I am thrilled to be hosting a stop on the blog tour for WILLOW BLOOM AND THE DREAM KEEPERS by E.V. Farrell! I have an excerpt to share with you today check it out and enter to win the giveaway below!
About The Books:
Willow Bloom's biggest challenge is to organise her thirteenth birthday party. However, a walk in the woods near her home provides some big surprises - a mystical guardian from another world, a magical forest, and the discovery that her parents are part of a secret order that protects dreams. With the discovery comes a calling. A prophecy tells of a young one who can push back the dark forces that threaten to corrupt our hopes and dreams. Is Willow that young one? Can she take on the forces of evil, the Underlord Maliceius, and win?
Now on to the excerpt
The Keeper’s Book
Willow’s mother entered with a large brown leather book held firmly to
her chest. Her father stood up; Willow instinctively did the same. It was as if
a new presence had joined the room. But how could that be, when the newcomer
was a book?
“I guess we’re ready then,” Audrey said over the top of the book.
“I suppose we are,” Thomas agreed. He turned towards the door. “Shall
we?”
Willow looked from one parent to the other. “Where are we going?”
“Not far. Just taking precautions,” her mother answered. “It’s easier
if we just show you.”
“What for? Why do we need…”
“Quit yakking,” interrupted her father. “All will be revealed.”
Willow followed her parents from the study into the hallway. Halfway
down, just past the library, they came to a halt directly in front of an old
painting of their Cottage. She watched her father carefully remove it and lean
it against the opposite wall. He then placed the palm of his hand on the wall
where the painting had hung and began to move his hand in a geometric pattern.
Just as she was about to say something, a white light flashed beneath his palm.
Willow shut her mouth and swallowed. Slowly, he lifted his hand away. An
opening – a fuzzy-looking
hole – had magically
appeared in the wall. She stared as the hazy gap widened, grew longer,
stretching right down to the floor, until it was large enough for them to step
through.
“How…? I mean, what…?”
“Magic,” her father said. “Take my hand, Willow.”
She held his hand and they stepped through the opening. Her mother followed.
Letting go of her father’s hand, Willow found herself in a dimly lit room no
larger than an average-sized bedroom. The hole they had stepped through slowly
vanished, and the wall became solid again. “What is this place?”
“The Keeper’s Safe,” her father replied. “It’s where we discuss and do
things of a sensitive nature – so our magic world stays a secret. Every
Sanctuary home has one. This one has been here for hundreds of years. That’s why we could never sell the Cottage – even if we wanted
to,” he added. “The Keeper’s Safe wouldn’t allow it. It
would automatically repel anyone who showed an interest. Only Light Keepers can
own it. So when the time comes – we’ll pass it on to
you.”
“Wow,” Willow croaked. Her eyes danced around the room. A small table
with four chairs sat to one side and a sofa with matching armchairs took up the
rest of the space. The walls were covered with symbols, all glowing gold. Some
of them looked like the ones she had seen on Peonie’s armbands. Even the floor
and ceiling had them. Directly above her was a symbol of a triangle with three
horizontal wavy lines running through it. Another, close by, was of a
multi-pointed star contained within a circle. And a shelf, running the entire
length of a wall, had several large crystals placed along it, all of them
glowing an opalescent white.
“Wow,” she said again. Her eyes settled on a small wooden box at the
end of the shelf. “What’s in the box?”
Her father walked over to the box and picked it up. He lifted the lid
and immediately a small beam of light shone from inside the box.
Willow moved in for a closer look.
“Remember I mentioned different devices? Well, this is one of them,”
her father said. “It’s for communicating, so we can speak to other Keeper
members around the world with complete security. It even projects a holographic
image of the speakers at either end.”
Willow peered inside. The white glow came from a small, polished black
cube at the base of the box. “Is this from the Dream Keepers’ world?”
“Sure is,” her father nodded. “They’ve gifted our world with several
devices.” He gently replaced the lid on the box and put it back on the shelf.
