and my main character, Esty. I also considered the differences. But those thoughts belong in a different post. For now, I want to discuss Free to Be Tegan.

I was with Tegan all the way, silently encouraging her to find the right path for herself and to learn to recognise lies, wherever they come from. From the very beginning, where she’s among people she has grown up with but is now shunned by; to the outside world where she’s all alone; to people who care for her but don’t understand her and others who want to use her to further their own agendas; to the end, which I won’t reveal; I never stopped believing in Tegan and her story.

Several other characters feature in this novel, taking major or minor parts. Some of them seem all good or all bad at first. But as the story progresses, the good ones turn out to be not so good and the bad ones not so bad. In other words, the characters, like the plot, are true to life.

This novel should be read for its interesting and well-written story line. It can also be read to learn about the inside of a cult, as well as the difficulties of leaving one and acclimatising to the world outside. Highly recommended.

Disclaimer: Despite the similarities between Tegan and Esty, including their former lives, I’m not implying Esty grew up in a cult. I just wanted to make that clear.

As it happens, one of the minor characters in this novel will be here this Friday for the series: Letters from Elsewhere.

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Books

B Story for the #atozchallenge

2016AtoZChallenge

Brenda stopped in her tracks halfway down the stairs. Bright blue eyes shone out of the pitch black of the night. Brenda counted four of them. Blurry eyed still, she was unable to make out anything else at all.

Blindly, Brenda felt her way down. Bare feet inched along ice-cold tiles and dipped cautiously down to the next. Bitterly cold fingers clutched the brass banister. Blanched cheeks sensed only by the eyes’ owners, willing her to continue her mission.

Before obeying their silent command, Brenda looked down again. Both familiar white forms barged into her vision.

Bother! bugger! and other b-words blasted her brain after she lost her footing. But she continued to clutch the bannister, avoiding serious damage. Bruises on knees and arms would be the only outcome.

Braving the rest of the stairs, Brenda thrilled at the soft touch of thick, downy carpet and fluffy white creatures. Blowing warm air on her frozen hands, she led her companions into the kitchen and closed the door.

Being inside the room negated the necessity for quiet and dark. Brian wouldn’t hear her here. Brenda switched on the light and gradually accustomed her eyes to it. Below her, with ears sticking straight up in the air and a patience she knew would soon wane, two fluffy white rabbits awaited their next meal.

"Schatz,Du hast da was am Auge!" 2014-06-03 23-30

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Books

A Story for the #atozchallenge

2016AtoZChallenge

“Are you listening to me?” Andrew asked.

Alice glared at Andrew. “Are you having me on?”

“Absolutely not. Actuality is my middle name.”

“As you are not joking,” said Alice, “perhaps you’d care to tell me how a deaf person can listen.”

Andrew raised his eyebrows. “Although deaf people cannot hear, they are well able to listen. Are you not aware of that?”

“Ah,” said Alice. “And your point is…?”

Annoyed, Andrew wrote in capital letters: “A LISTENER DOESN’T NEED TO BE ABLE TO HEAR. A LISTENER NEEDS TO UNDERSTAND ALL MESSAGES, VISUAL AS WELL AS AURAL.”

“Are you saying I don’t listen to you?”

Andrew smiled, nodded and wrote, “Apparently my message is finally seeping into your brain.”

“Am I allowed to take these headphones off now? Arnold Schoenberg isn’t my favourite composer.”

Headphones

Hmm, not one of my better stories. They will get better, I promise.

The B story will appear on Sunday.

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Books Letters from Elsewhere

Letters from Elsewhere: Maria

KONICA MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA

Letters from Elsewhere

Today I welcome Maria, who has stepped out of the pages of The Infinity Pool by Jessica Norrie to share her letter to Anna. MARIA is a young girl living in a traditional village on a beautiful European island, where her parents run a café located near the site of a rather unconventional holiday settlement.  Anna is an older, more sophisticated distant relation who lives in the city.

