tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42445945501058652602024-03-08T10:09:50.842-08:00The Promise Tree The Promise Tree Books One & Two:
Model turned travel writer, Dani Lace, by chance takes on the role of detective, drawn into a world of ghosts, myths, legends and lies.
Romantic, erotic and funny, with a deepening mystery in Book Two, Dani's final revelations are both moving and disturbing.Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.comBlogger60125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-6926476884801836142014-01-31T05:41:00.000-08:002014-01-31T05:41:40.257-08:00Breathing is FreeMy blog tells me that quite a large number of you read and liked the Coleridge poem 'To Nature'. It was plants that opened the door to life on earth for us. I'm told that they have been around for some 460 million years. If we are damaging our planet with the use of fossil fuels (and the current winter we are suffering is suggesting that perhaps we are), when did we start? Relative to the plants, we have been on earth for a very short time. With the hole in the ozone layer that we have, I felt it would help to know when and why we started to disrespect the life-giving plants of our planet. The Promise Tree, Books One & Two, attempts, through the course of a fictional story, to pinpoint the 'when' and 'why', and possible 'who'. But never mind the 'who': let's face it, <b>the deserts of our planet do not make the air that we breathe.</b><br />
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At the moment breathing is free. But will it stay that way?Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-74169278769793620922013-12-18T06:15:00.001-08:002013-12-18T06:15:37.204-08:00See in the LightOn Christmas Eve, in chapter 8, Edwina walks to church to attend the candlelit service. On her way she sees hosts of tiny white moths drawn to the streetlights. There are many levels of meaning in Book One of The Promise Tree and it is true that if one wishes to see in the light one must walk in the shadows. We are now signing off from the blog until after Christmas and will be with you again in the New Year. We wish you and all our readers a very happy holiday.Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-74614885434644932952013-12-13T05:48:00.000-08:002013-12-13T05:48:34.043-08:00Penance"So why a penance?"<br />
"It was a Christian city. On the 12th April 1204, the Crusaders, together with a huge army of knights from the Latin countries, attacked Constantinople and defeated it. The inhabitants were slaughtered and the city was pillaged and the relics of the Eastern Christian Church, worth more than their weight in gold so it is said, were brought back to the West."<br />
<br />
So what did this have to do with Friday the 13th?Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-32103758289691063512013-12-06T06:34:00.001-08:002013-12-06T06:34:23.306-08:00Christmas PartyA very content and smiling Jennifer was carried back down to the warmth of the party, placed very carefully on the dance floor and even more carefully released, keeping the petals of her skirts in place. Charles then folded her in his arms and danced with her as he looked for Dani.<br />
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Her head on his shoulder, she was dancing with their celebrity guest. Charles caught her eye and raised his. Dani smiled in recognition. She had guessed right and had asked Charles to invite Jennifer. More gently, had been her instructions to him.<br />
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A half hour later, as the couples passed, Dani slid into Charles' arms, slipping Jennifer neatly into her partner's. Only then, for Charles, did the penny drop.Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-39295229831665178372013-12-06T06:27:00.002-08:002013-12-06T06:27:49.088-08:00Christmas EveAs the first silvery pencils of light had touched the icicles that hung along the Friary wall, he had been walking up Little Street watching the wind blow the rooks about the sky. Christmas Eve: he loved this day. Child and man.Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-999028559150486942013-12-06T06:21:00.002-08:002013-12-06T06:21:44.117-08:00Spices of the OrientBy six o'clock the restaurant smelt enticingly of spices of the Orient and Christmas tree. A log fire crackled in the grand fireplace, hung with holly and ivy. Roxy, the headwaiter, who had been testing the mulled wine, whisked about the dining-room in an elf's costume, throwing his arms around the temp. girl, Edwina, and shouting 'You <i>shall</i> have a Christmas, Tiny Tim.'Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-77443130664088838462013-11-27T06:03:00.001-08:002013-11-27T06:03:04.961-08:00A story for those who careWhat is the connection between the arc of the covenant, the beautiful cedars of Lebanon which once grew all around the shores of the Mediterranean, a children's nursery rhyme and the giant figure cut into the chalk hills of the South Downs of England? If you don't know, find out! Look for yourself. Google The Long Man of Wilmington and wonder who created him.<br />
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My story takes us through the mind and imaginative wanderings of a young female photojournalist. In Book One a seemingly disconnected series of events in her life and mind lead her on, drawing her in, as if dangling on the end of a spider's thread. Inexorably she is pulled toward the centre of the web, to face the ungodly. By the middle of Book Two she has realised, but can she stop?<br />
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Her travels are occasionally bawdy, occasionally funny, well written and romantic. The majority of the locations in the story are real and the innumerable pieces of history used are, if our history books can be believed, also real.<br />
