The Mermaid Who Makes The Sea


This story for children or those still a child at heart is ‘in review’ at Kindle Direct. I hope to be able to offer it free sometime this coming week.

An excerpt.
Sunday morning arrived with its normal cloudless sky as dad set out up the hill, more in hope than a belief of summoning Jacobi. For the children’s sake I hope you appear today old man, he said quietly to himself.

“I’m not that old. Not measured by the overall age of this world I’m not! I just look old because I’ve had a hard life. Who are you?”

There was a flimsy, tiny shroud of mist sitting on top of dad’s head, with a bearded face poking from beneath who had a finger pointed at him, asking the questions.

“Come on man, answer me! Cat got your tongue has it?”
“I’m Teddy and Tilly’s dad. You met them along with my wife Mary five years ago and changed the weather for us. I must thank you for all your help, it was truly a miracle. My name’s Peter by the way! We have another favour to ask, but first would you like a cup of tea and something to eat? We would be delighted if you could come to our house. The youngsters would be so happy to see you again.”
“Pleased to meet you, dad,” the old man stretched down his right hand which Peter took, shaking it with enthusiasm.
“Thank you for your most kind offer, but I must refuse. I’ve come all the way from Russia to get here flying over Scotland this morning where the birds fed me well. I had all manner of things on the journey brought to me including haggis. Never tried it before. It was, how should I say; different. A little chewy! As far as the cup of tea goes, then I have plenty of my own. By making it all day long, I think I have the hang of it now. Why don’t you go down to the farm, fetch mum, Teddy and Tilly, whilst I lower a ladder making it big enough to carry your weight, then we can discuss what it is you all want? The kettle is boiling inside Nebula as we speak. Five cups will be poured by the time you get back. Sugar?” he asked, as dad disappeared down the hill towards his cheering family nodding his head in reply.
“Three spoonfuls, please. No, wait, I’ll have an extra one to celebrate!”



About Danny Kemp

I was at work one sunny November day in 2006, stopped at a red traffic light when a van, driven incompetently, smashed into me. I was taken to St Thomas' Hospital and kept in for a while, but it was not only the physical injuries that I suffered from; it was also mental ones. I had lost confidence in myself let alone those around me. The experts said that I had post-traumatic stress disorder, which I thought only the military or emergency personnel suffered from. On good days, I attempted to go to work, sometimes I even made it through Blackwell Tunnel only to hear, or see, something that made me jump out of my skin and that's when the anxiety attacks would start. I told my wife that I was okay and going regularly, but I wasn't. I could not cope with life and thought about ending it. Somehow or other with the help of my wife and medical professionals, I managed to survive and ever so slowly rebuild my self-esteem. It took almost four years to fully recover, but it was during those dark depressive days that I began to write. My very first story, Look Both Ways, Then Look Behind, found a literary agent but not a publisher. He told me that I had a talent, raw, but nevertheless, it was there. His advice was to write another story and that I'm delighted to say, I did. The success of that debut novel, The Desolate Garden, was down to sheer hard work, luck, and of course, meeting a film producer.
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