Quintillus - Fed With My Own Demons

 

Quintillus is back, bringing all his evil with him, infesting the magnificent house that his damned and obsessed spirit will not leave. 

Emeryk Quintillus has been part of my life for a long time now - around ten years in fact. When I created him, it was during a challenging time in my life. In early 2015, I was seeing rather more of the medical profession than I would have chosen. My body was telling me that what I had hoped would sort itself out wasn't going to, and my symptoms caused differences of opinion between specialists and consultants who examined me. Biopsies were taking place. Need I say more? Cancer is always a devastating diagnosis. I would have a fight on my hands.

Through five drafts of Wrath of the Ancients, Quintillus developed. The worse my personal news became, the more evil I poured into him. It was a catharsis of sorts and it is altogether possible that the fully formed Quintillus that stalks the pages of the Nemesis of the Gods trilogy wouldn't be half the demon he is without his creator having to fight her demons.

Waking the Ancients -  part two of the Nemesis of the Gods trilogy - is now back in beautiful new ebook and print editions. Here's what to expect:

Egypt, 1908

University student Lizzie Charters accompanies her mentor, Dr. Emeryk Quintillus, on the archeological dig to uncover Cleopatra’s tomb. Her presence is required for a ceremony conducted by the renowned professor to resurrect Cleopatra’s spirit—inside Lizzie’s body...

Vienna, 2018

 

Paula Bancroft’s husband has leased Villa Dürnstein, an estate once owned by Dr. Quintillus. Within the mansion are several paintings and numerous volumes dedicated to Cleopatra. But the archaeologist’s interest in the Egyptian empress deviated from scholarly into supernatural, infusing the very foundations of his home with his dark fanaticism. And as inexplicable manifestations rattle Paula’s senses, threatening her very sanity, she uncovers the link between the villa, Quintillus, and a woman named Lizzie Charters. 

And a ritual of dark magic that will consume her soul . . .

I am hugely indebted to Crossroad Press (under their Macabre Ink imprint) for these lovely new editions of the Nemesis of the Gods trilogy now in ebook and print and available from:

Barnes and Noble

Amazon

Kobo

and elsewhere

Images:

Crossroad Press

Shutterstock

Passages to the Past

In my novel, Saving Grace Devine, my main character – Alex Fletcher – finds herself cast back to 1912. Clearly, my story is a work of fiction, but I have long been fascinated by the concept and reports of timeslips. 

What causes these doors to the past to open – apparently with such ease? It seems a lot depends on how you view the whole dimension of time. In history, we talk about timelines, assuming time is linear. What is past, stays in the past. The present is where we are now and the future is an unknown country. Yet many eminent scientists, from Einstein to Professor Brian Cox, challenge the finite nature of time and suggest it may be a lot more flexible than we were led to believe at school.

Certainly, an extraordinary number of accounts from seemingly perfectly sane people attest to some very strange experiences that defy conventional explanation. Some may have involved a trigger factor – such as being keenly interested in historical aspects of a particular place. See what you think.

In Leeds Castle, Kent, Alice Pollock was exploring Henry VIII’s rooms, touching objects and trying, mentally, to project herself back in time to experience events in that room from an earlier age. For a while nothing happened. Then, suddenly, the room changed. Instead of a modern comfortable space, it became cold and bare. Logs burned on the fire, the carpet had vanished. She saw a tall woman, dressed in an old-fashioned long white dress, walking up and down the length of the room. The woman appeared to be unaware of her visitor and seemed to be concentrating hard on something.

Then, as quickly as it had happened, the room changed back to its original state.

Alice conducted research and discovered that the room had been part of a suite used to imprison Queen Joan of Navarre, Henry V’s stepmother, whose husband had accused her of witchcraft.

Did Alice touch some object that resonated with this era? Did she just will herself into some kind of hallucination? Or did her enthusiasm set of a trigger of some kind, allowing her to glimpse a snapshot of a time long past.

Joan Forman, author of a number of books on ghosts, mysteries and the supernatural, wrote of a Warder at the Tower of London who had an extraordinary experience when he was on duty in the Byward Tower. One night he saw five or six Beefeaters seated around a log fire, smoking pipes. They appeared to be from a much earlier era and the whole room had transformed. Unnerved, the warder left the room, but returned moments later whereupon it had reverted to its original state. There was no sign of the Beefeaters.

