Showing posts with label book cover. Show all posts
Showing posts with label book cover. Show all posts

Tuesday, 12 September 2017

Cover Reveal: Londinium (P.A.W.S. Saga 4)

Today I have a delightful treat for you, my minions, with the reveal of the brand new book cover for the next book in the P.A.W.S. Saga, Londinium. This book series is paranormal fantasy and is written by the talented author, Debbie Manber Kupfer.

The cover was created by the hugely talented Rachel Bostwick who also made the cover for the new box set of P.A.W.S. books (1 to 3) that is now available on Amazon.


So, without further ado, drum roll please...


londinium


Isn't that a terrific cover?


The P.A.W.S. Saga continues with Londinium.


Here's little snippet from the book.

“The pea soup has spoken,” said Caradog. “You are destined for Londinium.”
“Londinium?” asked Miri.
“It was the ancient city from which London sprang. The P.A.W.S. Institute of Londinium is the oldest in the world. It started before the city of today existed and straddles the old and the new.
Unfortunately, today it is run by a fool.”

Join Miri as she continues her journey through Umbrae and Londinium with the help of werecats, wild warlocks, an old dog, a duck, and a whole lot of pea soup.




Need to catch up?

 You can do that all in one place with a brand new box set of books 1 to 3.


box set


Sunday, 5 March 2017

Cover Reveal: Camp Nightmare

Today I have a cover reveal, for the horror thriller short story, Camp Nightmare by Franny Marie. Enjoy!

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
🌟 CAMP NIGHTMARE COVER REVEAL ðŸŒŸ
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★



Isn't it great?

Now here's the info on the book


Release Date: Friday March 10th, 2017
Blurb:  Six Friends head out to an annual Camping Trip for a week... Will it be a fun filled week or will they land in a house of Horror fighting for their lives?
Genre: Horror/Thriller 

💜 Follow Franny Marie 💜

#Horror #Thriller #shortstories #IndieBooksBeSeen #coverreveal 



Tuesday, 15 March 2016

Cover Reveal for The Ballad of Allyn-a-Dale

It's time for another exciting cover reveal, this time for the YA fantasy, The Ballad of Allyn-a-Dale, by the ever talented Danielle E. Shipley. It's book one in her new series, The Outlaws of Avalon.

And now, may I present...



The Ballad of Allyn-a-Dale (The Outlaws of Avalon, Book One)

by Danielle E. Shipley



The lovely cover art is by Lars van de Goor and Milan van de Goor

This contemporary, young adult, fantasy releases July 12, 2016

You can preview it on Goodreads


The Author’s Thoughts on the Cover

The Outlaws of Avalon trilogy is my baby, so I knew its faces had to blow me away. For Book One’s cover, there were a couple elements I for sure wanted to highlight: 1, the forest (because SHERWOOD), and 2, the lute (because Allyn-a-Dale). The rest, I mostly left up to my designers – photographer Lars van de Goor, and his son Milan.
A couple drafts later, this was the gorgeous result. The elegant swirls! The delightful rosette on the spine! Of all the darling touches – a ROBIN perched over “Ballad”s second A! And, of course, the must-have lute sitting sedately amongst the trees.
The minstrel blue, the greenwood green, the magical splash of sunlight… This cover doesn’t just say “The Ballad of Allyn-a-Dale”: It sings it.


Novel Summary


Welcome to Avalon, a Renaissance Faire where heroes of legend never die. Where the Robin Hood walking the streets is truly the noble outlaw himself. Where the knightly and wizardly players of King Arthur’s court are in fact who they profess to be. Where the sense of enchantment in the air is not mere feeling, but the Fey magic of a paradise hidden in plain sight.