Dear Anna

I’m writing to ask if I can come and stay with you if things go wrong. I’m actually incredibly happy! But I can’t tell my family about it, and my friends here wouldn’t understand, so it feels fragile, and my instinct is to set up an escape route. I’m a bit sick of working in the café, as well.

Do you remember that odd place on the road going west from here? Where rich people come for those weird holidays? We may have driven past it when you were visiting, though we usually go the other way towards the port. They stay in little wooden huts and all eat together at huge tables and it looks so uncomfortable. We’ve always wondered why people want to holiday there, with no air con, no bathrooms or even windows. I wasn’t allowed near it when I was little, and never understood why until one day we saw a man and a woman in the woods together, with no clothes on. You know what I mean. I know what they were doing now, but I didn’t then. Since then I often see them sort of waving their arms about and chanting or just singing a very low note over and over again. Some are quite fit: they do head stands and turn cartwheels and sit for hours like those Indian gods we saw at the exhibition that time I stayed with you. The only time we see them in the village is when they get stung by sea urchins and come limping in to look for remedies. Stupid people – they should just use their eyes better in the first place. They always seem so sad too – you quite often hear them crying or sort of wailing and howling. So odd. They say they’re looking for wisdom but they can’t see the simple things. Anyway if they were wise, my father says they wouldn’t be forever lighting candles. It’s crazy: with no rain for two months, the forest is like a tinderbox.  We’re all on fire alert.

So why am I going on about them? Well, a few days ago the boss from there came in for a drink and we got chatting. He’s really nice! He talked about his work, and invited me for a proper look.  It didn’t seem nearly so peculiar when he explained it all and you know what? It was so different to have a conversation like that with a man. He was interested in what I said, took my opinions seriously, and made me see things in a different light, somehow. Gradually I began to understand what they’re trying to achieve – it’s a kind of inner peace and helping people develop. It must be a refreshing kind of job, not like my life of just staying on the island and never learning anything new. He has lovely eyes that smile when he talks. He must be much older, but he doesn’t dress or behave like the older men I know. He doesn’t boss me, or say I can’t do things. In fact we – well, it’s wonderful, that’s all. I feel alive, like my body and my feelings are singing. I thought I’d feel somehow dirty or guilty when that happened, but it was close and warm. Now I just want it to happen again and again! Maybe he’ll take me to London – that’s where he lives most of the year. It honestly doesn’t seem to matter that we’re such different ages, or that he can’t speak my language – and my English is improving all the time. We lie on the pine needles and he teaches me so many things. I never thought my life would take this turn. It’s a brilliant surprise!

But I do have to keep it secret. When I go there I have to pretend I’m asking about a job; the only island people there are cleaners, gardeners and cooks. Everything seems very relaxed but underneath it’s two separate cultures. If my family found out they’d be furious. I can’t imagine them liking Adrian (that’s his name). He teaches happiness! To all these groups of wrinkly women in swimsuits, and then, by ourselves, to me. I don’t think the old English women (they’re mostly English) like me much either. They’re always smirking at him, trying for his attention, and he’s more interested in me! Well of course he is. He must be as much in love with me as I am with him – look, I’ve said it. That’s why I may want your flat as an escape route, if we need to get away together. Maybe he’ll ask me to marry him! If he does I promise you can be my wedding attendant. Stuff what the family thinks!

Must stop as it’s time to open the bar. I think he might drop in tonight. Oh it’s so hard to hide how we feel about each other, though he’s much cleverer at it than I am… I’ll let you know what happens next.

Much love

Maria

About The Infinity Pool

KONICA MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA

In this thoughtful novel set on a sun-baked island, Adrian Hartman, the charismatic director of the Serendipity holiday community, is responsible for ensuring the perfect mindful break, with personal growth and inner peace guaranteed. People return year after year to bare their souls. For some, Adrian is Serendipity.

But Adrian disappears, and with him goes the serenity of his staff and guests, who are bewildered without their leader. The hostility of the local villagers is beginning to boil over. Is their anger justified or are the visitors, each in a different way, just paranoid?

