Ye OldeBook Shoppe Pt5

 

Ye OldeBook Shoppe Pt5

Armageddon Time 

Darren Worrow

A few years ago an author suggested I join a Facebook group called the Book Review Depot. The idea being you purchased six selected books and reviewed them. Then, once complete, your own wares could gain access to the “active list,” and you’d receive sales and reviews.

It sounded like a plan and a great way to network. I met some great authors but sadly, the group fell into disrepair; perhaps due to too many people joining or some trying to mimic the idea for their own profit, or maybe it was me ruining the neighbourhood; the latter most likely.

Anyway, one book I picked was a fairly lengthy read and once done I announced its completion to the admin, only to find out I totally had the wrong book , this one was not on the list, or even known by the group; d’oh!

I tried to appeal, but them were da rulez; the admin were like mafia (not really.) Still, I shrugged; it was a darn good read! Enough to skim onto my on-going bucket list of self-published books to read before you either die or go buy a book from a big publishing house.

 

Of the steampunk genre, it was called “Walking,” and part one of the “Clockwork Twist,” series by Emily Thompson.  Not for the sake of interest, just purely due to time I admit I’ve not read much steampunk. I love ninth art legend Alan Moore and savoured in the eleventh Dr Who series, with its gorgeous Victorian portrayals but still, I’ve not got the googles yet.

As the genre matured it developed meandering tangents but, if you’re undecided, I’d recommend Emily Thompson’s uniquely designed fantasy world, wrapped neatly under her own banner of “clockpunk.”

It combines a geographically diverse universe of classic mutations, creatures from anthropomorphised spirit guides, vampires and some truly original creations, of which the protagonist is of no exception.

The clockwork professor “Twist” has a completely original persona and a magical power which sees him headhunted by airship pirates for a mission to fix a clockwork princess. Whisked out of his hermit life in the dark, dank streets of Victorian London he takes off unwittingly on a Gulliver style adventure.

Despite its setting and fantasy element it’s not written in an archaic style such as Verne or Dickens, rather it reads contemporary, verging on modern American TV series.

The only area it irritates is by the relentless usage of “said;” no one here seems to yell, shout, bellow or whisper. With an extensive arsenal of vocabulary at her disposal, it was overlooked by the author. A minor criticism you ride out due to the original concept of the book, its engaging fantasy, unique in popular style and reads without riddles.

 

Even though I feel like a window-shopper at the steampunk store, doubting I’m trendy enough to enter, I still enjoy traditional apocalyptic themes in sci-fi ; more popular than beards for 20 somethings, and if you’re looking for something completely faultless and original in this area, I cannot recommend Iron Mike enough.

It’s one I intended to get while the book review depot was still active but maybe the title put me off, as here in the UK the term “Iron Mike,” connotes the nickname of boxer Mike Tyson. You could double-check, but I’ve done it for you and can confirm this read is definitely not a biography of Mike Tyson!

It is in fact, the first book I should have picked from the review depot scheme.

Iron Mike in the States is slang for men who are tough, brave, and inspiring and now a de-facto for monuments commemorating servicemen of the United States military. Patricia Rose’s magnificent novel has a militant side, the protagonist coming of age during an alien invasion and learning the worth of human life, but it has so many other key elements which make it stand out from the rest.

At the beginning I was dubious, unsure if this was going to live up the hype. It read like many, aiming to be an adventurous movie script. Stick with it, because as the story develops it sucks you in like the alien vegetation which cultivates across the land.

The narrative is interesting, using a different character’s POV each chapter is no innovative notion but Patricia weaves it into some fascinating junctions. Yes, we have Mike and we have his love interest and the militant man struggling to keep command under pressure, but the point of view of the dog Hershey brings it something special, down written to reflect the mind of a domestic dog attempting to understand what is going on is sublime.

Where Iron Mike soars above and beyond your average story striving to be a Hollywood blockbuster is where we get to read the POV of the invading aliens too. I often argue HG Well’s longstanding War of the Worlds has a far better plotline than the popcorn-munching mush of Independence Day. Rather than having humans triumphing by Jeff Goldblum breeching the mothership and Will Smith punching aliens bare-fisted, in War of the Worlds the Martians overlooked the simple element to life on Earth; bacteria. This unpretentious twist may not appeal on a big screen but you’ve got to admit, it’s far more likely and ingenious.

Iron Mike goes one better than this, and for a book I doubted at first going one better than HG Wells leaves you putting the book down at its end and nodding a “wow.” You see, while you’re fighting the aliens alongside the heroes in traditional methods, this alien POV is building a political system within the extra-terrestrial social structure and its regulations needs a campaigner for moral justice; this is where Scientist-Farmer glides in.

It leaves us with a truly original, breath-taking finale, one where you now realise what all the fuss was about with this book and one which makes you glad you stuck with it. I cannot recommend this read enough, digest, enjoy and relish this unique story.

I did have one more book to mention here but I’ve used rambled on far too long and Mulp with have to wait until next time. For now, keep reading!

