An excerpt fom Book II, the Monster Purge

Hello everyone. #fridayreads is upon us again and many of us are deciding what we will read this weekend. I am reading a couple books I plan to review. My reviews will be coming soon.

I am also working hard at writing the second book in my Adventures of Phippen Abercrombie series. I am several chapters in and I feel I am ready to share one of them with you now.

In this book a dark and malicious presence has contaminated the collection of jars in Phippen's pantry. his evil creature feels a hatred of children and wishes to punish the children of the world for a perceived wrong done to it by one child.

Many pets have been disappearing. Unnoticed for some time until children start vanishing as well.

Destry Grey and his younger sister Rylar, have become aware of this plot and are tasked by Professor Abercrombie to stop it if they can. Each will need to use their unique gifts if they are to successful.

So if you will indulge me, here is the first look at The Adventures of Phippen Abercrombie, Book II: the Monster Purge.

Chapter 1

The House on Cutler Street

           

 The abandoned house on Cutler Street loomed, as always, dark, empty, and ominous. Blackened windows, like the soulless eyes of the undead, weighed down on fifteen year old Everett Turner as he approached. He felt them as sure as he felt the knot of fear twisting in his stomach, as sure as he felt the sudden need to go to the bathroom. He knew he would have to shuffle past as quickly as possible.

Everett generally avoided this route from his friend Cameron’s house but he was running late tonight. He had stayed longer than he should have. The sweet siren song of a new video game is irresistible to a certain type of boy at a particular age. They had been killing zombies with reckless abandon when Everett looked up and saw the darkening sky pressing in on the windows. He felt a lurch in his stomach as he realized he would need to take Cutler Street home to make it in time. He grabbed his back-pack and was out the door in a flash.

He stole a furtive glance at the slumbering beast and wished he was back in his friend’s room. He wished he was at home in his bed. He wished he was one hundred feet ahead and already beyond this horror of a house. However, wishing would not make it so. With no alternative, he continued to amble along the deserted street trying not to look at the weathered, three storey Tudor house. As if by denying its existent he could rob it of its frightful power. But the house would not be denied tonight.

Although the blackened windows and old gnarled trees were alarming enough, these were not what made this house particularly frightening to Everett, and the many neighbourhood kids who avoided Cutler Street. This house was by far the most feared and talked about place to all the children in town. The old house was the stuff of legend and nightmares.

It was not the fact that no one could ever remember seeing a light on at the house or a single person ever coming and going. Nor was it the overgrown garden, weeds, grasses and countless old rose bushes gone to seed throughout the property. It was something else in the yard.

Two enormous, derelict, overturned ship hulls flanked the house. The first of which Everett was now coming alongside. The hulking masses were draped in rotten, moss covered canvas. In the dark they looked like immense burial mounds. Fifty feet long, fifteen feet wide and twelve feet tall, they loomed over the yard. Not a soul in town knew why they were there but every child knew about them. They had all grown up hearing the stories about the bodies that were buried beneath them. How the owner of the house had come out at night and had dragged children from their beds as they slept and had taken them back to be imprisoned beneath the hulls for the rest of eternity.

All the homes on the west side of the Cutler Street had frontage on the lake. Most were very large, owned by wealthy families from Carson or Valmont, the largest cities within driving distance. This picturesque, lakeside community was an irresistible draw in the warmer months. It was late summer now and most of the houses along the lake were still busy with weekend visitors and vacationers from the city. Yet the house with the inverted hulls was always empty, winter, spring, summer and fall. No one in living memory, as far as any soul in town could tell, had crossed the threshold of the house on Cutler Street for years.

Everett knew, because he was a very smart boy, that when you passed the yard at night, alone and in the silence, you could hear the fingernails of the undead children, twisted and gnarled by the passing years and the clawing at the inside of the wooden ship hulls. He hummed to himself now and willed his eyes to remain on the road ahead. He would show no sign of acknowledging the house or its tombs.

Yet still, one ear listened intently, scanning for even the slightest sound. None came.

