From June the fifth until the twelfth, my achaeological adventure Race Against Time will only cost my readers in the UK £0.99 pence. Click on the above highlighted title in red, and use the ‘Look Inside’ option to see what its all about.
From June the fifth until the twelfth, my achaeological adventure Race Against Time will only cost my readers in the UK £0.99 pence. Click on the above highlighted title in red, and use the ‘Look Inside’ option to see what its all about.
For lovers of lighthearted British fantasy, in this case an anthology of thirty linked tales about a family of friendly Southern Woods goblins, from today Thursday the third of May, you can get your discounted copy of Goblin Tales from Amazon.co.uk for just £0.99 per copy. The offer extends until May the tenth.
After what seemed like forever (in reality a calendar month), the third and final edition of Glob’s wonderful tales are now live on Amazon in Kindle and paperback form.
Here are the two main links:
So now is the time for you to read the anthology. Then post that review.
Just remember – we all need a little magic in our lives. Glob’s Tales are chock full of magic and wonderful characters!!!
In 2012, I published the very first book I ever wrote, back in 1995 – Turning Point. Out of it came my science fiction space opera Onet’s Tale. While TP was largely met with scorn and derision by the total connards of the US, not everyone hated it. Since the rules were changed by Amazon, no-one buys it any more. They merely wait until they can get their grubby paws on a free copy.
Once again last month I offered it for free. Guess what, it’s being read again. This time here in the UK! With 209 free copies taken this time round, and one copy actually bought, the number of pages read works out at 368. Divide that number by 168, the number of pages in the book, and you arrive at 2.19 books read. A pitiful amount I grant you. But at least two and a bit people are reading it…
Here are the UK reviews:
I have been brought up on the legend of Mu and Atlantis, the secrets of the Giza Pyramid, universes that exist and contain intelligent life, planetary travel etc. It was therefore easy to appreciate the breadth of vision of Turning Point, a fable and a science fiction novella by Jack Eason. The story is based on the legend that planet earth had been seeded by intelligent life from other planets and universes. So we have here an alien race of people known as the Drana, and a subordinate race they seeded known as the Khaz, to rule over our ancestors, and who still control our very existence by manipulating our governments (the cartel who call the shots on earth?).
We have here an explanation for ancient secrets like the electromagnetic grid which surround the earth, the reason for the pyramids, the seeding of the earth, the limited use of our minds capacity. We have here remnants of a peaceful people known as Nephile (Mu) who want to contain the Khaz and the secret designs of Drana to return to earth and form armies and slaves to conquer and colonize other planets. But they find that they are incapable of performing that task, without the supporting DNA of earthlings who have acclimatized themselves to the pollution and life on earth. This can only be accomplished by choosing earthlings who is more conducive to their needs (traces of Shambhala here).
Enter Tom, a man on a holiday in New Zealand, who does not know that he is being watched and manipulated, so that he finds the entrance to their homeland.
You will be enthralled by this story as I was, and appreciate the deeply researched book, the scientific mind of Jack and a possible explanation for the seeding of man on planet earth, and other scientific folklore.
I highly recommend Jack’s book, Turning Point. It will a turning point in your life, from the mumbo-jumbo that is today passed off as science fiction.
If you’re a classic sci-fi fan, you’ll love Jack Eason’s Turning Point. This prequel to his epic novel, Onet’s Tale (see my review here:[…]) tells the story of how alien life influenced Earth’s history and sparked a battle of universal proportions.
Reminiscent of Doyle’s “The Lost World”, the main character, Tom, stumbles onto a hidden realm in the heart of New Zealand. Within the prehistoric surroundings, lies a very advanced alien race, the Nephile. These angelic-like beings have hidden from their mortal enemies, the Drana and their cohorts, the sleazy little Khaz, who seek to enslave anyone they can. They enlist Tom to help with their mission to overcome the impending Drana invasion. The resulting struggles occur worldwide, resulting in a catastrophic war.
Along the way, Tom falls in love with a beautiful Nephile named Auset. This development, being the romance-a-holic I am, was my favorite part of the whole story. Their love and struggles here spawn the events that lead to Onet’s Tale.
The only things I would have liked more of were some deeper characterization and dialogue. Otherwise, it was easy to be swept away into this epic and deadly story. I recommend this, and Onet’s Tale, for any readers of classic sci-fi. Go grab a copy today!