“The crystals act like generators to power the room and the security field
around the house,” he added. Sensing her next question, he said, “Later. Mum’s
ready.”
“Willow,” her mother said, “come stand in front of me.”
Taking a few steps forward, Willow faced her mother. It was weird
seeing her parents in this way. They were different enough already. But now… Well, now she
would have to get used to a totally new level of different. But, she had to
admit, it was a pretty cool one. Who wouldn’t want to discover that their
family was from a secret magic world! Willow stood quietly, waiting for
whatever was about to happen. Her father stepped in behind her.
Her mother cleared her throat. “A transference of energy has to take
place, Willow, so I can pass the book on to you. It’s an introduction between
you and the book – to enable you to read it.”
“Okay,” Willow breathed, her heart pounding. She had no idea what her
mother was talking about. She watched, completely mesmerised as her mother
slowly lowered the book from her chest, revealing the front cover. A large
purple and blue crystal, enclosed by a green triangle, lay in the centre.
“Wow,” she whispered. That seemed to be her catch-cry since entering the woods
this morning; nothing else could better describe the day she was having. She
read the strange words on the cover quietly to herself then looked up at her
parents, confused.
“Understanding will come. But right now I want you to place your hand
over the crystal,” Audrey instructed.
Willow nodded. It wasn’t often that she was stuck for words. She gently
placed her hand over the crystal and a buzzing sensation went straight up her
arm, not unlike the strange feelings she had felt in the woods early that
morning.
With a reassuring smile, Audrey slipped one of her hands from beneath
the book and placed it on top of Willow’s. Amazingly the book nudged upwards
slightly. Her mother took her other hand away and let it drop to her side.
Willow gasped. The book was floating in mid-air, all by itself.
“Now,” her mother said, “I want you to leave your hand over the crystal
until I take my hand away. Ready?”
“I guess so,” Willow said nervously. She breathed in deeply, then
slowly breathed out, but her heart wouldn’t stop thumping. What was about to
happen? Was the book going to talk to them? Were they going to disappear inside
the book? Maybe someone would step out from the book? She remembered a movie
she had watched a few years earlier, Inkheart, where a book could create a
world as you read it.
Willow looked over her shoulder at her father and he gave her a smile
and a little nod
that meant, “Face your mother.” She turned back around.
Audrey closed her eyes and took a calming breath. “Ectu Tavis, Ruduxa
Hedronym.”
Willow stood with her mother, waiting. Long moments went by with no
indication of anything unusual happening. Then all of a sudden her hand felt
really warm and a light began to appear beneath it. She wanted to take her hand
away to see what was going on, but her mother’s hand was still lightly holding
hers in place over the crystal, and Audrey’s eyes were still closed. She
waited, regarding her mother’s serene face, which looked quite beautiful in its
trance-like state. After what was probably only a minute, but felt like hours
to Willow, her mother’s eyes slowly reopened. Finally, thought Willow.
“I’m going to lift my hand now,” her mother said softly. “I want you to
stand as motionless as possible while the Transfer takes place.”
Willow held her breath as her mother slowly raised her hand. Willow
then lifted her own off the crystal. Almost immediately, a soft purple glowing
mist began to weave out from the crystal towards her. Standing even more
rigidly than before, her eyes followed the mist as it slowly encircled her. Her
muscles gave a slight twitch at the unexpected movement of her hair.
She could feel the purple mist gently tugging and lifting each strand as if it
were tied to an invisible thread. One by one, the strands of her hair were
delicately pulled until all of her hair was standing on end. Willow could only
imagine how crazy she must look. The air around her became filled with heady
scents. Flowers were quickly replaced by a woody scent, followed by a sweet
honey smell and then a burst of fresh mountain air. Over and over, they kept
repeating in that order. She wanted to twitch her nose but didn’t dare.