As romance turns sour and conflict threatens the stability of both communities, everyone has to find their own way to survive. This evocative story explores the decisions of adults who still need to come of age, the effect of well-intentioned tourism on a traditional community, and the real meaning of getting away from it all.

Published on Kindle Direct Publishing July 15th 2015 and in POD paperback July 29th 2015. No 1 in Australian Literary Fiction and Hot New releases September 2015!

Links to The Infinity Pool:

About Jessica

Jessica Norrie author photoJessica Norrie was born in London and studied French Literature at the University of Sussex and Education at the University of Sheffield. She taught in Paris and Dijon, and in the UK has taught English, French and Spanish to age groups from 5 to 80 in almost every educational setting possible.

She took a break from teaching when her two children were small, to study for and work as a freelance translator. She has also published occasional journalism and collaborated on a Primary French textbook (Célébrons les Fêtes, with Jan Lewandowski, Scholastic 2009).

Jessica sings soprano with the Hackney Singers, and wherever else she gets the chance in the UK and abroad. Less publicly, she plays the piano – slow pieces suit her best as she needs lots of time to figure out the chords.

She is fascinated by languages and has worked hard to make language learning approachable and fun even for the most nervous students.  But having always read voraciously, she would now prefer to concentrate on writing. “The Infinity Pool” is her first novel, drawing on many years of travel and encounters, and she already has several ideas for another.

Find Jessica on:

Jessica adds

I do have several free promo codes for Audio book reviews on Audible.com and Audible.uk if anyone would be interested, and of course am always happy to receive reviews anywhere else.

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Books Letters from Elsewhere

Letters from Elsewhere: Ellen Dunne

Letters from ElsewhereI’m delighted to welcome Ellen Dunne to my blog. Ellen, who comes from the pages of An Ocean Divide by Elizabeth Grimes Brown, lives in Ireland. Her lover, Michael McBride, recently travelled to New York to join his older brothers in their expanding family construction company. Ellen hasn’t told anyone that she is pregnant with Michael’s baby. In July 1912 she writes a letter to Michael that distresses him deeply.

This letter is sent with a heavy heart, Michael; you of all people will know how difficult it is for me to write the words you are about to read.

On Friday of last week, I became Mrs Patrick Lafferty.  Now I felt that I should be the one to tell you of my recent nuptials, and not out of any malice, Michael. I’m sure you will agree and understand that I would not stoop to that. I wouldn’t be wanting you to hear it as a topic of some piece of idle gossip.

Although it pained me deeply to hear of your engagement to, Amelia, I believe is her name?  I cannot but wish you well. You must luv her very much, Michael, for I can’t think of anuther reason why you would break my heart like this.  You of all people. I would never have expected in all the world that you would be the one to hurt me so.

That dreadful, unexpected revelation in the letter that cum from Robert, to your Da, was as a shock for us all, especially as I hadn’t heard a word from yourself on the matter;  still, it is dun now, and, after all we have been to each other, I cannot but wish you well in your new life.  And, Patrick, well he is a good man, I do care for him; I know he luvs me and will take good care of me.

I feel there should be more to say, but I am at a loss for words to express my sadness.

Wishing you well

Ellen

This is the first time Michael has heard any suggestion of an engagement to Amelia. Who could have told Robert such a thing?

About An Ocean Divide

EB2Invited by older brothers, Joe and Robert, to join their successful company in America, 19-year-old country boy Michael McBride is booked on the Titanic. After surviving the sinking of the ship and unaware that the family business has been built on corruption with the backing of the Mafia, he works hard to learn all he can. Through distractions, distance and deceit, he unwittingly neglects his love back in Ireland.

Ellen Dunne, finding she is pregnant, and hearing false rumours of Michael’s impending engagement to his boss’s daughter, is panicked into marriage to neighbouring, older farmer Patrick Lafferty.

