I'd like to welcome fellow Astraea Press writer Shea Ford to my blog today. She's talking about her brand-new release - The Stone of Kings. I'm going to give away a secret. I've read the book and I'm not lying, it was amazing! It had so many good things to it. You wouldn't be disappointed. Beautifully written, full of juicy historical info, set in Ireland (my daughter's favourite place in the world), and filled with real characters and a gripping plot.
Over to you, Shea...
Thanks so much, Kathy, for hosting me
today! I’m thrilled to introduce The
Stone of Kings to everyone! I’m one of those quirky folks who actually like
to write research papers. After I finished college, I would get cravings to be
assigned a research project. TSOK is
a blending of my love of research and history with my love of fiction. I hope you
guys enjoy reading it as much I did writing it.
Tagline: Just open the book...
Blurb:
Twelve year old Ardan is hopelessly distracted because he
wants to meet a real faerie. But when he gets his hands on a mysterious red
book loaded with faerie spells and accidentally sends himself three hundred
years into Ireland’s future, he soon learns that there are more important
things on which to focus his attention. Throw in some immortal druids, fun
storytelling, a touch of forbidden romance, along with the music and antics of
the legendary Irish harper, Turlough O’Carolan, and you’ll become swept up in a
very real Irish mythological adventure.
Abandoning
his work as he was so prone to do when he got excited about something, Ardan
led Thomas into the library, but not before doing the forbidden—he opened its
closed door.
Once
inside the room, both of them forgot about looking for a story book. On
Bresal’s hand‑carved writing desk was his
curious little red book. The old scholar must have been distracted by the sight
of his musician friend nearing the cottage from the library window and
neglected to hide the book as usual. Its pages lay open, and unmistakable magic
hovered over the leaves. They heard light random notes, like the sound of the
tiniest of wind chimes played by a faint breeze. As they gaped, they noticed
each tinkling sound corresponded with a tiny point of light which would burst
and disappear above the book.
Thomas
breathed out a gasp of surprise. “Who is this Bresal fellow anyway?”
Ardan
could not answer. He began to wonder the same thing. His pulse quickened as he
neared the book.
“What
are you doing?” Thomas dropped his voice to a whisper as he grabbed onto the
boy’s shoulder. The color in his face had drained away.
“I
merely want to read it,” Ardan said. He shrugged away Thomas’s hand.
“I
do not think we should go near it.”
But
Ardan continued nearing. Despite his own warnings, Thomas followed closely behind.
Ardan picked up the book and began to turn the pages. He expected to hear more
sounds and see the lights dance quicker, but instead, these features decreased
until the pages settled again.
“What
does it say?” whispered Thomas.
“Some
is in Irish and some English.” Ardan’s gaze, as expected, went for the Irish
text. He read aloud, “Solas agus airy biedh tú, Leabhar na mianach mo lámha
chun saor in aisce.”
Right
away, the tinkling noise intensified as did the lights. But what shocked Ardan
was the book lifted from his fingers and hovered in front of him.
“Saints
be blessed,” said Thomas and he let out a burst of high‑pitched laughter.
They
both stared in awe a moment until Ardan saw Bresal and Turlough advancing
toward the house from their walk in the garden. “No,” he gasped. His heart
hammered at the trouble he would be in if Bresal found them out.
“Does
it say how to reverse it?” asked Thomas, his voice raised in pitch.
Ardan’s
gaze scanned the pages, desperate to avoid punishment, but none of the lines
written in Irish appeared to fit the need. When Ardan reached for the book to
try another page, it shied away from him. Frantic, he read aloud one of the
English lines without comprehending the meaning.
“A
need I have to mend a mistake, a new time please, for lives are at stake.”
Nothing
happened.
“This
sounds like the right one,” said Thomas. “Perhaps you should say it in Irish.”
Ardan
could not find the Irish counterpart and so struggled a moment with the
translation then said, “Is mór agam a cheartú botún, le do thoil A am nua a
shaoradh ó na terror.”
The
book filled the room with such a bright light, Ardan could see nothing else.
Buy Links:
Author Bio:
Shea McIntosh Ford is also the author of Harp Lessons and lives in Florida with her loving husband of eleven
years and two boys, ages four and six. Growing up, she lived under the
delusion that prejudice and bigotry were no longer being taught to children.
Oh, how much she has learned. After feeling powerless as a first year teacher
when one student adamantly said that Americans should send ALL Mexican’s back
to Mexico, Shea has found her voice through her writing. While she knows that
bigotry probably won’t be eradicated altogether, at least she’s doing her part
to help decrease it.
Social Media Links:
Twitter: @SheaFord1
Thank you so much Kathy! I'm so happy you enjoyed it! :D And thanks again for having me on your blog today!
ReplyDeletePleasure, Shea.
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