Take one adventure story, give it a sci fi twist and add world war three. Mix in some answers to historical myths and legends and you have Turning Point. Take a journey with our hero Tom as he crosses the world rallying support to overthrow the evil aliens, you won’t regret it.
I highly recommend this book for all lovers of a good adventure story and if you like sci fi, you’ll find it realistic and entertaining.
In a world full of authors, it’s a delight to know there are still those few who can tell epic tales. Turning Point by Jack Eason fits this bill completely. Set in New Zealand, the tale unfolds of how a likeable young man,Tom, stumbles upon a secret that will change not only his life, but of all humanity. Starting with his discovery of the Nephiles, which then leads him to the dangers posed by the Drana and Khaz, he joins in the fight for survival.
It’s a tale on a grand cosmic scale and so well told, the characters leap from the page at you. A highly recommended read for those who love science fiction and classic adventure tales.
There was a time when mankind’s only means of exploring the Universe either meant sending unmanned probes to various locations across our solar system, or exploring beyond its borders using powerful telescopes parked in stationary orbit above the Earth, as well as the hundreds of observatories dotted across the planet. That all changed in the twenty-second century when fusion powered propulsion became a reality, along with a way of keeping a human being alive for the duration of any flight farther than the inner limits of our solar system.
The mission commander took one last look at the beautiful blue planet he and the crew called home as the ship prepared to leave Earth orbit. Now was the time for its crew to enter their stasis units. “If there are any problems at all Céleste, please don’t hesitate to wake me.”
“Understood David,” was the reply that echoed all around him.
Not only the ship but its small crew and the mission itself were in the care of the ship’s state of the art artificial intelligence. For the several decades it would take to achieve their goal, she was in complete control whenever the crew were held in stasis. Once she had ensured he and the rest of the human crew were in a safe state of suspended animation, she uploaded the complicated course with its numerous way points into the ship’s computer. Each waypoint must be reached in a specific order for them to ultimately arrive at the mission’s destination – the exoplanet designated Beaumont 61, located at the absolute outer extremity of the Orion Spur, the same spiral arm in which our own solar system is situated, part of the galaxy we know as the Milky Way.
Launch day had finally arrived. The ship was given the name Apkallu, the collective term for the pantheon of gods worshipped by the ancient Sumerians and Akkadians, thousands of years earlier in man’s chequered history. Until Apkallu arrived at the first waypoint, all of the technology and materials used, together with the method of its construction would remain unproven.
Apkallu’s crew consists of the twenty-eight year old mission commander, David O’Leary, who had gained a first in deep field astronomy at University College Dublin. The next crew member is the totally bewitching twenty-five year old Flávia Blanco with two Bachelor of Arts degrees to her name, one in plate tectonics and the other in geomorphology. Given her privileged background, whether or not she actually earned them was another matter entirely. Only time would tell. The third member of the crew is the forty year old self-taught Belgian electronics genius Lukas Gossens. His other talent as a gifted amateur chef negated any need to recruit anyone for the post. The fourth member of the crew is the diminutive thirty-five year old Japanese bio-scientist, Rieko Mori. She earned her two honours degrees, the first in horticulture and the other in exobiology, from Osaka University. Lastly, at fifty-six, the extremely dour doctor, Andreas Georgiadis had graduated thirty years earlier from The School of Medicine at the University of Thessaloniki in Greece. He had been chosen from a list of thousands of highly qualified doctors from across the planet. His field experience with Médecins Sans Frontières in various hotspots, particularly in the Middle East where civil war fuelled by religious intolerance and control over the area’s vast oil deposits still persisted in the twenty-second century, was the deciding factor for his inclusion as part of the crew.
Apkallu’s artificial intelligence was christened Céleste by the youthful team of highly gifted bio-electronic software graduates responsible for her creation. The ship’s Fusion reactor was designed and developed by a team of lateral thinking nuclear engineers from China, Korea, Germany and Japan. Lastly, the crew’s individual stasis units were conceived, designed and constructed in India. On reaching the first waypoint situated at the closest position possible to the Andromeda galaxy still within the spiral arm, Cèleste would wake the crew.