 

 

No Surprises Living in Devizes: Crying out Loud



No Surprises Living in Devizes

Crying out Loud

 

Darren Worrow

 

 

You lucky people; been cutting a fine deadline, writing your least favourite causerie as I’ve been gallivanting again; so I hope you appreciate the last minute blood and guts I’ve emptied over it. The question being, whose guts are they this week?

The intention was to continue the subject of youth making a positive difference. From afar I admired the shared video of extraordinarily talented Arthur Plumb, doing his fire-juggling on a unicycle in the Brittox and Bath. Arthur is out to promote his skills for booking at private occasions, let’s get behind this lad (but not too close when he’s on his unicycle.)

I figure this is going to be a walk in the park, there’s so much to cover on this “kids rock” theme. Then, oh dear me; I go away for five minutes, look what happens. Who’s been letting the side down? Teenagers accused of arson on a toddler’s slide in a playpark perhaps, others hurling snowballs at swans, or the “grownup” local MP supposed to be setting a good example?

I was flabbergasted and mesmerised with Claire Perry, standing against her Bory party this week, blathering cringeworthily comparisons; hysterical Brexiteer MPs as jihadists, they made her narcissistic scoffs on Twitter seem tame.

It was more irrational outburst than a cheap-shot rebellious kvetch, her only intention seemingly to earn a permit to appear on the tele-box. Did you catch “the World According to Claire Perry Show,” with guests including David Dimbleby, incorrectly scheduled by the BBC as Question Time? She fumbled humble pie but it fell on the floor before she had the opportunity to eat it.

Wow, she can unleash some serious drivel. Certain she had all the answers, to everything, her omnipresence brashly drowned the entire panel and audience, with rude interruptions, tactical equivocation and broad fibbing through her teeth. It was a shameful show leaving me embarrassed to confess she’s our representative.

At only six minutes in I felt my stomach churn when Claire explained the issue of Syrian refugee children. In a chinwag with the home secretary apparently there never was a number suggested, despite rash Dimbleby quoting a figure of three thousand from the original immigration act of 2016, which was quickly dispatched by her majesty as codswallop. She continued unabated, “all children put through such a horrific situation would be given as much support as we could give them.” Thus the blame she turned to councils that refused to accept more.

Now I’m confused, is there another Claire Perry MP, who back in April signed a rejection to the amendment accepting three thousand Syrian refugees who landed in mainland Europe without parents or guardians? Claire blatantly avoided the question by celebrating Britain’s previous track record, rather than focusing on the issue now.

Nauseated I felt the need to skip the NHS debate, such a delicate subject at present I fear I’ll end up on a bed in a corridor if I continue. Nothing more than lack of government funding is crippling the health care system, because this regime are hell bent on terminating our only establishment which remains the envy of the sane world. Underfund it so everyone thinks its closure doesn’t matter; it was dysfunctional anyway.

I got home from a major hospital in East Anglia, where nearly all patients were Caucasian British, and nearly everyone slaving through extended epochs to help them were foreign, only to watch an opinion piece by a contemptuous old fart stating the BBC was bias, blaming immigrants taking up beds. It’s pathetic ironic dribble of the highest order. The kind Jeremy Hunt sniggers at behind closed doors.

I’m sorry Claire Perry; while you support this corrupt government you don’t represent me. While financial backing is needed in so many areas of Devizes from healthcare to potholes, I cannot abide the cash spent on splashing your smirking face on campaign posters in a constituency of full-gone conclusion conservative dominance.

Obviously she seethed through opposing opinions from Labour MP Owen Smith and blanked leftie folk singer Billy Bragg, but she even chose to ignore senior obnoxious cow, Anne Widdecombe as she threatened to pop Claire’s ego-bubble with the stern waving of a pen.

You’d have thought she’d have respected Widdecombe, who was conniving in Parliament when she were mere fagging in Brasenose. See how Anne expertly scoffed in the face of a teenager who pointed out Brexit was not proportionate as she was under voting age during the referendum.

I’m with Whitney on this one, I believe children are our future, teach them well and let them lead the way. While we roll out the red carpet for an orange American chauvinist, we reject desperate children who could be nurtured to upstanding citizens of our future; acting like this AND expecting youngsters not to throw a snowball at a swan, oh my years.   

The ones who burned the slide should try to recall a time when they were toddlers and enjoyed swings and slides, don’t mature sharing our generation’s selfish attitude; you have your own mind; use it.

No Surprises Living In Devizes:

No Surprises Living in Devizes

Getting Foxy

Darren Worrow

The year of our Lord, 2010; I find myself amidst an impenetrable crowd of buoyant rural folk hither our nation’s capital, contemplating this city hath never seen such a horde of bumpkins descend upon it since the Countryside Alliance march of 2002. Misfortune the outcome of both affairs; this occasion Paul Robinson scored at the end of the first-half, leading Millwall to a one-nil win against Swindon in the League One play-off final, whereas, rightfully, The Hunting Act was passed as law in 2005.

Although there were various mini-issues to the protests; protecting British farming, rising fuel costs and the right to wear green wellies on a dry street, it was and will always be a method to boost numbers rallying for the right to brutally slaughter innocent mammals in the most bloody-thirsty means possible.

