Book news and kindle deals.

Before I write much more, you ought to know that Amazon are running a deal (they approached me – I’m not paying for it) with the kindle of ‘The Golden Sword’ over the next couple of weeks. It will cost 99p in the UK and $1.40 in the US.

Here is the link to downloading it in the UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Golden-Sword-Camelot-Inheritance-Book-ebook/dp/B00ANP31XA

And the US: 

https://www.amazon.com/Golden-Sword-Camelot-Inheritance-Book-ebook/dp/B00ANP31XA

As for me on this glorious afternoon, I’m sitting in my lounge (sitting room), looking out at the bare trees and drizzle. The tops of the moors are shrouded in cloud. It’s not great weather. It’s what we call in Cornwall, mizzly (drizzle and mist). Even the cats aren’t impressed!

One of the great things about this weather though is that if it’s too miserable outside, it’s better to stay in and write - cocooned in my very own storyteller chair.

So that’s what I’ve been doing and the book - number four in the Camelot Inheritance series - is forging along. It will still be a while until it’s out there but it’s coming ever closer.

I’m going to put an excerpt on the end of this post, so you can get a flavour.

However, I also wanted to flag up the next competition I’ll be running soon on here and on Facebook. It will feature a unicorn and Merlin’s Vow. The two go very well together!

In the meantime, those of you in the UK and other cold spots, keep an eye out for spring …

This one was taken recently on the coast close to us.
For those of you who've read any of my books, it's close to Pendrym. 

and keep reading. And should be interested in my latest reads, pop over to Goodreads. Here’s the link: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7020563.Rosie_Morgan

And now, from the beginning of Chapter One -

Tamar nudged Arthur. ‘Don’t look now … but that statue blinked.’

‘What?’

‘The statue behind you, the one with wings and a human face, it blinked.’

Despite her instruction, Arthur spun round. ‘The one that looks like a lion with wings?’

She nodded. 

‘O-kay.’

Catching a statue moving wasn’t new to him. He’d come across one before - but that had been on his side. He didn’t fancy finding out whether this one was friendly. It was way too big.

He caught hold of Tamar’s arm, ‘Let’s move.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Slowly.’

‘It can’t do anything … can it?’ Tamar asked. ‘I mean how can an ancient Assyrian statue, in the British Museum in the centre of London, do anything?’

‘I don’t know and I don’t want to find out.’ Arthur said, edging away. A memory rumbled. ‘It could listen.’

Tamar examined the statue’s head. A sort of headdress covered any ears it might have.

‘We weren’t saying anything worth listening to, were we?’

‘Just think what we were talking about!’

She did a quick re-run of their conversation and realised that the stuff they’d been discussing had definitely been worth hearing. She risked another look: the statue was massive, probably several metres high. It towered above the tourists and groups of schoolchildren. If it did do anything there could be carnage.

Arthur grabbed her hand, pulling her away as he whispered, ‘You’re the history geek. Remind me: why were these statues made?’

Tamar didn’t need to check her notes. ‘They were meant to be gatekeepers against evil spirits.’

‘Oh yes,’ he said softly. ‘Now I remember.’

Arthur flipped through his memories and one slid to the front of his mind: of him outside the Granite House on the moors, and the stone knights on the gateposts glowing - just before he’d been captured by the Crow Man.

He cast another look over his shoulder. A Japanese tourist was taking a close-up photo of the statue, standing under it and angling his camera upwards so that the photo would demonstrate the statue’s dimensions. As far as Arthur could tell it wasn’t moving, but he wasn’t going to chance a closer look; he and Tamar were probably the reason behind the blink.

‘We need to get away. We could be sending out vibes. After all, you are the Time Keeper. You haven’t always been stuck in this century like the rest of us, have you?’

‘That’s true.’ Tamar’s hand instinctively sought out the Time Keeper’s watch hidden deep in her pocket. Gentle, rhythmic ticks ran along her thumb. The fob watch had her name inscribed on it: Tamar Tamblyn, the latest in a long line of Time Keepers.

‘Come on.’ Arthur’s brown eyes were worried. ‘There’s a new café on this floor. It might be safer. We can get to it to through these galleries … and don’t look at any of the statues.’

Tamar didn’t need to be told. A blinking statue was enough to worry anybody; even someone who’d met ancient knights.

They attempted a nonchalant amble along the gallery, away from the human-headed lion, but the amble quickly turned into a brisk walk and then their legs took over and the walk turned into a run.

The first gallery was packed with carved friezes of helmeted men on horses. Insanely, Arthur’s brain buzzed with facts: the carvings had come from Greece and were over two thousand years old. ‘I don’t need to know this now!’ he thought as they hurtled past.  

Arthur knew without a shadow of a doubt that if Tamar said that she’d seen a statue blink - it had blinked. He also realised that when inanimate objects begin stirring it’s usually time to make a retreat.

‘I knew this school trip was a bad idea,’ he muttered, as they skidded past a group of excitable Italians. ‘We’re away from Cornwall, and we’re separated from the rest of the Guardians.’

‘Not much we can do about that now,’ Tamar pointed out. ‘Boy, this place is a maze, where’s the café?’

‘Through here – come on.’

They ran past more statues and galleries of antique objects. Lively chatter bounced off the stone pillars and floors, and cameras clicked, storing memories. Under normal circumstances, they’d love it here; but these weren’t normal circumstances.

Arthur checked the miniature sword hanging from the chain around his neck. The gold was at body temperature, which generally meant there wasn’t an immediate threat.

‘My sword’s okay,’ he informed Tamar as they spun past a clutch of schoolchildren.

Instinctively she put her hand to her own silver sword. ‘So’s mine - and the pocket watch is quiet too.’

Sliding over the polished floors, they rounded another corner and there was the café in front of them; glossy and modern with just one statue in the far corner of a man on a horse. From what he’d learned so far, Arthur guessed that it was about a couple of thousand years old; Roman probably. But at least this one didn’t look threatening. . .