She engaged the Fusion powered propulsion system, gradually building up its output to a nominal thirty percent to achieve maximum sub light speed. Even though in theory it was capable of propelling Apkallu at the speed of light, given that it was still untried technology, whether or not it was safe to do so was considered a risk too far by its designers. They believed it was far better to err on the side of caution, unless Apkallu’s crew found the need to use its theoretical maximum speed to extract themselves and the ship from some as yet unforeseen circumstance.
Apkallu finally arrived at the first waypoint, five years after leaving Earth orbit. How their bodies would react to being in stasis for an extended period of time was yet another unknown. Céleste had constantly monitored each one of them for any sign of medical problems throughout the entire time it took to get here, paying particular attention to David for reasons which will soon become apparent. Before they could go about their duties, Andreas would have to give each one of them a full medical after first checking himself over.
“David, how do you feel?” she asked with a tinge of concern for him in her voice.
“Lethargic,” he groggily replied, trying with some difficulty to shake off the effects of his unnaturally long period of sleep. “God I’m hungry. I need proper food, not substitutes. How is everyone else?” he asked while he unplugged himself from the unit’s intravenous system that had supplied him with nutrients essential to his wellbeing.
“I’ll check for you.”
“Thank you. While you’re at it can you please ask them all to assemble in the observation lounge, once they’ve been given the all clear by Andreas?”
“Of course David, it will be my pleasure.”
While the crew were slowly recovering from the effects of years of physical inactivity, they took in the magical sight of our sister galaxy, Andromeda, floating in the star filled cosmos beyond the lounge’s vista windows. “Ok people,” David began. “While we all recover from our first taste of being in stasis we’ll remain here for a few days. Once we’re back to normal, we have a couple of tasks to perform before we head for the next waypoint. By that I mean we will be placing the first of a series of listening stations and optical observatories here. In the meantime get as much rest as you possibly can. Always providing of course that the good doctor here is not too insistent upon all of us taking part in some kind of punishing fitness regime he has dreamt up that is.” His last comment drew smiles and laughter from everyone with the exception of Andreas who failed to appreciate David’s joke at his expense. “That’s it for now. Lukas what’s on the menu, I don’t know about the rest of you but I need real food, not those damned stasis unit nutrients?”
“If Flávia and Rieko will consent to give me a hand I’ll rustle up something in a half hour or so,” the Belgian replied as his own belly began grumbling. With that David left to head to his private quarters for the first time in the mission.
Even before she spoke, David’s sixth sense told him that Céleste was about to say something. “David, may I have a word please?”
“Of course you can. What is it?” Even though she was nothing more than a disembodied presence to her human crew mates, her creators had given her voice a delightfully seductive French accent, which he found extremely pleasing to the ear.
“I’m curious about something. Can you tell me what is it that attracts a man to a woman?”
David was completely caught off guard by her question. “Well, I can only speak for myself. For me it’s a mixture of her intelligence, personality, attitude and looks, combined with how relaxed she feels in my presence. Take Flávia for example. Her mix of Amazonian Indian and Portuguese ancestry has manifested itself in a typical example of South American womanhood. Unfortunately, she appears to exhibit all the signs of becoming a total pain in the backside at some point in the future given her petulant manner and the arrogant way she reacts towards other women like Rieko. I put that down to the fact that she is the only child of very rich parents, and therefore was, and probably still is, spoilt. It strikes me that she is the kind of shallow creature who uses her looks to get her own way. It would not surprise me in the least if her parents had secured her degrees in return for a large donation to the university she attended. We’ll see if she actually did earn them when we arrive at Beaumont 61 when she is called upon to do what she was hired for. Until then I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt on that score.
Rieko on the other hand couldn’t be more different. While she is also extremely pleasing to the male eye, she gives the impression of having been brought up in the traditional Japanese manner. Which means that like all of her countrywomen, she was taught from birth how to entrance anyone she meets by the way she exudes femininity, gentleness, intelligence, grace and charm, while rarely speaking unless spoken to. I hope that helps to answer your question?”
“Yes – thank you. May I ask you other questions when they occur to me?”
“Of course; is there anything else you want to know at the moment?”
“Yes there was one other thing, forgive me for asking but who is that in the image on your bedside table?”