Thanks to the “Countryside Alliance,” city-dwellers believe the countryside is united under one flag; one fox-blooded flag proudly waving against the winds of change. However, while most approved the mini-issues, no other subject has divided country folk more than the notion we have the god given right to tear animals to shreds for the mere thrill of it; can you guess which side of the fence I stand yet?

Start the year as you mean to go on; I’m on a wind up because, despite its illegality, thousands gathered on Boxing Day, no better than heroin addicts, to blatantly flaunt the law and, just like their children, they rub the blood in the face of anyone who might feel it slightly unfair on the fox by unveiling their crime in the native newspaper, as if what they did was acceptable behaviour; shame on the Gazette for passing such conceited pugnacious dribble off as an innocuous pageant.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no tree-hugging, bunny-loving beatnik, I just don’t understand the attraction in the barbaric and pompous act of fox hunting. So you’re not flabbergasted by their articulate defence upon meeting snobby barbarians, which is inevitable around these parts, I wanted, not to pledge my case against, but merely outline the facts regarding hunting foxes, so you don’t get weighed down with their timeworn but privately educated excuses; fair enough innit?

Foremost, the average hunter will tell you what they do is legal and on the surface they’re correct. The flushing out of wild mammals as vermin and humanely shooting foxes are exempt, coupled with the laying of an artificial scent for hounds and heroes to pursue. Who are you trying to kid? Who stops them should the vague law “accidentally” be encroached? Like the enemies of Michael Knight, these criminals operate above the law.

Fox hunting is not about culling a pest. Why would you breed a pest? Yep, blowing this pathetic excuse out the water is simple, for foxes bred in captivity have been discovered on many hunting estates. Even worse than hunting a wild fox, they release their unwanted pets and for just a brief moment the fox has a taste of freedom, a freedom it’ll never know. Then, it’s chased in the most terrifying technique conceivable until, nerves shot and physically unable to proceed, hounds leisurely tear it shreds. It is not, as suggested, killed quickly. After the petrifying hunt they withstand abundant bites and lacerations, so too do the hounds.

“The fox has a fair chance,” they drivel. This one interrogates its term “sport.” Sport is competitive; look it up in the flipping dictionary. If I bricked up my goal prior to the football game you’d accuse me of cheating. A Fox’s natural means of escape is to hide underground, why then are burrows and badger setts deliberately blocked up prior to the hunt?

“Foxes are vermin,” because the simple erection of a secure electric fence has never been conceived until just now; I need to patent that. Besides the fox’s favourite tucker is rabbit and they breed like, well. Eliminate the fox; you got yerself a rabbit problem. We share this planet with other species; get used to it or tally-ho to Mars.

The most hypocritical excuse, “foxes kill for sport.” They bury excess spoils for consumption at a later date. Should you have to hunt to feed your family and were fortunate to break into Ginsters one night; you’d take all the chicken and mushroom slices rather than only what you need for a quick snack, for Ginster’s security guards will be on the prowl tomorrow. Chicken carcasses are left in coops when the fox is scared off; unable to pop down Morrison’s for a chicken chow-mein ready-meal for one.

Certain this week’s column will face heated debate, which is dandy; but please, don’t try to convince me otherwise. This is my opinion, an opinion shared by the majority, that is why it is law; democracy yeah? Nothing you can say will cause me to change my opinion and therefore your time spent spouting manure will be pointless; capisce? 

Introducing Sheldon!

Introducing Sheldon!

When I started my milk round I’d have to check through my folder every few minutes to remind myself of the following customers who required milk, as each day is different. Now days I don’t need to refer too often, memorising parrot fashion. I was on Church Lane, in the village of Woodborough when I checked, noting I had only one house called “Sheldon” before the stop at the garden centre. As a quick reference I said to myself “Sheldon, shop.”

Well, the phrase rang a miniature bell in my peculiar bonce, thinking it sounded catchy I dreamed up an idea for a children’s book; in a pet shop, a bulldog called Sheldon is under the illusion he is the boss. By the time I reached the house the character was foggy in my head and a minute later, upon reaching the garden centre the plot had unfolded before me; I even remembered to deliver the milk too!

I wrote the story in rhyme; it’s fun, cheeky, with a moral. I pondered the idea but put it on the back burner, aware children’s books are tricky to self-publish and market. I read it to my daughter, probably my toughest critic; she liked it. I passed it to authors Heather Osborne, Sarah Hill and Robin Rowles; the feedback returned positive.

Now I am delighted to be at this stage, the original mailed to the publisher’s editor and I have convinced the most amazing and talented local artist Clare Brookes to illustrate it. Here is a secret sneaky exclusive peek; a mock-up of a page, a prototype of how I’d like it to appear, with Clare’s beautiful rendering of Sheldon and friends.

A new direction for me then; I can write adult junk till I’m blue in the face, but really, deep down, a children’s author is my dream. Kids love stories and books, they influence their imaginations, in a mechanism most adults have sadly lost.

I’d like to thank everyone involved with the project so far within this announcement; fingers and toes crossed for us.

Until the next update please check out Clare’s Facebook page:  https://www.facebook.com/Clare-Brookes-Artist-1351164458228619/?pnref=story And if you are around the Bath area she has an exhibit running for a month from 14^th Jan at Bathford café/gallery. 

