CAVE OF DREAMS: Sneak Peek at the 1st Paragraph from each of the First 7 Chapters

Cave of Dreams 

Below, is a sneak peek into my new fantasy novel, Cave of Dreams. I've included the first paragraph or two from each of the first seven chapters.


Chapter 1

The Prophet & The Scribe

AD 500

Looking down the valley from the opening of the cave, through white flakes floating haphazardly towards the ground, Adair could see Erin’s apparition moving ever so slowly towards him, inching his way up the slope in the sluggish and unsteady movement of the aged. Adair had tried to assist his master, attempting to give him support and help along the final leg of his journey, but Erin had simply gazed up into Adair’s eyes, shook his head, and in a shaky yet determined voice, spoke softly saying, “This is my journey. I…must do it alone…”

Chapter 2

The Druid’s Journey

AD 500

The next two days and nights Erin spent planning and getting ready for his own treacherous pilgrimage, and in that preparation he also had time to remember and think back to what had brought him to this place and time.

Ever since he was young, he had had vivid dreams that sometimes came true. He thought back to what he recalled was his first. He had been only eight at the time and had had an unusually real and frightening dream about his older brother, Elimar. During one night’s sleep, he had clearly seen his brother stumble and fall from a cliff near their home. The next day, he’d warned him of it and begged him to be careful. He knew that Elimar often went to the cliffs to gather sheep, but Elimar did not pay any attention to his younger brother. Even his parents had laughed a bit asking him if he thought himself some kind of Druid prophet.

Chapter 3

Rebirth

AD 500

Adair had set out from the Island of the Druid’s, believing that his trip back to be with Erin would be much quicker this time, especially since he had taken a small pack horse along to carry his burdens. However, finding someone with a large enough boat to transport both he and his animal across the water, along with the difficulties caused by the severe winter weather, had worked against him. It looked as if the trip would take him a good ten days instead of the seven that he’d hoped for. This was a great worry to him because Erin needed him there exactly at the end of the current moon cycle. The extra three days could cost Erin his life, so Adair made up his mind to travel an extra four or five hours each day, starting early in the morning and not stopping until darkness had set in. He had to get there on time.

Chapter 4

Black-Haired Beauties

AD 500

His sight, as he dreamed and stumbled through a world beyond knowing, was like a patterned collage of images, moments, and times from the past, present and future. Most in color and as real as the creases in his own hand, but some in black and white, flat and two-dimensional like white cave drawings swirling about on black walls. Each picture held meaning and foresight, but only if he could truly see and understand them; only if he could sort them, classify and arrange them in a way that would bring insight and coalesce into prophecy.

Chapter 5

Fergus’s Tale

October 7, 2022

Even on her eighteenth birthday, Bea had wanted to spend some time working at the Druid & Wiccan Spiritual Center. It was located on her family’s estate where their old mansion had once stood. Architecturally, the Center was a very unique building. It was made of wood, stone, and glass, with sections of green turf laid out artfully across its exterior. It resembled a large rounded hill. Its shape and design had been derived from a famous real-life rock mound that stood behind the Iona Abbey on the revered Isle of Iona.

Chapter 6

Bea’s Story

October 8, 2022

The smell of scones, coffee and tea lingered in the air, and the metallic sounds of glasses, dishes, pots and pans being cleaned and put away emanated from the kitchen. Bea couldn’t help but smile as she watched her mother and father take over from Marta and her grandmamma. They had ushered the two masters of the kitchen into the living area, insisting that it was time for them to take a break. Of course Marta complained, but in the end, the two of them acquiesced and sat together on the couch. They had munched while cooking and serving everyone else, but they hadn’t eaten properly. Now, they could finally relax and chat a bit, while savoring a buttered scone slathered with Marta’s homemade wild cherry jam and sipping casually on their favorite blend of morning tea.

Chapter 7

The Mirror Image

October 4, 2010

Having awakened from an unsettled sleep and a long night of hellish dreams, Brenna stood next to the open window in a milky-white cotton shift that her acolyte, Abbey Creag, had given her. The fabric was loose and soft as it ebbed and flowed across her body in the early-morning, autumn breeze. Sweat still glistened on her sallow brow, but her heart had slowed along with her breathing - the nightmarish visions fading with each passing moment.

Expanding My Writing

Cave of Dreams 

Cave of Dreams is my latest novel. It's my fifth and probably my most ambitious project to date. As I've written, studied, and read other authors, I've become more and more aware of the importance of details. Having a rich story that feels life-like and real to the reader beg the necessity and importance of them. There are scenes to be painted, character's to be enriched and enlivened, and the tremendous importance that details play in the plot as well. There are times, though, when you need to watch out for the pitfalls that one can encounter with details from either slathering the page with too many of them or trying to place them into a story at the wrong moment.

