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Sunday, 27 April 2014

The Girl who Couldn’t Dream



There were wild horses on the hill, assorted coloured oblongs punctuating the flat green slope. They looked like something straight out of dream, she thought, although she had never experienced one.

Her nights were matt black and uneventful, her slumber long and lifeless, but she always rose with a heavy head, as if she hadn’t slept at all. Where did her thoughts go as she slept? As soon as her head touched the pillow, it was like she lost herself.  She wondered if her mind left her body because she was so unaware of everything as she lay in her bed.

Her waking life was very different, her thoughts drifted through the day, time gently melting away as she glided through each experience. She would flit from one thought to the next, like a bee amongst flowers. Concentration didn’t come easy when she was awake.

There were wild horses on the hill – just a moment ago. Her eyes ran up and down the green and across the edges. The horses had gone. Had she imagined them?

Maybe she experienced things the wrong way round. Maybe she lived in a dream.

Nisha P Postlethwaite is author of 'The First Sense' fiction eBook based in the Lake District and Cumbria, available from several online retailers. To find out more visit www.nppostlethwaite.com

On twitter I'm  @nppostlethwaite



Please don't forget to like The First Sense on Facebook 


Tuesday, 15 April 2014

The Tales of Finndragon Kindle Countdown Tour

Richie Earl is a self-published author of young adult fantasy fiction. Welcome to his blog tour, with a fantastic discount giveaway for his novels at the end of his guest blog ...



       My name is Richie Earl and I’m the author of the Tales of Finndragon, young adult fantasy series. I’d like to thank Nisha for hosting this leg of my Kindle Countdown Tour. I hope that some of her readers might be want to take advantage of the discounted prices. I hope you enjoy the short excerpt which follows this brief synopsis.

       Finndragon's Curse:

       “Your castle, kingdom and everything in it shall sink into the earth and be set upon by monsters and demons until the end of time, and never be seen again!”

       The Legend of Finndragon’s Curse is an original and unique fantasy adventure, which will appeal primarily to older children and teens, but also adult readers who like a bit of escapism. It is the story of three ordinary children, Emma, Megan, Scott and their pet dog Bones in their quest to find their father, who has been missing for nearly a year.
       The story is based on an ancient Welsh legend which has been kept alive by bedtime stories for countless generations. The two sisters and their brother unravel the riddle of an ancient scroll. This helps them find the gateway that leads to a 6th century Welsh kingdom in search of their dad. The scroll states that anyone who stays in the kingdom for more than a year can never leave. The journey through the gateway is a mini-adventure in itself; involving finding their way through a maze of caves, and ends with them entering the magnificent medieval Castell y Mynydd.

       In this extract, Emma, Megan and Scott have only just arrived at the castle.

