The Witch of Lezzerat

Yes, we are on a bus, but we are on an awful lot of other things too. Rather than travelling from Route onto Route 13 we were actually travelling on feet of ground fish and plankton bones which ground down to form chalk. Roman London was about twelve feet below modern London.

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I first read this book about 11 years ago. Rutherford hit on a formula of historical fiction that worked charting the progress and development of cities through descendants of a cluster of families and seems to be repeating it for every world city. They are not good literature. But they are a right good read. He takes pseudo-Dickensian names like Ducker rude limerick anyone? Mary makes yer heart so light! That street Arab fulfils Victorian fears about the poor having lots and lots of children and taking over the middle classes by producing a man called Bill in , who grows up to become an Air Raid warden in However, Rutherford is keen to create a London where everyone is descended from a Saxon peasant.

Or, for the rakish characters, a bit of Viking blood. If this was still the case, and the indigenous population of this island was truly indigenous we would still be living culturally as pre-Roman Britons:. Enforced country dancing created by English feudal lords. As there would have been no jazz, no rock and roll, no jiving, no Viennese waltzing, no Argentinian tangoing. Get your morris bells on. At restaurants all you could eat would be sheep, liver, onions, blackberries, strawberries and more sheep. Breakfast would be sheep on toast.

Our hobbies would be limited to beheading, boar-slapping, war-starting and mass burials — with a bit of animal husbandry thrown in. Just forests randomly spotted with man-eating wolves. Now this was invented by a Scot, so we might just sneak this fellow in. Eastenders, where everyone is living in huts and using animal fat for Saxon candles? And 72 garden shows showing you the best way to roast a marrow for your thane Saxon lord. He does allow vagrant European randoms to seep in.

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I was just amusing myself, Mr Rutherfurd. But do not purchase on Kindle. For anyone who feels passionately about re-publishing obselete works from the s featuring ladies going hysterical in Bayswater drawing rooms because their dipsomaniac husbands have set alight to their ancestral home in Wiltshire using nothing more than a packet of lucifers and a copy of Punch from April , do hassle the Sensation Press at http: Please return to The London Bluebird if you enjoyed this.

This blog is updated every Thursday. Sometimes I went into offices and answered telephones. I got the taste for liberty and I liked it. I learnt the art of using it. I sat happy in that eerie silence that you feel in blocks of residential flats at My friends were robustly going about establishing their careers. They bought flats, shopped in Jigsaw, moved, had splendid cars, enjoyed extravagances I never thought of — and moved again.

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Back in my head space, the North London streets were nearly as peaceful in the middle of the working day as they are in the middle of the night. The air freed up and allowed you to think, and it was wonderful to think that the world and its hassles had temporarily forgotten me. Not only did I morally feel unobligated to do anything else, but I felt there was a moral imperative to the freedom I had serendipitously acquired.

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The question came in lulls, after coffee. It came from the bilious, the inquisitive and the sulky.

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It was underscored with worldweary incredulity and sometimes it sounded a little bit cross. My philosophy was built not on the accrual of money but on a reward system where I earned leisure. One week on; one week off. I earned, and decided to spend that money on time. I did time, like a prisoner in an office, and then I was rewarded time. Time, like money, means nothing if you do nothing with it. I woke up, had breakfast and smoked a Silk Cut King Size. I read history books, sometimes one in two days, whizzed through a vast selection of fiction works, started a short story and then took my washing to the launderette.

I hardly drank, never went to the hairdressers, and rarely went shopping. I read more books than I read during my entire Masters course a decade later. What I understood was how to be still in my own space; how I worked, when I should work, and what I ought to do with my life. More importantly, I learned how to accommodate, be the master of and enjoy, time. None of what I was doing felt like labour; it was all just me being me and doing what came naturally, anyway.

Unbeknownst to me, I was shoring up intellectual resources by banking everything I was learning which meant I was able to withdraw much of it for a MA ten years in the future. As the years have rolled by, and automony and financial necessity have caught up with me, I now find the world turned upside down. I am working like a Trojan. All the people who were strongly advancing their careers and sacrificing their liberty ten years ago are now at home all day, agitated and confused victims of le crunch de credite. It is the first recession of our major adult lives, and one of every two of my friends is blinking into the sunlight and coping with NGE no gainful employ in the near future.