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The Promise Tree Book One is a pleasant read and the electronic book makes an ideal and convenient Christmas present.<br />
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The majority of the posts on this blog are short extracts from The Promise Tree Book One.<br />
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Enjoy.Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-72335803177816912242013-11-27T05:39:00.001-08:002013-11-27T05:39:20.144-08:00Land of DreamsThe door had opened to a land of dreams as easily as if she had just leaned on it by mistake and fallen through.<br />
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Hours passed and Christmas day drifted quietly and amiably into evening.Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-39385050415460667792013-11-27T05:36:00.001-08:002013-11-27T05:36:42.515-08:00Snowy ChristmasAt home the whole house would smell of Christmas cooking. Freda would be making great yule cakes and leaving them to rise by the fire. Soon he could be sitting by the fire, a thick slice of freshly baked and buttered cake in his hand, a cup of tea on the corner of the table.<br />
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With curtains blowing, the back door shut. His home; his Christmas. Isolated by the day to come, he settled in front of the fire.<br />
"Might we wake to a snowy Christmas, then?" Freda peered at him over flour-covered glasses.<br />
Walter shook his head, "Sharp frost and clear."<br />
With his face as red as a smacked bum, she wondered what had been chasing him. "All finished at the pub then?"<br />
Walter nodded, blew the steam off his tea and added a measure of whisky to it.<br />
"Mrs Lace get off to London then? To her do?"<br />
"Cuh! You should've seen her dress. Bit bloody cold for that sort of thing, I'd say."<br />
Ah. So that was it. She'd guessed it would be. He was jealous and flustered. She moved the whisky bottle and the mince pies nearer to him on the table.<br />
"I think there'll be a circus on the other channel."Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-88397978031882155772013-11-27T05:28:00.001-08:002013-11-27T05:28:34.581-08:00Yo Ho Ho<div style="text-align: center;">
"Yo Ho Ho</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yum Yum Yum</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Stick the Christmas tree up his bum."</div>
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A sip of bright Scottish amber and Walter was happy, stapling cupids to Christmas tree fronds above the bar at The Woodpecker.</div>
Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-6400113373708858662013-11-27T05:24:00.001-08:002013-11-27T05:24:09.289-08:00Santa's Nuts"Hang Santa up by his nuts."<br />
The pub fell silent. In that still moment, Mike turned to the Proctor sisters:<br />
"She didn't get what she wanted for Christmas, you know."Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-19939875439894175352013-11-27T05:21:00.001-08:002013-11-27T05:21:30.510-08:00Christmas Tree Fairies"You look like a fairy off the tree in that dress."<br />
"You can turn me upside down to see, if you like."<br />
"What?"<br />
"Everybody looks to see if Christmas tree fairies have knickers on."Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-6576337478534118732013-11-20T05:47:00.001-08:002013-11-20T05:47:47.266-08:00TitaniaShe had tempted Jack in his enchanted wood, made love to Walter the boy openly in the flirting sunlight, moved freely down the hidden pathways of gypsies to the land beyond dreams, where spring and summer rule supreme and fairies ride on unicorns. The door to their enchanted world had swung easily open. Half-naked in the wood with Walter she had been shown the Down before the figure. The wood, or Jack, was playing with her. So be it. She would play Spring, Titania, the sensual Queen of the Woodland, for the time being at least.Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-86695943959586115342013-11-15T07:04:00.002-08:002013-11-15T07:04:49.668-08:00Perfect MannersThey whispered love's whispers and she answered.<br />
"Love me?"<br />
"You know I do."<br />
"My heart keeps wondering why."<br />
"Shhhh."<br />
"I love you, angel."<br />
"I'll miss you."<br />
"Kiss me."<br />
"Hold me."<br />
"Forever, promise?"<br />
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She promised.<br />
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As she danced, all of her went with joy to the young men with lost hearts and perfect manners.Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-14036358039924267612013-11-15T06:56:00.001-08:002013-11-15T06:56:34.060-08:00Heresy"Well, the ingredients my dear. Yours is the nearest English wood, once forest, to France. Anne was educated at the French court. France is the land of the great heresy. Anne's home was Hever Castle, not far from here. The Friary, there, right next door to your wood, was founded by Simon de Roches, a French Templar knight late back from the Holy Land, from where the great heresy most likely came."Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-25009288866071264232013-11-15T06:51:00.002-08:002013-11-15T06:51:28.391-08:00Host of MemoriesTurning his face to the descending ice crystals, he shut his eyes: mmmm. Nice. Then, putting his plate down on a stall, he cut into the pudding with his fork. A sprightly dance of Christmas joined a host of memories in his mouth. That was good. Very good. A light pastry case with mincemeat filling, a thick layer of marzipan ice cream and baked meringue to cover. That was more than good: <i>that </i>made one remember the first ever taste. As porches of warm houses aand memories of parties burst upon his tongue, a girlfriend's warm hand in his, he walked her home in the snowy moonlight. Now he was smiling.Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-62064608921250768802013-11-15T06:45:00.002-08:002013-11-15T06:45:47.138-08:00Carol Singing<div style="text-align: center;">