The mist wove around her quite methodically, pausing occasionally as if
it was sensing something. She strained her eyes in every direction, tracking
the mist as best she could. A warm and gentle pressure moved up and down her
spine. She wished she had eyes at the back of her head right now, or at least
some mirrors. A short time had passed when, all at once, the soft mist started
retreating, gracefully releasing each strand of hair, layer by layer. With the
final strand of hair back in place, the mist spiralled its way towards the
book, re-entering the crystal and taking all of the wonderful scents in the
room with it. A wisp of purple mist hovered briefly above the book then
returned to the crystal. Willow’s legs softened like jelly. It seemed to be
finished. She waited a few moments just to be sure. “Is it over?” she
whispered. “Can I move now?”
Her mother nodded, dabbing moisture from her eyes.
Willow breathed out a huge sigh and moved her body out of its locked
position. “That was amazing – incredible!”
“You must appreciate… this ceremony isn’t witnessed very often,” her mother said
in a soft voice.
“I can imagine!” Willow said.
“I’m so proud of you.” Her mother leaned in and kissed the top of her
head.
“Thanks, Mum. But I didn’t do anything. I just stood there.”
“That’s not what your mother meant,” her father said. “It’s that you
are now officially a member of the Keepers’ secret world.” Thomas hugged his
daughter close.
“Congratulations, darling.”
“Let’s sit,” her mother suggested, indicating the small table with four
chairs. She held her hands out beneath the book and it slowly lowered itself
into her hands again.
Willow sat between her parents watching the mist swirling inside the
crystal. She could barely believe what had just happened, let alone everything
else since getting out of bed only hours ago. This wasn’t some kind of fairy-tale
encyclopedia or fantasy game manual, but a real, genuine magic book. She had,
after all, just seen it do magic right in front of her.
“Every introduction is unique,” her mother said. “The mist – the energy of the
book – responds to each
individual differently.”
“It’s incredible.” The book looked much older than Willow had
originally thought. She wiped her clammy hands across her thighs and gently
touched the words ingrained in bright red letters against the worn brown
leather. “TriGamon Udat u Svetlo Imata,” she read out awkwardly. “What does
that mean?”
“Touch the crystal on the cover again.”
Placing a finger on the crystal, a white glow now replaced the purple
mist, and something began to move inside. She leaned in closer and made out
what could only be words and symbols entwining themselves, but none that she
could recognise.
“What’s happening?”
“Open the book,” her mother smiled.
Her father put a loving hand on her shoulder. “This is the real magic,
Willow – watch.”
Willow opened the book and gawped. “The words are changing!”
“It’s written in a combination of ancient languages,” her mother
explained, placing her hand delicately on the inside cover. “When you touch the
crystal, the words change to that of the current reader’s language and when
you’ve finished reading, the original coded language returns. Only Light
Keeper and Helper families can read it. The crystal won’t interact with
anyone else. It’s a security system of sorts.”
Willow watched as the words began to unravel. “This is so cool.”
“The first time I laid eyes on this Book,” her mother continued, “I
thought it was the most wonderful thing I had ever seen… It opened up a
whole new world, and I don’t just mean the
Dream Keepers’ world. It taught me so many things – about myself – what I was capable
of. I wasn’t Awakened, but I was inspired to nurture my love of archaeology
instead. I acted on that dream and eventually became an archaeologist. I learnt
to recognise opportunities when I saw them, and obstacles just turned into
opportunities to see things differently, to get more creative.” Audrey gave her
daughter a playful grin. “There was one time, early in my career, when I
couldn’t get funding for a project from the usual sources. So I got together
with a friend and organised a huge gala dinner for anyone who was interested – not just the
inner circle of experts and donators, but for the general public too. You could
say it was an early example of ‘crowd funding’. We gave a screen presentation explaining the potential of the project
and offered visits to the site to any major investor if the project went ahead.
