I’ve been playing around with Canva and have just created this. I’m not sure whether it works or not but at least I’m becoming more familiar with the site and creating better ads for my books. Hopefully this might lead to more sales.
The new book is slowly coming together but it’s still in its early stage, as I’m getting to know Martha on a personal level. The quotes are taken from the new book: As the Crow Flies.
Rivenhall Thicket outside the manor of Witham in the county of Essex.
“The Witch Must Die!”
The chanting echoed around me, shattering the silence of the woods, causing the rooks and crows to take flight. The cries of the birds joined the screams of the men while they dragged me from my cottage, destroying my herb garden in their wake. The one not so long ago I had picked the plants from which I had healed their loved ones during the season of the sickness.
As the men hauled me towards the cart, the skirt I wore caught around my legs, causing me to stumble. In an effort to save myself, I threw my hands out. The rope, they had tied my wrists with became taut and I fell awkwardly, my head hitting the cartwheel. Rough hands pulled me to my feet. Gone were the looks of compassion they had once shared with me in their hour of need. I wanted so much to plead with them. To remind them, that it was I they had come for when they needed help to deliver their children safely into the world. When those same children had succumbed to the winter sickness, they had pleaded with me in their hour of need to cure their little ones. The sour looks in their cold eyes echoed the ice that froze their compassion. No word from me could release the devils that encased their hearts.
The warmth of the blood trickling down my cheek made me lift my hand to wipe my forehead, but a hard tug on the rope that bound my wrists stopped me. As they bundled me into the cart the horses displayed their impatience by stamping their feet, throwing their heads back, and letting out a whinny.
“See even the beasts are aware of the evil residing here,” said an all too familiar voice.
I refused to meet his gaze, knowing no matter what I said or did my fate was already sealed. As they chained me to the bars of the cage, I watched my cottage burn, the smoke rising up among the branches of the ancient oak trees that had protected me through many a strong storm. Tears streaked my face along with my blood. Master Chadwick stood back from the burning wreck of my home, the flames highlighting his wry smile.
“Where’s your black master now, Hag. No magic can save you from good Christian men.” he laughed heartily, believing he had finally driven me from my home.
I do hope you have enjoyed reading a small taster of As the Crow Flies
Chat with you again soon.
Paula R. C,