FEATURE: SECOND MOON MAP BOOK
THE PACK IS BACK!
The Second Moon Map Chronicle:
More Magical Adventures of an English Setter Pack
by Nina Green
£9.50: isbn number 9780953 053841 Publication date: 17th April 2011
ILLUSTRATED WITH COLOUR PHOTOGRAPHS OF THE AUTHOR'S OWN ENGLISH SETTERS
All Proceeds to ESA/Rescue
A special Limited First Edition
To be launched at the English Setter Association Breed Championship Show 17th April 2011
at the Kennel Club Complex, Stoneleigh Park, when Nina will be present to sign copies of her book.
Click on this link to: BUY NOW!
The time has come for D’Arcy to repay his debt to Grey Pelt for sparing his sister’s life when he and Destiny were little more than pups. He must make the heart-rending decision to set out in pursuit of The Quest. He has no clear knowledge of what this is, or what he is meant to do, but is driven by an inner urge that must be obeyed.
I live in his shadow. At times I feel him within me, mostly as Lady Moon reaches her full power and glory and lights the heavens. I feel it even when clouds billow and veil her face. The pull is unmistakeable and the power tingles along my nerves causing my muscles to twitch. It is then that the urge to lope freely over field and mountain, to poise on a summit, tilt my head and open my throat to give voice is strongest - and hardest to resist.
This then was the essence of D’Arcy’s deep and dark thoughts as he gazed at his image reflected on the surface of Merlins Mere, named for the falcons that roost in the stand of rowan trees at the far end. He carries the same burden as his great aunt Fenella. She also had the sable face mask that he sees now darkening his own reflection, but in him this sign is pronounced by the black line that streaks from left eye to ear, so that Alpha-She laughingly calls him her ‘Valentino’. But D’Arcy knows better: this is no romantic flash but the sinister mark of Grey Pelt who haunts the woods and fells of their Lakeland home.
A taster – of Ben relating D’arcy’s adventures…
‘He dragged on, sick with pain, aching with cold and griped by hunger pains until he could go no further. Both will and physical energy were depleted beyond recall. There were no more thoughts of failure, or even of returning to the Pack, only the desire to succumb to this will-sapping weariness and craving for sleep. The snow felt soft and warm now that he had given up the fight. At length he crept into a snow-filled depression, lay down and closed his eyes. He was vaguely aware that he may not wake up again, but no longer cared.
He was sinking fast into a warm, dark place from which there could be no return, but something was pulling him back. A strange yet also familiar scent was twitching at his nostrils but his eyelids were too heavy to prise open. The crunch of paws on crisp snow moving in his direction vaguely registered. Then the sound ceased and he was aware of a presence close-by. Something of the survival instinct still smouldered within and a small flame of self-preservation flared. With difficulty he prised open his lids and the sight that met his eyes made it impossible for him to close them again. He must either have already perished, or be dreaming the dream of the near-dead. A splendid creature stood motionless before him, hazed by the dying light of day. The pelt of bronze and gold was tinged with a rosy hue cast by the setting sun and dusted with snow from the branches disturbed by the noble head. A pair of slanted and startling blue eyes watched him without blinking.’
For more 'Tasters' visit www.englishsetterassociation.co.uk