Forman wrote of many other experiences, and then had one of her own. At Haddon Hall in Derbyshire, she paused to admire the surroundings. Suddenly, she saw four children playing outside. She watched them, especially captivated by the oldest girl, who had blonde hair, wore a high Dutch hat and a long green-grey silk dress with a white collar. Clearly not of this era. She was certain she was watching them with some kind of inner vision, rather than with her physical sight. Believing that the little girl might actually have existed, she searched the ancestral portraits until she found her. She succeeded and found herself looking at a portrait of Lady Grace Manners who died in the 1640s.

Through her own experience and those she documented, Joan Forman became convinced that the theory of a trigger factor, instigating the ‘timeslip’ was true. She had been caught up in the atmosphere of the place, had let her mind drift for a second or two, and allowed the past to slip into the present.

Whatever the truth of the many well-documented occurrences of apparent timeslips, they simply won’t go away, and accounts are found from all over the world. With scientists telling us that bending time is indeed possible, who knows?

Here’s a flavour of Saving Grace Devine: - which is now back in print, as well as ebook:

Can the living help the dead...and at what cost?

When Alex Fletcher finds a painting of a drowned girl, she’s unnerved. When the girl in the painting opens her eyes, she is terrified. And when the girl appears to her as an apparition and begs her for help, Alex can’t refuse.

But as she digs further into Grace’s past, she is embroiled in supernatural forces she cannot control, and a timeslip back to 1912 brings her face to face with the man who killed Grace and the demonic spirit of his long-dead mother. With such nightmarish forces stacked against her, Alex’s options are few. Somehow she must save Grace, but to do so, she must pay an unimaginable price.

Saving Grace Devine is now back in print, as well as ebook and is available here:

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Apple

Kobo

and elsewhere

Images:

Crossroad Press

Shutterstock

When An Imaginary Friend Crosses The Line

When you were growing up, did you have an imaginary friend? Did they seem real to you? Maybe sort-of-real. You could talk to them, imagine their responses, play with them but you probably kept the ‘relationship’ within certain boundaries – however young you were. In my case, I invented an entire family of siblings – three sisters (two older, one a few years younger) and an older brother who looked out for us girls. Being an only child, I found them comforting, and fun, but I never imagined them to be real. They, in turn, kept themselves firmly lodged in my own mind and never attempted to cross any boundary into the real world.

In my novel, The Devil’s Serenade, my central character also had an imaginary family when she was a child. Scarily for her, they now start to appear in her real adult world.

Of course, my story is fiction, but there have been a number of accounts of small children making ‘friends’ with most unsuitable imaginary characters – who then cross the line. They can do this because they are not really imaginary at all – just invisible, at least to all except the child itself.

One instance involves the story of a four-year-old boy called Jayden and the strange events that began during the height of summer when his mother heard him apparently talking to someone. She didn’t think too much about it at the time as he was playing with his toys and she assumed it was part of the game he had invented for himself that day. “C’mon, Jack! You’re the bad guy!” her son said.

A few days later, her son had a vivid dream and told his mother about it. In it, he had been going away somewhere with his friend, Jack. From then on, Jack seemed to be his major topic of conversation. Eventually his mother became so irritated by the constant repetition of his name that she demanded to know who this ‘Jack’ was.

Immediately, her son pointed behind her and said, “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” 

She turned, but there was no one there. The mother was momentarily unnerved but then decided there was no harm in it. Jack was obviously an imaginary friend.

A week later, Jayden was in his room and started yelling. His mother dashed upstairs to find his room in chaos. Toys, books and clothes were strewn everywhere. His mother demanded he clean up the mess rightaway, but Jayden was in a furious temper. “It was Jack!” he insisted.

“It wasn’t Jack,” his mother said. “There is no Jack!”

Soon after that, Jayden’s mother came into his room to find him standing on top of his cupboard. She was perplexed as to how he could have got up there by himself as it was a metre and a half high.

“Jack told me to jump,” Jayden said. “I have to be nice to him or he will hurt me.” His mother helped him down and cuddled him close, as her mind raced. What was happening here?

All was quiet for a few days until she was passing his room and saw Jayden playing. To her horror, she saw toys and books move by themselves across the room. Her little boy cried, “No, Jack, no!”

She dashed in to comfort her child. Instantly, the activity ceased.

