Book launch St Ettie's Music School 25 July 2024

 Do come along to our online book launch on 25 July at 7 pm BST .Book yourself a spot here: 

There will be a chance to hear an interview with author Martin Varny about the book and he will also read extracts from it.

We've defined it as a young adult book as it features young adults. However, it  has a much wider appeal.  There is a strong fantasy element as well. People who love music will be delighted by the resolution of this story. 

      

Thirteen children aged between nine and sixteen, each denied the love and care of a family, are brought together to live at Saint Etheldreda’s Foundation. Exploring the building, they stumble upon some old, damaged musical instruments in a storeroom. The children are amazed when they discover that they can hear the instruments talking.

Saint Etheldreda’s Foundation was previously Saint Etheldreda’s Music School, run by Elizabeth, a young, insecure woman who suffers from devastating mood swings. She had stood before the final curtain of despair more than once.

A chance encounter with the principal of the Foundation, Miss Stratton, results in the Elizabeth returning to Saint Etheldreda’s. Through the wonders of music, lives are changed and a loving family is born.

Saint Ettie’s Music School by Martin Varny is a charming coming of age story.

Book launch - Dramatic Episodes by Janet Howson

 

1 April 7 p.m. online

Interview

readings Q & A 

Free Event  

 

Sign up here  

Read more about the book on Amazon  

This is one of our CafeLit serials. Dramatic Episodes are linked episodes that have appeared on CafeLit. Learn more about CafeLit and CafeLit serials at this event.   

See you there?   

Years of Eclipse by L F Roth

Sanderson inserts the key. His aim is right, in spite of the dim light. He turns it, expecting the usual barely audible clicking sound as the catch is released, but there is none. Puzzled, he tries the handle. The door opens. Has someone broken in? Don’t panic, he orders himself, as his heart beats faster. One slow step at a time he advances into the hall, leaving the door gaping behind him. “Hello,” he calls. The silence builds. Advancing, he inspects the bedroom, but everything is as it should be: the bed unmade, his pyjamas spread-eagled across the solitary pillow. Getting rid of its companion had been a good move — his back had improved overnight. As his gaze returns to the hall, he hears the toilet flush and stops in his tracks. The bathroom door swings open. A hand appears, followed by the head and shoulders of what proves to be a squat figure dressed in an overall and wearing a heavy tool belt. If he is a burglar, he must be a professional.

“Sorry about that,” says the intruder. “Caught short.”

No professional, evidently, but curiously at home. Sanderson remains uneasy: the face wears no name. Is he an electrician come to fix the light in the stairs? Caught short, he may have rung the nearest bell and, after a brief delay, produced his master key. Sanderson probes him.

“You are …?”

“The plumber. Pete Dexter.”

There is a wrench among his tools.

“Someone phoned in about a dripping tap.”

“They did?” He’d meant to report it, but had he done so? Occasionally, he will write himself a note as a reminder, but notes tend to get lost or else become illegible. His neighbour may have sworn over the dripping late at night when sounds magnify. She wouldn’t rest till she got hold of somebody. “You’ll have to put in a new …” He breaks off. Having intended to test the man, he himself is on trial. He stares into the distance, but the word he is groping for isn’t there. “A whatchamacallit. Like a discus. With a hole.”

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