2017 here we come!

Ye OldEbook Shoppe Pt4: Fantasy V Reality

Yeah I know, the only thing I’m consistent about is starting things and leaving them half-done.

It’s been a while since I pressed on with this bucket list of the best self-published/small press books to read before you either die or go and buy another book from a big publishing house; given you some time to check the ones I’ve already covered didn’t it?

If you can cast your mind back to the last part, I was rapping about the fantasy genre. Advice from established authors can often be “write about what you know,” but with fantasy that’s not so simple; you can adapt the reality you know but you’re going to have to imagine too, you have to capture a dream.

My advice for this is to pretend you’re a child again; if you’re a writer you were probably one of the kids who could take themselves out of reality and stage an epic story through play; a natural talent most lose through the journey to adulthood. I say “sod adulthood,” train your mind to return to a juvenile state when your imagination held no bounds, just stop picking your nose and fidgeting at the dinner table.

Still, you can forget all that and write about a real situation if you like; I enjoy non-fiction too. With big publishers you need to adopt a certain style, close in on a genre and stick to it. With self-publishing you can experiment, change your style, genre, and write about whatever the heck you want to. So this episode we’ll look at fantasy and reality and then straddle the border between them.   

American born Kevin Kato lives in Japan, he wrote humour, generally. His book I want to mention is set wholly in reality. “For Now; After the Quake-a Father’s Journey,” is a journal of his family during the fourth strongest earthquake in recorded history.

Living  in Fukushima, Japan around March 2011 Kevin witnesses the monstrous tsunami pound the north-eastern shores, reducing towns to splinters and leaving 20,000 loved ones dead or missing. Two days later, fifty miles from his family and home, the reactors at the Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant began to explode.

Poignant and moving, Kevin Kato delivers fact and fear of the emotional events and the legacy it left upon the city. He tells the tale first hand in periodical form describing the hell that his family went through and how the population of Fukushima dealt with the issues.

“For the sake and safety of my two young sons there was no decision to be made, just get them away,” Kevin writes as his blurb. “For myself, the choice was much less clear. How can I run away when so people, right down the road, are in such dire need - of food, of shelter, of the helping, caring hands of another human being? The urgency of the moment made it impossible to do both - and left me feeling capable of neither.”

You can read all the news you want to about natural disasters but a books like “For Now,”  gives it a certain reality and that extra dimension; It is quite breath-taking and should be filed “a must read.”

Kevin dedicated the book “to the memory of those lost and the courage of the affected that remain.”

Some fiction though is so close to reality it can be a poignant as “For Now.” For this you need to be one remarkable writer, come on down Jonah Pierce. There’s a series of versions of this story but the one I read was “Anissa of Syria,” subtitled, “A Christian Refugee’s Saga from the Syrian War to The American Dream,” and it is part of a series called “The Love of Antioch.”

Phew, one paragraph just to tell you the title, which has an alternative “ruder” version by Jonah’s alter-ego Mr Zack Love called “The Syrian Virgin: A Young Woman's Journey From War in Syria to Love in New York (The Syrian Virgin Series Book 1.)”

Trust me to pick the clean version, not that I’m into reading erotica. Neither is the romance genre usually my thing but I am not one to mark a book down due to my personal tastes, I mean I picked it right? I picked it because of the plot that surrounds the romance elements, a young girl fleeing the horrors in Syria; touching and topical.

For the first half I got what I came for, Jonah’s writing is strenuous and flows wonderfully, it’s intelligent and operates above the regularity of the romance genre. Once the protagonist has successfully made the journey to New York the narrative concentrates more with the personal aspects of the girl’s life, her understanding of social etiquette in the city, her education and campaigning for her cause but mostly, her love life.

One may fairly label it as a modern Anne Frank’s diary; it is certainly set out in diary form and follows a similar line; if you came looking for action, you have to remind yourself that this is the diary of a teenager and it deals with pubescent issues equally as much as the horrors of the war-torn predicament she resides in. The only difference here is that Anne Frank’s diary is real but Anissa is fiction. If there was a reason I could give for knocking that star off it would have been this one, and as the story warms towards her romantic activities and distances itself from the troubles in Syria. However, I then considered how believable the character is; at times I thought I could reach into the book and pull her out of there (which is why I should have read the ruder version) and that, to me, deserves all my acclaim.

So all in all I enjoyed this read but if it is all-out-action, boy’s stuff you’re searching for you may be disappointed. This is thoughtful, moving and gratifying.

Truth told, as much as I admire a well-written non-fiction or reality-driven story, nothing enchants me more than to be imbibed into the imaginary world of someone skilful enough to execute a realm of total fantasy and more importantly make it funny too. My newfound friend from across the pond Antonio Simon Jnr, of who I’m honoured to share a contribution to the horror anthology Shadows and Teeth with, fulfils this need more than anyone.

The book is called “The Gullwing Odyssey,” winner of the 2014 Royal Palm Literary Award in the category of Humor and Satire, yeah, I know the missing U annoys me too but this is without doubt one of the finest reads, like, ever.

