Friday, 10 January 2025

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, Neil Gaiman, 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
is available from:

and wherever you usually shop for books


Images:

Flame Tree Press

Shutterstock

Tuesday, 17 December 2024

We Lived With A Ghost

I have often been asked (understandably, given the nature of what I write) if I believe in ghosts. I answer, ‘yes’. The next question is invariably. ‘Have you ever seen one?’ Again, ‘yes’ is my response. People want details. I tell them, but, of course such phenomena can be explained away by the sceptical. ‘A trick of the light’, ‘Your imagination playing tricks on you,’ or the incredulous look behind which lurks, ‘you’re weird’. All, of course, are quite possibly true (especially the latter), but I have seen and heard a lot of things I couldn’t quite so easily explain but, of course, in order to believe as I do, you simply had to be there.

A few years ago, we divided our time between a flat in north Wales and a house in Liverpool. The house in Liverpool contained nothing particularly ghostly – although I did once see the apparition of the cat I grew up with who, at that time, had been deceased for around four years. This was a happy experience which stayed with me for days, weeks even.

The flat in north Wales on the other hand… We lived with a ghost. There is no getting away from it. In fact the building itself continues to be haunted by more than one restless spirit – and one of them was caught on camera!


The building dates from the mid eighteenth century and has gone through many different configurations – as shops, dwelling places, a combination thereof and is now a club beneath with a two floor flat above. This was unoccupied for many years until we moved in following extensive renovations. Almost immediately things started to happen. And they were mostly homely, welcoming things, as if our invisible ‘visitor’ wanted to make us feel comfortable.

We would sometimes arrive to find the TV switched on, lights on and, before you say we had carelessly left them on before we left, we hadn’t. In fact, we had checked that everything was switched off just a few minutes before we left. And no, sorry, no-one else could have sneaked in and done it either!

Meanwhile, in another part of the building, used by the Club, other things were happening. In the Snooker Room, chalk was regularly moved, as were beer mats, and then, at around six one morning, my husband came down to our kitchen, whereupon he heard the distinctive sound of the gents’ toilet flushing. This is next to the Snooker Room and on the other side of our wall. He logged the time precisely, thinking that maybe the cleaners had arrived unusually early. 

When, mid-morning, he heard the sound of the Barman arriving to start his shift, my husband, who was Treasurer, went downstairs to the Club and asked to check the CCTV. Evidently the Cleaners had arrived later, at their usual time, so who had been in the Gents? Fortunately CCTV was trained on the area immediately outside. As he watched and, at precisely the same time as he had logged the flushing of the toilet, there was a distinctive, if fast-moving, waft of white smoke across the camera. He continued to watch. Nothing else happened. Other staff watched it. I watched it.

No one has yet been able to explain it. There was no one there or we would have seen them. The cameras were installed to ensure no hiding place for anyone entering or leaving the building and are motion activated. Yes, they were all in perfect working order when the incident happened.

Things continued to move from time to time in the Snooker Room and a couple of the bar staff were so unnerved by the goings-on there that they refused to go up there. One of the staff was certain he heard his name called one night when he was locking up after everyone had gone home. So certain in fact that he answered. There was no one there.

 

 A psychic-medium was shoved violently when she entered the room (with no prior knowledge of its reputation). I was pushed violently backwards and forwards before being thrown off the stair. The injuries I sustained were so severe, the doctors at the hospital couldn’t believe only one step was involved. I didn’t go into all the detail of being shoved and pushed this way and that before the fall occurred. I had no witnesses and who would believe me? My arm was badly broken and I had a bone scan, as they wondered whether my bones were brittle. The tests showed np sign of this. I never retuned to that room.

Thankfully, the ghost in our flat was always friendly. My husband was often aware of her moving around when he was there alone, and there was the curious incident of the washing machine – the detergent drawer was mysteriously and impossibly pushed out when it was operating one day. For all the years we lived there though, neither of us ever felt threatened in that flat.

I was sorry to leave, and wished our ghostly flatmate well. Is she still there looking after whoever has moved in? Sadly, to the best of my knowledge, no one lives in that flat now. She’s all alone up there…

In Landane, ghosts mingle with the living, and the circle of stones guards its secrets well.

‘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. 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.

What is the secret of the prehistoric standing stones of Landane? What lies within them? And why does an ancient piece of folklore ring so true?

 Publishing on January 14th, 2025

Amazon

Flame Tree Press

Barnes and Noble

and/or wherever you shop for books

 Book Launch!