David picked up the framed photograph with a faraway look in his eyes. “I never knew her name. But that didn’t stop me falling in love with her in my teens when I first came across her photograph on the Internet. It’s the only personal possession I brought with me. Quite honestly Céleste, I couldn’t bear to be parted with it. I really wish I could have met her…”
“I’m sorry for prying. I thought she might be your fiancée.”
“Sadly no, as far as I can make out she lived at some time during the twenty-first century,” he replied, with a sad expression on his unshaven face and the merest hint of a tear beginning to well up in his eyes, which affected Céleste to the point where she dearly wished that she had a physical presence so that she could comfort him. “Is there anything else you wish to ask me?”
“Not at the moment David. Thank you.”
“Then it’s time to take a familiarisation tour of Apkallu. Would you care to join me?”
“You forget, wherever you are in the ship I’m always by your side David,” she quietly reminded him.
Over the next seven days he and the rest of the crew explored their giant new home. Rieko was in the scientist’s equivalent of seventh heaven as she wandered around her brand new laboratory and its adjoining seed banks and cryogenic storage lockers. Situated next to the laboratory, she found a state of the art hydroponics unit. Beyond that, a hothouse containing compost rich beds lit and heated with overhead UV sunlamps.
Andreas closely inspected Apkallu’s medical department, paying particular attention to the operating theatre and the recovery ward, plus the airtight contagion unit, necessary should anything hazardous to their health be contracted by any of the crew once they arrived at Beaumont 61.
For his part, David thoroughly familiarised himself with the ship’s on-board astronomical observatory on the upper deck and its adjoining workshop.
On the other hand, Flávia had to force herself to briefly enter her assigned workspace. When she saw its drab décor and utilitarian furnishings, she wrinkled her nose in utter disgust. Closing the door behind her she returned to the comfortable loungers in the observation lounge to daydream like a lovesick schoolgirl about being in David’s arms, having decided she wanted him.
As well as being the one responsible for Apkallu’s complicated electronics, Lukas was charged with maintaining its Fusion reactor, which powered literally every piece of equipment aboard from the propulsion system through to the cracking unit designed to create fresh water and a breathable oxygen rich atmosphere, plus the ship’s composting system that ingested all organic waste. In the latter’s case instead of the end product being jettisoned into space, it was to be used in Rieko’s hothouse as a source of fertilizer. Had his workshop been based on Earth, undoubtedly it would be the envy of literally every electronics and mechanical engineer across the entire planet.
On the last day of their stay at the first waypoint, Céleste and the rest of the crew watched as David piloted one of Apkallu’s shuttles, capable of reaching the surface of Beaumont 61 without burning up in its atmosphere, to a position approximately half a mile away to enable Flávia and himself to launch its payloads. No one was surprised in the least when she volunteered to help him. What she felt for him was blindingly obvious by the way she always sighed whenever anyone mentioned his name, or when he entered any area where she also happened to be at the time, the way she looked at him with a burning sexual hunger in her eyes, leaving the casual observer in no doubt whatsoever as to her physical intentions where he was concerned. No one had the heart to tell her that he simply couldn’t stand her. But because she had begged to be allowed to assist him, he took it as a golden opportunity for her to actually do some work for a change instead of merely lazing around.
The first of the telescope arrays with its mix of optical and infrared telescopes, each fitted with its own camera, was placed in position. While he left her to follow his instructions to the letter on how to check that it was fully functional, while at the same time paying particular attention to the links between the array’s cameras and their sender units, he flew the shuttle to the other side of Apkallu to set up the first listening post. In effect it was nothing more than a series of radio dishes and antenna, each specifically tuned to a preselected frequency that fed their individual signals to a powerful transmitter aimed at Earth. Having satisfied himself that it too was fully functional, he picked up Flávia before returning to Apkallu’s main shuttle bay.
Once back on board they joined the rest of the crew for their last meal together at the first waypoint. Three hours later while they once again slept in their individual stasis units, Céleste engaged Apkallu’s propulsion system. Satisfied that all was well, she could now devote all her energies to a research and development task she deemed to be of the greatest importance from her point of view. This leg of the journey would take fifteen years. More than enough time for what she had in mind.
…I’ve got to get people interested in my latest novella Autumn 1066 somehow. So, here is the opening chapter as a teaser.