Over the years, feuds and resentments divide brothers Michael and Robert. Michael’s love for Ellen is as strong as ever and one of his visits back home results in a second pregnancy. Eighteen years pass before Michael finds out that Jack, Ellen’s son and a boy he has befriended and grown to love on visits over the years, is really his own boy, the revelation being announced at Ellen’s funeral. Jack rejects him out of hand. Can father and son be reconciled, will Michael find new love, and will power-hungry brother Robert one day rue his guilty past?

As the story follows the family over four decades, the tale of love and loss brings heartache for all – births, deaths and corruption creating a feud between brothers.

About Elizabeth Grimes Brown

EB1Elizabeth Grimes Brown, mother of four adult children, three grandchildren and a 1-year-old great-granddaughter, lives in England with her husband, Bill. Born in 1941 at the height of the ‘big blitz’ into a small parish in the Dock Road area of Liverpool, Elizabeth, like many children born around that time, learned to make her own fun through escapism. Pretending, or story-telling, became part of her daily life.

After being employed in some menial jobs, and while raising her family and working for 23 years as a bank clerk, Elizabeth was always keen on being creative, be it dressmaking, decorating or art.  There were a few successes along the way: she won a make-over competition in a national newspaper in the year 2,000, and a piece of her art was hung in the local library as part of an exhibition.

It was only on retiring that Elizabeth decided to enrol in a creative writing course. After 2 years and a grade 1 and 2 accredited by Lancaster University, she applied and gained entry to a BA Creative Writing degree at Edge Hill University. Unfortunately, due to home and family commitments, this exercise was cut short.

Elizabeth has been treasurer of her local Writers’ Group since 2004 and has gained knowledge, experience and confidence through public readings. She has had a few small successes with acceptance for Puffin books and short stories in a couple of anthologies, and while taking part in a letter-writing venture for the ‘Liverpool Sea Odyssey’ to commemorate the centenary of the sinking of the Titanic, her letters were amongst the hundred selected to be fired from a cannon at the culmination of the event.

Having three novels and one short story published with FeadAread.com, in addition to the paperback version, Elizabeth now has all of her work available on Amazon Kindle.

You can follow Elizabeth on her Elizabeth Grimes Brown Author page on Facebook or elizabeth0141@twitter.com

Her available novels include An Ocean Divide, Run Amy Run and Loving in Fear, all of which can be found on Amazon.com – Amazon.co.uk – Barnes & Noble – WH Smith- Waterstones – and The Book Depository.

Other News

Elizabeth adds:

  • I am at present writing a social history novel based on my experiences of growing up in a predominantly catholic parish in the early years following WW2.
  • I am also collecting a number of short stories to add to my existing short story on Amazon: A Life in a Bottom Drawer.
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Books

2016 A-Z Blogging Challenge

It seems I missed Theme Reveal day, so I’ll reveal my theme today.

Here it is:

2016AtoZChallenge
Starting on 1st April.

Edit: To explain: (almost) every day in April I will post another story starting with the letter A and ending with Z. Other bloggers will have chosen different themes or may post without having a specific theme. You can find all the blogs taking part in the challenge here. You can also join in, if you want and have the time. I don’t have time, but I’m doing it anyway.

 

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Books Letters from Elsewhere

Letters from Elsewhere: Nick

Letters from ElsewhereMy guest today is Nick. He’s been released from the pages of The Forgotten Promise by Kate Ryder. Nick is sharing his letter to Maddie.

Ashton Chase Barn

6 March

Dear Maddie,

I have to write this letter.  Though I have a skip full of mail that demands answers and my day sheet is crammed with a mass of urgent chores and obligations that I have no hope of fulfilling, I have to write this letter.  I have a very stern and hard-working conscience which is giving me no peace at the moment.  This letter may quieten its angry clamouring.

It is to be a plea for my defence, a token of gratitude and hope for future friendship.