It follows Marco Gullwing, a messenger who stumbles into a case of mistaken identity and his adventures which follows. Stranded in foreign lands within this fantasy realm Marco is “constantly outrunning pirates, embroiled in international intrigue, and attacked by a hummingbird with an appetite for human brains – that’s just the start of his misadventures.”

Lovers of Jeff Smith’s “Bone” will be a home here. If the Monty Python team wrote Gulliver’s Travels in the spirit of Don Quixote you might be close to just how awesome this is. The goodness arrives from the realm and the quirky misadventures, but mostly from the sheer quality of the characters. Marco is a lucky sprite, with the blessing from a god he has no faith in; he humorously survives scrapes most would perish. He’s no fool but no hero either; an everyman.

Marco is surrounded by equally resolute and intelligently grafted characters, a princess dragon who takes a shining to him, the brash indestructible Latino female pirate and the overzealous knight Barclay who, despite his foreboding of dragons, follows on not as friend but for reimbursement for saving his life.

With amusing ways of doing battle there’s silliness abound and I guarantee you’ve not read anything quite like this.

So ending there brings our bucket-list to ten but there’s still more to come: (in no particular order)

For Now by Kevin Kato https://www.amazon.co.uk/Now-After-Quake-Fathers-Journey-ebook/dp/B00IVLZTOW/

Anissa of Syria by Jonah Pierce https://www.amazon.co.uk/Syrian-Virgin-Young-Womans-Journey-ebook/dp/B00PCTY5N2/

Gullwing Odyssey by Antonio Simon Jnr  https://www.amazon.co.uk/Gullwing-Odyssey-Antonio-Simon-Jr-ebook/dp/B00F8OVB8I/

And in previous blogs:

Khe by Alexes Razevich

Shadowline Drift by Alexes Razevich

Speak Swahili Dammit! by James Penhaligon

Judas by Roy Bright

War of the Never (series) by Colin Rutherford

The Order of the Anakim (series) by Cecily Magnon

Kyrathaba Rising by William Bryan Miller

Ye OldE-Book Shoppe 3

Let Me Be Your Fantasy…..No okay, maybe not; I understand.

The fantasy genre is like Marmite; you either love or hate it. I break this company slogan; I can take Marmite or leave it without fuss. Blows their whole advertising campaign out of the water huh? Well, fantasy is the same, when its written well it absorbs me, pulls me into its unique world but often, geeks write fan fiction or else a poor pastiche of the classics; pass the pipe-weed Ent, I’m off to Gondor.

Kyrathaba Rising

While the others offer original worlds, Kyrathaba Rising is Tolkienesque but in an ingenious and unusual way. Principally though, it’s a dystopian sci-fi crime thriller; taking a while to lift off but when it does the layers pile higher. Sheltering from a hostile alien race in an underground compound, a commune face invasion or else, the protagonists plan to save the human race by entering a virtual reality world whereby they can access a new life.

Anyone intelligent enough to program such an intense alternative world, the author theorises, stands to reason they’d be a geek and every geek loves a bit of “Lord of the Rings.” Therefore the world they enter is inspired by Middle-Earth with preprogramed representations of the many creatures from Tolkien’s world.

It’s obvious its author, William Bryan Miller, is as massively influenced by Tolkien as the programmers in his book, and while he’s not afraid to show it, he’s found a unique angle and reason in which to use it.

Others take to fantasy in a more direct way and provided it is carved out with creativity and originality then I cannot get enough. The next two books I think are similar in that, the protagonists both come from our world and find themselves delving into their respective other-worlds. The first is the world of the Never, shaped by the astounding CJ Rutherford.

origins of the never

Now, both Mr Rutherford and Cecily Magnon use the hook of a free prequel to suck you into his realm, its fair game and a great way for you taste their offerings before devoting yourself to the series. I guarantee now though, if you stick your little toe in either waters, you’ll want to dive right in.

How do they do this? Through a website called Smashwords, a wonderful cyber-bookshop where, if you want to avoid the one which sounds like a rainforest for your own reasons, you need look no further. Check it out and support the authors on there.

Back to Never though, defined as YA in genre, (young adult) but I pretend I’m young enough, it’s the duty of us big kids. It’s a world full of dragons and other archetypical creatures but the way it has been presented is engaging. Rutherford knows how to weave a fascinating story; the prequel starts in the fantasy world and leaves you hanging. Then book one plonks you back on Earth, in Ireland, where a couple of girls in university begin to analysis the dreams that haunt them, suspecting they’re becoming real.

Unlike Tolkien we are not expected to just be plonked in the middle of Never without a map; Colin is crafting his universe before us, opening our mind and pouring in the rich narrative and creative descriptions with ease. The multi-universe theory comes into play and the adventure unfolds; nothing particularly original in this but, and this is a big but, it’s charm is within the courageous wordplay, the real life conversations and situations that make this something very special. It reads beautifully, it does not confuse and it implements all we need to know to enter his world confident that we are no stranger.