Jayden’s mother installed a baby monitor in his room. She didn’t have to wait long for a result. Listening downstairs, she heard Jayden’s voice on the monitor. White noise or static followed and every so often she could make out another voice. She couldn’t understand what it was saying, but it was clear Jayden could.

Suddenly over the monitor, a strange male voice boomed out. “I will hurt you!”

A loud thud echoed around the house. When Jayden’s mother reached him, she found her son lying on the floor, injured, crying and in pain. She rushed him to the hospital, where they found he had a sprained wrist and a fractured rib.

“Jack pushed me off the cupboard,” he said.

His mother called in a priest, who conducted a house cleansing and, mercifully, this seemed to do the trick because Jayden has never mentioned Jack since and life has returned to normal.

Imaginary friends. They can be innocent good fun – but some of them clearly have alternative agendas.

Maddie had forgotten that cursed summer. Now she’s about to remember…

“Madeleine Chambers of Hargest House” has a certain grandeur to it. But as Maddie enters the Gothic mansion she inherited from her aunt, she wonders if its walls remember what she’s blocked out of the summer she turned sixteen.

She’s barely settled in before a series of bizarre events drive her to question her sanity. Aunt Charlotte’s favourite song shouldn’t echo down the halls. The roots of a faraway willow shouldn’t reach into the cellar. And there definitely shouldn’t be a child skipping from room to room.

As the barriers in her mind begin to crumble, Maddie recalls the long-ago summer she looked into the face of evil. Now, she faces something worse. The mansion’s long-dead builder, who has unfinished business—and a demon that hungers for her very soul.

The Devil's Serenade, published by Crossroad Press, is available in ebook and print from:

Wordery

Amazon

Apple

Kobo

Barnes and Noble

Waterstones

Images:

Crossroad Press

Shutterstock

Quintillus Returns - In A Brand New Edition!

 

1913. Storm clouds gather over Europe – and in a basement in Vienna, an unquiet spirit stirs…

Adeline always dreamed of visiting the Austrian capital, so the chance to work there seems like a dream come true. But, from the moment she sets foot in the elegant mansion that belonged to the late archeologist Dr. Emeryk Quintillus, she senses a presence—one so menacing and evil, she fears for her sanity and her life.

Strange noises from behind the walls, shadowy figures that cannot be there, hieroglyphics that appear on the wall, and an enigmatic portrait of a long dead Egyptian queen. Quintillus had made the discovery of the century—so why did he hide it?

Ancient enemies are at war in this mysterious house, and Adeline’s fate is inextricably woven to theirs.

Of all the nasty characters I have created over the years, one stands out for me. Dr. Emeryk Quintillus's obsession with Cleopatra, his total, single-minded determination to bring her back to life, and to possess her for all eternity - combined with his total lack of humanity - make him the villain who keeps on giving to me as his creator.

He will stop at nothing to get what he wants. Even death cannot thwart him.

Now, for a writer, when a book goes out of print, that's a kind of death. And when that fate befalls a trilogy...  You see, Wrath of the Ancients started out its publishing life as Book One of the Nemesis of the Gods trilogy and was soon followed by Waking the Ancients and Damned by the Ancients which completed the set.

Fast-forward a few years and the trilogy was united in one large volume, entitled Nemesis of the Gods. When this also went out of print, Quintillus wasn't having any of it. Hell hath no fury like a demon archaeologist scorned.

Now he has risen again. The trilogy is being re-released in the original three volumes with stunning new cover art, all courtesy of lovely publishers, Crossroad Press (in their Macabre Ink imprint).

Available in ebook and print editions:

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Kobo

and elsewhere

Images:

Crossroad Press

Shutterstock

Who Would Be...The Second Wife

 

Emily Marchant died on Valentine’s Day. If only she’d stayed dead…

When Chrissie Marchant first sets eyes on Barton Grove, she feels as if the house doesn’t want her. But it’s her new husband’s home, so now it’s her home as well. Sumptuous and exquisitely appointed, the house is filled with treasures that had belonged to Joe’s first wife, the perfect Emily, whom the villagers still consider the real mistress of Barton Grove.

A stunning photograph of the first Mrs. Marchant hangs in the living room, an unblemished rose in her hand. There’s something unnerving and impossibly alive about that portrait, but it’s not the only piece of Emily still in the house. And as Chrissie’s marriage unravels around her, she learns that Emily never intended for Joe to take a second wife…

In print for the first time!

