Featured

WELCOME!

A warm welcome to my author website and blog.

I’m overjoyed that my childhood dream of becoming a writer has been realised and I am the published author of two books … with more yet to be released.

Enjoy learning about my books. They are available in both paperback and Kindle format.

The blog below features my short stories and poetry, as well as a wide range of book reviews and travel and nature related articles. Please take a look around – I’m sure you’ll find lots to delight you!

“If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” Toni Morrison

BOXES OF REVELATIONS

I cleared out more than just old junk from the loft the other day.

An unwelcome task, which had been put on hold over the years, as other more important and interesting chores pushed their way to the fore. Finally, the urgent need for dates stretching back decades ensured there was no further postponement. After all the embassy required certain information to procure the passport.

My heart sank a little as I donned my cleaning garb of oldest tracksuit bottoms, worn jumper and gardening coat. Why did I leave this to cold autumn days, why had I failed to take advantage of the warm light of summer? At last with old trainers on and a bucket of clean water on standby at the bottom of the rickety ladder, I headed into the darkness of the attic. I pulled the light cord and a satisfying twang later the space beneath the roof was alight in all its messy fusty glory.

As ever awed by quite how much stuff accumulated over the years I gritted my teeth, clambered up, spotting spider webs in the darkest recesses. Was there time to scamper down to fetch a shower cap for my hair? Would goggles over my glasses be an idea? As excuses flitted around the edge of my attention, I set to the task with intense vigour.

Quickly any misgivings were replaced with excitement; a treasure hunt into my past. Boxes were shifted and sifted through with speed. The ones behind me to be hauled downstairs, the rest to be left for another day. Only two or three boxes were supposed to make it to daylight, yet ten found their way to my studio.

The dust and grit from the loft followed me, a hazy cloying musty cloud hung around my body like an unkempt aura! Once outside I beat the muck out of my clothes and performed an unceremonious jig on the patio, ruffling my hair as it was released from the confines of the green silk bobble!

Surprisingly it wasn’t the major items, the most vital papers, which reached into my heart that day of sorting, of tidying. The smallest, most insignificant objects tugged my emotions in a most unexpected manner.

I laughed out loud as my old troll sought to escape the confines of the box, its vibrant orange hair tousled, the white knitted dress shimmering with a light coating of grey dust. Yet its eager cheeky smile was intoxicating and I realised how much I missed my friend! Not to be abandoned again, my old / new friend stands proudly by my computer screen. Did I see it shift its feet to take a peek at my writing?

My brother’s green Morgan toy car skidded out of another box and landed with aplomb upon the carpet, the thick pile an impediment to any further forward motion. How had I ended up with this toy? Was it from our childhood, or more likely he lent it to my son during one of our visits.

In an instant I’m bombarded with such strong sensations I reel backwards, luckily sitting comfortably in my chair. Our childhoods, those of our children inextricably intertwined.

My next discovery leaves me beaming away as my head is filled with music. A badge lies proudly on my desk and I remember with joy and glee of being one of the first worldwide members of the Bucks Fizz fan club. With my two best friends we listened avidly to their music, devoured the club magazines, pinned up the signed group photographs, practised the dances endlessly. The sense of freedom, lightness, the sense of unhampered possibilities soared within me.

My greatest moments of enlightenment, such was the power and revelation, were reserved for the perusal of my folders.

Years and years of study notes, essays, so much work safely secured inside the multicoloured array of folders. So many courses, most forgotten, some seared into my heart. Keats was an immediate love and one not forgotten, but who was Bruckner? The Russian translations had me in shock, how did we go from knowing no Russian to translating Dickens into Russian and reading Chekov in the original language in less than a year? Recycling bag after recycling bag was stuffed full whilst empty boxes were tossed outside onto the lawn.

I saved the oldest of boxes for last. These I wanted to savour and wow, I was in for a treat! My passion for writing and literature started young I recalled, but my absolute love and dedication was a revelation. Collecting quotes I thought was a new pastime for me from my early days of blogging. Not the case as I discovered tiny cards with quotations on one side, the source on the other side. All neatly placed in a small box. The inherent wisdom of these floored me. I was barely fourteen.