It reminded me of Cecily Magnon’s amazing series, “The Order of the Anakim,” with its perfect mixture of rich portrayals and everyday conversation pieces and this, coupled with the modern scientific theory that melds our world to that of the Never this book keeps you beyond entertained and when it is over, dripping for more. And there is more, after you’ve downloaded the FREE prelude, Origins of the Never, there’s three novels; Souls of the Never, Worlds of the Never and War of the Never.

Prelude to a Storm

“The Order of the Anakim” also has three books after the FREE, Prelude to a Storm; Gathering Storm, Dark Skies and Tempest Dawn. The similarities are endless, it’s also YA but enjoyable for an old fart like me!

Two young and rather naïve American Girls venture across the Mexican border. Life is a breeze for them, not taking heed of warnings they find themselves biting off more than they can chew in a rundown café. There is something in the mist of the mood, something not quite right but it would seem they are in good hands when a strong willed young Greek man assists them with the undesirable cautions of his boss Rosa, owner of the café. With their suspicions they’ve found something unworldly and demonic they leave under the protection of their saviour.

Intrigued by the whole incident one of the girls returns and in turn the protector seems to become obsessed by her, locating her in San Francisco. However her relevance in all this is far from circumstantial as she is about to discover her role in a world of ancient magik.

Cecily tackles this fantastical unwinding narrative with certain ease, the words flow through you as if they are magic themselves; there is no mistaking the environment that you are imaging, it sucks you in and tosses you right into the eye of the action. With beauty and precision the wording is expressive, it is funny when it wants to be fun, scary when it needs to scare you; basically it’s astonishingly realistic.

Prelude to a Storm is literally as moreish as melting chocolate and the only thing you will want to do after reading it is liquefy into the series.

With the fuller books greater depth and narrative sustain the quality; they deliver this in abundance. At times the descriptions gave us rather a lot to digest, building up into a world that has the potential to remain exciting through a whole series and thus, Gathering Storm takes some time to develop. 

However there is a reality through the dialogue and such a wonderful expression in the writing that it never bores you. Then, when Cecily does take you off for the action it is truly breath-taking and exhilarating either dramatic in its fantastical battles with demons or else in the magnificently crafted erotic interactions. If this was a movie, your popcorn would be all over the floor of the cinema and you wouldn’t have even noticed.

Return to Slapam Down

Having been busy enjoying writing, among other things (other disgusting things) my regular column and articles for Index;Wiltshire, It's been a while since I released a new book, sorry but that's about to change my friends.

If you've not read A Chip off the Old Block, what are you waiting for, a sequel, Christmas, or the country to come to its senses? It's FREE on Smashwords here.

You need to read this, your life may depend on it and what is more, the sequel really is coming faster than a fast thing being fast; you have been warned.

Now I’m not one to blow my own trumpet but this is officially certified the funniest thing you might read this week in accordance with the board of the funniest things you might read this week cooperation of Slough, Berkshire; if an elaborate tale of knob jokes is up your street.

So for your reading displeasure I humbly present the first chapter in a desperate attempt to lure you in, and if by some miracle it works, well, my work is done. Enjoy!

 1.

Big mouthed bigot, Jeremy Clerkscum, famous TV presenter and all-round knob-jockey, flicked through the menu and smiled. “Amazing, they do not have a single dish here that hasn’t had…. an animal callously butchered.”

It was obvious his signature presenting routine, of pausing midsentence, deepening his voice before continuing, was no gimmick for television; he really was stupid enough to think using it all the time gave him an air of superiority.

A shallow looking drip in a suit far too expensive for him looked nervously at Clerkscum from the other side of the table and advocated, “Oh, surely they have at least one vegetarian option available?” He took a quick scan of his own menu, using it as shield to shy behind when he observed, “I did not realise that you are a….ermmm…vegetarian Mr Clerkscum?”

The TV presenter was a gigantic man, twice the size of his dinner colleague, maybe even three, and he spat out some saliva when he barked. “I think all veggies should be hung, drawn and quartered at birth!”

“Oh,” the drip cowered.

“Along with any Jesus-creeping, work-shunning, left wing driblets that support the NHS, the BBC and, god forbid, them….them fucking tree-hugging, pikey hunt saboteurs; slay the fox I say, slaughter the stag now!” Jeremey raised his volume with every word until he bellowed in an insane giggle. He noticed a group of men staring at him, gathered at a table just two down from his own. “Isn’t that so Prime Minister?” he asked them.

One man nodded his approval, “Here, here, Mr Clerkscum; see you at the hunt what-what!”

“So,” his nerdy chum dared to peek over his menu, “this restaurant meets with your, ermm, satisfaction then?” His teeth chattered with the fear of Jeremey’s response.

Clerkscum took his time to answer, when he did he projected it with his trademark deep booming voice and the random little pause he did for effect, “This restaurant is the best restaurant…….in the world.”

“Oh good, I’m so glad. Now about your, ermm, about your contract with the BBC in connection with the comments you made on the Cbeebies show Out and About, you know, ermm, yes, the ones concerning, ermm, immigrant disabled children, Rottweilers, chainsaws and ermm, ethnic, ermmm, cleansing?”

Clerkscum downed his pint of Henri Jayer Richebourg Grand Cru in one and let out a ground-shaking burp. “What about it?”