Down the centuries, particularly during the period known as the ‘Dark Ages’, the British Isles was always seen by invaders as a legitimate target for exploitation. This novella concerns the last few weeks of Anglo-Saxon dominance, ending on the 14th of October, 1066.
Aldred shivered in his blanket beneath his shield. The weak light of dawn began to illuminate where the warriors of the Fyrd slept in a series of shallow frosty depressions on either side of Ermine Street, the old Roman road. The ancient route stretched from London to Lincoln and on to York. Where they were was a mix of open grassland and salt marsh. In this part of England, there was precious little cover for the countless number of housecarls and thegns already following King Harold northward. The flat landscape Aldred lay shivering in, is typical of the waterlogged fenlands in the northern part of the shires of Cambridge and Norfolk as well as those of the East Midlands.
By the time they eventually arrived at their destination there would be no hiding the swelling ranks of the Anglo-Saxon Fyrd, which steadily increased in number with every mile, as they marched northward. In an attempt to make the army far less conspicuous, at least from a distance, the king banned anyone from lighting a fire at night to cook and to keep warm, on pain of death. For the moment at least, surprise was still on his side. The further north they marched, the greater was the chance that enemy spies would soon spot their approach. The glow of a fire, even hazy wisps of smoke, could so easily be spotted at a distance or smelt on the wind by anyone on the lookout for any sign of the King’s approach. Especially on a cool clear September day like today. With daylight steadily increasing, the king’s older brother, Gyrth, the Earl of East Anglia, would soon begin the rounds by kicking the backsides of Harold’s housecarls, who in turn would wake the thegns of the Fyrd in a similar rough manner for what lay ahead.
Only a few days earlier, troubling news had reached Harold Godwinson at the palace of Westminster in London after he had been elected king by the Witan in accordance with Edward the confessor’s dying wish, naming Harold as his legitimate heir over that of his teenage nephew Edgar Ǽtheling.
Harold’s banished brother Tostig and the Norwegian King, Harald Sigurdsson, known as Hardradå (hard ruler) by his warriors, had joined forces in southern Scotland, after his large invasion fleet of three hundred long ships manned by warriors eager for battle, had just arrived. Tostig’s smaller contingent of Norman mercenaries, loaned to him by Duke William of Normandy, soon joined the fleet, while Tostig was temporarily elsewhere.
The disgraced Anglo-Saxon earl had set off to recruit Scots mercenaries of his own after first crossing the North Sea to the Low Countries to obtain additional Flemish warriors from his father-in law. Now that he was back, Tostig was impatient to be on the move to reclaim his earldom in Northumbria. To his astonishment and annoyance, the seasoned Norwegian campaigner was in no hurry. As far as Harald was concerned, he had more pressing matters on his mind.
A few weeks earlier, Tostig had set off from Normandy with Duke William’s blessing to retake his lands in Northumbria in exchange for promising him his support for what was seen by William as his legitimate claim to the English crown. Hardradå’s reason for invasion was also to lay his own claim to the English crown. Both William and Harald shared a common ancestor with Harold Godwinson in the Dane Canute who had previously ruled England. For his part, Tostig wanted his brother either driven from England’s shores forever, or executed. Not entirely sure that William had the stomach for the task at hand, meant that encouraging the bloodthirsty Norwegian king to do the deed was probably the better option.
Tostig first landed on the Isle of Wight where his men ran amok among the local Anglo-Saxon population. Eventually he and his small force of Normans were routed by an overwhelming force when word of an invasion rapidly spread across the island. This left him no choice but to head back out to sea to travel up England’s east coast to seek a temporary safe haven. On his eventual arrival in southern Scotland he immediately swore fealty to the terrifyingly short tempered Norwegian king, purely for fear of his own life.
Aldred kicked the shin of the shivering youth sleeping with his back to him. Cynric still had his arms wrapped lovingly around his longbow, minus its plaited and bound bowstring made from deer sinew. Whenever the temperature fell below freezing, he always kept it inside his shirt next to his skin to keep it pliable. His quiver of fire hardened, hazel shafted arrows with Goose feather fletchings, each bearing his mark as their manufacturer, lay across his crotch.