Alongside these were pages of notes for my handmade magazine. In-depth articles researched, written, edited and finally published. ‘The Peripheral’ was my first foray into self-publishing.

Scattered loosely within a folder was a German magazine that featured articles about life, our hopes for 2025, our many fears but also beliefs that life would get better. On smaller A5 yellow sheets of paper the wise words of Socrates copied out in hand. Bless. How earnest was my young heart and soul? Bless it for caring so much.

The other day I cleared out not only my loft but also the cynicism and pessimism of modern life. I trashed my acceptance of life now; I threw away my belief that things can’t be better. I refreshed my soul with the beauty of youth, innocence and trust in people, a future, of humanity. I chucked out the ‘I can’ts’ with the exuberance of childhood ‘I cans’ and why not! It seemed so easy and free then.

They say I thought too much as young. I realise that was true to an extent … but the thoughts were on the wings of my heart flying high. Over the years my thoughts would dominate, take over and gradually dampen the imagination and carefree wonder of the world and all its magic.

A magic rediscovered in the loft amongst my musty dusty belongings. A magic released into the world!

©Annika Perry

I FORGIVE YOU

"Close-up of flower with many layers of pink and white petals, slightly darkened on the edges."

I forgive you, dear sublime tricksters glimpsed amongst the autumnal taupe. With your summer sheen you try to deceive me as for a second I let down my seasonal guard.

For over an hour I’ve luxuriated with the warm glow of sunshine upon my face, eyes squinted against the glaring rays as I’ve wandered around the Hall gardens.

"Large maple tree with glorious bright red leaves against green of fir trees and bluest of sky."

My eyes feasted upon the startling crimson maple in the distance, burnished as if alight; my vision lifted across to the golden hues of dancing grasses, above them russet oak leaves fluttering, twirling, released from the clasp of the branches, on their last flight of life.

All the time I’m fully aware of autumn. Yet here you are, at my feet, tucked neatly into the flower border, hiding beneath the bare roses. A sparkle of summer, your petals tinged with a love of light and life. Tugging at my memory of a bygone season.

"Large border of Pampas grasses swaying in the breeze, red leafed bushes to the front, blue sky."

I forgive you, con artist extraordinaire! With a sharp intake of breath I remain utterly still, coveting the treasure of summer, not wanting any sudden action to cause the precious petals to leave their anchor. Petals nigh free from blemishes of decay, petals bursting with gentle hues of pinks and the brilliance of white. On closer inspection though the ravages of autumn have started to touch them, the normal soft golden orb reduced to puckered sandy powdered puffballs.

I welcome your tenacity, your audacity. I salute your temerity. Thanking you for the gift of your deception, for returning summer to me on the cusp of winter.

"Ornamental pond with ducks swimming in it, bordered by pillar conifers, trees in autumn reds and gold, flowered water lilies in the middle."

IN THE MURK

Private people, political pawns
Scratching for survival on the barren plains.
Tufts of autumn grasses, scraggly skeleton trees
A frozen mist of grey
descends on them all.

Flickering flames fight for life
beneath four large twigs
crossed unevenly above
the mound of ashes.

Vacant eyes stare despairingly.
The route to freedom pushes back
Behind them an equally determined force
hems them in. No return to civilisation.

Trapped, the human hostages wait.
For Life. Or for Death.

As usual the world watches on.
Albeit through distorted crackly images
sent from the migrants’ phones.
The Press refused entry by both sides.

In the glare of publicity, but not.
In our sights, but not.

Days become nights.
Tens of migrants become hundreds.
Hundreds turn to thousands.

In an area bereft of anything
There is even less than nothing.

The masses gather
at hastily slung up rolls of barbed wire.

The Border.

Words are thrown through the
gaping holes of mesh,
Stones are hurled across the countries.
SNIP SNAP.
Shears ineptly
attack the coiled boundary.

