Hallowe'en Book Give-away Blog Hop

 If you've popped over from Denise' Blog Hop don't run away: I'm sharing my post!. Denise' linky is bottom of page.

 

 

My contribution is a double-up jobby

 

 

 

I first published this in 2011 - It's a time-slip flash fiction piece. 

 

 

I give you: Haunting!

 

 

 

 

“Don’t be silly, it can’t possibly have disappeared,” said Amy, kneading dough. “Who in their right mind would stop by to pinch an axe?” She paused, looked her husband in the eye, a glare of accusation. “I bet if I go out there, I’ll find it lying in the long grass somewhere.” 

     Jake threw his hands in the air, frustration evident. “I tell you I left it in the wood shed.”

     Mattie glanced up from her homework. “Dad’s right, mum. I saw him plunge it in the chopping block as I came back from feeding Jupiter.”

     Once again dough received a good pummel. “Then the chopping block is where it’s at.”

     “Was at,” snarled Jake. “O.K., fess up. Who moved it?”

      Amy's hand thumped the dough with zest. “You think I have time to waste playing shuffle the axe?”

      Jake watched as Amy panned her eyes around the kitchen, air of desperation about her. A grin spread across his face. “Lost something?”

      “I swear I left a damp tea towel, on the end of the table.” She glanced at her husband, hands behind his back. “Give it here.”

      He bared his hands. “Not guilty.” Laughter then rumbled from the depths. “Don’t look at me like that, I swear I haven’t got it.”

      Mattie laughed. “He hasn’t moved, mum, not an inch.”

      There was a loud thump and sound of splintered wood and the door swung open. There, in the door frame an embedded axe and blood seeming to drip from the blade.

      Jake stepped forward to shield his wife and child from a potential intruder, but none came forth. With bated breath, he wrenched the axe free and glanced back at Amy cradling Mattie to her breast. “Stay here.”

      It took but a moment to check outside, and Jake’s first thought was that of Jupiter in the paddock. Much to his relief the pony momentarily looked his way and carried on grazing. He checked all around the house, and then it struck him. Smoke. He could smell smoke. He dashed back to the farmyard, an unbelievable scene before him. It could not be, could not be happening.      

      He shut his eyes, prayed it was some strange vision. But no, there were numerous horsemen circling the yard, animal furs about their shoulders. They were warriors from another time, another place. He yelled at them. Threw stones, anything to distract them. He had to lure them away from the house, away from the burning hay barn, away from his wife and child. Not one of the horsemen noticed him, each stone falling short of its target.

      Oh no, Mattie appeared with a tea towel in her hand. What was Mattie doing?

      “Go back, Go back inside.”

      He ran forward protesting, shouting her name, but a warrior scooped her up, cradled her to chest and before he could reach Mattie the horseman turned about and rode off at the trot the other horsemen surrounding the lead horse.

      There was nothing for it but to get the shotgun. He lunged himself through the doorway, and there stood Amy kneading dough, Mattie at the table absorbed in homework.

      What the hell had just happened?

      He glanced back at the hay barn. No smoke. No fire.

      “What day is it?”

       “All saints eve,” replied Amy.

       He kissed Mattie’s head in passing, moved to stand behind Amy and wrapped his arms about her waist. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

      “Yesterday, I think.” She turned in his arms, floured hands about his neck and leaned into him. Their lips met in a familiar and lingering caress, until, “I love you, too,” followed by a smile, and whispered, “They come every tenth year.”

      “They?”

      “The horsemen.”

      “You saw them too?”

      “It’s my second time of seeing them.”

      “And you never thought to tell me when we moved here?”

      “The last time I saw them I was ten years old.”

      He glanced at Mattie. “She’s ten.”

      Mattie suddenly said, “It’s all right, dad. I belong, here.”         

 

That's all folks. Hope this caused a spine tingling sensation.

 

Now, if you'd like a Kindle copy of this 17th century swashbuckling novel answer this question: who was King of England in the era depicted?  The clue lies within the book cover blurb.  All those who demand a "treat" will have their names entered into a hat: so please leave your email address!



 

 

 

A 17th century romance involving forbidden passion, lust, betrayal, abduction and all set within Restoration England and the royal court of Charles II.

It's 1669, and Justine Thornton's heart is lost to that of Richard Viscount Axebury. Although wise and malicious counsel from family and friends warn of his reputation as a courtly rake, a chance encounter with James Scott Duke of Monmouth causes her heart to waver and suddenly her life seems infinitely charmed. But family indiscretion at the court of Charles II turns Justine's life from one of carefree bliss to that of surviving rogue intrigues and political ambitions.

As old and new feuds take precedence at court Justine becomes party to information that cannot be allowed to reach the King's ears, for not only does she pose a threat to one of the King's mistresses, the King’s brother too will be called to account for his actions. Upon Justine’s sudden abduction the heroic camaraderie of Viscount Axebury and the Duke of Monmouth pose an even greater threat to her kidnapper, and her father the Earl of Loxton is soon face to face with an old adversary. But who will prove to be Justine’s champion, the viscount or the duke, and can the king’s mistress be toppled from her elevated position?

 

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The Second Blog Hop is Hosted by Denise (Le Aussie)

My book give-away counts here too if you'd like to acquire said book.