#BlogTour #RachelsRandomResources @rararesources / #GuestPost : The Five Things – Beth Merwood @lizcity77

– ‘The Magic of Wor(l)ds’ blog is a hobby, reviews and other bookish stuff on this site are done for free. –

Today I’m on the ‘The Five Things’ blogtour, organized by Rachel’s Random Resources.
To promote this book I have a guest post, but before I let you read it first some ‘basic’ information.

About the Author :

Beth Merwood is from the south of England. The Five Things is her debut novel.

Social Media Links:
Website
Instagram
Twitter
Facebook

Synopsis :

perf5.000x8.000.inddFor nine-year-old Wendy, the summer of 1969 will never be forgotten.
Local kids have always told stories about the eerie wood on the outskirts of the village, and Wendy knows for sure that some of them are true. Now the school holidays have started and she’s going to the wood again with Anna and Sam, but they soon become convinced that someone is trying to frighten them off.
When a terrible event rocks the coastal community, the young friends can’t help thinking there must be a connection between the incident, the tales they’ve heard, and the strange happenings they’ve begun to witness. As glimpses of a darker world threaten their carefree existence, they feel compelled to search out the underlying truth.

Purchase Links:
Amazon UK
Amazon US 

Guest Post :

A trip to the garden centre

How do I spend my time when not writing, or editing, or reading? Well, often I spend it weeding or carrying out some other task amongst the flower beds.
A trip to the garden centre is something to look forward to as well, and I think a lot of us will agree, makes for a reviving and inspiring interlude. It’s important to make sure to allow enough time for a visit: it’s a place where it’s easy to get carried away, to become absorbed by the items on sale and all the possibilities that they conjure.
To start with, there’s a lot of looking to be done. It’s always good to wander through the tree section. For me, that’s a place to dream of having a fruit orchard. I imagine the spring blossom on a cool sunny morning, a few pigs or sheep grazing under the branches.
It seems that gardeners love their ornaments and furnishings, and next I find myself surrounded by grand stone seats, wooden outhouses and glass houses, too large for my space but still enjoyable to see and admire.
In another section lie the accoutrements that might encourage other beings to join us in our outdoor hideaways. Water bowls and bird tables. There are bee houses, insect towers and butterfly hotels on offer. A variety of food for all sorts of birds and beasts can be bought, and plenty of seeds are available that, if grown, could attract and make welcome more of the true owners and inhabitants of our little pieces of the outside world.
Even coming away with a small item, perhaps a new garden tool, a pot, or a piece of garden furniture fills us humans with a positive feeling. It will be pleasurable to go out into the garden later with the perfect implement for the job at the ready. The sheds confirm, that over the years, this has been a common finding, at least for members of my own family. The little buildings are stuffed with implements old and new, practical and experimental. And much as I like a new garden tool, I also love an aged one, with woodworm in the handle, the metal dull and coarse compared to the arrogant shiny stainless steel of the modern version. Some of the older implements remain unfathomable to me; I can’t work out their purpose at all. Others are so simple and throw up visions of a past heyday, in summer fields and expansive plots. I’ve kept a simple tool which involves two wooden spikes joined by robust garden string. The twine is wound round one of the wooden pieces: you push the empty reel into the ground and unwind until, at the distance you require, you push in the other spike. It’s unsophisticated, but perfect for marking a row to plant vegetables or for digging the line of a new flower bed.
A morning cup of coffee on a folding chair on the lawn; reading a book in the shade of a tree; a cool drink with a friend on a terrace or patio on a mild evening, the light fading.
So, car laden with new pots and compost, bird seed, an irresistible watering can, even some flowers — young bedding plants — I’m going home to while away a few hours on a small but special patch of land.

The Magic of Wor(l)ds

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