Book Title: The Hopfield Tales
Author: Mike Evers
Release Date: June 17th
Genre: Urban Fantasy/Historical
Publisher: GMTA Publishing, LLC
Presented by: As You Wish Tours
BLURB
There's always more to a town than meets the eye. You just
need to scratch the surface. The quiet
town of Hopfield is no exception. There are everyday people doing everyday
things - just like where you live. But history has a way of coming back to find
us. And the voices of the past can change our lives forever.
Three fabulous fables for your delectation and delight:
The Spirit Archer
Campaign of the Gods
Mark of the Legion
BACKGROUND INFO
The Hopfield Tales is a trilogy of three novellas. Each story is set in a town in present day
Yorkshire and involves people who have encounters with characters from English
history and legend. The tales include
the final, as yet unpublished story, Mark
of the Legion.
The blurb for the unreleased novella, Mark of the Legion:
Bentham
Cawley enjoys and quiet and humdrum life as a monk at the Brotherhood of the
Resurrection in Hopfield, Yorkshire. But
this is all about to change - when he unwillingly embarks on the monastery's
new friendship programme and meets remarkable octogenarian Ernest Teale.
Just
how does Ernest know so much about the past, and how is he connected to the
legendary but doomed Roman Ninth Legion?
Some
secrets wait centuries to be unlocked...
Review samples
for The Spirit Archer and Campaign of the Gods:
"This is a
novella that is entertaining, informative and imaginative. It's a wonderful
story that put a smile on my face."
(The Spirit Archer; Ann Werner, Amazon)
"This is a
good fun read which I really enjoyed. I particularly liked the way the scenes
cut back to the gods and their fated board game and the effect that had on our
world of 'Midgard'. A great, light-hearted bit of fun." (Campaign of the Gods; Ignite, Amazon)
The voices of the
past can change our lives forever…
From The Spirit Archer:
The boy checked
his voice recorder was still running and the story emerged through the mists of
time:
I estimated by the moon that it was the middle of the night. Pembroke had reckoned on the moment when the
French were in their deepest slumbers as the best time to attack. And we had
all agreed with him. My Welsh archers were in the trees near a lake, nearly six
thousand good men and horses ahead of us. High to our left lay the massive
ramparts of Château Gaillard, its portals dimly glimmering in the still, chilly
night. Approximately a hundred score yards, or so, in the distance were the
French lines. Philip’s men were
stationed all the way to the castle walls, and concentrated near the
river. You had to admire them – they had
replaced the ruined crossing with their own bridge made of boats. We could even see strange wooden towers
floating near the bridge, their torches acting as beacons as to moths. The
mighty French siege force slumbered away, oblivious to our threat.
We had been assured that a
fleet of nigh on seventy Anglo-Norman ships were heading up the river to deal a
hammer blow to Philip’s crossing - at the very moment of our land assault. King John’s tactical master stroke was sure
to win the day. We were poised to
attack.
Jamie listened
intently; his breath held in anticipation.
And then the attack
began. A horn was sounded and we swarmed
out of the forest. The infantry, led by
sturdy men at arms, marched steadily onwards towards the French encampment, and
the mighty cavalry units cantered around in a great arc to deliver a flanking
blow. On we went. My archers jogged
behind the infantry until we reached our position, and we readied our bows to
fire. The minutes seemed like hours. We fired our first volley, and then
another. We could only assume we were hitting our targets at that point. We could not tell in the mingled shouts and
screams ahead of us. A few volleys later, a great thunder of hooves announced
the arrival of the horsemen and a shift of the lines as a huge hole was punched
in the side of the French. What a noise
- such terrible sounds.
I sensed the French
retreating and I signalled my men forward.
We were near the river by now. I
ordered more shots, and my men replied the best way they knew how: dense clouds
of arrows fell upon the enemy - wounding and slaying. Never had I seen anything
like it. We sensed victory was near and
I felt my elation growing – as saddened as I am to say so.
Robin sighed.
But the ships never
came. They were stuck down the river –
the tides, currents and winds against them – the foolish had foundered on their
folly.
“But - you were
about to win, weren’t you? It sounded like you would,” said Jamie.
“Never assume anything in war, young man,”
replied the archer.
AUTHOR BIO
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Mike often taps out stuff on his
keyboard in the fantasy, urban fantasy and paranormal genres: a habit which his
wife finds fairly amusing - and sometimes a little bit strange.Mike's debut novel, The Chaosifier, is also available on Amazon, where it is ambushing unsuspecting fans of contemporary fantasy with its general mischief and mayhem.
Mike's educational background is in History, International Conflict Analysis and Education. He is qualified as a teacher in ESOL and Adult Literacy, and lives and works in West Yorkshire. He's married to a long-suffering wife, Joanne, and they have a young son called Joseph.
AUTHOR LINKS
BOOK LINKS
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