Ahead, on the road, he saw a movement. Something small was in the narrow lane crossing toward the yard of the shadowy house. It was a puppy. The small dog was limping, favouring one of its front paws. It was moving steadily toward the overgrown and weed infested yard. It moved as if drawn to the house; as if in a trance.

Everett picked up his pace as he passed the first ship’s hull, now unaware of it crouched to his right. All his senses were focused on the puppy. He wasn’t sure why, but he did not want the dog getting anywhere near the abandoned house. Perhaps it was nothing more than companionship in a wretched place that spawned Everett’s concern for the helpless creature.

“Here boy,” he called quietly to the small dog as it stepped over the curb and into the yard.

The dog did not look at Everett it simply started to push its way through the overgrown foliage. The boy was soon at the place where the dog had entered the yard. He stopped and looked up at the house. He called again to the dog. It didn’t look back.

Everett was in the middle of the yard looking up the pathway to the stone steps and the massive oak door beyond. He was midway between the two hulking mounds that were the inverted hulls. He looked up at the house, at the small black, dormered windows in the attic room on the third floor. He tried not to imagine what it would be like in that room. What monstrous entity was gazing back down at him from within the gloom hoping he would be foolish enough to come closer? Was it the old man who preyed upon the innocent children who had gone missing over the years? The same old man that had dragged the terrified young ones from the security of their beds and entombed them beneath those godforsaken rotten hulls?

Everett looked from one hull to the other. Why would anyone have those? He wondered.  A shudder ran down his spine and he looked away, back into the overgrown yard.

The puppy was limping off to the right as if it intended to go around the house to the lake side. To do this it would need to come very close to one of the hulls. Everett didn’t like this. His stomach flipped and he wished once again that there was a public washroom nearby.

He stepped off the lane and onto the lawn. He felt a surge of energy run through his body; an electric tingle charging up and down his spine from the top of his messy hair to the bottom of his sneaker clad feet. Surely that must be his imagination. Anticipation and fear manifest in an uncontrollable shivering sensation all over his entire body. He nearly doubled over, sick from the feeling of it. He was about to turn and run from the yard, from the house, from the rotten hulls which haunted Cutler Street. He had made up his mind to leave when he heard the puppy whimper from somewhere around the side of the house. Everett hesitated and in that moment he knew he could not leave the poor animal to its fate.

He turned back. He looked up at the house. He took a deep breath to calm himself and stepped forward into the yard.

"Here boy," he called in his sweetest, dog beckoning tone. "Come on little guy, don't be afraid."

He made kissing noises with his mouth which he knew would often work with animals. Not this time. He could no longer see the dog. It had gone around the side of the house, past the hull, towards the lake.

He followed still gently calling as he went. When he came up to the end of the hull closest to the house, the only sounds were his own voice, a faint whimpering from the puppy in the weeds nearby and a rustling from the wind in the trees overhead. The only light was the diminishing amber glow of the street lamps back on Cutler and pale blue moonlight coming from across the lake around the front of the decrepit structure.

He passed between the bow of the hull and the corner of the house. He could smell a musty damp rot coming off the moss covered canvas draped on the overturned boat. He refused to look at it or the house as he called once again for the dog.

"Come on boy," he pleaded, his voice nearly cracking from the strain of fear. "Please, let's get out of here."

He listened intently for the puppy as he gazed through moonlight shining from the lakeside of the house. The weeds on this side had taken over. Anything resembling a tended yard was little more than a distant memory.

Everett strained, trying to hear for the dog he could no longer see. There was nothing. Only silence. Then he heard something. Very faint at first like a rat in the walls clawing tunnels through the insulation. Everett leaned forward. He thought perhaps the injured dog had gone around to the front of the house and was scratching at the patio doors that led out onto the overgrown terrace. He looked around the corner. The wind had died. The lake was so calm there was no sound of the waves lapping at the shore. There was nothing on the terrace. No sign of the puppy. It seemed to have vanished.