'Highly recommended for fans of gothic horror, ghost stories, or anyone looking for a chilling read.' - Little Miss Zombie

'The Second Wife is a story of both the persistence of the Supernatural and of psychological horror, so finely tuned that the approach of the horrendous is gradual but implacable. I'm so glad I read this in the daylight; although I expect to have nightmares tonight. I literally have chills.' - The Haunted Reading Room

'Wonderfully creepy and intriguing. I think the moral of this story is... don't be the second wife. Bad things will happen to you.'- Reading the Paranormal

'This story is a fantastic choice for anyone who prefers to allow their imagination to inflate certain horrors instead of asking the author to spell everything out in bright red letters.' - Long and Short Reviews

The Second Wife is available in ebook and print editions here:

Amazon
Barnes and Noble

and elsewhere

Images:

Crossroad Press

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Now You Can See, Hear and Hold...The Devil Inside Her

When dreams become nightmares, someone will die

Haunted by the death of her husband and only child, Elinor Gentry’s recurring nightmares have left her exhausted. She’s crippled by debt, and only the remnants of her former life surround her, things she can’t bear to sell, and wouldn’t make much profit from if she did. Then, for no apparent reason, the nightmares transform into pleasant dreams. Dreams that lead her to take back control of her life.

A string of horrific and unexplained suicides–and an unnerving discovery about Elinor herself—lead her best friend to seek help from the one person who has seen all this before, and things begin to spiral out of control. Hazel Messinger knows that Elinor’s newly found well-being is not what it seems, and Hazel’s not about to let the demon inside remain there permanently.

'A great - and very different take - on a demon possession story.'  -  Cat After Dark

'With lovely, dark imagery and a terribly twisted way of killing innocent people, Marnie and Elinor's story skates between true friendship and horror. Creepy, just the way I like it.' - Reading the Paranormal

Now available for the first time in print, as well as ebook and Audible!

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

and elsewhere

Images:

Crossroad Press

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Miss Abigail's Room - First Time in Print!

It wasn’t so much the blood on the floor that Becky minded. It was the way it kept coming back…

As the lowest-ranking parlour maid at Stonefleet Hall, Becky gets all the dirtiest jobs. But the one she hates the most is cleaning Miss Abigail’s room. There’s a strange, empty smell to the place, and a feeling that nothing right or Christian resides there in the mistress’s absence. And then there’s the blood; the spot that comes back no matter often Becky scrubs it clean. Becky wishes she had somewhere else to go, but without means or a good recommendation from her household, there is nothing for her outside the only home she’s known for eighteen years. So when a sickening doll made of wax and feathers turns up, Becky’s dreams of freedom and green grass become even more distant. Until the staff members start to die.

A darning needle through the heart of the gruesome doll puts everyone at Stonefleet Hall at odds. The head parlour maid seems like someone else, the butler pretends nothing’s amiss, and everyone thinks Becky’s losing her mind. But when the shambling old lord of the manor looks at her, why does he scream as though he’s seen the hounds of hell?

Stonefleet Hall hides many secrets...

But the worst of them reside in Miss Abigail's Room.

"Catherine Cavendish has consistently given me a case of the creepy crawlies with her books and this story is no different. It starts with the blood on the floor and it just gets worse and worse for poor Becky until you don't know who she should trust or who she should be running from... Paranormal horror. There's nothing more terrifying" - Reading the Paranormal

 "This is one of those books that, once begun, you want to stay in until the final page"- Horror After Dark

Now in print FOR THE FIRST TIME

and available from:

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

and elsewhere

Images:

Crossroad Press

Shutterstock

 

Some Dinner Invitations Are Best Ignored...

'This was one of those stories that snuck up on me. It was nicely dark, moved quickly and kept me guessing as to what was going to happen right up to the end.' - Reading the Paranormal

For no apparent reason, Nadine, Maggie, Gary, and Nick are invited to dinner at the lavish home of top fashion writer, Erin Dartford. But why has she invited them? Why doesn't she want her guests to mingle? And just what is it about the mysterious Erin that makes them want to run for their lives?

Little do they know that as they prepare to eat their first course, an evil as old as mankind is about to be unleashed. And revenge really is a dish best served cold…

I am delighted to announce that Crossroad Press has just published the paperback version of my first novella. Thirteen years on from its first release, Cold Revenge was only available in ebook versions but now, for the first time, it's in print!

