A Call to arms

This weekend The Gospel of No one is available for e-book download and paperback purchase (In all territories). I hope you like my new novel, it’s a hybrid work of fiction and poetry based on religious themes and spirituality (and a little bit of horror too, as there always is in life). And as always, if you have any feedback, questions or comments; please let me know by any means.

However….This is my ninth book released, and please forgive the following rally cry:

Reviews, comments and feedback are the life savers of the authors world, as i’m sure you are all aware. For those who have read, downloaded or purchased any of my previous titles, please can I ask you to sound off in reviewing them at Amazon or Goodreads (The links should take you to my author pages). Even if it’s just a… cough cough (5) star selection/click on the options it would be really helpful getting my work out there and for more eyes to devour them.

And please be honest, if you didn’t like anything; let me know as it’s all creative critique. Of course, if it’s just name calling…then that’s just mean.

And in the world of reciprocity, my last poetry will be given away free for download this weekend (again, all territories). I’m very proud of this book and would like those who have not purchased it yet; to read, enjoy and share. Click the cover below for the link:

Echoes cover


Just an added reminder. I do not write for the dollars and cents. With donations to Room to read, this work is more of a passion than profit. Room to read promotes children’s literacy and gender equality in Asia and Africa. If you would like to get involved, or donate, or share a link to tell others; please visit their site by clicking the image below. Thank you.

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Little Black horn

 

Horn

LITTLE BLACK HORN

He’s a wounded animal. A dying breed who I keep here with me. I never intended him to stay after the first night. There is no selfishness with Little Black Horn. This is what I’ve named him. He’s a dying breed. I was draped over him, trailing my fingers down the prominent blue veins on his arms.

‘What are you thinking about?’ He asks me. I’m not thinking about the accident. That is what he is implying. I’m not thinking about how frail you have become.

‘That we really should be eating something. You know I want to, but we can’t be laying on top of the bed all day.’

‘Then how about we lay in it?’ He begins kicking the duvet down around our ankles.

‘I really need to eat. Let me cook us something special.’….


(Highly recommended and free this weekend. Click the images for link. For more information on Harley Holland, visit his blog here.)

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IMPERFECT, IMPERMANENT AND INCOMPLETE

She walked steadfastly onto the platform, her mind a buzz with silent yearnings to hear her name again over the muffled crowd. But it did not come. So she stood on the platform waiting for the train as a tear ran silently down her cheek. Only when the train had arrived and she’d boarded did she glance back to where she had left her.

She was nowhere to be seen….

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And though a part of her would always be incomplete, she smiled in that moment, knowing that she would never be more beautifully damaged in a thousand lifetimes; and never wanted to be anything else.


Taken from ‘Imperfect, Impermanent and Incomplete’. Part of the short story collection ‘An Impermanence of things’ – Out now in eBook and Paperback.

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Something for the weekend

Looking for something to do this weekend? Don’t forget, Echoes in Space: Cosmically collapsing poetry is out now in eBook format. Click here to get yours today and spend the weekend wrapped in stars and decaying words.

Looking for something to do next weekend? Don’t forget, Echoes in Space: Cosmically collapsing poetry is out now in paperback. Click here to get yours in the next few days and spend the following weekend wrapped in the celestial bodies and wandering words.

(‘Echoes in space’ is available worldwide…follow your regional amazon moon rabbit.)

For those who have been kind enough to download this already, may I encourage you to write a review on Amazon and Goodreads to spread the word.

Thank you. Here are some freebies:

SHINE

Crushed to Diamond dust.
Inhaled in the right light.
When the moon is bright.
Deep into your vines I travel.
Filling your soul with stars.

 

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Thank you all those who have been following, liking and commenting on my work.
This is just to highlight you can contact with my brain and words via the following also, so you can take havoc and consequence wherever you are. You can also get more info here, or if you wish; please use the contact form below for any burning questions. Once again, thank you for your interest and sharing.

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A Bhikku’s Tale

Deep in a forest of Inis Fail, there was a cabin, well hidden, in which there lived a solitary bhikku…

‘Bhikku Reilly of Fararden Wood has defeated the mad god Morpheo’s dragon with the help of Red City’s shaman, Murray. Now they face a much harder task.
In a fight with Cernunnos, Morpheo has broken off a piece antler from the horned god, which gives him immeasurable power over the natural world. Reilly and Murray, together with the Green Man, the Sybarite and the ghost girl, Tracy, must pursue the mad god and stop him from taking over the whole country of Inis Fail.

Their journey takes them to the Otherworld and back again, crossing the paths of many colourful characters and strange creatures.’

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Packed with Irish mythology and great landscapes for you to transverse,  ‘A Bhikku’s tale’ by Dave R. Jordan is worth looking up: Goodreads  & Amazon

Little Black Horn

 

Little black horn, weathered and worn; wondering about what to do.
He split the world and climbed inside, and out of hell he peaked on through.  

Little Black Horn: A Collection of Short Horror Stories:-

‘A woman struggles to hide the truth from a creature she believes to be her lover; a man journeys to Southern Italy in search of a witch; a child makes a pact with a voice he hears at the bottom of his garden.

From adult fairy-tales to suburban horror; dark intentions seep through this collection of tales from the imagination of Harley Holland.’