Waterstones, Liverpool One 

Tuesday January 21st at 6.30p.m.

Join me in conversation with James Lefebure (author of The Books of Sarah)

Full details: 

An Evening with Catherine Cavendish

 

 Images:

Flame Tree Studio

Shutterstock

Wednesday, 27 November 2024

Secrets of Avebury's Stone Circles

 

Unlike the far more compact Stonehenge, Avebury is huge. It’s also quite difficult to imagine its structure at ground level -  much easier looking down on it from the air. Then you can see the larger outer circle and twin inner circles, the ditch, bank and avenues running off, in serpentine fashion. 

These avenues were surely followed by countless generations of our prehistoric ancestors as they processed to the centre, but for what purpose we can only speculate. The seasons would have been critical to them, the changing weather patterns, passage of the sun, even the earth’s magnetic forces would surely have resonated more strongly with them than with us. I venture to suggest that we need our sophisticated technology to capture and interpret signals from the world around us that our ancestors would have been capable of receiving naturally. In our incessant progress we have probably lost much of our innate power; the fine-tuned senses that enable animals to correctly predict the advent of severe weather or catastrophe long before we have an inkling.

 Whatever the reason for their creation, stone circles and lone standing stones are a fact. We can see and touch them and, in the U.K. we are fortunate to be blessed with so many, the length and breadth of the land and on the furthest islands off our coasts. In fact, recent archeology up in Orkney (Ness of Brodgar) is throwing up evidence that the culture that built the stone circles originated from far up north, spreading downwards as people travelled and brought their beliefs and practices with them.

 

These beliefs must have been hugely important to them and included a ritual of the dead, judging by the burials that have been discovered. So when Christianity came along, it as inevitable that a clash would occur between the two opposing sets of belief. And that, as the victor, the powerful hierarchy in the established Christian church, where schisms had already occurred, should go all out to destroy anything that didn’t chime with the exact tenets of its belief. Anything that wasn’t deemed Christian was automatically a threat. It was inevitable that it wouldn’t be too long before attention was turned to the stone circles. And soon it was Avebury’s turn.

Legends and myths had grown up around these megaliths. Ghosts. Strange lights. Sounds. The stones were deemed evil. They must be destroyed. And in the 14th century, the villagers set about trying to obliterate them from their landscape. They couldn’t shift them manually. Besides, surely it had taken the devil and his minions to plant them there in the first place so if they couldn’t do that, they could burn them. Or bury them. Or both. And that is what they set out to do, digging pits, toppling the stones into them and covering them over. It was dangerous work. At least one man died – the most famous being a Barber Surgeon, so named because of the tools that were found with him, although he may simply have died and been buried under that stone. He was found during excavations by marmalade heir Alexander Keiller in 1938, still interred under the stone that now bears his name.

For some reason, the villagers stopped felling and burying the stones, leaving the job only partly done. Maybe there were more fatalities. It was just too dangerous. The spirits were angry and likely to bring their wrath down to bear on the entire village. Best leave them well alone.

Or maybe… What if the stones were incorporated into the fabric of the church? Wouldn’t that help to somehow cleanse the evil? Certainly, in the seventeenth century, some of the stones was chipped away for use in the building of the chapel but greater use of the stones came a century later. An infamous builder by the name of Tom Robinson decided he would build some houses, using the sarsen stone from the felled stone circles. He employed a workforce to burn and smash the stones for building material. He complained at the cost of this operation, reckoning it at £4 per stone owing to the manpower needed to lever the stones into the burning pits, the costly equipment which often failed or caught fire and needed to be replaced and all before the cottages were even constructed.

Tom Robinson was not a popular man. He was reported by contemporary historian, William Stukeley who called him the Herostratus of Avebury for his destructive habits and his apparent glorying in the destruction. Apparently the man was not morally sound in his eyes either as he had ‘got his wife (an old woman above 50) with child.’ Robinson’s cottages were built but it appears the spirits of the stones avenged themselves for soon after they were completed, they were mysteriously destroyed n a fire and had to be demolished – at an even greater cost to Robinson. No doubt Mr Stukeley celebrated when he heard the news.