Enter Allyn-a-Dale. The grief of his father’s death still fresh and the doom of his own world looming, swirling realities leave the young minstrel marooned in an immortal Sherwood Forest, where he is recruited as a member of Robin Hood’s infamous outlaw band. But Allyn’s new life may reach its end before it’s scarcely begun. Their existence under threat, the Merry Men are called upon to embark on a journey to the dangerous world Outside – ours – on a quest which must be achieved without delay, or eternity in Avalon will not amount to very long at all.


Excerpt:

Allyn would have known Will Scarlet for a relation of Robin Hood’s even had he not been introduced as his cousin. Though clean-shaven, younger, and framed by thick locks of gold tinged with the color of his name, Will’s face was patently similar to Robin’s, with the same blue eyes that sparkled cheerily at Allyn when the two were presented to each other.

            “And where’d you pick this fellow up, then, Robin?” he asked blithely.

            “In my tent,” replied Robin, “with Marion.”

            Will’s brows leapt toward his crimson cap’s pointed brim. “Wish I were Allyn!”

            “Will…”

            “Joking, joking,” Will waved aside Marion’s halfhearted rebuke. He coughed. “…Mostly. So, Allyn-a-Dale — looking to join the Merry Men, are you?”

            “I don’t really know,” Allyn said doubtfully. “What are the Merry Men?”

            To Allyn’s heart-thudding dismay, Will answered, “We’re an infamous band of outlaws.”

            “Not really,” Marion hastened to jump in.

            “Not anymore,” Little John amended.

            “It’s complicated,” said Robin. “But we’re really not at liberty to tell you much more about it until we’ve spoken to Merlin.”

            “That would be King Arthur’s chief counselor and illustrious wizard,” Will said in answer to Allyn’s questioning expression. “He literally runs the show around here, so—”

            “No,” said Little John, his gaze a grim weight on Will Scarlet.

            “Oh, would you chillax, you pedant?” Will huffed, facial muscles ticking with minor irritation. “I know you think the Outsiders have been using the word with nary a care to its meaning, of late, but I know what ‘literally’ means, and in this case, I literally meant ‘literally’!”

            The marginal lowering of Little John’s brow silently warned what he would literally do to Will if he said that word but once more.

            “And they’re off,” said Robin, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, Allyn, they only bicker like this when they’re both breathing.”


            Allyn’s lips twitched toward the beginnings of a smile, but froze halfway, his mind only just now becoming fully conscious of what he’d heard. “Robin,” he said, fighting a sudden swell of anxiety. “Did Will just say we’re off to see a wizard?”




About the Author 

Danielle E. Shipley is the author of the Wilderhark Tales novellas, the novel Inspired, and several other expressions of wishful thinking. She has spent most of her life in the Chicago area and increasing amounts of time in Germany. She hopes to ultimately retire to a private immortal forest. But first, there are stories to make.




Saturday, 5 September 2015

Cover Reveal: Beyond the Wail


As some of you may know, one of my stories, The Weeping Lady, was accepted into Xchyler Publishing's upcoming paranormal anthology, Beyond the Wail, set to release next month. Well, here's where I give you the first glimpse at its striking cover.

So here's the grand reveal...




Beyond the Wail

12 Grave Tales of Love and Loss


Featuring chilling paranormal stories by:

Amanda Banker
Jay Barnson
Julie Barnson
L. K. McIntosh
Sebastian Bendix
F. M. Longo
Tirzah Duncan
Danielle E. Shipley
Alex McGilvery
Ginger C. Mann
A. F. Stewart
T. N. Payne 

and edited by J. Aurel Guay 









Saturday, 8 August 2015

Cover Reveal: The Bookminder

Another cover reveal today from those busy folks at Xchyler Publishing. This time it's for the historical fantasy novel The Bookminder by the very talented author M. K. Wiseman. Plus, I have another delightful book trailer.

And Now Presenting...







Just wonderful, with a nice spooky touch. I love it.


~*~


And now for a bit about the book.






The Bookminder by M. K. Wiseman





Istria, 1679 A. D.

