Today on the blog I have an extract for you from an unusual sounding book. I haven’t had a chance to read this book but it’s on my to-read list and if it hadn’t been already it would have been added after I read the extract. The point of an extract is to give you a flavour of the book and if this one is anything to go by this book is one of those rare ones that will actually make me laugh so read on and see if you agree with me.
Most stories begin with either an unforeseen turn of events or a problem.
Krank has a problem. For centuries, the people of the island have lived on the animals and plants to be found there. It was bliss and so the population grew. It was not until very recently anyone noticed that the quantity of plants and animals had not. The delicate balance of the ecosystem has tipped and food is dwindling.
The King assigned the island’s two resident self-proclaimed geniuses, the Creators, to find a solution. The fruits of their labour ripen into the invention of the world’s first aquatic transportation device and promises to provide passage from the island to search further afield for food and resources.
So, there it is. Problem solved. End of story. Barring any unforeseen turn of events…
Link: Amazon UK
He trudged up and down the hills in the early sun in a mild trance. The land was a forgiving place and he knew which way to go, so he just let his legs get on with it. Occasionally he had to negotiate a stream or rough piece of terrain, but other than that the morning’s hike was relatively straight forward.
Crops began to flood the landscape, at first Aereon mistook them as a natural change in the landscape. Until someone started shouting at him for walking through one.
Most people might have ducked down or possibly made a run for it. Aereon got on his tiptoes and waved exuberantly, shouting, ‘Hello!’
‘Don’t you dare move.’
‘I’ve got you now.’
‘Oh, great, listen, I was wondering how–’
‘Let’s see how you like this,’ the agitated agriculturalist swung a heavy pitchfork and made quite an impression on Aereon’s head.
Aereon’s eyes rolled around in his skull. Somewhere near him, two men were talking. He knew he recognised the words that were being said, but he was having trouble making any sense out of them. Somone slapped him on the cheek.
Slowly, Aereon blinked himself back to reality. He was sitting, slumped against a wall with his arms tied behind him. He looked down, his feet were bound too. Kneeling in front of him was the farmer.
‘You thought you could just come in here and steal from me, did ya?’
‘Is this Hudikvar?’ asked Aereon.
‘Goodness, how hard did you hit him?’ asked the other man.
‘Not hard, not hard,’ said the farmer, waving a hand dismissively. ‘He’s putting it on. Tryna get himself some sympathy. Well it won’t work, ya hear?’
The farmer moved and the sun blazed into Aereon eyes. He winced at the white pain in his temples. If these head injuries come back to haunt me in later life, I really will be very cross.
‘Are you listening to me?’ barked the farmer again. ‘You can’t go stealing from people. Not on my watch. You ask me, you thieves are the worst of them. I mean murdering, there’s honour in that. But stealing from another man, that’s just foul! What do you think he’s worth? Four fingers at least, I say.’
‘Just exactly how much did he take?’
‘Search him, what’s in that bag of his?’
The other man, who Aereon noticed wore a sturdy leather uniform under a metal breastplate and carried a sword on his belt, started to rifle through his bag. After a quick rummage, he put it back down.
‘Nothing but bread and water. Nothing that suggests he was stealing from your crop,’ said the guard.
‘Well then, he must have dumped it before I got to him. Either that or he never got a chance to. Fingers; off with them. Come on, come on.’
‘Sorry, sir, but innocent until proven guilty has always been my motto.’
‘You see!’ squealed the farmer. ‘He’s laughing at us, he knows he’s getting away with worse than murder.’
‘Sorry, sir. Nothing I can do. If there is no evidence, my hands are tied. Speaking of which, let me get those off you.’
The farmer made various protesting sounds as the guard untied Aereon.
‘Thank you. Now, could one of you point me in the direction of Rjkovorg?’
The guard gave the farmer an incredulous look. ‘I thought you said you didn’t hit him that hard?’
‘Well, a bit. Hard-ish, I suppose.’
‘You see,’ began Aereon, ‘I met this lovely young woman, named Asta–’
‘Asta! He’s in cahoots with the Night Bandit. Get him! Hands! Fingers! Chop-chop!’
Aereon looked at the farmer with some concern, the man seemed completely hysterical. ‘Yes, well, as I was saying, I met Asta and she–’
‘Excuse me sir, could I just ask you to pop your arms behind your back for me?’
‘Don’t bother with that! You’ll only have to untie him again to chop them off.’
‘I can’t do that,’ replied the guard. ‘This is way above my level. No, I’ll have to take him to Rjkovorg.’
‘Rjkovorg?’ said Aereon. ‘You’ll take me to Rjkovorg? Well tie away man, tie away,’ Aereon turned his back and presented his hands. ‘That’s it. Right, shall we go? Which way is it?’
‘Um. My horse and cart is just round the side of the farmhouse,’ said the officer, pointing vaguely.
‘Excellent. Right, come on, let’s get a move on.’
Aereon marched smartly round the building. The farmer stared with his mouth open as Aereon passed out of sight.
Linden Forster began writing at the age of seventeen. Divine Invention is his debut novel and it has taken seven years from the idea conjuring at the back of an English class to reaching the page.