“Well, in….in….ermm…in light of, of ermm, recent complaints…..” stammered the chaperone.

“Complaints?” Clerkscum bellowed, forcing his dinner partner to grip the table cloth in fear of being blown back in his chair. “For the love of Thatcher, what can you say on the BBC these days if you can’t give a sly little joke about some towel-headed disabled kids meeting their maker, huh?”

“Well…….” The nerd slithered snake-like down his seat until only the topper most of his hair was visible over the table-top.

“Fuck this,” he bellowed. Clerkscum stood and took half of the cutlery with him, “I’ve gotta take a piss.” The nerd quivered as the plates and glasses crashed to the floor.

Bold and brash Jeremey Clerkscum waddled to the door of the gents and pushed the thing off of its hinges. He forcefully stepped inside; his hands already fingered his flies. He strode over to a urinal and gave a relaxing sigh.

He causally undone his button, slid down the zip of his trousers and straddled the urinal. At ease he looked to the wall and attempted to hoist out his great length of penis, “arghh, the best penis…….in the world….” he muttered deeply to himself with a grin.

As he fumbled some more an expression of shock and confusion flushed over his sweaty face, wiping it clean of the previous smug grin. No one outside the gent’s washroom heard his monumental cry, no matter how much volume he conducted it with. The toilets in this establishment were sound-proofed better than the recording studios of Abbey Road.

  

Ye Old-eBook Shoppe 2

Contented upon finishing “Lord of the Rings,” I told a doughnut of a friend. They replied I was “a big girl” to have read it as they’re making a film. Peter Jackson made a fair attempt but I defer, for only those who read know the idiocy of his statement. Still authors dream their works would attract a film producer, but to see your narrative ripped apart can be disheartening. Guess you just lie back and think about the money.

Last week I mentioned the ease of movie adaption with Alexes Razevich’s astounding novel “Khe,” this can be an attraction for readers. So the couple of books I’ve picked this time contradict each other. While “Judas” is an all-action, popcorn munching Hollywood dream, I feel “Speak Swahili Dammit!” is quite the opposite, both breathtakingly brilliant but the latter book remains something to be digested in literature form.

“Judas” I discovered as a friend (Barry Renshaw) designed the cover. Yeah I know, don’t judge a book blah, blah. But when I read the synopsis I gasped, wondering why no one had thought of this simple but awesome plot before.

Judas Iscariot, yeah him, the disciple who grassed up Jesus in the bible, is paying for his crime. God has made him immortal, to walk the Earth forevermore, never to love, unable to die and so, obviously, he’s turned into an all-American action hero out to protect a forthcoming prophet! The likes of Bruce Willis or Vin Weasel would not look out of place playing Judas……if it would be snapped up by Hollywood.

Although I fear with its Christian connotations Middle-America would hail blasphemy. It’s exactly the shock-tactic its author, Roy Bright tells me he was aiming for. Expect a plague of locusts in his hometown of Burnley.

While some chapters, such as the biblical flashback sequences, are deadly serious, others have a tongue-in-cheek feel about them; both equally wonderfully written and engaging.

Its location is a movie caricature of New York, where demons choose to take the form of Japanese businessmen. Dripping with wry “Terminator” and “Die Hard” pastiches, it’s all very comic-book; Bright makes no attempt to hide this fact. Not just the gung-ho narrative but often referencing comic, manga or action hero movie media in the narrative. And in true Hollywood fashion, Roy is currently bashing out a sequel as we speak.

“Judas” may not be up everyone’s street. It’s highly addictive, chockful of fury-paced pulp fiction, aching for John Woo to direct. In contradiction, I believe the author of “Speak Swahili Dammit!” considered the possibility of movie adaption but it’s one of those things, I feel, which is best remaining as it is; a both inspiring and amusing masterpiece novel.

Quite lengthy, “Speak Swahili Dammit!” is autobiographical. Cornish author James Penhaligon’s family migrated to Tanganyika in the 1950s when he was six. This then is the story of white kid “Jimu” growing up in the African bush, being accepted by the Watu and it ends with his dawning of adolescence.

It describes life there, its history and culture in colossal detail, ventures off into gorgeous character portrayals, and amusing anecdotes of his interactions with the ingenious people, the other colonists, and a few deadly animals.

Covering the fullness of childhood; prepubescent love, friendship and general mischievousness, “Speak Swahili Dammit!” meanders through emotions cogitating through the eyes of a child.

This truly is an inspiring and witty read; a self-published stroke of genius which makes you wonder why the heck it is isn’t in every bookshop worldwide. But hey, that’s the domain of self-publishing, there’s greatness lurking down rabbit holes. You just have to take the leap… or wait for me hand more to you on a silver platter, as I did last time spotlighting Alexes Razevich.

Based on the excellence of “Khe,” I had high hopes for her second book, “Shadowline Drift.” Offering to be different Alexes again outreached my expectations. This book captivated me until the end. It’s not a turn of phrase when I say “I couldn’t put it down;” might as well have superglued it to my fingers.