Sired by magick and violence, sixteen-year-old Liara is found guilty of witchcraft and banished from her tiny village by the very priest who raised, then betrayed her. However, a mysterious mage steps forward to assume custody of her: Nagarath, the Wizard of Parentino, whose secret spellwork has long protected both Liara and Dvigrad from the ravages of war.
Despite Liara's best hopes, Nagarath refuses to apprentice her to his craft but tasks her instead with the restoration of his neglected library. Liara gleans what magickal knowledge she can on the sly, determined to learn, come what may. But the first test of her stolen knowledge goes awry and renews an evil wizard's interest in the people of the Limska Draga valley.
Only by tapping Liara's ingerent magick and joining it with his own can Nagarath protect Parentino from suffering a horrible fate. However, her discovering of his secrets destroys their fragile trust and ignites the darker tendencies of her gift. Now, he must rescue her from the influence of his mortal enemy before their powerful new alliance destroys them all.


Magick and the truth. 

Through both, Liara may unravel the mystery of her origins. But at what cost?





Tuesday, 4 August 2015

Cover Reveal: “The Story’s End”

Today I have an extra special treat, with the cover reveal for the seventh and final Wilderhark Tale by talented author Danielle E. Shipley. This book, The Story’s End, releases October 13, 2015, but today you get a sneak peek.

And here it is, Ta Da!





Another gorgeous cover for this series.





The Story’s End
Book Seven of The Wilderhark Tales

For Gant-o’-the-Lute, “ever after” has been less than happy. With the last of Carillon’s charm over him gone, the minstrel-king puts royalty behind him in pursuit of the music he once knew and the lifelong dream he let slip through his fingers. But dark whispers on the wind warn that time is running out – not only for Lute and the apprentice in his shadow, but the whole of earth and Sky.



An enchantress’s curse turns a spoiled royal into a beast; a princess’s pricked finger places her under a hundred-year spell; bales of straw are spun as golden as the singing harp whisked down a giant beanstalk – all within sight of Wilderhark, the forest that’s seen it all.

You’ve heard the stories – of young men scaling rope-like braids to assist the tower-bound damsel; of gorgeous gowns appearing just in time for a midnight ball; of frog princes, and swan princes, and princes saved from drowning by maidens of the sea. Tales of magic. Tales of adventure. Most of all, tales of true love.

Once upon a time, you knew them as fairytales. Know them now as Wilderhark’s.


You can check out The Story’s End at its page on Goodreads:


Author Bio:

Danielle E. Shipley’s first novelettes told the everyday misadventures of wacky kids like herself. …Or so she thought. Unbeknownst to them all, half of her characters were actually closeted elves, dwarves, fairies, or some combination thereof. When it all came to light, Danielle did the sensible thing: Packed up and moved to Fantasy Land, where daily rent is the low, low price of her heart, soul, blood, sweat, tears, firstborn child, sanity, and words; lots of them. She’s also been known to spend short bursts of time in the real-life Chicago area with the parents who home schooled her and the two little sisters who keep her humble. When she’s not living the highs and lows of writing, publishing, and all that authorial jazz, she’s probably blogging about it at www.EverOnWord.wordpress.com.


Saturday, 1 August 2015

Cover Reveal: Sigil of the Wyrm

Today, I have fabulous cover reveal. This time for the soon to be released urban fantasy novel Sigil of the Wyrm by A. J. Campbell, sure to be another stellar book from Xchyler Publishing. And as an extra bonus I have the wonderful book trailer as well. So on with the show...


Drum Roll Please, and Voila!




Isn't it absolutely stunning?


Now here's a bit about the book.

Sigil of the Wyrm by A. J. Campbell


Richard Lampton never believed in fairy tales, so when a stunning stranger at his uncle’s funeral warns him of an ancient family curse, he pays no heed—until a very real wyrm attempts to destroy him. Now, with the help of a homeless runaway, a fledgling jackdaw, and a key none but he can use, Richard must find the courage to meet his death or his destiny as he plunges headlong Into the Weirding.