Everett started to back away from the isolation of the lakeside and the quiet scratching noise. He needed to get back to the lane, back to safety.

The scratching, he knew what the scratching was. He fought to keep his mind from forming the thought. He subconsciously felt that if he acknowledged it he would have to deal with it. The sound grew louder as he edged back along the side of the house, back in the direction of the hull. He knew it would. But louder wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t so much louder as it was more abundant. He struggled against the reality of his situation but he could not push it away.

In the darkness they scratched and clawed only feet away from his position. Countless undead children trapped beneath the rotten canvas and wood. It was not the moldy old coverings, saturated with moss and mildew he could smell but the decay of the dead now trying desperately to take him down with them.

Everett was glued to the spot. He had turned to look at the hull, his back to the dark, empty house. The boat was now rattling and shaking. Whatever was beneath it would not be contained much longer. His young, terrified mind was screaming to run, but he could not move. Every fear he had ever imagined about the house on Cutler Street and every nightmare from which he had awoken, sweating and shaking, was coming true. This was exactly as he knew it would be.

He suddenly realized why he could not find the dog. There had been no dog. No limping puppy in need of help, he had been tricked. The house had fooled him, had lured him into its clutches and now he would be devoured.

The rotten hull lifted slightly. He could see it clearly in the amber street lights. Green, grey, rotten fingers, the flesh barely clinging to the bones reaching out from under the rim. Bloody at the tips from decades of clawing at the rotten wood inside the inverted tomb. In spite of himself Everett leaned forward, transfixed by what he saw. Numb with terror.

Run, run, RUN! His mind was screaming.

He turned to the street, his muscles coiled to spring into action. He would flee from here, back to his home, to his bed, to safety. He would never walk this street again. Never talk of this house or even allow himself to think of it.

His young, agile frame ready to launch itself from the yard, away from the hull and it's hungry, clawing inhabitants but something strong and unyielding grabbed him from behind.

He could not move an inch. His energy expended in a wasted effort to escape. Then he knew. Just then he knew as sure as he knew that there had been no dog. He knew that the moment he had stepped from the lane and into the yard all had been lost. He had broken the rules.

You never look under the bed, behind the shower curtain, in the closet. You never pull your head from beneath the covers; you never walk slowly up the stairs from the basement. You run two steps at a time and don't look back. And you never, ever, ever step off the lane and out of the street lights. There are rules and if you follow the rules the monsters do not get you. Everett had broken those rules tonight and for that he would pay a price.

Slowly he was turned by whatever powerful, undeniably terrible creature had a hold of him. His eyes came upon it in the dim light, he stumbled back as it let go and he fell to the ground at its feet.

Everett looked up into its bile yellow eyes. Its scaly lips curled back in a triumphant grin as the blackened, wretched, ominous, house on Cutler Street loomed in the background; the beasts willing accomplice. This thing belonged here and Everett knew, as it reached down to claim its prize, that he would never leave this place again.

I hope you enjoyed that. I expect to have he book completed by late spring or early summer. So check back often for progress reports and possible another excerpt or two.

**update** First draft is finally completed and being edited. Look for a release in early 2015

Also, if you haven't already done so please check out the eBook for Book I: the Dragon Egg Curse , if you would rather, it can be found here in paperback.

 

Image credits.

House:  An old abandoned house in southern Ontario, Canada (© Ron Erwin/Getty Images)

Old Boat: Burn Magazine

 

 

 

 

Nasty little Hobbitses...

I finally watched the Hobbit, An Unexpected Journey this weekend. I had very low expectations. ​Of course, I loved the Lord of the Rings movies. Simply the greatest fantasy adventure films ever made. Almost undeniably.

But something about the Hobbit wasn't sitting well with me.

The reviews were underwhelming and the trailers ​failed to get me fired up. The notion of turning this amazing, but smallish, novel into an nine hour+ epic seemed indulgent and unnecessary to say the least. So I did not go see it in the theaters. I missed the opportunity to watch it in 3D or 48 fps.