Don't get me wrong, I love my Kindle. It's great for vacations. But, let's face it, there's nothing like the sight, feel and smell of a real book.

Cold Revenge was borne of a chance conversation about...well...revenge (in concept, rather than practice, I hasten to add). 'Revenge is a dish best served cold' said author Eugene Sue in Memoirs of Matilda first published in 1846 (although he may not have been the first). In my story, you can make your own minds up as to who deserves vengeance (if anyone).

Erin Dartford has already determined her choices...

Cold Revenge is available in paperback and ebook from:

Amazon

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and elsewhere

(Text) Messages from Hell and Other Bad Infuencers

You all remember Annabelle, right? That scary, murderous doll eventually caught, trapped and locked away for posterity by demon-hunting duo Ed and Lorraine Warren. (Or was she?). There are numerous other accounts of the devil and his cohorts inhabiting inanimate objects and bringing them to life in all sorts of evil ways, but this is the 21st century and it would appear the devil is also a dab hand at using our everyday technology for his own dastardly ends. Nothing is safe or immune from his attention. Not even the humble text message. We've seen fictional examples in horror movies of recent years but it couldn't happen in real life, could it?

Well... Take this strange case in Poland:

In 2014, priest Marian Rajchel carried out an exorcism on a teenage girl. It failed. Instead of leaving her soul, he somehow managed to drive the demon into the girl’s mobile phone whereupon he started to receive threatening text messages from it.

He replied and received the response, “Shut up, Preacher. You cannot save yourself. Idiot. You pathetic old preacher.” Even more sinister, one message said, “She will not come out of hell. She’s mine. Anyone who prays for her will die.”

Father Rajchel was convinced the author of the text messages was the same demon that possessed the girl’s soul and, furthermore, asserted that this was no isolated incident. He believed many such cases like this were going undetected because people didn’t realise they were being used in this way.

He went on record saying that the young girl was in need of further help to rid her of the evil inhabiting her. Sadly, the priest died in 2021.

But Father Rajchel is not alone in his belief that the devil is working through technology. Back in 2000, in Savannah, Georgia, Reverend Jim Peasboro wrote a book entitled, The Devil in the Machine; Is Your Computer Possessed by a Demon? This now appears to be out of print but in an article published in The Journal Record, it would seem that, in his view, any computer built after 1985 has the memory capacity to house a demon. He believed then, ‘one in ten computers in America now houses some type of evil spirit.” Now, if he is correct, that number must be close to one hundred percent worldwide. Pretty scary stuff - if true. However, he quotes as evidence for this, many instances of formerly happily married men unable to stop themselves from visiting pornographic websites and of women drawn into internet chat rooms where they behaved totally out of character, using foul language and debasing themselves in a way that would hitherto have been abhorrent to them. One such woman wept as she told of feeling that whenever she was using her computer, someone else was controlling her actions. Convenient excuse perhaps?

 

When challenged that this is simply the result of the easy availability of so much unsavoury – and worse – material on the internet, Reverend Peasboro insisted that he knew for certain demons were at work – because he had come face to face with them.

He told a story of inspecting a computer believed to be possessed by an evil spirit when it began openly ‘talking’ to him. It typed out, “Preacher, you are a weakling and your God is a damn liar.” It then started to go berserk and printed out what looked like nonsense. He then consulted an expert in dead languages who studied it and reported back that the text contained a stream of obscenities written in a 2,800 year old Mesopotamian dialect.

Of course more recently, we are being warned to be wary of our smart household appliances. They are spying on us, apparently. That air fryer sitting so innocently in a corner of your kitchen awaiting its next batch of fried chicken is actually quietly amassing (and passing on) data on your eating habits and maybe much more.

Do you ever find yourself thinking you just fancy a glass of refreshing, chilled white wine only to boot up your laptop and up pops an ad with some special offer on a case of Chardonnay? Is this the devil at work? More likely Alexa has been eavesdropping on you or that pesky air fryer again, or maybe, just maybe, you inadvertently visited some supermarket website recently and lingered a little in the drinks 'aisle'. None of these? Well, did you discuss your desires with anyone - and was the air dryer or maybe the washing machine 'listening'? Of course, if it's only shopping ideas, you probably haven't much to worry about...but if something more sinister manifests on your screen, start with an IT technician. If that doesn't work, find out the number of your local exorcist. 