The book releases later this August, but you can pre-order it now from Amazon.



Book Trailer




Thursday, 25 June 2015

Cover Reveal: August's Gardens by Michelle Barclay

Today I'm part of a cover reveal, this time for the new fantasy/horror novel August's Gardens by Michelle Barclay. This upcoming book is the sequel to Morrigan's Shadows, and it's scheduled release date is August 18, 2015. And now on to the big reveal...




Isn't it a lovely cover?

And now for a bit about the book and author.


August's Gardens

Morrigan is beyond death, trapped in a hellish nightmare from which only the Artist can save her. The Fiend is behind enemy lines learning to reap what he has sown. The Artist reaches deep into his past to find a reason for the strange woman he now must rescue from the vile Dark Man. The Winged Man is forced to wait while all of the elements he needs to start war with hell itself fall into place. Will he fight alone or will his shattered family unite with him?



Author Bio: 



Michelle Barclay is the author of Morrigan's ShadowsRot and the upcoming novel August's Gardens. She lives on the South Shore in Massachusetts with her husband. 

Follow Michelle Barclay on Twitter and Facebook to learn about upcoming giveaways and how you can get a free digital copy of her novella Rot. For author news and very occasional updates, sign up for Michelle's mailing list.



Monday, 2 February 2015

Surrogate Sea Cover Reveal

Today is the big day for the cover reveal for Danielle E. Shipley's new YA book, The Surrogate Sea (Book Six of The Wilderhark Tales), and I'm pleased to be one of the participating blogs. So with no further ado, I present...


The Surrogate Sea




The Sea’s storm brought them together, and the Sea’s rules will keep them apart, unless the mute but melodious Muirigan can find another to take her place, freeing her to pursue the human man she loves. But when her plan collides with the schemes of the sly South Wind, a princess’s agenda to look for love in all the most fantastic places, and a prince whose head and heart have been long years at war, the result is a tragedy of errors from which the world might never recover.



The Surrogate Sea (Book Six of The Wilderhark Tales)

<> ~ <> ~ <>
An enchantress’s curse turns a spoiled royal into a beast; a princess’s pricked finger places her under a hundred-year spell; bales of straw are spun as golden as the singing harp whisked down a giant beanstalk – all within sight of Wilderhark, the forest that’s seen it all.

You've heard the stories – of young men scaling rope-like braids to assist the tower-bound damsel; of gorgeous gowns appearing just in time for a midnight ball; of frog princes, and swan princes, and princes saved from drowning by maidens of the sea. Tales of magic. Tales of adventure. Most of all, tales of true love.

Once upon a time, you knew them as fairytales. Know them now as Wilderhark's.


Here's the book page over at Goodreads 

The release date for this romantic, young adult, fairytale fantasy is:
Tuesday, March 24, 2015



Author Bio:

Danielle E. Shipley's first novelettes told the everyday misadventures of wacky kids like herself. ...Or so she thought. Unbeknownst to them all, half of her characters were actually closeted elves, dwarves, fairies, or some combination thereof.

When it all came to light, Danielle did the sensible thing: Packed up and moved to Fantasy Land, where daily rent is the low, low price of her heart, soul, blood, sweat, tears, firstborn child, sanity, and words; lots of them. She's also been known to spend short bursts of time in the real-life Chicago area with the parents who home schooled her and the two little sisters who keep her humble. 

When she's not living the highs and lows of writing, publishing, and all that authorial jazz, she's probably blogging about it at EverOnWord.wordpress.com.