15,000 official soldiers ahead.
Unknown army thugs to the rear.
2,000 imprisoned, homeless, unrepresented.
No voice. No advocate.

Humanity at its basest.

As the verbose political volleys
a
re strewn across the air waves,
As political threats are met by counter-threats
People Die. All hope diminished.

Resolutions are passed in amiable assemblies
Discussions continued over replete repasts.
Morsels from these luncheon tables
But a dream to the
Trapped.

Flown in by a malfeasant country
on the wings of promises,
of easy access to the West, of bright futures.

However much one might question
such nativity. The truth remains:
No one leaves their home for uncertainty.
No one endures such hardship.
Without real and absolute cause.

As the hoards gather in the frozen murk
Ghostly beings wander the earth
Human beings abandoned by the world.

For once, why not take the high ground?
For once, why not do what is morally right?

Let governments continue their wrangling,
Let world organisations issue
their impotent irresolute decrees
.

For NOW

At the border, save the people.
Allow orderly documented entry
From there seek the best way forward.

For NOW

May humanity take a step forward,
Through the murk, across the wire.

©Annika Perry, November 2021

THROUGH A NEW LENS

"Star-like purple-blue flower close-up."

How often do we happen to look but fail to see? Fail to take the time or effort to truly assimilate and absorb the life around us? Perhaps something is simply too far away?

"Muntjac deer peering from undergrowth in woodland."

A camera is ideal to focus one’s attention and as an amateur photographer a recent birthday present of a new camera reignited my passion for the craft.

"Two marigolds close-up, golden yellow, folds of petals with crystals of dew drops."

It rarely leaves my side; accompanies me on walks, to the garden, around the house. I’m overjoyed to share ten of my favourite photos taken the previous week and hope you enjoy them and some of the quotations they inspired me to seek out! Each one has taught me to look afresh at the world, showing me a new perspective on life.

"Blackberries, unripe green, ripening red and ready to pick black ones."

“So it is with blackberries. If you pull too hard, you may get the berry but you will lose the sweetness of it. On the other hand, if you leave it, it may be gone the next time you come by. Each person must find this point of equilibrium for himself.” Extract from Death of a Hornet and Other Cape Cod Essays by Robert Finch

"Dog running fast along empty beach towards pier in the background."

“He was mastered by the sheer surging of life, the tidal wave of being, the perfect joy of each separate muscle, joint, and sinew in that it was everything that was not death, that it was aglow and rampant, expressing itself in movement, flying exultantly under the stars.” Extract from Call of the Wild by Jack London

"Big wheel ride taken from below against white wispy clouds. Shows its dramatic height."

“How do you like to go up in a swing,
   Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
   Ever a child can do!

Extract from The Swing by Robert Louis Stevenson

"Single gull, close-up, standing on outcrop with blue sea in the background."

“His one sorrow was not solitude, it was that the other gulls refused to believe the glory of flight that awaited them; they refused to open their eyes and see.” Extract from Jonathan Livingstone Seagull by Richard Bach

"Single pink rose called Queen of Sweden, petals startlingly clear and gradually unfurled."

“When you recognise the sacredness, the beauty, the incredible stillness and dignity in which a flower or a tree exists, you add something to the flower or the tree. Through your recognition, your awareness, nature comes to know itself. It comes to know its own beauty and sacredness through you.” Extract from Stillness Speaks by Eckhart Tolle

"Autumn thistles against cloudy dramatic sky, white tufts of flowering thistles. In the middle on purple still flowering thistle."

“Everything has beauty but not everyone sees it.” by Confucius

"Colourful beach huts, seven altogether. Standing on the beach. The colours include pretty pink, green, blue, purple and yellow. All with small verandah."

FLASHES OF LIFE: A BOOK REVIEW

‘Flashes of Life’ a gem of a book! It is a wonderful original twist on short stories as within Pamela’s latest book all the stories are beautifully portrayed vignettes based on her own life and experiences!

Her writing sparkles as she reflects upon her childhood, her family, friends, work and her beloved partner. Her zest for life permeates through the pages and her sense of humour, her warmth, kindness and generosity shine through.