“Come on lad wake up!” Before they left to join the Fyrd, Aldred had promised his sister that he would look after his nephew, since the youth had been told by their Housecarl Betlic, that he was now old enough to serve the king in time of war. Growing up, Cynric had made a name for himself in the small farming community where both he, his mother and uncle lived in the southern part of the shire of Cambridge. His reputation as a meticulous fletcher, together with being an excellent shot when it came to hunting wolves or boar with his grandfather’s well-seasoned Yew longbow, spread far and wide.
“I’ve never been so far away from home before uncle. Where are we?” Cynric yawned before adding, “have you got anything to eat? I’m hungry.”
“We’re barely a day’s march from home lad. You’d know that if you kept your mind on why we’re here. Now come on, shift yourself daydreamer. If you’re hungry, nibble on one of your mother’s excellent oatcakes.”
“But they dry my mouth out! Haven’t we got anything else to eat uncle?”
“No! Now bite off a small bit and chew it slowly. Better that than what you usually do at home!” Aldred growled. “Get a shift on and join the rest of the Fyrd. The king still has to recruit more thegns, housecarls and their levies from Northampton, Rutland and Lincoln before we reach the river Humber. If your belly is still complaining after the piece of oatcake we can always find something else to eat along the roadside. For god’s sake boy – shift yourself! I’m damned if I’m being punished by Betlic because you want to drag your heels to admire a tree! While you’re at it, remember that from now on, before we start out each morning you’d best string your bow. The king may have need of it before the day is over,” Aldred replied while shouldering his shield, and hefting his spear. As they set off he checked that his father’s scramasax was secure at his belt, as well as his trusty all-purpose seax.
“How much farther north are we going uncle?”
“I’ve already told you all I know. We’re heading for the Humber! It’s not for the likes of you and me to question where or why we’re heading there. You’re in the king’s Fyrd now! We just follow orders lad. When the time comes, I’ve no doubt we will fight alongside king Harold.”
As the Fyrd began marching behind Harold’s horse and those of his brothers, Gyrth, the earl of East Anglia, and Leofwine, the earl of Kent, friendly banter could be heard breaking out among the ranks.
“What do you think Beadurof?” Colby wondered.
“The shapely hips on the comely wench yonder. Hey Aldred, we’re glad you brought your beautiful niece with you,” Colby added, “Oh Beadurof my heart is rapidly beating. Will you just look at the way her hips swing and sway?” he sighed. “Not to mention how the cheeks of her beautiful backside quivers as she walks. Very desirable, don’t you think?”
“Well if she gets cold sleeping on her own tonight or any other night from now on, I’ll fight you for the honour of protecting her Colby. I’ll keep her warm at night, always providing she lets me have my way with her that is. What say you my beauty? Do you want to be the lover of a lusty man with fire in his veins?” Beadurof replied with a huge grin as he blew a kiss in Cynric’ general direction while continually thrusting his crotch back and forth.
Aldred bit his tongue as he fought hard not to smile. When viewed from behind, because of his slender build, long blond hair and tender years, his nephew could so easily be mistaken for a young female at a distance. Smirking to himself, he briefly glanced in his direction. Cynric’s face flushed bright red with anger at the good natured jibe by his uncle’s oldest friends.
If after reading the opening chapter, you wish to read the entire story, click on either of the following links to buy a copy, or go to the amazon link relevant to your country:
Don’t forget to write and post a review for it on the Amazon link you bought it from. Far too many good stories like Autumn 1066 fall by the wayside, due to public apathy these days…
Bernard Cornwell OBE
The other day following the first Amazon review of my latest work Autumn 1066, its author Sally Cronin paid me the ultimate compliment in one of her comments below the post, comparing me to one of today’s finest writers of historical fiction – Bernard Cornwell OBE.
These days for most lovers of historical fiction on television, while they may not know, or care, who is responsible for the original works of fiction which television series are based upon, even the mentally challenged among them will at the very least be familiar with two of Bernard’s best known fictional heroes – Richard Sharp (Sharp’s Rifles) and Uhtred of Bebbanburgh (The Last Kingdom).
When it comes to Indie writers like myself, most of us count ourselves lucky that what we write is not immediately panned, or heavily criticised by the army of armchair critics, pedants and literary snobs lying in wait for the next book written by one of us. Which is precisely the reason why I deliberately published my latest effort as a paperback only. Most attacks only occur when an Indie’s book is only available as an ebook (preferably free).