I was a fool. ​

I LOVED it! All 169 (too few) minutes of it was amazing. I did not want it to end. We were transported back to middle earth perfectly. Immersed, once again, completely in one of the greatest imaginations mankind has ever produced. I loved being there. I can't wait to go back. It was not simply a retread of familiar territory as it could have been. Yes there were familiar faces and sites but there were many more new ones. There was the playfulness which is characteristic of the novel here in full force and in opposition of the seriousness of the Lord of the Rings.

I felt the tone of the Hobbit was spot on for my feelings of the novel and I felt ​the expansion of the story, to take us deeper into that world, was executed perfectly. I mean, if you are going back to middle earth, than stop for a bit and take a look around. If we have decided to go to such expense to create this world again, then I want to spend as much time there as I possibly can. 

Perhaps, in some ways, this one was definitely more for the fans than the masses but I say it is all the better for it. I loved every minute detail and I can't wait to go back.

​The world outside my window just doesn't compare  to Peter Jackson's Middle Earth.

Happy #fridayreads with an excerpt

My last blog post ​was an excerpt from my book. It met with such a positive response I felt I would do the same again today. Perhaps it will become #fridayreads regular activity. My plan had been to post an excerpt from Book II today but I am just not quite ready to let that out yet. Soon though... :)

So without further ado let's get to the story. ​

Chapter 11

The Floating Lake

They awoke early and were on the path before the sun had risen. By torchlight armor had been donned and wagons packed. With weapons at the ready and courage stoked they headed for the floating lake. 

Kram had been very quiet. He had insisted the lake was nonsense since the Wizard had mentioned it. Now he was off to face it. By the fire light Cameron thought he looked even paler than usual. 

Drogno drove Swisser and Cameron was again beside him on the cold bench seat. Drenwa walked behind the cart with Kram and Phaelan walked along beside Cameron. Phaelan was leading her horse by the reigns.

Before long, they crested the pass and began the short trip down the rocky slope. The path in the trees that would take them under the lake lie ahead. Cameron’s heart was in his throat and he felt that he would not be able to speak, even if he had had something to say.

Phaelan also looked paler than usual. Cameron noticed she wore a look of courage on her face which he did not feel would be present on his own. Again, he was impressed by her strength. She looked over at him and gave him a small, crooked smile. It took him much effort to smile back but he felt better when he had. She placed her hand on the handle of her sword. Cameron did the same.

The sky had lightened slightly by the time they had entered the trees. The trees were small and widely spaced so it was easy to see the lake as they came closer to it. In the dim morning light it looked much larger than it had from up on the pass. As the first of the party came to the surface level of the lake, Cameron could see the water really was floating high above the trees.

It was like coming under a low lying fog. Yet it was thicker and moving as water does, ripples and waves crashing against the shore. However, in this case, there was no shore; just the air over their heads. The water was lapping up against the invisible bank and retreating within itself. The sight was surreal.

The party had been split in half with the wagons in the middle. Brogan and the King were taking the lead.  The knights immediately behind them were watching the path to clear any debris that might impede their passage. So far, the path was clean.

Cameron’s part of the group was coming under the lake now. The entire group was silent but for the sound of their movements. As the lake went high over their heads Cameron felt as if his heart would stop. He was certain everyone else could hear it pounding. 

Although it had been getting much lighter outside it was dark again under the lake. The mass of water over their heads did not allow much light through. The sun will be up soon he thought, and we will be able to see more clearly. But so will they. His mind added.

All the torches had been extinguished so going was slow in the dim light. The ground appeared to be very much like Cameron would have pictured the bottom of a lake to look, only if it had been dry for many years and vegetation had started to grow here and there. There were trees ten to fifteen feet tall. Cameron thought that soon they would grow into the water above their heads. He wondered what would become of the trees then.

The entire party was below the lake now. It was becoming bright enough to see each other's faces. The water overhead was becoming lighter. The sun would soon come over the mountain. Cameron hoped they would be past the lake by then. He looked ahead in the dim light. He did not think that was going to happen. There was no end in sight.

