Author: lazaruscarpenterauthor

Last week major changes rained down from the heavens as I and my publisher parted company after four years. Whilst sad and not without problems sometimes the universe throws a curve ball and having caught it, time to bounce it on the spot for a while. I enjoyed much of my time with WMP, it was because of their writing competition in 2018, Crach Ffinnant – The Prophecy first came into print followed by Rise of the Dragon and Ravens and Dragons. Our reasons for departure are personal and not for gossip. I will always be grateful to WMP for the time we had together but onward and upwards. With volume four ready for publishing and the final in my series under the quill, I have to make decisions which I am endeavoring to do. Considering trying to get another publisher I feel is a ‘red herring’ nowadays, and as my first novel, Ballad of Penygraig was self-published, I have decided to do the same with my Crach Ffinnant series. I am faced with a tremendous volume of work on top of my other writing commitments but like Mallory ascending Everest, I will get to the summit. This week has seen Justice Prevails almost completed for release (once I juggle PDF editing) it is on the starting line. The publisher I am using is the same as with my first self-published novel so I have faith in my exploits. But I do have to revisit the other three titles and prepare them for a second-edition publication and this is a lot of work. With several events forthcoming, new retail outlets, readings, and signings, I urgently need to replenish the stocks of my books. So my journey continues and I welcome what the universe has in store.

The tide of the Dragon turned, and by the spring of 1404 Owain’s army seized the castles of Criccieth, Aberystwyth, and Harlech. Henry’s men still in Wales were either dead, in chains, or changed sides and joined the Welsh to avoid the axe. Winter past was harsh, with freezing temperatures and deep snow preventing engagement and conflict for nearly three months, but our warriors rested and prepared for an onslaught against English strongholds. Owain and Tudur, together with their captains used the time well, drawing a strategy designed to punch holes in the English defenses. As new buds sprung to life, fresh attacks on English fortresses surged forth with haste and great force. Experience of past encounters demonstrated how lackadaisical and unprepared Henry’s men are, and they had not changed one iota.  The castles of Criccieth, Aberystwyth, and Harlech fell into our hands without too much difficulty, once again the element of surprise crumbling enemy soldiers into death and submission. Owain agreed to send a messenger if in need of my counsel, no summons came, but news of seizing the castles did.

I spent the winter months with Gwydion the dwarf on his farm. This would one day become my home. He told me last summer, I would inherit it all when he passed, including all the land and the magical hollow where ‘Ffliwt y Ddraig’ the dragon flute came into being. It was the first time in many years through this current winter, my life was truly my own, prophetic responsibilities shelved for a little while. Time is a healer, of this there can be no argument. Very tired, and worn out physically and emotionally after the last three years, I welcomed peace and tranquillity as the earth welcomes a warm sun. Hard work still continued at the farm irrespective of the season and the bitter cold held a way of refreshing the self whilst chilling me to the bone. Gwydion shared many stories as I did with him, and we spent wintry evenings sitting in front of a roaring blaze sipping sweet mead.

Being immersed in my storyline, around the next crag steeply shale slithering paths I write precariously to the valley below ever onwards. To see your story become words as all unfurl from visions in a never-ending creative self is such a magical creative time warp primarily, existing in the author’s mind only. I confess to almost drowning in ideas sometimes but each one is a seed to be fertilized within a storyline at some point. Crach Ffinnant was born from an idea, who was he, and what about his life? History tells me little except Crach was a dwarf and a prophet and seer to Prince Owain Glyndwr in Wales circa 1350 -1415. A blank parchment to be written like an artist with a new canvas and so the Crach Ffinnant series was born winning first prize in a writing competition with wordsmatterpublishing.com

Since 2018 Crach Ffinnant – The Prophecy was followed by volume two Crach Ffinnant – Rise of the Dragon, volume three Crach Ffinnant – Ravens and Dragons, and volume four Crach Ffinnant – Justice Prevails awaits release, and now the final volume five, Crach Ffinnant – Stronghold of Illusion os under the quill. My final volume is intended to be a blockbuster ending to the series and the fun I feel whilst writing is impossible to describe. Of course, as in all long stories some characters are no longer with us, erased by my rubber and killed off and despatched to history. Here is a short extract from volume five, Crach Ffinnant – Stronghold of Illusion.

As quickly as the storm broke it ended abruptly, and suddenly the sun broke through sweeping clouds warming the earth. I was soaked and needed to change my clothes, so I dismounted and pulled a dry blouse and breeches from the saddle bag changing where I stood. Wolf and Cwtch just shook their bodies drying themselves naturally in the sunshine. Cwtch, head down nibbled at short sweet grass. Wolf, snout to the ground feverishly sniffed here and there, before disappearing and bolting after an unsuspecting prey. Within a few moments, the huge carnivore returned with a freshly killed rabbit between his jaws and dropped it at my feet, stepped back, sat down, and stared up with big golden eyes looking at me expectantly.

‘Time for some food is it my friend?’ I asked rhetorically, his bushy tail wagged.

Volume four of the Crach Ffinnant series ‘Justice Prevails’ is completed and in the hands of my publisher, Words Matter Publishing. It is a fast-moving tale of magic, mystery, and battles of men and dragons, the war continues between England and Wales. Henry IV strives for control but Owain Glyndwr plots, schemes, and battles the English into submission and defeat at every turn. Tan-y-Mynedd must take drastic action as the young dragons struck with blood lust wreak havoc and destruction on English and Welsh alike. Crach Ffinnant becomes Dragon Master giving birth to a new era.

ABSTRACT

‘Are you okay, Fwynedd?’ I asked as he gasped for breath.

‘I’ll live!’ He smiled through a wild beard, wise old eyes twinkling like early morning dew from under bushy eyebrows, sitting like two hairy caterpillars perched on his forehead.

‘By dragon’s breath, you gave me quite a stir. Both of us are a little upside down, of that there is no doubt,’ I said, righting my own posture.

After all, I am much smaller than Fwynedd and it was only my strength that prevented us both from losing our footing completely.

We heard rumors from a blacksmith that the rogue dragons had attacked yet another village, creating mayhem by killing and maiming men, women, and children alike. They certainly had bloodlust and were killing indiscriminately, caring not for the nationality of their human prey. Welsh or English, it was all the same to them. Stories about the attacks and slayings were the only words on the lips of folk. Fear flooded across the mountains as dragons lurked in the sky. With fire and fury, they could attack at any time from out of the clouds without warning – strike, burn, kill and be gone in a flash. One dragon had been killed last month and parties of hunters stalked the remaining two.