They panic, of course. They get the glorious liberty of peace at They feel the value of it and understand it is meaningful. They get the quality of life without obligation, except that to yourself.

They wear what they want. They get that to give a corporation anything other than your time loyalty, devotion, conscience is unwise. They wander if life is made up of a different kind of stuff than the stuff they have been busy with for ten years. Silently, rapidly, space clears in their heads.

They stop buying new clothes and it never bothers them. Most of these people find jobs again, some in the same sector, but some in vastly different areas. One has pledged never to work again, although is unsure how to manage this unless she takes up prostitution. Everyone is — at the end of the process — happier. And I like to think everyone gets me a little bit more. People are anxious, exhausted and poorer than they were two years ago. Although I have to work now and will, no doubt be buried with a computer attached to me so that I can do some emails for my boss from beyond the grave I had my time, did my freedom and mined the various spaces in my head.

I just kept on doing my thing. Occasionally, when at a supper, or a shabby winefest deep in the bowels of Holborn, or polishing off a delightful pudding at a theatrical soiree, I fill a hole in the chatter by saying I used to work in local government. People spit out bits of meringue.

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About the Author For as long as he can recall, Brennan Smoot has been a fan of the fantasy genre. Print edition purchase must be sold by Amazon. Thousands of books are eligible, including current and former best sellers. Look for the Kindle MatchBook icon on print and Kindle book detail pages of qualifying books.

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Brennan M. Smoot (Author of The Witch of Lezzerat)

Gifting of the Kindle edition at the Kindle MatchBook price is not available. Learn more about Kindle MatchBook. Start reading The Witch of Lezzerat on your Kindle in under a minute. Don't have a Kindle? Try the Kindle edition and experience these great reading features: Share your thoughts with other customers. Write a customer review. Showing of 9 reviews.

Top Reviews Most recent Top Reviews. There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Please try again later. Kindle Edition Verified Purchase. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this story. I felt like I related to the two main characters and the way they were able to joke with each other. The author did a great job and bringing you into their world and with the end of each chapter I eagerly wanted to start the next to see what happened.

There were a lot of intriguing characters throughout the story and a lot of magical lore that felt like it came from a bigger world that would be interesting to learn more about. Looking forward to a sequel! A wonderful story and overall an excellent book. Smoot's gift as a story teller comes through early on and continues throughout the book. I ordered the paperback for a friend but after reading the preview I decided to buy the kindle version for myself. I read it straight through in a couple of hours and thoroughly enjoyed it.

If you give this book a chance you're sure to enjoy it. This is a good story that keeps moving forward at a good pace. Worse yet, with the existence of the boys, a powerful and evil master of sorcery, Dark Master Natas, will return.

Caleb and Lucas are the heirs to King Callam. With the twins alive, Natas begins to grow stronger as the twins grow older. The Sorcerer's of dark magic, The Dark order of the Draith, have found them and the time has come to reveal the secrets they have kept. When Caleb and Lucas' mother is captured by an agent of the Draith, Gavin and his boys must go into the world they left behind to rescue her, now placing the boys on the path to fulfilling the prophecy they worked so hard to keep them from having to follow.

Here they discover warring factions of humans, goblins, elves, and more. Nothing is as it seems and everyone has an agenda With agendas and secrets around every corner, the cozy lives that Caleb and Lucas once knew are coming to an end. Nothing is as it seems and danger waits for them with each step.

To get out of here alive, they must rely on their only shred of hope Destiny Is Calling The Dark Master Natas must have the blood of the boys to break free of the spell that has kept him bound for hundreds of years. The warlord Hathian, seeks to destroy the boys and claim Carsonia for himself.

The Knights of Liberty seek to find the boys and do whatever is in their power to prevent them from fulfilling the dark promise of the prophecy. And Gavin fights to rescue his family and use one last family secret to end this insanity, once and for all.