Cameron looked overhead. The sky was a moving, shimmering lake surface. He wondered how deep it was? The slate grey mass of water seemed to press down on them. Cameron began to feel a little claustrophobic.  What if the water stopped floating? They would all drown if the water came down on their heads. They would not have a chance; certainly the creatures in the lake would get them.

Just then a shadow passed overhead, something large and fast. He watched intently. Another passed. He looked over at Phaelan. She was tentatively looking up as well.

“Stay calm,” Drogno said quietly as he put his hand on Cameron’s knee.  “Keep a clear head. That will be our only chance to get out of here alive.”

Cameron nodded. He could not speak. He was terrified. 

He looked back at Drenwa and Kram. Kram was watching overhead as well, his sword in hand. More of the shadows could be seen moving around in the lake. Drenwa gave Cameron a curt nod and raised a clenched fist. Cameron nodded slightly.

He looked ahead and found he could see better now. It was getting much lighter. He wondered if the sun had come over the mountains. Many of the soldiers had arrows on the string. Others had loaded crossbows and the rest had their swords drawn. All kept at least one eye on the water above their heads.

Cameron could see Aodhan and Brogan at the head of the party and for some distance beyond them. Still, there was no sign they were coming to the end of the lake. They had been under the lake for at least a half hour. They must be nearly half way by Aodhan’s estimation.

The shadows overhead had stopped swimming aimlessly around and were definitely concentrated over them. Cameron had no doubt the Sclagg were aware of them; watching them, waiting for the right moment.

The archers had their bows pointed at the underside of the lake. There were about a dozen archers, including the cross-bows, and Cameron figured at least twice that many Sclagg. Even if each archer fatally hit a different Sclagg it would not be enough.

The sun was hitting the lake directly now and Cameron could see the creatures much more clearly.  Each was two or three times the size of a man. They looked like dark green ghosts. They appeared to be covered in long kelp-like seaweeds.  Cameron could not clearly see which part was the head.  They simply looked like large, living kelp beds.

As Cameron was looking up an arrow was released by one of the archers. It shot into the surface of the water overhead and the Sclagg that the archer had been aiming at easily shifted to one side and the arrow shot past it. The creature came to no more than an inch above the surface of the water over the archer who had released the arrow. The entire party had stopped moving.

All the Sclagg were motionless but for the flowing of the long weeds around their bodies. Quite suddenly, dozens of the tentacle like weeds shot out from the closest Sclagg and easily reached the archer twenty feet below. It was so fast the archer had no chance to respond. The tendrils engulfed his body and pulled him up into the lake. In one terrifying moment, the Sclagg was gone to another part of the lake, presumably to eat his prey. The whole thing took only seconds. Cameron barely had time to register what had happened when he heard Brogans voice.

“RELEASE YOUR ARROWS,” he roared at the archers, and to everyone else, “RUN.”

In the next moment all was chaos. A volley of arrows shot up into the lake just as hundreds of the tendrils flew down from the surface and grabbed whatever they touched.

Soldiers all around were being yanked from the ground and pulled into the lake. Phaelan, now on horseback, kicked her horse hard in the ribs and it bolted forward just as Drogno slapped Swisser's reins on the animal's back. Swisser needed no coaxing, he was already off. Cameron looked behind to check on Drenwa and Kram. They both had their swords out and were swinging wildly overhead as they ran.

Cameron saw some archers had hit their mark and some of the massive Sclagg were falling from the lake down onto their heads. When they hit the ground they squirmed clumsily like slimy, living masses of weeds. Their tentacles lashed out, slamming some of the soldiers who screamed in agony at the creature's touch. It seemed the tendrils would sting any bare skin they contacted.

Swisser navigated the cart through the falling Sclagg, around soldiers fighting the tentacles from above and the dying creatures on the ground. Phaelan was out ahead now running through the soldiers and avoiding the reach of the deadly tendrils as they blindly combed the ground looking for victims. Cameron was swinging his sword, cutting tentacles away from Drogno as he tried to keep Swisser and the cart heading in the same direction. 