Every single story is captivating; I laughed out loud whilst reading some, others had me reaching for tissues. The author’s tenderness and innate wisdom touched my heart and within many of the stories, I recognised myself during various phases of my life. As she hopes in the introduction her smiles have indeed become mine.

Thank you, Pamela, for helping me to see my own life with a philosophical eye, letting my thoughts dwell upon my own guideposts, and finally, for introducing me to ‘fluffing my aura’ — how have I managed so far without this in my life!

Finally, it was a privelege to be asked to write an author endorsement for ‘Flashes of Life’ which is one of four on the back of the book! Another first in my life as a writer!

Rating: 5 out of 5 stars

Available: Amazon US Amazon UK

Publisher: Borgo Design

About Pamela S. Wight

Pamela Wight is a successful author of romantic suspense novels, THE RIGHT WRONG MAN and TWIN DESIRES; two illustrated children’s book, BIRDS OF PARADISE and MOLLY FINDS HER PURR; and a “flash” memoir, FLASHES OF LIFE.

Pamela earned her Master’s in English from Drew University, continued with postgraduate work at UC Berkeley in publishing, and teaches creative writing classes in Boston and San Francisco.

She lives in the Boston area with her “right man” and hikes the New England trails while concocting her stories. Wight travels frequently to the San Francisco Bay area for additional inspiration. She speaks to book clubs, schools, and libraries in both locations.

Read more about Pamela Wight, her books and writings on her wonderful blog Roughwighting. Connect with her on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest

SEVEN POSTCARDS

Dearest Bob,

The heron is in full flight alongside the canalboat, just like the one we saw on our first trip. Then it was so sunny and warm, now just drizzle and chilly. God, I wish you here.

Love you, Sheila xx

Dear Bob,

More downs today. Beth and Gary bickered non-stop through all three locks; remember those just before the Moorhen pub. You and I laughed our way through them, our playful giggles no doubt both a balm and irritation to fellow travellers. Much better than the rotten language and atmosphere permeating the deck and tow-path today.

Your one and only, Sheila xx

Hi Bob!

At last the sun and as promised I took out the painting set you bought for me. Thank you again! I think I’ve captured your likeness and spirit very well, although the colours smudged a smidgen. No, neither wine nor river water alas, rather tears. My eyes and my life still blurred, awash and adrift.

With all my love, Sheila xx

Bob,

You won’t believe it! I sold a sketch! I can just imagine your guffaw followed by your proud bear hug. The picture? A fair representation of the humpback bridge near Beasley lock. Oh, the tunnels we go through and this time no songs to echo inside them; our dear kind friends would be mortified if I broke out into ‘Three Little Maids’! That’s just between you and I!

Loving you always, Sheila xx

Dearest Bob, history buff,

You would have loved to wander around the ‘castle’ again as pictured on the front. Or as I see them, a heap of ruins, just stones. Last time I felt an ethereal presence. Do you remember? Now it all seems drab … dead. Oh dear, I fear I’m becoming a morose travelling companion. Three is such an awkward number.

Missing you, Sheila xx

Bob,

Laughter and smiles today! Ten locks successfully negotiated, without a sour word. Then pub lunch at the Keeper’s Inn! We all raised a glass for your birthday. Bother, I didn’t mean to cry then. Hate that you’re not here.

Lovingly yours, Sheila xx

My dear soulmate, husband, best friend, my Bob!

Home tomorrow! A bittersweet return. As the lone oak tree on the postcard, so am I — truly alone. Two months of crushing grief, loneliness, of missing you, our life together. Your spirit has been with me every day of the trip, it always will be. Though I’ll always treasure our time together, our memories, I must forge ahead with my own life.

RIP dearest Bob, our love will last into eternity. Sheila xx

©Annika Perry, 2021

The above piece was inspired by Writing Magazine’s exercise in which to write a story in seven postcards. All seven postcards to be from to the same person to the same recipient.

NB. All photos from Pixaby.

