RNA 60TH ANNIVERSARY.-SCOTTISH CHAPTER ROMANTIC WEEKEND ON Face Book

The link below will take you to the Face Book page with details of the RNA Scottish Chapter's romantic weekend - 8th and 9th February when several Scottish romantic authors will be posting a BRIEF extract from one of their books. You are invited to send in comments and questions and we shall do our best to reply. Some authors are offering a free book in a prize draw for those of you taking part. The book I am offering is an e-book of MOORLAND MIST because it is the first in my most recent series. The book I shall be discussing is Secrets In The Heather - first in an earlier series of 3 books.  

 https://www.facebook.com/events/172509054027536/?event_time_id=172509060694202  

  

This is the short passage I am considering but I may change my mind by the weekend. It is the beginning of the book. Do you wonder what happens next? I know it does not seem at all romantic but I assure readers it is if they continue. 

  

Secrets in the Heather

Thirteen year old Andrew Pringle found himself further up the glen than he had ever been on his own but he was eager to catch a glimpse of the vixen and her cubs. He knew he ought to keep well away from the old quarry but he was sure he had heard a whimper from an animal in distress.  His blue eyes scanned the scrub and rough grass which had grown up in crevices since the quarry was last worked a dozen years ago.  The whimper came again. He thought it was below him and he stepped as near the edge as he dare. Loose stones and rocks immediately broke away, rolling and crashing over the jagged outcrops, some of them to land in the water which had gathered far below.  Andrew shuddered, but the animal whined again. He had to investigate.  He lay on his stomach and eased himself towards the edge of the quarry.  He gasped when he realised he was on the edge of an overhang which could break away any minute. He edged back. The whimper of the animal became more distinct, more urgent. It doesn't want me to leave, Andrew thought.

                He walked along the rim of the quarry until he thought the ground was firmer. Again he lay on his stomach and squirmed forward. Almost directly beneath him was a narrow ledge. A scrubby sapling seemed to have sprouted from the bare rock but it was enough to prevent the animal from falling to its death. It was not a fox. It was a collie dog. Andrew's heart began to thump. His eyes searched the surrounding area. There was no path to the ledge, but there were several boulders interspersed with stunted bushes. He judged the ledge was not much more than twelve feet below him. He refused to let his mind dwell on the nothingness beyond. He was not usually impulsive, but he knew the collie was pleading for help and his young heart couldn't resist. He eased himself over the edge.