Out the corner of his eye, Cameron saw Kram was being overwhelmed by tentacles as Drenwa tried to cut them away. He could hear Kram screaming as they stung his flesh. Suddenly, Kram was being hoisted up towards the water. Cameron could see Drenwa was helpless to save his friend. He turned and scanned for Phaelan. He saw her twenty yards ahead. Subconsciously, he noticed that about that distance again there was sunlight shining down and the valley floor was sloping up.

“PHAELAN,” he screamed at the top of his lungs.  “PHAELAN, HELP.”

Miraculously, she heard him over the sounds of soldiers and Sclagg fighting all around. She turned her head and Cameron pointed at Kram’s flailing form being pulled toward the lake. She turned her horse and started running. She soon realized she would never make it. She pulled a bow from the side of her saddle and in the blink of an eye had an arrow on the string and it was away. Years of training alongside her father paid off. The arrow sunk deep into thickest part of the Sclagg. 

The creature uttered a gurgling shriek and fell from the lake, tumbling and twisting through the air. Kram and the beast landed in a heap. Kram had stopped screaming and was struggling to pull himself from the tentacles of the dying monster. Drenwa had just managed to jump out from under the creature as it fell and now he had spun to help cut his friend from its grasp. He could see that Kram appeared to be going into shock and it looked as if his arm was badly broken.

Drogno swung the cart around and wove through the carnage back toward his friends. Just as he arrived at the now dead Sclagg, his brother was hoisting Kram from the severed tentacles. He threw the injured Graflander on the wagon and jumped up himself.

“GO,” Drenwa yelled over all the fighting, “GO NOW.”

Drogno whipped the reins again and the grosch bolted for the distant sunlight. Cameron could see that Phaelan had turned and was running out from under the lake. She was nearly at her father and the King's position. They were busy keeping the exit clear of Sclagg so that as many of their men who were able could leave. 

Cameron looked behind and could see the rear guard catching up to them. They were fighting back the seemingly endless supply of Sclagg which were now pursuing them. Cameron could see many soldiers were dead or missing. He hoped most of the missing had gotten clear of the lake and weren’t lost to its monstrous inhabitants.

He turned forward to see how far they had to go just in time to see the largest Sclagg he had yet seen emerge from over Phaelan’s head. She was unaware of its presence and could not see the tentacles dropping down from the floating lake reaching for her from behind.

“Phaelan!” Cameron yelled. “Behind you!”

But she could not hear him. She was too far and the fighting too noisy. Cameron looked over at Aodhan and Brogan. They were busy fighting to her left and could not see the danger she was in. He had to do something.

Before he knew what he was doing he got to his feet and leapt from the cart in the direction of Phaelan. Just as he hit the ground running the Sclagg wrapped its tendrils around the hind legs of Phaelan’s horse. In the blink of an eye the horse was pulled out from under the girl and she was flying through the air. She hit the ground hard and appeared to be unconscious.

Cameron ran harder, as fast as his legs could carry him. She was only fifteen yards ahead now. He had his sword drawn and he was screaming at her, his voice so raw now hardly a sound came out. 

He heard a horrible, screaming, terrified animal sound and looked up to see the massive horse being pulled into the floating lake. The horse’s eyes were white with terror as two Sclagg fought over it. The horse's screaming was instantly choked out when the monsters pulled it into the water.

Cameron looked back at Phaelan; he could not bear to see anymore. His horror was only heightened when he saw that another Sclagg was hanging over her, its deadly tentacles feeling blindly around her unconscious body. Cameron had seen enough death this day; he was not going to watch her die as well.

He came upon the Sclagg and started swinging with all his might, cutting every tentacle he hit. The beast turned its attention on him just as Brogan and Aodhan came running up. Cameron never noticed them. He was fighting for his life as the tentacles started to engulf him. He swung wildly through the burning, stinging pain until he was overwhelmed by the Sclagg’s persistent attack and he knew no more.

