Product Description
SEERS
Meet Granny Beamish: telepathic, telekinetic, Highmistress of Barlesham Seers' Guild, and scary with it.It's all about Mindpower: if you think she's turned you into a mouse, you'd better re-home that cat!
War's been declared on the Guilds: some renegade Seer is systematically destroying them, burning out minds and turning Seers into Outsiders...just like you and me.
As Grandmaster Tukesley Meredith, man of honour, battles the troublesome succuba that haunts his bed, the Unsighted are on the move, and the last pair of breeding unicorns is being hunted for its unique Essence.
Can the hapless CrackCrack squad decide the Battle of Brim Knap? Can Granny and her dwindling band of allies defeat the odious Undermaster Coy (only in it for the sex-toys and the Ceremonial Underpants) and his chocoholic, control-freak Boss before the unicorns are dogmeat and the Seers' heritage is lost forever?
Meet Granny Beamish: telepathic, telekinetic, Highmistress of Barlesham Seers' Guild, and scary with it.It's all about Mindpower: if you think she's turned you into a mouse, you'd better re-home that cat!
War's been declared on the Guilds: some renegade Seer is systematically destroying them, burning out minds and turning Seers into Outsiders...just like you and me.
As Grandmaster Tukesley Meredith, man of honour, battles the troublesome succuba that haunts his bed, the Unsighted are on the move, and the last pair of breeding unicorns is being hunted for its unique Essence.
Can the hapless CrackCrack squad decide the Battle of Brim Knap? Can Granny and her dwindling band of allies defeat the odious Undermaster Coy (only in it for the sex-toys and the Ceremonial Underpants) and his chocoholic, control-freak Boss before the unicorns are dogmeat and the Seers' heritage is lost forever?
About the Author
Karen Wolfe, twice broadcast in short-story form on Radio 4, has written 7 comic-fantasy novels (6 of them featuring Granny Beamish) and a humorous dog-book, and is currently hard at work on a comic crime adventure (with dogs.)
She maintains relative sanity by means of long walks and copious measures of red wine.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
"Scat!Go on, clear off! And watch out for owls!"
Granny watched them scuttle into the darkness, two grown lads totally convinced they were fieldmice.Amazing what you could do with an air of menace and a bit of mindpower, All that mud'd take some explaining, of course, and them torn trousers, if they could talk without squeaking, that was.
Well, maybe that's learn 'em not to go breaking into folks'cottages, scaring poor old women, and messing with their stuff. Still chuckling, she went in and shut the door. Thomas purred and rubbed against her, wanting his supper.
"Well, old lad," she told him, "that's the best laugh I've had since them double-glazing women came!"
Then Granny poured herself a cup of stewed tea and sank into her fireside chair, preparing to let her mind out for the night. No television or book-reading for her: who needs such things when they have The Sight?
...her mind drifts out into the lane, through the Beechwood and along the water-meadows: touches the roosting rooks and the ducks dreaming amongst the reeds. Meandering along the Nature-Trail, it crosses the car-park, nipping into the "Rat & Pitchfork" for a bit of scandal. (It doesn't stay long, on account of the Over-60s Krisps and Karaoke Nite being a bit grim.)
Decanting itself onto High Street, it lingers over the W.I. Monthly Meeting...prize for the Most Suggestive Vegetable...then hangs around the chip-shop, filleting the incoming thoughts. No joy there, either.
Lazy as the moon, it wanders out beyond the village and on up the valley towards Brim Knap, hitching a lift on an owl's swooping flight, and soaring above the Guildwood, the Seers' ancient place, snags itself on something bad...BUGGER!...her mind snapped back like a rubber band, distracted by the steady dripping. Danged roof leaking again. Have to get it seen to: cost a fortune, she'd be bound. Grumbling, she got up stiffly, rummaging around in her small kitchen for something to catch the rainwater in.
Granny watched them scuttle into the darkness, two grown lads totally convinced they were fieldmice.Amazing what you could do with an air of menace and a bit of mindpower, All that mud'd take some explaining, of course, and them torn trousers, if they could talk without squeaking, that was.
Well, maybe that's learn 'em not to go breaking into folks'cottages, scaring poor old women, and messing with their stuff. Still chuckling, she went in and shut the door. Thomas purred and rubbed against her, wanting his supper.
"Well, old lad," she told him, "that's the best laugh I've had since them double-glazing women came!"
Then Granny poured herself a cup of stewed tea and sank into her fireside chair, preparing to let her mind out for the night. No television or book-reading for her: who needs such things when they have The Sight?
...her mind drifts out into the lane, through the Beechwood and along the water-meadows: touches the roosting rooks and the ducks dreaming amongst the reeds. Meandering along the Nature-Trail, it crosses the car-park, nipping into the "Rat & Pitchfork" for a bit of scandal. (It doesn't stay long, on account of the Over-60s Krisps and Karaoke Nite being a bit grim.)
Decanting itself onto High Street, it lingers over the W.I. Monthly Meeting...prize for the Most Suggestive Vegetable...then hangs around the chip-shop, filleting the incoming thoughts. No joy there, either.
Lazy as the moon, it wanders out beyond the village and on up the valley towards Brim Knap, hitching a lift on an owl's swooping flight, and soaring above the Guildwood, the Seers' ancient place, snags itself on something bad...BUGGER!...her mind snapped back like a rubber band, distracted by the steady dripping. Danged roof leaking again. Have to get it seen to: cost a fortune, she'd be bound. Grumbling, she got up stiffly, rummaging around in her small kitchen for something to catch the rainwater in.