       Emma beckoned them both to one of the windows and they all looked through the narrow slit. They were all once again speechless.
       They were looking out from a high window, with the ground about fifty feet below. There were lots of people in ragged, medieval clothing going about their business. Two men were pulling a handcart laden with a bulging cloth sack. Another was chasing a small piglet, who kept evading his would be catcher by running in and out of his bow legs. High on the castle walls were a small number of armour clad sentries, keeping a vigilant watch.
       Many others hurried to and fro across the cobbled courtyard, seemingly too busy to stop and talk. Considering the number of people below, there was an eerie silence. There were some sounds that reached their window, such as a piglet’s squeal and the rattle of wooden wheels on cobblestone, but not much else.
       Within an instant that all changed as a loud, ear piercing klaxon sounded from somewhere within the castle. Everyone below left what they were doing and ran towards the tall stone buildings surrounding the courtyard.
       As the people entered their dwellings, there was the sound of heavy doors slamming shut and large bolts being pushed into place.
       The castle walls were heaving with soldiers. All wearing chain mail, protective clothing consisting of small metal rings linked together, they were holding large, heavy swords and long sharp spears, while others held bows already primed with arrows. Some of the soldiers faced away from the castle while as many again faced inwards from the battlements.
Emma, Megan, Scott and Bones peered from their vantage point.
       Suddenly they all heard a noise like none they’d heard before. It started quietly, but within moments it was terrifyingly loud and sounded like the beating of drums. Then they saw the source of the noise.
      A swarm of winged creatures twice the size of a man descended from the red sky, circled the castle and attacked from all directions at the same time. Their wing span was at least twice the creatures’ height. Two small legs dangled from each and two powerful, muscular arms sprouted from long, thin torsos. They had a pair of piercing green eyes set high in their bony heads, no visible nose and a beak-like mouth. Their ears seemed to be just small holes in the sides of their heads and their skin was brown and reptilian in nature.
      The fearsome creatures set upon some stragglers in the courtyard, battering them with huge wooden clubs. The unfortunate victims hurtling great distances through the air before hitting the ground with a bone-shattering judder.
      The archers, who missed their targets more often than not, were being attacked from all sides by demons that flew straight at them, swatting away with their clubs. Their armour clad comrades were trying to stave off attackers in order to let the archers do their jobs. Many of the archers were knocked off the ramparts to almost certain death below.
       The whole attack lasted no more than ninety seconds, before the demons retreated as quickly as they’d arrived. Emma was trembling as she turned to look at Megan and Scott, her look of terror mirrored in their faces.
       “Oh my God, those men didn’t have a chance. Those creatures were so quick. They must have killed hundreds!”
       Nobody answered, but they reluctantly returned their gaze to the carnage below, where they could see the full extent of the slaughter. Countless bodies lay at the foot of the high castle walls, tended to by the women of the castle. The surviving soldiers remained at their posts, searching the sky for a second wave of attackers.
       None came, and after a minute or so another klaxon sounded the all clear. Now only the sentries remained on the ramparts, as the other soldiers went to help care for the wounded and dying below.
Emma, Megan, Scott and Bones shrank back into the middle of the room, trying to put some distance between themselves and the events they had witnessed.
       “We should go straight home, NOW!” Megan cried. “What chance do we have of staying alive in this place, let alone of finding Dad, if he’s still alive, that is?”
       “Don’t talk like that, Meg. Of course he’s alive and we can’t give up that easily; besides, we don’t know how to get back.”
       They all thought about that last statement, its implications gradually sinking in. Emma’s mind was working overtime now. They’d only planned up until the point which they had now reached. How on Earth could they have planned beyond? Okay they had an outline of a plan: get here, find Dad, and get home. All their preparation had gone into getting here, now they had to think on their feet and think quickly too.

Kindle Countdown Promotion - up to 67% discount. The Legend of Finndragon's Curse is on offer 15th-21st April.
Return to Finndragon's Den is on offer 21st-28th April.


Available to purchase from:

Amazon - for kindle
The Legend of Finndragon's Curse:   http://viewBook.at/FinndragonsCurse

Return to Finndragon's Den:              http://viewBook.at/ReturntoFinndragonsDen

Lulu Publishing - paperback:          http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/finndragon

Links
One Thousand Worlds in One Thousand Words blog:           http://onethousandworlds.blogspot.co.uk/

Tales of Finndragon Facebook Page:              https://www.facebook.com/finndragonscurse

Goodreads Author Page:        https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6523833.Richie_Earl

Twitter (@finndragons):         https://twitter.com/finndragons

Book Trailer:               http://youtu.be/gXeh-pzIHSI


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Thursday, 3 April 2014

What Do Writers Dream Of?


I’m lying inside our van, horizontal but not laid straight, listening to the world wake up. The darkness has various shades due to a jagged strip of stormy light seeping through a break in the curtain. 

As the night's excesses wear off, my head throbs relentlessly; my mouth’s bone dry no matter how much water I sip. My mind races on.

Normality picks up a pace outside but I try to ignore the muffled sounds and any thought of thoughts in case they string together into meaning. Reality is still slanted and slurred inside the metal can.

I am physically shattered, but real rest escapes me, instead there’s shattered sleep sliced with shards of fragmented memories: fraught thoughts, blurred lines, snippets of broken conversation and mismatched words. Time slowly ticks by and I cannot help reflect on everything past.

My eyes flicker open and I’m faced with drops of condensation slowly edging down the inside of the glass. I blow out bursts of frosty vapour while my warm legs twitch relentlessly under the duvet.  

As my mind slides in and out of consciousness, it’s hard to pick apart what is real or false, or if I'm actually sleep.  

What do writers dream of? A voice inside my head asks.

I answer carefully. When asleep, not a lot. Our sleep is scattered, our minds overly-active. We churn conversations, memories and aspirations over (and over) in our heads. Our thoughts are too furious for uninterrupted rest.

What do writers dream of? The voice asks again. Don’t they dream?

I open my eyes. 

Yes we dream. We dream more than most, but usually when we’re awake.  

Nisha P Postlethwaite is author of 'The First Sense' fiction eBook based in the Lake District and Cumbria, available from several online retailers. To find out more visit www.nppostlethwaite.com

On twitter I'm  @nppostlethwaite
Don't forget to like The First Sense on Facebook