​I hope you enjoyed it. if you want know how things turn out download The Adventures of Phippen Abercrombie on Amazon.

​Image rosivan4eva via www.wunderground.com 

How about an excerpt from Book I...

​Here is an excerpt from the Adventures of Phippen Abercrombie, Book I: the Dragon Egg Curse... 

Chapter 17

Phippen's Request

Majella could see the shadow of the Witch under her door. She closed her eyes tightly and wished she would carry on. Go to another cell and just leave her alone. She held her eyes so tight the effort of it hurt. She felt if she squeezed her lids any harder they would begin to bleed.

"Don't hurt your pretty little face Princess," a cool reptilian voice hissed an inch from her nose. 

Majella recoiled in shock. She could smell the Witch's rotten breath wash over her face. She gagged hard to keep from being sick. She could feel a hot, sulfuric energy emanating from her grey skin. Majella squeezed her eyes even tighter.

"You will eat Princess," the Witch said coolly. 

Majella's hands were flat on the ground beside her hips. She suddenly felt a searing pain in the back of her right hand. Her eyes opened and she could see the Witch hunched over her. She had the end of her staff pushing into the top of Majella's hand, pinning it to the floor. Her hand burned under the staff as if it were acid tipped. It felt to Majella it would soon eat its way through her hand to the filthy floor beneath.

Majella reached over with her left hand and grabbed the staff trying to pull it from her hand. Her mind reeled with the pain; she could barely think through the agony.

The Witch laughed a low vicious laugh which sent chills down the young girl’s spine.

"Now, now Princess," the Witch hissed as she lowered her head back to Majella's. "Struggling will not save you."

Majella felt a pain in her forehead that overshadowed the burning in her hand. She squeezed tighter on the staff in her left hand and bit her lip to stifle a scream. Blood ran down her chin. The Witch was in her mind. She could feel her there like an animal slithering around in her head.

She could hear the Witch speaking in her mind.  Let go Princess, she growled. Majella released her grip on the staff. She was not in control of her own body. Now look at me.

Involuntarily, Majella's head turned up to look at the monstrous face before her. Yellow eyed rage and hate, the Witch curled her lips back to reveal her sharpened, rotting teeth, more like an ancient animal than a human.

I could make your lovely little red haired friend leap off a cliff. Her voice whispered inside Majella's mind. Or I could make her cut the throat of that idiot father of yours in his sleep. Do you think she could live with that Princess?

Majella shook her head. Her greasy hair slapped against her cheeks.

"I can't hear you," the Witch spoke aloud, her voice a low menacing growl.

"No," Majella croaked out quietly, her clouded mind, numb with the pain.

"THEN EAT!" the Witch howled as she kicked a mouldy piece of bread across the floor to Majella.

Majella picked the bread up with her left hand and took a small bite. She gagged as she swallowed, trying again not to throw up.

"Very good girl," the Witch sneered as she lifted the staff from Majella's hand. "If I need to make this trip down here again, it will be to show you the misery I have inflicted on that hideous little friend of yours. She will endure a suffering you can scarcely imagine."

Majella held her wounded hand to her chest.

"Have I explained my position convincingly Princess?" The Witch was clearly enjoying herself.

Majella nodded slowly.

"Very well," The Witch turned and her inky black form seeped under the door like an oil spill. 

Majella could see her shadow on the other side of the door for a moment. Then it moved away and the scratching sound from the staff grew distant. Majella held her hand close to her chest and began to weep uncontrollably.

If you enjoyed that, get the rest of the story here...

Image credit, Evil Witch by deathmedic

The great gray beast February is in retreat..

It is nearly March which means the end of Harvey Swick's "great ​gray beast February". As much as I adore the Thief of Always I had a difficult time with that description because my birthday was in February.... So the month wasn't all bad.