First, my defence.  I am not one of life’s great planners.  I do not chart courses or control events.  It cannot be said on my epitaph that he knew what he wanted and went out and got it.  Whilst my successful friends bore across life’s oceans in pursuit of lofty goals, I bob in their wake, drifting on the tide of circumstance, admiring the scenery that chance presents.  Through such aimless navigation I arrive in situations by accident.  I know enchanted creeks and peaceful backwaters that the captains of their own destiny will never see.  But there are perils that await the drifter, rocky shoals and whirlpools that responsible people steer clear of.

In the same way that I don’t control my life, I cannot control my feelings.  I cannot be blamed for admiring attractive scenery.  That a client happens to be both charming and beautiful should simply sweeten the working day.  Where I am guilty is in not heeding the signs that something was happening within.  I should have corrected things and started paddling away at the start when I found myself thinking of you too often and too fondly.  That I didn’t take evasive action was due to a naïve belief in some Enid Blyton Utopia where everyone exists as “jolly good chums” – a world uncomplicated by the tangle of feelings, relationships, sexuality, envy and jealousy.  The outcome is painful.  And now I am dangerously close to being in love, if not already.

This is where the gratitude comes in.  For the enchantment that your company has brought to my life.  It is a nice feeling knowing there is someone around that you really like.  Dorchester, Walditch and the Blacksmith’s Arms are places that have grown a new attraction for me – that I might glimpse you.  I enjoyed dusting off my peacock feathers (though I hope it wasn’t too obvious).  I did not make a play for you, rather I fell for you.  Thank you for briefly and unwittingly making me very happy.

A grey dawn now fills the barn where I am writing this.  It heralds a full day.  I have used up all the paper trying to write this and there is no more left, and I have not said anything that I really wanted to say.

Maddie, I wish you the greatest fortune in your life.  May the gods smile upon you and bless you with happiness – and may your friendship be mine.

Love, Nick.

The Forgotten Promise

9781491884577_COVER_FQA.inddThe Forgotten Promise is set in rural Dorset.  It is not only a present day romance between Maddie and Nick, but also an intriguing ghost story, replete with twists and turns, which takes the reader on a journey back to the dark and dangerous days of the English Civil War through the characters of Mary and Nat.  It is also a story of self-discovery, lost loves and second chances, and of a love that resonates through the ages…

Maddie believes her strong connection with Nick is more than simple, mutual attraction and, over time, recognises that the spirit of her 17th century husband, Nat, lives on through him.  Nick is unable to temper his feelings for Maddie and finds himself looking for any excuse to be around her but, being a loyal partner, is very aware of his responsibilities to his long-term girlfriend, Sarah. However, following an incident when he has allowed his strong feelings for Maddie to get the better of him, he writes the letter to her. Heart-broken, Maddie knows she has lost him for a second time.

The Forgotten Promise was shortlisted in Choc Lit UK’s “Search for a Star” competition.

The novel is available in both paperback and Kindle format on Amazon UK and Amazon US.

Kate Ryder

KateRyderKate Ryder has worked in a number of industries, including publishing. Mainly employed in editorial, she has worked as a proof-reader/copy editor and, most recently, as chief writer for a national newspaper.

Kate believes that variety is definitely the ‘spice of life’ and in 2001 she moved to Cornwall to restore a 200-year-old cottage. During renovations a time capsule was discovered, left by a previous owner, prompting Kate to think about past occupants and the lives and dramas that had been played out within her home.

With an interest in things ‘alternative’, in 2005 Kate set up a complementary health business for people and animals (http://www.equihealth.co.uk ) and – in between ‘proper’ jobs – has been active at shows and markets up and down the country.

Wanting to escape the restrictions of newspaper speak, Kate joined a creative writers group with the intention of writing short stories, some of which have since been published. However, following a chance conversation with a fellow country market trader the seeds were sown for The Forgotten Promise and a particular exercise during a writers’ workshop turned out to be a little longer than intended; hence this debut novel.
She is currently working on her second novel.

Kate lives in Cornwall with her husband and a collection of animals

She is scheduled to do a book signing during Tavistock Arts Festival 2016 on Saturday, April 23rd.