Tuesday, 26 November 2013

Cover Reveal for Christmas Lites III

On Dec. 3rd, the book, Christmas Lites III, will be released. It's the third in a series of charity anthologies, where proceeds go to the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence. This year, another bevy of talented authors have come together (including me) to celebrate the season with their tales, sometimes in strange and unusual ways. And today I'm happy to show you the stunning cover art for the book, so on with the reveal:





About Christmas Lites III:

The Christmas season is upon us yet again. Yes, my friends, it is a time of giving, loving, and sharing. Within these pages is a way you can help many people desperately in need of love, support, and goodness: the victims of domestic crime. By purchasing this anthology, you are sending every last dime made off this book to the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence. The NCADV is an amazing charity that saves these people and lets them know there is still hope, still goodness, and still a reason to carry on.
Twenty-one authors have joined in this year, giving their time and their stories to these people – and to you. We all hope you enjoy our holiday tales captured in bite-size pieces. Whether you read this on the bus, before bed, or snuggled by the fire, please, do read – and share.

Authors in this anthology:

Addison Moore
A.F. Stewart
Amy Eye
Angela Yuriko Smith
Ben Warden
Cassie McCown
Elizabeth Evans
J.A. Clement
JG Faherty
Jonathan Tidball
M.L. Sherwood
Monica La Porta
Ottilie Weber
Patrick Freivald
Phil Cantrill
Robert Gray
Ron C. Neito
S. Patrick Pothier
Tricia Kristufek
Vered Ehsani
*Brandon Eye bonus story

Editor/compiler: Amy Eye of The Eyes for Editing
Cover Design Kyra Smith

Link to the charity: www.ncadv.org

Monday, 15 April 2013

Greenwood Tree: Cover Reveal and Excerpt

Today we have another treat, with the cover reveal and excerpt from the historical mystery novel, Greenwood Tree by B. Lloyd.  Enjoy...


 

Greenwood Tree:
 
‘Well, what do all mysteries have?' said Aunt Isobel. 'Money, mistresses, and murder.’

1783 – and Lichfield society is enthralled by the arrival of dashing ex-officer Orville; he charms his way into the salons, grand houses and even a great inheritance from extrovert Sir Morton. 

1927 – and detective writer Julia Warren returns to her home in Lichfield to work on her next novel. Initially she hopes to find plot material from the past and set it in the present. Aunt Isobel, while making preparations for the annual midsummer ball, has managed to root out an old journal from 1783 which might prove a source of inspiration. Once Julia starts reading her ancestor’s journal she becomes absorbed in solving the mystery surrounding officer Orville. Detective fever takes over, and she moves from reality to legend as events from the past seem set to re-enact themselves in the present, and she finds herself unravelling more than just the one mystery. Who was Orville? Who was the agent, Oddman, set to spy on him? And who is helpful Mr Grenall ? 

Pagan gods don’t walk away just because you stop looking at them. The Gronny Patch sleeps. Perhaps it dreams. Or perhaps not …

A complex, multi-layered story unlike any other, full of whimsy, horror, and mystery, shifting between the centuries and from source to source, until all the threads are finally drawn together by the imperturbable Miss Warren.

An Excerpt from the Book:


Chapter Three

1927

London


‘A country murder? In a big old mansion, plenty of house-guests and servants? Better set it before the War, then. How many bodies? Four? Five? Have you the odd family ghost you could throw in for good measure?’

Julia mentally heaved a sigh of relief. The ‘talk over tea’ was progressing better than she had expected, with her editor lapping up the storyline she had cobbled together at the last minute. She had set it in her aunt’s house on an impulse, reasoning to herself that she would at least have an excuse to retreat there on the pretexts of research and peace and quiet. She found she had an increasing desire to return, in fact. The mild excitement of earning enough to live on the edge of a crowded metropolis was beginning to pall; the traffic and endless round of theatres and clubs held little attraction for her after all, whereas one more cocktail party with the effete and affected of the literary elite might result in her committing violence.

As if reading her mind, Mr Williams leaned forward confidentially to say: ‘Do you remember that last do at Ashton’s? Miss Vane was there too.’