However, growing up on the prairies, March was my great gray beast. ​Spring was always too far away and the choke hold of winter was still so strong as to seem inescapable. But now, in the Okanagan, I look out at the already greening grass and I can't help but feel that spring is pushing winter hard out the door. Here's you hat, what's your hurry?

And good riddance. ​Like the Pevensies before me I can't help but delight at the arrival of spring. Winter has always felt like an evil enchantment from which there is little escape.

Perhaps that is a bit much but bring on the spring. I, for one, could not be happier to see it arrive.​

*image is sole property of original owner*​

Book Goodies for Kids...

Check out my book on Book Goodies for Kids.

My promo ended and it was the best promo I have had to date. I had four times the downloads I usually get. I owe a thank you to all the free book promo sites who took the time to post and tweet about my book.

Now it is time to continue working on Book II, The Monster Purge, in earnest. I am really enjoying the direction it is going. Very different from the Dragon Egg Curse, which is fun and is exactly what I had in mind for the series from the start. 

In Book II, fourteen year old Destry Grey and his twelve year old sister Rylar work together to stop a dark force from bringing to life all the fears and nightmares of children and unleashing them on the world. Meanwhile Phippen's pantry has been contaminated by an evil presence which may have destroyed the collection of adventures sealed in the jars forever.

It has been a lot of fun to write so far. I just hope that is translating onto the page. Watch for it in the spring or early summer.

In the meantime if you read my first book and don't mind taking the time to leave a review on Amazon, I would really appreciate it.

Thank you everyone for downloading my book and if you enjoyed the story please tell all your friends and their children about it.

#fridayreads

Happy Friday everyone! 

We made it to the end of the week and that means this is the last day of my free promo.

If you have not downloaded my book for free yet do not panic you will still have the opportunity until midnight tonight.

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to download Book I so far. This has been my best promo yet with by far the most downloads and the most positive feedback from readers.

Remember that if you have read the book and enjoyed it please take the time to leave a review on Amazon I would really love to hear what you thought. I am working on the second book so any advice on how to improve upon the first is always appreciated.

Of course glowing proclamations of the pure genius of the first book will not be turned away. :) 

So in honour of this being the last day of the FREE promo and it also being the Friday before the long weekend be kind to all those you hold dear and send them over to Amazon to get the Adventures of Phippen Abercrombie, Book I: the Dragon Egg Curse. They will thank you for it again and again.

Happy Long Weekend!

Phippen on the web...

Here are some places you can find Promo's for my book running right now.

Ask David

ebooklister

bookgoodies

storyfinds

goodreads

There are probably others but I am having trouble keeping all the promotional activities this week straight. Yeesh, it has been a busy, very internety few days.

Speaking of that there are only two more days to jump on the bandwagon and get your free copy of my ebook. I am sure by now you have all heard about it... Maybe, once or twice.

If you read it and just can't wait to tell everyone one you know the easiest way to do that would be to write a review on Amazon. Hey, I know how busy you are I just want to do my small part to make it simpler for you to  spread the word. I know how it is when you are so excited about something you can't wait to tell the world...

Have a great day and watch for Book I on #fridayreads tomorrow. 

3 Days Left...

Only three more days to take advantage of the free promo for the Adventures of Phippen Abercrombie, Book I.

So far this has been my best free promotion yet. Including my now legendary, if brief, moment at the top of the charts in Germany. Thanks Germany, I always knew you had great taste. Click the image to get a better look.

Take that Robert Louis Stevenson... Treasure Island my eye! And Mr. Kipling... Sorry, not even close!

For everyone who has read it and enjoyed it please take the time to leave a review, i would really appreciate it. Even if you thought it wasn't so great i can always use the constructive criticism... right?!?!

But if you haven't read it yet you best run out and get a copy today. Don't hesitate, you never know, you could get hit by a bus before you get the chance to read it. That would be tragic. Just ask Germany.

Anyway, thank you for all your support to everyone who has downloaded it. You have made something that was already a lot of fun even more enjoyable.

Happy reading everyone!

And don't forget to check out some of these other authors below... they are all indie authors and they are great!