Which it did, and all from the success of that dinner. Once you know about the
effort involved in storing and creating our dreams back on Earth, well, you
learn not to waste those dreams.”
“Just another reason why I married your incredible mother,” Thomas
added.
Audrey smiled at her husband. “He’s such a charmer.”
“Of course!” He lightly brushed his fingers across the bottom of the
page. “We call this book the TriGamon. Every Light Keeper has one.”
“TriGamon,” Willow said, echoing her father’s pronunciation with the
longer sound.
“So that’s how you say it.” She was still watching the words
change; she couldn’t tear her gaze away.
“And you know, not all of them are as old as this one. This one’s a
real survivor,” he said. “It’s at least three hundred and fifty years old.”
“Wow. So are there many of these books?” she asked.
“Very few. Which is why they’re so precious,” her father said. “But we
manage with what we’ve got. Any new Light Keeper family has to wait their turn
for a permanent copy. And it’s no easy task crafting one of these books, even
with the help of the Dream Keepers. This book is a collaboration of knowledge
and magic dating back thousands of years. Every part of it has to be
painstakingly reproduced with incredible accuracy through the formulas of
sacred geometry, a branch of mathematics that can map the templates to … just about
everything, really. It’s the language of the universe.”
“Let me guess. You help out with the formulas, right?” she said.
“That’s my girl. Head like Mira,” he grinned.
“Huh? Who’s Mira?” she asked, looking up for the first time since the
book was opened.
“You mean ‘what’s Mira?’ Only one of the most powerful computers in the
world,” he said.
“Right…” Willow shook her
head at him. “Thanks, Dad. You compare your only child
to a bunch of wires and programmes.” She really wanted
to start reading the page, but she could see the sparkle in her father’s eyes that appeared whenever he spoke of templates and formulas. Just
as well his enthusiasm for his beloved mathematics had been implanted in her
DNA too. “Okay! So tell me how it’s done.”
“Promise I’ll be brief,” he said with a wink. “First step: the Dream
Keepers take a spark of intelligence born from the original book created in
their world and then place it in a special container to keep it stable. Second
step: it arrives here and we slow down the spark’s vibration by creating a
compression field around it to make it more dense – but not too dense
because we need the spark to retain its unique properties so the book can float
and do all the other wonderful things it’s capable of. Then the spark is
unified with the crystal on the front cover and voila: a book of magic and
intelligence. There’s a whole lot more but we’ll leave that out for now. How’d
I do?”
“That’s got to be your briefest explanation ever. I’m proud. And I kind
of get what you just said, which is a bit spooky.”
“See? There’s no denying it: you’re my daughter.”
Willow turned back to the page and read the title out aloud. “The Three
Ways – is that what
TriGamon means?”
Her mother nodded.
“Walk of the Light Keepers,” she read next. Her eyes skimmed over the
page, picking up on key words. Welcome… knowledge… Ancients… duty… Doorways… She slid her hand
over the thick parchment. Again the smell of incense filled her nostrils,
though it was sweeter this time. The crinkling of the pages as she turned them
made them sound old and important, as if they were carrying the knowledge of
ancient secrets – which they really were!
“So what exactly are The Three Ways?” she asked.
Her mother softly ran her fingers over the words. “Well, for anything
to happen in our world, three things must take place, and in this order: an
inspired thought; an idea to create the inspired thought; and the combining of
number one and two with action, thus bringing the inspired thought into
reality.”
“Haven’t you just described something a bit like a dream brought to
life?”
“Yes.” Audrey smiled at her daughter and adjusted her chair a little so
she could face Willow better. “That’s the ideal. But what actually happens,
over and over again, is that number one gets left out of the sequence.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well – many people tend to create only from ideas born out
of their own, or someone else’s reaction to the world around them. They become
problem solvers and the world is viewed as a set of equations to be worked out
and manipulated.”
“Isn’t that normal? How else are you meant to make things happen?”
