Bookshops - my special place. (Plus an excerpt from Book 4 of The Camelot Inheritance series.)

Mr B's Reading Emporium:

One of the most magical places in Bath, UK.

If you love books as much as I do, then a bookshop as wonderful as Mr B's is a magical place.

And the best area is, of course, the children's books space.

Recently the shop has been extended (they bought the shop next door) and within a remarkably short time, this mind-extending space was created.

When last there I spent a very happy time perusing the shelves - and while inspecting a large variety of fantasy books for 'tweens' I found this book by Hilary Mckay.

'The Time of Green Magic', is a gorgeous, believable story. Although this is essentially a children's book, I can assure you that most adults will enjoy it as well.

But back to the shop. Mr B's is tucked away in little lane behind one of Bath's main shopping streets, at - 14-15, John St, Bath BA1 2JL

There are rooms and rooms full of books in every category, but every time I'm drawn back to the children's/tweens/teens space. 

However there are some aspects of Mr B's which pander for all bibliophiles, whatever your taste, it's the perfect gift. A Mr B's Reading Spa. A knowledgeable member of the team will spend some time with you, discussing your favourite authors and genres and then come back laden with a stack of books for you to leaf through. It's a great way to discover new authors and a perfect way to spend an hour or two. Click here to find out more so that you too can receive or give the most delightful of presents.

In a later post, I will feature another indie book shop. Possibly the one in my little town which features in The Camelot Inheritance series.

In the meantime, here's an excerpt from Book 4 of the Camelot Inheritance series. In my next post I'll be revealing the cover and the title. 

Nick and Gawain are on a school trip in Cornwall while Arthur and Tamar are miles away in London. In this excerpt we're with Nick and Gawain in a Cornish museum with their teacher and fellow students.

They meandered after their group along a dimly lit passage. It began on the level but then banked steeply, winding to the right. At the front their teacher was expounding on various exhibits connected with Cornwall’s history, but Nick and Gawain remained safely at the rear.

The floor was cobbled. Hundreds of years before it had been used to transport goods to ships by hand cart. The passages were old, very old. Gawain shivered. He could feel the memories jostling.

Suddenly Nick gripped Gawain’s arm.

‘Look,’ he hissed.

‘What?’ Gawain was miles away. Things that would bypass normal people were hammering on his senses; shouts of long-dead labourers echoed in his head.

‘The wheel on the wall at the back of the glass case; it’s spinning.’

A wooden ship’s wheel was nailed to the wall behind a model of the Titanic, somehow it was rotating. To the right of the wheel, the ship’s clock ticked while a small chandelier suspended from the ceiling above the display shivered.

‘That’s weird,’ Gawain observed quietly.

He watched the wheel slow and stop as the clock’s hands stilled. Objects were waking here too.

Nick checked the passage in front and behind them. ‘How could that happen?’

Gawain rubbed his chin. ‘I don’t know, maybe …’

‘Go on. Maybe what?’

He hesitated. ‘Maybe she’s waking the memories like she did before.’

A shout echoed along the passage. ‘Nick, Gawain, hurry up!’

‘The Ice Lady?’

Gawain nodded. ‘She woke the memories at Christmas didn’t she?’ He thought of the skeletons crawling from the winter sea. ‘Maybe she can use memories buried in objects as well.’

Miss Angell’s face appeared around the bend in the passage. ‘You two are holding us up, come on!’

‘Sorry,’ Gawain mumbled, casting a quick look at the now-motionless wheel. ‘We’re coming.’

‘Remember the barrel organ at Trezion’s fair?’ Nick said sotto voce as they followed their teacher. ‘Arthur thought that had something to do with collecting people’s memories, didn’t he?’

Gawain nodded.

‘And there was the train at Christmas. We were in the twenty-first century one minute and the next we were on a steam train, a hundred years from now.’ A thought struck Nick slap bang between the eyes. ‘It must be about memories – or time.’

He looked around. ‘And here we are, stuck in a museum in Cornwall, while Tamar and Arthur are miles away in London.’

‘Divide and conquer.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, if you want to weaken the opposition, try to get them arguing among themselves, that way they’re easier to defeat. We may not be arguing, but we’re separated.’

‘Boy, you really know how to cheer a person up!’

‘Sorry,’ Gawain said, mentally kicking himself. He should have kept that thought under wraps.

They rounded the corner but their group had already moved on.

The light here was a little brighter, and the displays were different with mannequins set in ‘rooms’ like stage sets. One was dressed as a pirate captain, complete with a black, large-brimmed hat and a leather waistcoat and breeches.

Gawain stopped. He didn’t take in any of the props: the dagger, short sword or plastic ‘treasure’. It was the flag that had caught his attention. A white skull over crossbones, set against a black background. He read the explanation.

‘Pirate ships had more than one flag.

A red background stood for bloodshed. Black stood for death.

The pirate captain wouldn’t give orders for either to be hoisted until they were close enough to their chosen prey for it to be too late for them to escape.

The only choice for their target would have been surrender or almost certain death.’

He recalled his imprisonment on the Ice Lady’s ship. If it hadn’t been for Tamar, he would have died. But his thoughts came to a crashing halt as long, bony fingers clutched his sleeve – and they didn’t belong to Nick.