Buy the work in paperback or on kindle here: Little Black Horn

Check out Harley Holland also

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A linguistic form that can meaningfully be spoken in isolation

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Just a quick announcement to say that my books are now available in good old fashioned paperback form. No longer must your be chained to your phone or kindle to be whisked away to some wonderful, and sometimes frightening, worlds.

To grab them and get them into your idle hands, please click here.
If you’re unsure of what lies beneath the pages, then visit the books section to read a bit more. If you have any questions or comments, i’d love to hear from you (connect). Or, if you have read any of my work, then please feel free to leave a review on amazon, as i’m sure you’re aware, it’s pretty useful.

Thank you, and to those who have bought any of my works in the past; I hope you enjoyed them and I appreciate your interest. I don’t take any of this for granted. There’s more coming very soon, so watch this space.

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Thumbing the pages

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With the release of my new book ‘Impermanence of things’, my other novels are free this weekend on Amazon all around the globe; so feel free to download, and hopefully, enjoy.

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For more info on them, follow the birds.

 

Those who have already acquired the words of wonder, first of all thank you. If you would be so kind to leave a review to guide or warn others, it would be greatly appreciated.

As always, a mention that I support Room to read, which does wonders for children all over this green and blue planet of ours. For more information, please take your eyes over to see what they do.
Most of the profits from my work go towards Room to read, so rest assured any purchase is doing some good for someone else. Thank you.

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Flicking the pages

All my works are free to download today. Click here and follow the white rabbit…and choose a new friend.

And those who have already shacked up with them, please feel free to leave some reviews on Amazon to let others know what you think. Much appreciated, and I hope you enjoy.

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As it’s nice to get something for nothing; it’s nicer sometimes to give back. Give a little get a little and all. I like to support Room to read which helps support literacy and education around the world. I’m sure they would appreciate some contributions/time/love.
Thank you.

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Give a little, get a little

Today and tomorrow (27th & 28th), the following are free on Amazon:

Drifting in and out of sleep51j5Baft0DL._AC_US160_
Trying to remember where it all began, when I first started to feel this way. Is this real or am I still asleep? The hypnagogic state of uncertainty. Knowing the unfamiliar through the transitional magnitude of moments. Come with me, follow the path through snow covered lands into churches of splendour that play out a life steeped in love and lonely anger. Stay a while, and leave me where you find me; lying in bed and thinking of you, as I drift in and out of sleep…

Charting the spiral and ascension into something beyond, ‘Drifting in and out of sleep’ is a mix of stories and poems which bleed into one another over space, time and mortality. Starting in the snow covered forests of unknowing-ness, it traces the steps that mirror life; through emotional dependence, God, love and coming to the ever reaching self-absorption of space.

41UVbJC7ISL._AC_US160_Keep it Together 
The summer of 1977, in the middle of a blazing heat wave, the estranged children of the wealthy and eccentric Van-Blacks all gather at the infamous Nova-Manor to discuss recent family developments over Fourth of July weekend. Their father is dying, and now wishes to build some bridges with his children before he shuffles off the mortal coil. However, things begin to take an unusual twist with the arrival of Miss T., a Jamaican fortune teller who sweeps in under an air of mystery to perform a séance.

Secrets and truths slowly begin to be uncovered, helped along by the butler Mr Perkins, who knows more about the past then perhaps he should. Ghosts, storms and mysteries in the attic all explode over the holiday weekend along with the fireworks. With a body on their hands and new truths revealed, they are all forced to question whether they can live with the knowledge someone they love is a capable of murder. Independence comes at a price, and not everything is what it seems as they try to keep it together.

 

Remember, you don’t need a fiddly kindle; just the software that you can get for free here.

Also, any money from the sale of any of my books goes straight into the hands of the Room to read organisation. Doing good for everyone. Thank you.

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Drifting further

Now available 

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“Rest is best, such beneficial benediction. Resting from illness, resting from the world. I love to shut myself away, to rest my wounded heart. Yet it brings on a mouldy conditioning, decaying into my own lament. Sleep is always a release, yet sometimes I wake and cannot tell if I am waking or still dreaming. If I notice you are there, then I know it is a sweet dream. The kind that taste like chocolate in your mouth, a marshmallow in your heart. Sweet and delicious, I become addicted. It’s the nightmares that correct this headiness, stomping through my mind like a trampling dinosaur out for prey. I toss and turn, wrestling with the darkness, slipping in and out of something which I’m still unsure of.

Then the ringing began, buzzing through my skull like tap dancing crocodile teeth…..”

The mouse that roared
My mouth is full of blood, from biting my tongue so much.
The teeth are stained a crimson, like I’m a vampire.
What’s this now, be good, play nice? Do not shove the other kids in the park!
I never did, it was they who shoved me.
Colour inside the lines now, no need for flashy colours.
Subservient or spineless, which definition do you prefer?
You leave me here with a doormat face, ready for you to walk your muddy boots across my soul.
I am sorry, the end has come.
Do not be surprised by the mouse that roared, or the tiger that sprang from the jungle that you thought was never there.
You put it here, you did this.
I’m not going to apologise for being myself.
We cannot turn back the clock that ticks away annoyingly.
You cannot leave with this all over me.
Place me in the bell jar, the nut house, or the graveyard.
Tickle my bones with your superiority, and your need to be right.
Only god will judge me, and he’ll give me his chair to rest while I catch my breath.