LIFE’S RICH TAPESTRY Woven in Words: A Book Review

Thank goodness for the blogging challenges that inspired Sally Cronin’s Life’s Rich Tapestry Woven in Words. An enriching and engaging collection of verse, micro fiction and short stories, her work is mesmerising, always uplifting and often humorous. Throughout humanity and the spirits of humans (and some animals) is a beacon of hope for us all.

Sally’s poetry is enticing, thoughtful and soothing; they are written tightly within the framework of syllables for various formats such as haikus and tankas yet explore a vast range of topics encompassing the wonder of the seasons, recognising human frailties and celebrating the warmth of togetherness. She manages to take us on a journey from cave drawings to digital code across the universe, from the mystical of the ugly troll with his bewitching music in The Moonlight Concerto to the enchantment of Fairies!

As a writer, one poem – an ode to writing – particularly struck a chord with me:

The Freedom to write

The freedom
and time to create
written words
to be read
by those open to our thoughts
intoxicating.


by Sally Cronin

Sally Cronin is a master storyteller and I was immediately drawn into the lives of the characters in all her short stories. Her writing flows with ease and self-assurance within this diverse selection of short stories. I was moved by the reunion of siblings, impressed how a story told through the point of view of a polar bear both touched me and touched on environmental issues. The reason for a black sheep was raised in one story and had me smiling as did My Mouse, a clever play on words and a predicament experienced by most of us!

The superb stories in The Underdogs section had me in awe of the strength of the individual personalities of the dogs. Later, in For the Love of Lily, I was cheering on as eighty-year-old Millicent found her courage to stand up to her overbearing son with the help of her cat Lily and her kindly neighbour Eric. This was an excellent depiction of what I hope isn’t a scenario that takes place often.

The final longer pieces in the book are under the title of Speculative Fiction and these are all exceptional and shows Sally Cronin’s incredible imagination and ability in writing across all genres.

A moment of alignment is superlative and left me with goosebumps (of the happy variety!) as a child, following her death, manages to cross from the other world for the briefest of times on certain occasions to talk to her mother. Great Aunt Georgina left me tear-eyed and is a wonderful and powerful story partly told through the use of old letters; a deft use of an evocative writing technique. The Enhancement Project combines the tantalising hint of romance between a surgeon and her patient cyborg, all against the backdrop of the end of civilisation. It is a terrific blend of human and futuristic, of dark and light, love and destruction.

I can’t recommend Life’s Rich Tapestry Woven with Words highly enough and look forward to reading more of Sally Cronon’s books.

Rating: 5 out of 5 stars

Available: Amazon US : $4.53 (Kindle) Amazon UK: £3.50(Kindle)

ABOUT SALLY CRONIN

Sally Cronin

Sally Cronin is the author of fifteen books including her memoir Size Matters: Especially when you weigh 330lb first published in 2001. This has been followed by another fourteen books both fiction and non-fiction including multi-genre collections of short stories and poetry.

Her latest release, Life is Like a Mosaic: Random fragments in harmony is a collection of 50 + images and poems on life, nature, love and a touch of humour.

As an author she understands how important it is to have support in marketing books and offers a number of FREE promotional opportunities in the Café and Bookstore on her blog and across her social media.

Her podcast shares book reviews and short stories Soundcloud Sally Cronin

After leading a nomadic existence exploring the world, she now lives with her husband on the coast of Southern Ireland enjoying the seasonal fluctuations in the temperature of the rain.

Sally’s magazine blog for lovers of health, food, books, music, humour and life in general is Smorgasbord Blog Magazine.

Connect directly with Sally on Twitter Facebook LinkedIn.

Smorgasbord Children’s Reading Room – #Reviews – #Adventure Annika Perry, #Bears Sue Wickstead

An honour to see the latest review of ‘Oskar’s Quest’ shared by Sally as part of her Children’s Reading Room! As always my thanks to Sally for her wonderful support to authors within this amazing community! Also a huge thank you to Vashti at The Writer Next Door / Vashti Q for the thoughtful review; they are so precious to writers and fantastic help for all readers!