“Willow, let me put it another way. Imagine that you are following a
chocolate cake recipe to bake a birthday cake. This recipe has been developed
and tested by others over and over so that you can make it too. It’s a ‘normal’
cake recipe that everyone follows. Now, what if you wanted to make this cake a
little more special because it was for someone you really love? You think about
this person while you are mixing the batter when suddenly, ‘out of nowhere’,
you get the idea to add raspberries to your batter. Now your cake is no longer
the original recipe. You didn’t need the raspberries to make the cake work, but
you were inspired to create something different, inspired by someone special to
you. You changed the world, just a little, by adding the raspberries.”
“Really, Mum, it’s a cake.”
“It’s an analogy, Willow.”
“I know. What you’re saying is that too many of us are making the same
chocolate cake, following other peoples’ ideas. But to help things change, we
need to create using inspired thought too. Right?”
Her mother nodded. “Yes. That’s why so many people keep chasing ‘the
next best thing’ because they aren’t fulfilled long enough by anything they are
doing, and that’s because of how they are doing it; they’re not deeply inspired
by what they are dreaming up.”
“A bit like when a famous person wears something and then lots of
people want to suddenly buy what they’re wearing,” Willow said.
Thomas leaned back in his chair. “Precisely. They want something
because they’ve seen it on someone or in some form of social media. We’re not saying
that fashion is evil; it’s more about understanding that the idea to buy a
particular handbag or a pair of shoes can be triggered by the media and not
your inspiration. On the other hand, the person who designed the bag or shoes
may have been inspired to do so. We did warn you. There is so much more than
you can imagine.”
“Peonie said something like that,” Willow remembered. “There is so much
that your world does not see…”
“Only when you include all three steps can you have profound dreams and
creations that endure, and then become inspirational in themselves,” Audrey
continued. “Take the painting of the Mona Lisa, for instance. In itself, it’s
just a painting of a woman with a mysterious smile. Yet to this day it is one
of the most recognisable images in the world. And why? Partly because it was
painted by da Vinci using new techniques, but primarily because people are
fascinated by what’s behind that smile. The inspiration that da Vinci felt to
paint this woman in such a way is just as powerful as the painting. It gives it
depth. That’s why an original painting is worth so much. It gives the observer
access to the artist and the energy of inspiration with it. A print or copy
can’t do that in the same way.” Audrey regarded her daughter for a few moments.
“I think that’s a good place to stop for now.”
Willow didn’t argue. “Is it okay if I take the TriGamon to my room? Can
it leave the Keepers Safe?”
“Of course,” her mother said.
“The house is protected,” added her father. “It was the Transference
that could have attracted unwanted attention. The book generates a lot of
energy to do what it just did. We took double security measures – just to make
sure.”
“Unwanted attention? What kind of unwanted attention? Who might…?”
“There’s lots of magic out there, Willow – and some of it we
do our best to avoid. Where there’s light, there’s always dark,” he said.
Willow fixed her eyes on her father. “You’re saying there’s dark magic
out there too?”
Thomas regarded her thoughtfully. “Hmm, how can I put this…? It’s not that magic in itself is dark. Magic just ‘is’. It’s more about
how the magic is used.”
“Okay,” she said. “So how good are we, the Light Keepers, I mean, at
dealing with dark magic?”
“Pretty good,” he said confidently. “We’ve had centuries of practice
dealing with the Dark Forces – that’s another reason
why we have our rules.”
“Good to know,” Willow said. She closed the TriGamon and stood up.
“Wow, it’s really heavy.”
“It is,” her mother agreed.
“So what do I do to make it float?” she asked, visualising the book
drifting upstairs to her room.
“We don’t ‘make it’ do anything,” her mother responded with a trace of
disapproval in her voice. “The TriGamon is not in service to us. It’s here to
assist us. And it only floats when we’re in the Safe or performing the Transference.”