Are we looking at demons possessing our technology? You decide.

Meanwhile...

‘Fear her now, fear the queen,

As in her stone she reigns supreme'

When Jonathan agrees to accompany his girlfriend, Nadia, on a trip to Landane, he imagines a short relaxing break in the countryside. But he quickly discovers that Nadia isn’t just drawn to the ancient Neolithic stone circle, she is obsessed by the megaliths. One in particular holds a fascination for her. Within hours, her personality begins to change, and it isn’t long before Jonathan starts to fear for her sanity.

Reaching far back into the past and up to the present day, those same stones have demonstrated powers beyond reason and, as Jonathan’s girlfriend becomes increasingly distant from reality, some of the ghosts of the past begin to reappear.

Now it isn’t only Nadia who is in danger.

Available from: 

Amazon

Flame Tree Press

Barnes and Noble

Waterstones

Bookshop.org

and wherever you usually shop for books

Images:

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Flame Tree Press

 

It Was a Dark and Stormy (January) Evening...

 ...and, to make matters worse, Liverpool FC were playing at home in the European Cup!

(James Lefebure and me)

But despite all the odds against it, we had a fantastic evening at my book launch at Waterstones, Liverpool on the 21st January.

My intrepid friend, James Lefebure (author of The Books of Sarah) was in the chair and kept me mostly in order, except when the subject turned to the first scary stories I had ever read as a child. Here is where I normally wax lyrical about the multiple merits of The Monkey's Paw by W.W. Jacobs (which, if you haven't read, please do so, it's out of copyright and free on the internet and is all round brilliant). I said, as always, that I first read this at the age of around eight or nine at school. Kept me awake I can tell you, and put me off taxidermy for life.

But I veered off from that into an apparently innocuous and charming book we also read that year at school - Finn Family Moomintroll by Finland's Tove Jansson. You may have seen one of the animated versions of The Moomins and be familiar with Moomintroll, his Mamma and Pappa, his girlfriend the Snork Maiden, best friend Snufkin... So far, so charmingly sweet. But, as Moomin readers will know, there is a darker side of Moominvalley and its environs. There's a creature called the Groke, who is solitary, looks scary and turns up at night. She sits, unmoving, and when she goes away again the ground on which she has been sitting is...frozen. AARGH! Moomintroll is scared of her - and so was eight-year-old me. This was a dive-under-the-blanket moment for sure.

And then we got to the Hattifatteners. These creatures were affected by thunderstorms and became electrified. They could give you a nasty shock. More AAAAARGHS! But, how do you describe a Hattifattener to the uninitiated? I asked my hairdresser, Karl, who is from Shetland and, like me, a true Moomin aficionado. He said they had always reminded him somewhat of wavy condoms. Well, this reinforced my own feeling that, if you look at the illustrations the author did of them, they resemble penises...with jazz hands and staring eyes. 

Did I say this? In public? At Waterstones in Liverpool at around 7.00 pm?

(Can you spot the Hattifatteners and the Groke?)

Of course I did!

The audience laughed.

I wasn't banned from Waterstones.

And now you simply have to read Tove Jansson, don't you? 

Huge thanks to all who came, braved the elements and potential football crowds, and even bought books. Massive appreciation and thanks to James Lefebure, and to Phil Larner and Waterstones, Liverpool for making it all possible. Thank you to my lovely publisher, Flame Tree Press for the super prizes and for being who you are.

Congratulations to Simon and Cate Bestwick who won the gorgeous prizes provided by Flame Tree Press (in association with The Henge Shop in Avebury)

Oh, and in case you were wondering, Liverpool beat Lille 2-1. Result all round I'd say!

So, what were we launching?

Available from: 

Amazon

Flame Tree Press

Barnes and Noble

Waterstones

Bookshop.org

and wherever you usually shop for books

The Stones of Landane Are Here - Come and Meet Them (And Me)

 

After months of waiting, it's finally here. The Stones of Landane is now out in the world!

My official launch takes place on TUESDAY, JANUARY 21st at 6.30p.m. to be precise, and the lovely people at Waterstones, Liverpool One, are making it all happen.

In the chair, asking questions and keeping me from wandering off down all sorts of meandering roads, will be my friend and fellow author, JAMES LEFEBURE. What is he going to ask me? You would have to ask him that, or better still, come along and see for yourself but here's a little sneak preview into what I intend to wangle into our conversation (by fair means or not so fair):

* The long and winding road that led to The Stones of Landane

*  'It was the mice what done for it' (thereby hangs a tale. Or tail?)