Smorgasbord Blog Magazine

Welcome to the reading room and some recent reviews for authors on the shelves with books for up to the age of 12.

The first book today with a recent review is  Oskar’s Quest by Annika Perry.

About the book

Oskar is afraid of adventures. Yet one day he finds himself on a mysterious island which needs his help.Join Oskar on this unexpected and magnificent quest, where he finds not only courage but so much more…“It’s light, extremely enjoyable and very gripping.” Esther Chilton – author & editor.Perfect for ages 3 to 6.

A recent review for Oskar’s Quest

Vashti Quiroz-Vega5.0 out of 5 stars Gorgeous illustrations and captivating story!  Reviewed in the United States on June 9, 2021

What a lovely picture book! This marvelous children’s book is filled with beautiful and colorful illustrations and is a riveting story.

Oskar is an adorable little bird that was…

View original post 578 more words

THE SPIRIT OF THE FEN

THE SPIRIT OF THE FEN

The grace of an invisible hand flits across her cheek,
an ethereal sensation.
She leans forward, longing for more.

The bombardment of silence thunders in her ears
whilst the meandering of bumblebees
is amplified to
Concert crescendo.

Eyes closed,
she senses the trials of thousands of years
Swirling around her soul.

The ghostly guide tugs impatiently
At her hand.

‘Not yet’, she replies.
‘Soon, very soon.’

First she needs the grounding
Of the boardwalk.

As far as the eye can see
Reeds and sedge dance in the breeze
A bewildering display unleashed.
The unified being pulsating with life;
Its energy palpable.

The cerulean sky reaches
To infinity.
Unhindered by obstacles it sweeps down to
The sunbeam of golden land.

Ahead indistinct voices drift towards her
The unknown language beguiling.
The air punctuated by thumps of axes
Trees hewn by brute force.

A canopy of oak leaves looms above her
She shivers, sways and swoons
Into the arms of the mystical being.

©Annika Perry, May 2021

‘The Spirit of the Fen’ was inspired by my recent visit to Wicken Fen, the oldest Nature Reserve in Britain. Immediately I sensed an enchantment within the ancient fenland of East Anglia.

An inventive and enjoyable set of boardwalks has been created around the fen to allow visitors to the site whilst protecting the landscape and wildlife. It was thrilling to step out just above the water, gazing out upon the bewitching scenery.

The fens are made up of the fens, marshes, reed beds, farmland and woodland. There is a deep peat soil that is kept wet by rainfall and clean, chalky river water.

Within the low lying water reed and sedge are grown for harvesting. The latter is used for thatch roofing which is still used for many older buildings within the country. The earliest recorded sedge harvest was in 1414.

Furthermore, the fens are rich with a variety of floral and fauna with over 9000 species of animals, birds and insects thriving in the area. I only saw a handful of these alas! Charles Darwin in the 1820s favoured the spot for finding beetles.

The reserve was founded in 1899 by the National Trust to preserve its iconic habitat and the first parcel of land was donated to the Trust by Charles Rothschild in 1901.

A Reed Warbler

Although some parts of the southern fens were made into navigable waterways by the Romans called the ‘Lodes’, the majority of the fens were barely accessible before they started to be drained for farmland in the seventeenth century using windmills. Wicken Fen remained undrained and continued as a business for peat and sedge until the end of the nineteenth century.

Although Wicken Fen is currently quite a small area a new 100-year project was launched in 1999 to mark the 100th anniversary of the first acquisition. The Wicken Fen Vision is seeking to expand the fen to a size of 22 square miles to preserve and increase its exceptional biodiversity.

Finally, it was fascinating to learn about Bog Oaks upon leaving the Nature Reserve. These are remains of trees preserved in the waterlogged peat and just such a tree was unearthed in 2016 whilst a ditch was cleared, pictured below. Some bog oaks are from the Bronze Age and it is staggering to think that before me lay a tree trunk from possibly 4200 years ago!