The use – or abuse – of the stones continued into the nineteenth century but not without incident. One man, a cobbler, who had been working on one of the stones, moved away and almost instantly the stone toppled and would have crushed him to death had he still been sitting there. Another tried to haul away a heavy stone he had earmarked for a millstone only to discover he couldn’t move it, even with his best team of twenty oxen. It ‘broke all his tackle to pieces’. It refused to be shifted by any means and he had to leave it where it lay. Other though were more successful and bits of sarsen can be found incorporated into buildings of the period all over the area

And as for religion. It seems the spirits and forces of nature combine on occasion. A parish clerk sheltered from the worst of a terrific thunderstorm, by standing close up to one of the stones. As he moved away, a bolt of lightning struck that very stone, cleaving it. The parish clerk, much chastened, hurried away convinced he had come within an inch of being killed by forces he could only guess at.

Today, life seems less fraught for the stones. Many have been re-erected, largely thanks to Alexander Keiller’s mammoth efforts back in the 1930s. The ghosts continue to be reported from time to time. Spirit dancers, voices singing when there is no one there. Mysterious lights, anomalous magnetic readings, strange sensations experience by people who touch the surface of the stones and, of course the mists. It is a landscape prone to such mists – especially early morning when the conditions are right. Yet, however explicable those white, swirling fogs are, it takes but a tiny glimmer of imagination to see figures dancing, swaying, undulating to some long forgotten chant.

The stones at Avebury hold many secrets and they don’t intend to give them up any time soon.

My latest novel is inspired by these magical stones:

 ‘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. 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.

What is the secret of the prehistoric standing stones of Landane? What lies within them? And why does an ancient piece of folklore ring so true?

 

Publishing on January 14th, 2025

 (available for pre-order now (ebook, paperback, hardback)

 Amazon

Flame Tree Press

 Barnes and Noble

 Waterstones

 Bookshop.org

 and/or wherever you shop for books

 Images:

Flame Tree Press

Shutterstock

Abe Books

 

 

Monday, 2 September 2024

The Haunted Pub in Avebury's Stone Circle

It is no secret that my new novel – The Stones of Landane – is inspired by the prehistoric landscape of Avebury in Wiltshire, with its impressive stone circles dating back thousands of years. Legends abound in the small village and the place is so full of ghosts, they almost crowd out the many thousands of tourists who arrive curious and leave shaking their heads in wonder.

 

Avebury has been a place of habitation for millennia so it is no surprise that one of the most haunted locations is the village pub - The Red Lion - which used to be residential but, sadly, is no more. These days it is very much a place to meet, drink and eat in its cosy surroundings and has become much busier than I remember from my first acquaintance some forty or more years ago. There are always gains and losses when a traditional pub undergoes radical renovation in order to accommodate the changing preferences of its target market and I do wonder what its plethora of ghosts make of it all. It would appear that, by and large, they have emerged unscathed and unruffled and continue to go about their daily business.

So who are they, this merry (or not so merry) band of haunters?

First off, there’s a transient visitor that passes near the 17th century building– a ghostly carriage and horses that is the harbinger of bad fortune. Thankfully, its appearances are rare as it signals the death of a close relative.

Then there’s Florrie. Oh, she’s a tragic lady. Back in the days of the English Civil War, her husband returned home unexpectedly from the fighting to discover her in the arms of another man. Angered beyond reason, he killed her lover, slit Florrie’s throat and dragged her body off to the well. This well, by the way is still there, now illuminated, covered by glass and serving as a fascinating drinks table in the restaurant.

Meanwhile, poor Florrie haunts the pub, searching for her lover or her husband (versions differ) but whoever it was had a beard. Men with such facial hair can expect to find themselves targeted. She has been known to make her presence felt by causing a chandelier to twirl…over the head of a bearded customer.

In one of the bedrooms, two ghost children cower in the corner while a woman sits writing at a table busy with her task and appearing unconcerned by their distress. Maybe they are hauntings existing on two distinct plains and are unaware of each other. Certainly their origins are unclear.

Add to these the many orbs, moving shadows with no known origins, cold spots and host of other phenomena and it is without a doubt that The Red Lion at Avebury can lay claim to be, if not the oldest, then certainly one of the most haunted pubs – and the only one to exist wholly within a circle of prehistoric standing stones.

Want to visit? Here’s the Website

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. 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.

What is the secret of the prehistoric standing stones of Landane? What lies within them? And why does an ancient piece of folklore ring so true?


Publishing on January 14th, 2025

(available for pre-order now (ebook, paperback, hardback)






and/or wherever you shop for books

 Images:

Flame Tree Press

Shutterstock