“Normal way it is, then,” Willow said briskly, though she was a bit
disappointed that she couldn’t command it up the stairs.
Thomas reopened the entrance with his hand while Willow watched
closely.
“It’s the symbol from the TriGamon! That’s how you made the opening,”
she said.
“Well done.” They all stepped into the hallway and Thomas picked up the
painting and hung it back on the wall. “Now, I know I don’t need to harp on
about the rules, but so you are fully aware, the TriGamon must not leave the
Cottage unless on official duties, and it can never be shown to anyone outside
of our magic community. Got that?”
Willow nodded.
“And always close it when you are finished. Never leave it lying
around.”
“Understood.” Willow adjusted her hold on the cumbersome book and
turned to leave.
“Enjoy, Willow,” her mother said. “And be patient.”
She was near the top of the stairs when she remembered that she wanted
to ask her mother where to put the book overnight. As she reached the bottom
step, she hesitated, hearing a despairing tone in her mother’s voice from
behind the closed study door. Very quietly, she moved in closer.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” her mother said in a low voice.
“She’s so young, Thomas! I know this is bigger than us and the timing is as it
should be – but she’s only twelve!”
I’m nearly thirteen, thought Willow.
“I know,” she heard her father say. “But if anyone can do it, she can.
She’s smart and she’s got a good head on her shoulders. We always knew it was a
strong possibility that she’d Awaken, and while it feels too soon for us, the
Ancients wouldn’t have been able to Awaken her if she wasn’t ready or capable.
She just needs to grow up a little, and this will no doubt speed things up.”
Yay, Dad! Willow’s grip on the book tightened.
“You’re right, I know,” her mother continued in that low voice, and
Willow had to strain to hear. “It’s just… this is such a
huge thing for anyone to take on. I’m finding it hard
to understand why they would choose her at this age.”
Thomas shrugged. “Something’s happened out there for the Protocols to
change. We’ll just have to see how it plays out.”
Willow turned as quietly as she could, praying the floorboards wouldn’t
creak, and tiptoed back towards the stairs. Her question about where to store
the Book would have to wait until dinner. With the TriGamon clutched to her
chest, she climbed the stairs and wondered what huge thing could be going on
out there in the Universe for her to have been Awakened right now.
About E.V.:
Elizabeth Farrell
was born and raised in rural Victoria, Australia. She worked for the Herald Sun
newspaper in Melbourne before moving to London to work for the Mail on Sunday
newspaper there. After spending all of the 90's living and working in the UK,
she returned home. Elizabeth currently resides in rural Gippsland, Victoria
where she lives with her husband and two sons.
Fields of
interest: Philosophy, Spirituality,
Archaeology, Environmental Sustainability, Health and Nutrition, Yoga,
Swimming, Cooking.
The inspiration
behind the book: I wanted to write a book that inspired and empowered our next
generation of people. With so many dystopian views and stories out there, I
felt it was important to portray a more hopeful future.
Giveaway Details:
3 winners will receive eBook copies of WILLOW BLOOM AND THE DREAM
KEEPERS, International.
Tour Schedule:
Week One:
12/10/2018- Mythical Books- Excerpt
12/10/2018- Book-o-Craze- Spotlight
12/11/2018- Loie Dunn- Review
12/11/2018- BookHounds
YA- Interview
12/12/2018- Lifestyle Of Me- Review
12/12/2018- Oh Hey! Books.- Interview
12/13/2018- Jrsbookreviews- Review
12/13/2018- Good Choice Reading- Excerpt
12/14/2018- The Suburban
Lifestyle- Review
12/14/2018- Jaime's World- Excerpt
Week Two:
12/17/2018- Zach's YA Reviews- Review
12/17/2018- Parajunkee- Excerpt
12/18/2018- mall3tg1rl- Review
12/19/2018- Novel Novice- Excerpt
12/20/2018- Christine's
Book Corner- Review
12/21/2018- Two Chicks on Books- Excerpt
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