Bog Oak, possibly 4000 years old

The magical aura of Wicken Fen stayed with me long after my visit, the peaceful, harmonious presence lingering within. It will not be long before I return to this unusual place of natural beauty to explore more!

AMANDA IN MALTA THE SLEEPING LADY: A BOOK REVIEW

With a unique blend of adventure, friendship, history and travel Darlene Foster has hit upon a winning and inspirational combination for her children’s books Amanda Travels.

The series is aimed at middle grade (aged 9-12) children, although from reading her latest book I feel it would also be suited for adept readers of a younger age as well as reluctant readers.

Darlene Foster’s latest in the series, Book 8, takes the reader to Malta after Amanda receives a letter from her best friend Leah. To receive a letter alone sends concern to Amanda in the modern digital age of emails. Leah hints that something is wrong, but gives no detail and wants Amanda to join her.

Amanda would love to leave the cold wintry weather of Canada behind her for the warmth and sun of the Mediterranean island but would it even be possible?

As with all children’s books, a resolution is quickly found and Amanda joins her classmate and his parents on their holiday on the beautiful island.

Immediately the author captures the heavenly warmth of the landscape, limestone buildings and history perfectly. In snippets, the reader is enveloped in the amazing historical elements of the island, some of which become central to the story whilst others act as a stunning backdrop to the action.

Any reservation I had that the historical might slow down the pace of the story proved unfounded as the plot is quickly propelled along. Although there are dramatic events such a brief kidnapping, ominous warnings, chases and unexplained killings of protected birds these are all pitched gently and safely for the younger reader.

Initially, Amanda cannot even find Leah and when she finds her it turns out that Leah’s aunt has become mixed up with crooks. Two criminals want Leah’s aunt, who is an archaeologist, to steal the 4000-year-old Sleeping Lady statue from the museum otherwise there will be consequences. Could Leah even be involved?

Luckily Amanda and Leah are not alone on their mission. Max is a helpful and able go-between and Caleb, the son of the family friend, provides many comic moments throughout the book, particularly with his strange phobia of fish and love of all things Popeye.

When finally they visit the famous Popeye Village he is ecstatic and his courage shines through as he has to rescue Leah!

I like how all the main characters are slightly flawed with their fears and how through working together they find courage, helping each other. The warmth and kindness is a beacon of hope!

Amanda in Malta is a hugely enjoyable book, the writing flows with ease and the plot had me eagerly turning the pages. The book took me back to my addictive reading of the Nancy Drew mysteries as young and I can see how readers will long to read and collect the whole series of Amanda Travels.

Although I have unfortunately not read any previous books within the series this is in no way hampered my enjoyment or understanding of The Sleeping Lady. The author slips in enough backstory to ensure this book is an exciting and stand-alone book.

I received a free copy of this book from the publishers via NetGalley in exchange for an honest and impartial review.

RATING: 5 out of 5 stars

PUBLICATION DATE: 11th May 2021

PUBLISHER: Central Avenue Publishing

GENRE: Children’s Fiction / Middle Grade / Travel

AVAILABLE:

AMAZON US: PAPERBACK KINDLE

AMAZON UK: PAPAERBACK KINDLE

ABOUT DARLENE:

A bit about me. I am a writer of children’s stories, a retired employment counsellor, and ESL tutor, a wife, mother and grandmother. I love travelling, reading, shoes, cooking, sewing, music, chocolate, walking on the beach and making new friends. My grandson once called me “super-mega-woman-supreme”. I was brought up on a ranch near Medicine Hat, Alberta, where I dreamt of travelling the world and meeting interesting people. I currently divide my time between Orihuela Costa in Spain and the west coast of British Columbia, Canada. My husband, Paul, and I enjoy spending time with our adorable dog, Dot.

CONTACT:

Do visit Darlene on her Blog or on Twitter.

Finally, I can highly recommend you listen to a wonderful interview with Darlene Foster on Rebecca Budd’s excellent Tea Toast & Trivia podcast. Their sense of fun is fantastic and their laughter infectious. It is touching how Amanda joins Darlene and her husband on their travels!