‘Yes, I do remember.’ Julia had found Harriet Vane somewhat intimidating. As for that beau of hers, thrashing out articles on free love and anarchy—yet always with his hair brilliantined in a singularly unappealing fashion. Somehow brilliantine and speeches on a new world order did not quite go together, at least not for Julia.

‘Well, she’s written an essay lamenting the dearth of good crime fiction, and suggests the crime novelists get together to form a club of sorts; she intends to start a magazine or such-like. Ashton is right behind her, they’ve managed to rope old Chesterton in, and Ashton was wondering if you might be able to contribute?’ Ashton was Chief Editor at Petrel Books and held frequent gatherings at his home in Kensington for writers and editors alike. His influence was such that one did not refuse his requests lightly.

‘Sounds perfectly terrifying. What do they want from me? Not another essay, I hope.’

‘I think it might be more interesting than thatwhy don’t I arrange a get-together, see what is in the air, so to speak? It’s quite true, after all, hardly a soul out there to write mysteries—even Mrs Christie’s “Big Four” only received very mixed reviews . . . so it’s up to us to make a difference, eh?’
Julia did her best to respond with conviction and enthusiasm. She managed to divert the conversation: ‘And what of Miss Vane’s latest?’
‘Haven’t read it. Haven’t even heard much about itwhich makes me wonder whether she might not be taking refuge in this magazine idea. We all know what the Muse does to writers at times, don’t we?’ Julia felt a quiet pinching at the stomach, a reminder of her own fallibility. Had he in fact swallowed whole her excuse for a plot? She tried not to think about that.
 ‘I can at least say you are interested in knowing more?’ Williams looked almost pleadingly at her. Julia dutifully undertook to write something and made her exit gratefully. If only she could escape London now with equal ease.