When someone does dare to speak up for a book written by an Indie, it makes an extremely rare and pleasant change. So now all I have to do is hope and pray that Autumn 1066 becomes a best seller, while I search for another moment in history to write about, probably once again from the Dark Ages, starting in a few month’s time.
PS – one of my favourite books was written years ago by Bernard – Stonehenge 2000BC. As I recall it was heavily criticised as being sluggish, boring and long-winded, which by the way it isn’t. But then again, what can you expect from utterly ignorant individuals who wouldn’t know a good book when they see it?
Down the centuries the British Isles has always been seen by invaders as a legitimate target for exploitation. This novella concerns the last few weeks of Anglo-Saxon occupation, ending on the 14th of October, 1066.
At long last my historical novella Autumn 1066 (paperback only) is now available for purchase.
Please take note of the following number:- ISBN-13: 978-1546685302.
First of all, may I suggest that you order your copy directly from CreateSpace by inserting the above ISBN number when looking for it. Ordering directly from the printer is by far the cheapest purchasing option.
I ordered six copies to give to my friends at US$2.15 each as opposed to US$5.38 each on Amazon US, and UK£4.17 on Amazon UK. The CreateSpace price for my latest book works out at roughly what you pay for the average ebook these days. Which makes it value for money, I’m sure you will agree…
Buying from CreateSpace is a no-brainer in my book!!!
Of course if money is no object, you can always order it from your nearest Amazon outlet. Here are the links for Amazon’s two main outlets:-
Unfortunately, the one thing you cannot do on CreateSpace is post a review. That can only be done at Amazon sites. Here’s hoping that you enjoy reading the novella. If that is the case, do please post a review on Amazon.
PS – Are you one of those strange individuals who do not believe in ordering anything online? In that case, write down the title and the above ISBN number together with CreateSpace’s link – https://www.createspace.com/. Then head off to your local bookshop armed with all the information, and tell them (don’t ask) to order a copy for you…
I have to report that I’m almost fifty percent the way through the first stage of this year’s writing project, the re-read. To that end I’m still picking up characters as and when they appear, and more of the vague clues I inserted into The Forgotten Age.
If you look at the above illustration you will see the way Nick and co found their way beneath the Great Pyramid and the Ghiza Plateau in their search for the Library of the Ancients via the Pit and the blocked off tunnel opposite from the base of the Descending Passage.
It has to be said – I really know how to write a brilliant tale. If you don’t believe me, why not ask the celebrated author of all things ancient Egypt these days – my friend Robert Bauval. Its sequel will have to be even better if I’m going to have any hope of impressing him for a second time.
As well as the re-read, I’ve begun by thinking about how to get Nick and co out of the predicament I left them in where Forgotten ended so dramatically, somewhere beneath the Giza Plateau, between the Great Pyramid and the Sphinx. I’m also considering several ideas I have at the moment about how they might escape – if they can that is. More of that later once I’ve something else to report…
By the way, if you buy your ebooks from Amazon.co.uk, click on the highlighted red link above to get yourselves a copy of Forgotten to see what all the fuss is about.
Newsflash – Robert has already offered to write a review, even before I have begun to write the sequel. 🙂
Does this place look familiar to you? If you read Forgotten it should do…
Well I have begun. At the moment I’m in serious re-reading mode concerning The Forgotten Age. So far I’ve carefully worked my way through the first two chapters. I’m not just reacquainting myself with the characters, but also what happened in, around and beneath the Giza Plateau, as well as on the surface. I’m also making note of the seemingly random clues which most will have ignored, not appreciating their significance or even rejected as possible red herrings.
I always leave vague clues in every book I write. No doubt I’ll do the same thing when I come to write the sequel, just in case another is required by you in the future.
If you’ve already read Forgotten through thoroughly you will have noted the significance of above picture. DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT SAY ANYTHING REGARDING IT IN YOUR COMMENTS. TO DO SO WOULD BE A MONUMENTAL SPOILER ALERT FOR NEW READERS!!! For those who have no clue what I’m talking about, do yourselves a favour and click on the above red link, get a copy and read it!
That’s about it for now. I’ve got more re-reading to do. More characters to catch up with both good and bad, plus more of those subtle clues to gather together…