* Of ley lines, stone circles and Aubrey Burl

* The magic and mystery of Avebury

Obviously, there will be more. Some of it may even be true. One thing is certain, if you can make it to Waterstones for the book launch, you will be eligible to win a bundle of beautiful prizes provided by Flame Tree Press in conjunction with a shop I always visit (and never come out of empty-handed) whenever I visit Avebury, namely - The Henge Shop

As I write this, the silver moonstone pendant (which is utterly gorgeous, by the way) is sold out on their website so this is your only chance to get your hands on one and, believe me, you'll want to. It's beautiful.

You'll also see a bag of mixed stone runes which the  Henge Shop describes as: Made using mixed tumble stones. These can vary from a mixture of Tiger Eye, Obsidian, Blue Agate, Amethyst, Rose Quartz and more....

This set consists of 25 crystal runes in a beautifully made satin-lined velvet bag. The runic symbols are engraved into the crystal and there is one left blank. The engraving is then inlaid with gold paint.

From Flame Tree Publishing comes the Tree of Life Notebook. Every writer needs to carry one of these around because you truly never know when an idea is going to strike you and unless you write it down then and there, trust me, you won't remember it. 

Ideas frequently come thick and fast when you're reading, and the Folk Horror Short Stories Collection from Flame Tree Press will keep you chilled, thrilled, inspired and entertained with tales from: Linda D. Addison, V. Castro, John Connolly, Helen Grant, Kathryn Healy, H.R. Laurence, Alison Littlewood, Lee Murray, Adam L.G. Nevill, Cavan Scott, Christina Sng, Benjamin Spada, Stephen Volk, Jen Williams, Katie Young and B. Zelkovich.

I hope you can make it to the inspiring city of Liverpool and my book launch on the 21st. Meanwhile, here's a little taster from the beginning of The Stones of Landane:

Nadia 

 The (Almost) Present

'It seemed I had always known them, those magnificent sarsens towering above my head. I nearly convinced myself that I had been created by them. That somehow, incredible and impossible as it might seem, they had given birth to me. How stupidly fanciful is that? Yet now, as I drive closer, I feel that old rush of excitement flowing through my veins as it has since…well, forever.

It’s a feeling, a real sense of coming home. And I know that sounds crazy. Here we are in the south of England, yet I have lived all my life in the north, two hundred and fifty miles away. But much as I love the Pennines and their rugged beauty, I never felt I truly belonged there. Recently, I have come to realize that, only when I am in Landane, surrounded by those ancient stones, do I feel grounded, at home, where I belong. Even if it isn’t always easy.

Safe? Is that the right word? Maybe not safe exactly but…protected, shielded from something I don’t understand. Something I have never understood. It exists on the edge of my sight. I can’t quite see it, but it’s there. Like a fleeting shadow. When it happens, it’s for a split second only. So fleeting that I am left unsure of whether it even happened. And it can occur at any time, without warning. Like that day at work…. I don’t have a fancy job. I work as a sales assistant in a branch of a chain of high street pharmacies. One day, I was advising a customer on which type of moisturizer might suit her best when, out of the corner of my eye, it…whatever it was…flashed by. I let out a little cry. I didn’t mean to. It just happened and it scared the wits out of the poor woman. Next thing, she summoned the manager. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Nadia,” he said, so I suppose I must have. And he wasn’t far off the truth anyway...

We have just whizzed past a road sign. Landane’s only five miles away. Beside me, my partner, Jonathan, has fallen asleep…

Four miles now. My nerve endings are tingling. It’s as if the stones are calling to me. They always have. It’s been two years but I always knew I would return. They knew too. I only wish it wasn’t under such sad circumstances but…well, I’m here now and this time feels different, as if something important is going to happen. No, important isn’t a strong enough word. Life-changing. Monumental….

Jonathan stirs. He opens his eyes, yawns and stretches. “This looks familiar,” he says. I wish he could sound more enthusiastic. Both sides of the road are bordered by fertile hedges, resplendent in their bright green spring foliage. It’s late April and the sun is shining.

It’s late April and I’m coming home.'

Click the link for full details: An Evening with Catherine Cavendish

The Stones of Landane

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