Profile cover photo
Profile photo
MUD LANE
About
Posts

Know the difference 

Ever wondered how many words in a book? Well it depends on what type of book it is.
A short story has at lease 3,500. A novelette has at least 7,500. Next comes a Novella starting at 17,000 and once you reach 40,000 it qualifies as a full fledged Novel.
Add a comment...

Post has attachment
Our new look website at:
http://www.stephenrdrage.com
Photo
Add a comment...

Post has attachment
Mud Lane Book signing.
Come visit for a day of fun and games.
Photo
Add a comment...

Post has attachment
New cover proof arrived for my next book 'Hot Heads.' out later this year.
Photo
Add a comment...

Post has attachment
Mud Lane review.

Charming, Quirky, Delectable. The beguiling story exploits Mr. Drages ingenious wit and carries you through, chuckling a good part of the way

In paperback, Kindle, iPad, Nook, and all other e-book formats. Available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, etc
Add a comment...

Post has attachment
Wow - how much is that cool poster?
Photo
Add a comment...

Post has attachment
Mud Lane sequel – out later this year
Character sketch: Billy Tadcome.

Billy spent most of his time wandering round the village talking to anyone who would listen. He would then try to pursued them that all rich people were inherently evil, and that one day the working class would rise up to take their rightful place as rulers of the country. During this process everyone would get a bigger house and a newer car, and horrible things would be done to the queen. People called Billy a Commie, but Billy called himself a Worker. Everyone thought this self-imposed title was a little odd since nobody could ever remember Billy having a Job.
Photo
Add a comment...

Post has attachment
The heavy door swung open to a dimly lit room where grandmother sat stern and motionless in a high backed chair, chin held high and sharp gray eyes behind horn-rimmed spectacles. A brass handled walking stick, leaned against a round polished cherry wood reading table on which resided a large leather bound well worn bible with a tattered gold ribbon marking a passage that we would no doubt have to listen to during our visit.

On the wall were several photographs. One used to be of Dad and Mum on their wedding day, barely visible through the fog as they leaned against their borrowed car, but Mum had been carefully cropped out of this. The rest of the wall decoration consisted of pictures of Methodist ministers from a number of different parishes. A large portrait of Winston Churchill enjoyed a privileged spot over the mantelpiece, and on the opposite side Queen Elizabeth bestowed her royal blessing upon the dimly lit room.
After bowing to Grandmother and saluting Winston, Pete and I sat motionless, side by side like wax dummies on the couch. Only the sound of rain on the window and the occasional crackle of the fire broke the stony silence.

Eventually, Dad tried to start up a conversation. It began by talking about the weather, my father offering an opinion about the Pilchard's terrible timing for their Scottish Holiday. Then the mother and son pair once again fell silent. I knew Dad wanted to offer a highly opinionated comment on the offshore fishing strike but politics, or anything perceived as such was forbidden. For fear that we would all be cursed into hell, religion was also a taboo subject. It was difficult to find any common ground. Neither of the two had any interest in sports, Dad did not know any hymns, and grandmother had never ridden a motorbike.

Mud Lane
by Stephen R Drage
ISBN: 13 : 978-1466291805

* * *
Photo
Add a comment...

Post has attachment
Dad had a similar arrangement with Farmer Giles last summer, but it was not entirely successful and I was astounded to find that he had chosen to repeat a potentially hazardous experience.

“Never again!” I remember him shouting the day he returned from the woods, limping, soaking wet, with the burns on his legs visible through the singed holes in his trousers and angry red welts on his face arms and neck. As he sat down and consumed more tea and cigarettes than I had ever seen him do before, the disastrous story began to unfold. Apparently Dad had been swinging an axe to remove a particularly stubborn tree and in so doing dislodged a hornet’s nest. The hornets had viewed the destruction of their place of residence in a very unfavorable manner and attacked him with a determination and resolve seldom seen in woodland creatures. Luckily Dad had been able to seek refuge by jumping into the pungent choking smoke of the fire where he had been burning some brushwood. After proving his superiority over the winged aggressors by tolerating the flames and smoke longer than they could, he sprinted a short distance to a nearby lake and jumped in to extinguish his burning clothes. Despite his well planned strategy he received multiple hornet stings. He had also twisted his ankle as he exited the lake.

Mud Lane
by Stephen R Drage


http://www.facebook.com/read.mud.lane
http://twitter.com/#%21/stevedrage
http://gplus.to/mudlane
http://www.mudlane.net/
Photo
Add a comment...

Post has attachment
Mud Lane approved for Premium Status at Smashwords.
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/111814
Photo
Add a comment...
Wait while more posts are being loaded