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Monday, March 23, 2015

The Stone of Kings

Just open the book…


Twelve year old Ardan is hopelessly distracted because he wants to meet a real faerie. But when he gets his hands on a mysterious red book loaded with faerie spells and accidentally sends himself three hundred years into Ireland’s future, he soon learns that there are more important things on which to focus his attention. Throw in some immortal druids, fun storytelling, a touch of forbidden romance, along with the music and antics of the legendary Irish harper, Turlough O’Carolan, and you’ll become swept up in a very real Irish mythological adventure.


“I think the young boy has a gun.”

Hannah heard Stephen’s voice cry out to the guards as she neared her car. While she smashed the button on her keyless entry over and over, she wheeled Thomas’s chair around the oak tree and flung open the passenger side door. Thomas pulled himself in the car remarkably fast for someone with a wounded foot, and Ardan clambered in on his lap. Hannah heard Thomas cry out in apparent pain as she closed the door and guessed Ardan must have stepped on Thomas’s injured foot.

She ran around to the other side and glanced up to see the guards were feet from her car. They would be able to stop her from shutting her door. But she got in anyway, and was surprised she still had time to turn on the engine. The guards should at least be at her window by now. But when she took a quick look up, they were not there at all. She put the car in reverse and ignored Ardan who cried out, “We are going backward,” in Irish. She saw guards on the ground under the oak tree. One grasped an ankle, the other clutched a knee. She also noticed, just before peeling away, the roots of the oak tree had come up high out of the ground, and she was certain the tree’s roots had been under the ground the last time she saw it. The boys apparently noticed it too. They gaped as she sped away.

“Bless my soul,” Thomas breathed. “’Twas as if the tree was helping us.”

Hannah let out a burst of nervous laughter. She was jittery because of the excess adrenaline coursing through her body, and she was incredulous at the scene her eyes had just shown her. Her throat became tight and caused her next words to come out like a squeak. “It isn’t possible.”

“But ‘tis possible. Ardan and I were born over three hundred years ago,” Thomas stated.

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Author Bio:

Shea McIntosh Ford is also the author of Harp Lessons and lives in Florida with her loving husband of eleven years and two boys, ages four and six. Growing up, she lived under the delusion that prejudice and bigotry were no longer being taught to children. Oh, how much she has learned. After feeling powerless as a first year teacher when one student adamantly said that Americans should send ALL Mexican’s back to Mexico, Shea has found her voice through her writing. While she knows that bigotry probably won’t be eradicated altogether, at least she’s doing her part to help decrease it.

Social Media Links:
Twitter: @SheaFord1

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