'Of all the trees that are in the wood, the holly bears the crown.'</div>
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<br /></div>
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The voices of the Richards boys came to him clearly on the winter air. Carol singing somewhere round the village green no doubt. He felt a light touch in his hand, as if a child had just taken it. Looking down and all around there was no child to be found. </div>
<br />Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-77056118691376253282013-11-15T06:40:00.001-08:002013-11-15T06:40:27.649-08:00Star of EveningAhead of him to the east the first star of evening began to appear. Stopping, he watched it twinkling, dancing over the waves on the edge of the world. 'Spend this long night with me.' Had she whispered it to him, as they kissed and hugged under the mistletoe, in a grove of oaks? Or had he just imagined she had?Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-72505810743522904512013-11-15T06:35:00.001-08:002013-11-15T06:35:51.257-08:00Sandalwood & OrangesShe'd smelt of sandalwood and oranges.....Facing the great tree, her arms reaching round its massive trunk, he'd lifted her up. Then, their hoard of mistletoe around their feet, in a grove of oaks, she'd kissed him. It had been a good day.Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-14111949467423396042013-11-06T06:33:00.001-08:002013-11-06T06:33:55.349-08:00Glittering YouthBut how on this mossed bank of joy had he cheated the rooster? Or could this wood of love turn back the crow-blackened edges of mouths to the once rose-pink lips of glittering youth? An icy hand touched the back of her neck. Cheating the precipice of ages made her uneasy and she felt the wind blow cold in a far away wood.Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-89095779502459372822013-11-06T06:26:00.001-08:002013-11-06T06:26:55.051-08:00DaggerwoodAt the far boundary of his property, he could see the hedge of bronze and crimson leaves. Daggerwood. The wood of a hundred thousand arrows from the English longbow. The woods were full of songs, full of magic, full of history. But the song that bothered him was the one that came to him on the air, barely distinguishable from the clatter of branches in the wind. Children's voices all together. Sometimes high in the leafy summer canopy. Sometimes just over the hedge amongst the bindweed and nettles.Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-61843801186440655982013-11-06T06:09:00.003-08:002013-11-06T06:09:55.199-08:00PoetryI think it's true that, for some people, poetry is food for the mind. Words, odd words, taken out of their normal context, can encourage the mind to spread, to imagine, to dream. Read The Promise Tree.Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-66160296304143737062013-10-30T07:53:00.002-07:002013-10-30T07:53:43.179-07:00Twilight CompanionUnder the eaves, he could feel the heat of the roof tiles on his back. Stepping further into the shadows, he watched her preening in the old mirror above the bench, her hair the colour of his twilight companion.<br />
<br />
Adjusting herself, so that a narrow shaft of light lit only her eyes, she dampened her lips, darker and redder in this light. She brushed them softly with her thumb. Copper eye shadow, her lashes long and slow: in this light the image was just as she would like it. Her skin, no longer needing to appear tanned, was as perfect and flawless as that of a china doll. Again, she gently stroked her lips.<br />
<br />
His eyes shut and opened in a long slow blink, in time with hers, then dropping without a sound into the hay, he moved across the loft floor to the edge, directly above her.<br />
<br />
Edwina felt only a faint rush of air. Enough to make her start.Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-23018415079137254642013-10-30T06:46:00.001-07:002013-10-30T06:46:09.998-07:00Witch Hunt"Literally millions of women were burnt at the stake for being no more than herbalists or midwives, or just different. Above the herd. The Church of course had far more sinister reasons for raining down horror on women....It didn't really matter who the poor creature being tortured and burnt alive was; she was just a tool by which the Church could make women into the evil ones, never to be trusted or heeded."Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244594550105865260.post-10911584596094948212013-10-25T07:11:00.001-07:002013-10-25T07:11:40.370-07:00Ancient IrelandIt wasn't so long ago that Homer's Iliad was believed to be no more than a collection of myths and legends. But in 1870 Schliemann, by following The Iliad, discovered Troy. Is it possible that The Celtic Legend of Oisin in the Land of Youth and the High Deeds of Finn from ancient Ireland are, just as Homer's Iliad, not myth but based on fact? The observatory at Newgrange in Ireland suggests that its creators had an advanced culture and must have been studying mathematics, astronomy and time to a high level around 5,500 years ago, well over a thousand years before either Greece or Egypt had started their rise to civilisation. In 'The promise Tree' a female investigator starts to pick up the pieces. She is following the intangible, the invisible, the romantic in her everyday life. But gradually what she is following begins to have form. Were the Irish of Newgrange, balanced as they were on the edge of western Europe, all that was left of what was possibly the earliest advanced culture of our civilised world?Si Texenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14127626958337144747noreply@blogger.com0