When the protagonist delves into the Amazon rainforest to make a trade with a nomadic tribe for a plant which can solve the world famine problem, he gets much more than he bargained for. This believable fantasy sprints, with rich storytelling and careful research through the culture and wildlife of the rainforest and whisks into supernatural enigmas with a killer plot line.

So with three more added to our bucket list; an unspecified amount of self-published books to read before you either die or go buy another book by a big publishing house; lock in this feature for we have more to come.

I’ve put a Facebook group together called Ye OldE-book Shoppe, please join for more coverage of great books and meet the authors:  https://www.facebook.com/groups/1606699399605659/

Speak Swahili Dammit! James Penhaligon: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Speak-Swahili-Dammit-African-childhood-ebook/dp/B00B1WOYY4/

Judas, Roy Bright: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Judas-Iscariot-Warrior-Book-1-ebook/dp/B01AQY5M16/

Shadowline Drift, Alexes Razevich:  https://www.amazon.co.uk/Shadowline-Drift-Razevich-Alexes-ebook/dp/B00JEP2GBI/

Ye Old e-Book Shoppe

Buy a book at the supermarket? Job done, but surely you’re getting jaded with the humdrum of celebrity autobiographies, keep-fit and cook books?

Perhaps you’ve bought yourself an e-reader, you simply download books; easy innit? You download a virtual Bibliotheque of classics free but, it’s thorny hunting something different. Someplace though, there’s a wealth of aspiring authors, begging you to open a page of their humble outpourings but it’s a needle in a haystack.

There’s been an explosion of self-publishing; any Tom, Dick, Harry or Harry’s pet dog can throw a perfunctory novel together complete with more grammatical errors then a day on Twitter and a plot so weak it couldn’t interest a primate. So you avoid plunging into the depths of this ocean, without the recommendation of a billboard or Guardian reviewer you worry you’re going to waste your hard-earned pennies on some pile of uninspiring codswallop.

I feel your pain, but fear not oh fearless one; I’m here to rumble through the haystack and find you the perfect needle. The concern is those untrusting, namby-pamby customer-propelled reviews on the big book sites. There may well be twenty-eight five star reviews on the book you’re pursuing, but they all seem to be from the author’s mum.

The issue for the author is the world of self-publishing rarely peaks its head out of its own backside and so ranting to friends on social networks means preaching to the converted; plus, they have their own torrents to endorse. If an author doesn’t promote themselves ain’t nobody gonna see their stuff, shamelessly over-plug and they get accused of “spamming,” by people who will quite willingly succumb to a large poster on the wall advertising a big publisher’s book.

So here I stand, or lounge, hoping to attract a new audience to this world, longing to tug you away from Katie Price’s tenth autobiography. Tune in every week where I’ll spotlight a few self-published books that may be up your street but you didn’t hear tapping at your door. You can expect honesty, at last; I won’t call in on those which do not meet a standard of distinction.

Think of it as a bucket list; An unspecified amount of self-published books to read before you either die or go buy another book by a big publishing house… or something like that.

Maybe you haven’t given in to the technological revolution; you favour the feel and smell of a real book; I don’t blame you but you might be surprised to note many self-publishers do release books on paper too.

One trick of the eBook trade is to look out for free promotion days; this way if the author is bad you’ve lost nothing. Never think for a second though only rubbish authors run such promotions; anyone wanting to further their appeal will. You may pick a dreadful one but, you might just stumble on some greatness.

In fact, this is the way I discovered possibly my favourite self-published author…like, ever. From Orange County, Alexes Razevich attended California State University, earning a degree in creative writing. A former editor for Electronic Engineering Times, her work has appeared in Rolling Stone among others.

I downloaded her sci-fi epic, “Khe.” Within just a few short chapters Razevich creates a believable but complex alternative world which would have taken other authors a hundred pages or more to immerse the reader into its unique fantasy realm.

The adventure takes you on a journey unlike anything I could try to compare it to. If you forced a comparison out of me; I’d say like Frank Herbert, with a feminine angle. This totally original page-turner wouldn’t look out of place as an advert on the walls of a multiplex. If I was James Cameron I’d snap it up but, well, I’m not. Its narrative is easy despite the vast cultural differences between our world and that of Khe’s.

From the absorbing plot to the smaller elements, such as the species emotion spots that glow a different colour to represent their moods, this book had me hooked. I could see a thousand possibilities for other equally interesting plots using the universe Razevich calls “The Ahsenthe Cycle.” Since I read this the highly anticipated second part of the series, “Ashes and Rain” has been released and it’s burning my kindle as we speak. But there are so many other authors I need to tell you about; stay tuned.

There cannot be many better places to start out on your self-publishing expedition then Alexes Razevich. We’ll look at her other offering next week along with a couple more. So, pop to my virtual bookshop column next time when I’ll try to reduce the rambling and random tangents….. I said “try!”

KHE:   https://www.amazon.co.uk/Khe-Ahsenthe-Cycle-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00987OLVU/

          

             https://www.amazon.com/Khe-Ahsenthe-Cycle-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00987OLVU/

I’ve put a Facebook group together called Ye OldE-book Shoppe, please join for more coverage of great books and meet the authors:  https://www.facebook.com/groups/1606699399605659/