She was about to cross the street when she felt a friendly pat on her shoulder and turned to find somebody in the same sort of anonymous cloche hat and long straight coat as she was wearing.
‘Hello, May,’ she said, still in chirpy frame of mind from her meeting. ‘They’ve let you out for half an hour, then?’
May chuckled. ‘Oh it’s not that bad. Listen, why don’t we catch up—are you free for tea at Lyons’?’
The teahouse was a little full, but they managed to squeeze in between the crowded, clinking, murmuring tables, and caught up with each other’s news while they waited to be served. May was sympathetic about the editor’s meeting, even if she had little experience of the process. She was a dispenser and in her spare time an avid reader of crime fiction. Julia often had recourse to her when a visit to the Poison Section in the Library proved too far. They had met at a house party, where a case of petty pilfering within the household had caused them to apply their wits—successfully, as it turned out—and they had become close friends. When not engaged in deciphering motive and means, they often exchanged occasionally biting comments on the latest detective novel.
‘So, are you brimming with ideas?’
‘In a sort of a way, I think I am. But it’s not awfully clear yet—I need more material. Sounds dull, I know. But I have been feeling a trifle dull recently.’
‘You are looking a trifle peaky. Sounds to me like going to the country would do you good.’
Tea arrived and talk turned to reminiscence: ‘Do you remember that business about Mrs Clyssum’s necklace? I was just reminded of it the other day at Gracie’s; she had one just like it, very convincing. Why did she do it, really?’
‘Panic. She’d pawned the originals, remember.’
‘I do. But even so . . . poor thing. Still, it was fun, working it out, and I am glad we stopped the maid losing her job.’
‘That must have been the first time we actually put our heads together. Wonder what they’ve got up to since then . . .’
 ‘What have you been reading lately?’ Julia asked. May pulled a wry face and rummaged in her bag, producing a slim volume depicting on its cover a man peering out from under the lid of a wooden crate or box, with another man’s shadow falling across it. Emblazoned across the top half of the cover was the title ‘The Red House Mystery.’
‘I read it ages ago. Think I enjoyed it more the first time round. Wish you’d hurry up and get your next one finished. I’m running out of favourite authors.’
‘We were just talking about that. Apparently Miss Vane considers it a distinctly uninspiring time for crime fiction in general.’
‘I’m not surprised. Even Mrs Christie’s last one fell a bit flat.’
‘Yes, my editor mentioned her too. I wonder if there is some contagious detective ‘flu going around, which reduces the creative flow to pulp. I certainly think I have been infected.’
‘That doesn’t sound like you. Definitely in need of a change of scene, I should say. We both could do with something to wake us up a bit. Wish we had another mystery of our own to work out, like the Clyssum business.’
Julia looked at her. ‘So do I. Easier than writing the wretched things. We could set up an agency: Warren and Downe—Domestic Panic and Hysteria our speciality.’
‘Yes—likewise, Purloined Pearls and Pawnbrokers.’
‘Purses and Pusillanimity.’
‘Peripatetic Parrots and Peevish Pomeranians.’
The banter was briefly interrupted just as it threatened to become hysterical by the arrival of the waitress with laden tray.
They both tried to pick up where they had left off, but somehow today their usual flow of conversation slowed to a halt. Julia briefly allowed herself to be swamped by the voices from the surrounding tables instead—and soon wished she hadn’t:
‘I thought those emeralds were paste, I still do. As for her taste in art . . .’
‘More Art Nasty than Art Nouveau! Mind you, I suspect they would be worth something at auction . . .’
‘Did you read about her niece in the Tatler? Hardly surprising though, the poor girl must have been only too glad to escape, even if it was with the son of a greengrocer.’
‘A very wealthy greengrocer. It’s all money, after all . . .’
Julia enjoyed May’s company, and gossip did often supply a lot of material. But, stuck in the middle of the crowded room with its jarring sounds and cheap chatter, she now felt the tawdriness of smoky, grimy London.
There were gladioli in Aunt Izzy’s garden, and they would be coming into bloom soon: she could picture the late afternoon sun falling across them, turning them a soft apricot gold, and she wanted to be transported back to it at that moment, that very second. She was pulled back from her brief reverie by a squawk from May.
‘Look at the time! I must dash—now don’t forget, I want to know the minute you have decided who the villain is, and if there is poison involved . . . well, you know where I am !’
There was a hurried dispute over the bill, which Julia insisted on paying, then May scuttled off, leaving Julia on the pavement outside with promises of another get-together before long.
The brilliant blue sky prompted her to return home by tram. She climbed to the upper deck just so she could sit away from crowds and enjoy the trees lining the avenue. She craned her neck up and gazed at the leafy branches, and for a moment imagined herself back at home. Finally all those little scraps of dreams that had been hiding away all day returned tenfold to delight her, butterfly-like, with colours and warmth—the walks, the glades, the running hare and cheeky sparrow, the slow-witted blackbirds, sunning themselves in the middle of the lanes; all the whirling memories of the past crowded into her mind and she decided she had stayed away too long. What had seemed a pretext now became necessity. London was stifling her with its relentless gaiety, misery and recklessness. 

Book Trailer:  http://youtu.be/oWDByK6_Djs


Author Bio for B. Lloyd:

A Bustle attached to a keyboard, occasionally to be seen floating on a canal ...

After studying Early Music in Italy followed by a brief career in concert performance, the Bustle exchanged vocal parts for less vocal arts i.e. a Diploma from the Accademia di Belle Arti di Venezia. Her inky mess, both graphic and verbal, can be found in various regions of the Web, and appendaged to good people's works (for no visible reason that she can understand).

At present exploring the mysteries of Northumberland, although if there is a place she could call true home, it would be Venice…while the fields of Waterloo hold a certain resonance for her as well…

More here:

http://about.me/B.Lloyd
and here:

http://lloydanon.wordpress.com

For those who enjoy Twittery:

Do drop by @AuthorsAnon as she enjoys a chat
(Warning: Please expect occasional bouts of nonsense).


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