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Wednesday, 25 November 2015

Emmanuelle Almira lived in Tehran from 1976 to 1980 in one of the most turbulent periods of Iranian history. During that time there was a revolution in an apparent paradise; an emperor fell from power, and a man, a saint for many, returned to his homeland. Correction: Jack Buckeridge 

Monday, 16 November 2015

SYNOPSIS: ASTROLABE OF THE FAIRIES The dark and the cold have invaded the magic Kingdom of Eala, imminent death is carrying all before it. None of the elemental magic creatures of the kingdom know why this is happening, but neither the most powerful magic nor the most legendary spells they possess can save the kingdom. The end is near. A Twilight Council is convoked in desperate search of a solution and all there agree that the only hope of salvation rests with Hefes, the blacksmith-magician, who many years before built Astrolabe of the Fairies, an extraordinary device that has the power to capture the astral light. Astrolabe was stolen by a human being, and its whereabouts are unknown. .A search for Astrolabe is undertaken by an odd trio of beings; the blacksmith-magician himself, a buffoon elf and Met, The King of the Gnomes. The journey through the kingdom will be plagued with adventures, extraordinary feats, fascinating magical beings and powerful enemies. Each step along the way will be a test, on each bend of the track a surprise will be revealed. They must hurry or the kingdom will be doomed.

Wednesday, 22 July 2015

The Fear of the Dance relates the story of Veronica Bloise, a young woman suffering from bi-polar disorder who in the manic flight triggered by the death of her father, braves a new and distorted world. We enter that world and follow the steps that lead to her murder some twelve months later. The book alternates from the past to the present as the detective Dardo Soler attempts to unravel the mystery of her death; the action taking place in the streets of Buenos Aires just prior to the collapse of the De la Rua government in 2001. Each chapter presents a hint of the turmoil beyond as the book settles down to resolve the riddle of her murder. Three working parts bring the book to life: the victim, the detective, and the city that spreads from the Rio de la Plata to the edge of the vast pampas beyond. The initial investigation suggests the killer to be one of the victim´s two lovers. But before long Soler begins to divine the chain of events that led to the presumed accidental death of Veronica´s father and the series of seemingly unrelated deaths that culminate in Veronica´s strangulation. Starting from a base of jealousy driven revenge the book veers subtly in another direction, that new course leading our detective into a world of fraud and corruption.

Sunday, 11 January 2015

THE OWNER OF THE TREASURE Norberto Vega Translated into English by Jack Buckeridge Nothing is more exciting for anyone than to discover the secrets of buried treasure, and this soon became apparent to the author, Norberto Vega Castro, when he moved from Mexico City to live in a small town in the Mexican hinterland. When he initiates the search for treasure he enters a world tinged by the supernatural in an area of the country where clairvoyants and shamans form an important part of the population. Soon after this adventure begins the author's faith is brought into question, as the presence of The Owner of the Treasure is revealed.

Friday, 11 July 2014

THE GREAT WATER -- JACK BUCKERIDGE "Time cures pain, time forms the seasons, time fertilizes the earth . . . time cures pain, time . . ." Amaru stopped repeating his father's words and trembled, staring ahead at the great watery vastness. He had never seen the ocean before and although he had been preparing himself for many seasons for this moment, he was held spellbound by the silent enormity before him. His father's words were those of his grandfather and the one before him. They belonged to no one in particular. They belonged to the speaker, and had steadied him so often before. But here, looking down on The Great Water, any reference to fertility seemed out of place in a world where no plants grew, where even the seasons could not be measured, where pain itself surely meant something else. He pulled a coca leaf from the small bag around his shoulder and sat down on a large rock. He did not need more energy to run harder. Two hours before he had chewed another leaf coming up the steep mountain side. But The Great Water made him nervous and he needed to come to terms with the shock of seeing it. It was nothing like the water he knew. In the mountains fast flowing streams surged down from great peaks, breaking here and there into falls or in long stretches where the water, painted white, howled like a hundred mountain cats. There was nothing like that here. Only stillness lay before him. "It just goes on and on." he whispered to himself, remembering the words of other Chasquis who had seen it." It has no end. " But everything surely has an end, he thought. Why should this be different? And if it does have an end, do other worlds lay at its edge? And if they do what would they be like? And as if released by the sight of The Great Water, a flood of images raced through his mind, as he tried to imagine people in the other world. Were they like those in his? Or taller and stronger? Did they too pray to Viracocha and the other Gods? What did they eat? Were there llamas there to pull heavy loads? Did condors soar above their lands? He closed his eyes and tried to still such thought. He wanted to simply observe the water,to let the marvel of seeing it seep into his soul. But the water had sparked a fire within. A thousand thoughts would not let him be. Nothing had ever done this to him before. "Time cures pain, time forms the seasons, time fertilizes the earth." he resumed the chant, eyes closed, preparing himself. He tried to imagine seeing mountains and snow for the first time. For one who lives in the jungle, or upon the coast, the impact of that first sight would be as great for them as this was for him. The thought pleased him; and made him smile. It meant that he had reinterpreted his shock; put it in a frame from which it could be looked at from a different angle. It was not the first time that he had done something like that. And every time he did, it made him wonder whether this tool of imagination was really his, or was God himself whispering in his ear. He opened his eyes again and shook his head. But this time the words had not worked, nor had the vision of snow. What lay before him had a power over him that he was unfamiliar with. He would need more time to temper his amazement.

Wednesday, 22 January 2014

It was a dark day for Marisa Larkin when she heard her mother’s voice. Not that she didn’t love her mother, of course she did, but Chloe Larkin had died six years before; which meant Marisa had lived six years without listening to her, without seeing her, without sharing the day with her! But then, suddenly and surprisingly she was back, along with Uncle Ralph and an old neighbor from Squirrel Hill. The three of them together in her head: chatting, arguing, screaming; stamping the turf of her mind as their own! Was it a bad dream, or far worse than that, a real nightmare? NOW AVAILABLE ON KINDLE READER