Bøger udgivet af Book Writing Studios

Interest in the eons of the social life of humankind and knowing technologies change and knowledge grows faster with each generation, it would seem we may implode someday for want of something to design or think about. However, the generational interest of social and physical survival. That being said, it is my contention that a person today, 500 years ago, or 50,000 years ago are all driven by the same concerns: food, shelter, safety and social connectivity. My stories focus on those facets of life. THE FLETCHER'S GAMBIT, the second book in the Der Flechtemann Chronicle, Michael Simon continues his search for family ties in the folio of pages he and James, his German counterpart, have discovered in a niche of an old cloister room. The transcription from Latin and some cryptic code lead the two to find further understanding of the times and emotions surrounding the plight of the common person in 14th century Germany. The Holy Roman Empire addressed as such by the nobility of the time, placed extreme pressure on the peasantry of the time. Some Abbots and clergy of the Holy Catholic Church of the time, not to be confused with the Empire though loosely connected through politics, built their huge cathedrals on the backs of the lower classes and gathered great wealth. The ruthlessness of the sellsword, those mercenaries, often indentured knights of any manor, gave the criminal element of the church and the nobility the means to enforce the weight of poverty on the commoner. In book one, YAKOV'S RUN, Yakov Symon set out to earn money to pay off the debt of his farm and his gambling uncle Karl. The siblings Yakov, Anna, and Dieter get separated as a family and find themselves on different sides of the law. Yakov joins a band of mercenaries led by the ruthless Petres the Chain. Anna and Dieter, losing the farmstead when Yakov does not return, join a roaming band of peasants they soon find are rebels led by the infamous der Flechtemann. After the intrigue of book one, Yakov and his sibling sister and brother find themselves together once again. Yakov after several years serving Petres the Chain, finds the imposition placed on the common people unjust. He, like us all, wants to return home as promised, and to live in peace on his farm. This has not happened, so into book two we go. At this point I consider myself a purveyor of joy, through a weaving of tales that elevate the human spirit. My words come from an artistic passion for crafting narratives that not only entertain but leave an indelible mark on the hearts of my readers. Revealing that the plight of the person of the past is not so different from that of the twenty-first century drives me forward. Get ready to be uplifted, inspired, and immersed in the magic of storytelling.

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there lived a little girl named Isabel. It was Isabel's dream to become a fairy to help others with her magical powers, so she applied to a school that specialized in teaching little girls how to find their inner powers and strength to do good in the world. It was Isabel's first day in class, and she met her fairy godmother professor named, Lily. Lily was a kind and nurturing person who always tried to encourage her students to do their very best. Today, Lily said, we are going to learn one of the most important concepts in becoming a fairy, and that is how to fly. I will sprinkle fairy dust over each one of you, and with this dust, if you truly believe in yourself, then you will be able to do anything, including fly. All of the other students closed their eyes as the fairy dust was gently being sprinkled in the air by Lily. I can fly said Martha, one of the students. I can fly said Melinda, another one of the students. After a short time period, all of the students in the class were flying all the way up in the sky. Lily was so proud of all of them. That is all of them except for Isabel.

A coughing old monk opened the heavy wooden door, creaking on mildewed hinges and entered a musty cloister, his quiet home.Pressed against his nose, his long sleeves of cotton gave him relief from an incessant drip, while the other hand levied a softly glowing candelabra to illuminate the dark. His eyes, concealed behind heavy wrinkles, attempted to peer through the dust-filled air-twinkling specks of dust floated in the space. The enclosed cavern, clearly bereft of any human activity.Smacking his ever-parched lips together, the man cleared his throat and pulled closer his tattered tawny robe, causing dust to fly about his leisurely gait."Abbot be cursed-damned, these younglings will ne'er learn." The strange old man quickly crossed his body and whispered an apology. "Aye, pardon my impertinence, O' Lord, for the words that doth escape my lips, yet behold, my heart doth burn with ire... aye, an ire ignited by thy initiates. We do provide sustenance and refuge unto them, that they