In Cave of Dreams, the number of characters has increased over my other novels as have the fine details that tick the story along - moment to moment. And, I'm painting my characters with richer and finer tones and qualities. All of this detail also teaches me patience and sometimes creates a need for more research to make sure that the work feels authentic and has some basis in fact, even if it is a fantasy, as this book is.

I've been working on Cave of Dreams since the beginning of June, and I'm only into the sixth chapter. So far, though, my chapters are longer, and I'm building the world of this story a lot more slowly and carefully than ever before. In those six chapters, I've almost written 25,000 words, and chapter six isn't even complete yet. I'm not a word counter, normally, but it is an indicator of what I know is happening in my writing.

I mentioned patience, and I know that I'm gaining that as an author. I'm really enjoying the slower pace. I've always loved writing descriptions anyway, and taking more time to lay out the scenes has become very enjoyable for me.

I also mentioned the possible pitfalls of too much detail. I'm watching for that and using places where I believe other authors have stepped over that cliff as my measuring tape. Sometimes simpler is better, so I'm doing my best to balance conciseness with rich texture. "Balance in all things..." has always been one of my mottos, and I think it definitely applies to writing as well.

I'm enjoying and learning and working hard on Cave of Dreams. The book should be done in five to six months. I'll be excited as always when I finish and look back on its development and the wonder of creating something from my mind. It's a ride that I relish and revel in!


Learn More About My Other Books
To learn more about my other books, click on the BOB'S BOOKS link at the top of this blog.

SPECIAL PREVIEW: First Two Pages Of My New Fantasy Novel

Cave of Dreams won't be published for several months, but I thought I'd share the first two pages with you.

Chapter 1

The Prophet & The Scribe

“All of us are fraught with the pangs and struggles of our duality – that ever present tug and pull of the two disparate and powerful forces that exist within us. And so it will be for the two black-haired beauties of my dreams. One had eyes blazing like blue sapphires that were filled with the flaming light of life, and the other possessed deep black orbs that virtually oozed of desperation and rage. Separate beings, yes, but both inescapably comprised of elements and aspects of the other.”

The Druid Priest, Erin

AD 500

Looking down the valley from the opening of the cave, through white flakes floating haphazardly towards the ground, Adair could see Erin’s apparition moving ever so slowly towards him, inching his way up the slope in the sluggish and unsteady movement of the aged. Adair had tried to assist his master, attempting to give him support and help along the final leg of his journey, but Erin had simply gazed up into Adair’s eyes, shook his head, and in a shaky yet determined voice, spoke softly saying, “This is my journey. I…must do it alone…”

Reaching the cave ahead of his master, Adair walked into the cavern, unloaded his burdens from the large satchel on his back and from the smaller one tied by the sash to his waist. He then completed the preparations for his master’s arrival. He laid out the candles, lit the peat fire inside the ring of stones that some previous inhabitant of the cave had built, and organized the small amounts of food, herbs, and water that remained from their journey, placing them near the edge of the steaming caldron at the back of the cave.

Finishing his tasks, he again stood at the entrance and glared into the storm, searching for the whereabouts of his master. Through the clouds of accumulating snow, it took a moment to find him, but when he finally did, it seemed that Erin had made very little progress. He could tell that the old man was beyond tiredness now, almost ready to collapse, slumping forward on his staff in what they both knew would be his final and ultimate journey. His tattered clothes were heavy and stuck to his frame, and his brown, patched woolen robe, his only real source of warmth, drooped and slid along the ground like an anchor, hampering his every step on the ancient path that traversed the Lost Valley floor. And towering above him, one on each side, were the twin peaks of Aonach Dubh and Gearr Aonach, making him seem even smaller and more feeble in the shadowy mists and mounting blizzard of this early winter storm.

Adair could hardly stand to watch any longer. He had served his old friend for eight years now, and he owed him his life. When he was ten, Adair’s parents had been killed in a fire that had consumed their thatched home. Erin had seen the fire from the Druid settlement nearby and brought help as quickly as he could, but it had been too late for Adair’s parents. Hearing someone nearby, Erin had followed the sound and found Adair sitting on the ground, slumped over and crying. He had taken pity on the young boy and immediately took him on as his servant, and once he saw how bright he was, he also trained him to be his scribe. They had been together ever since and were very close. Adair would have done anything for Erin and, even now, almost succumbed to the desire to rush down and give him aid, but he stood fast, obeying his wishes, and simply looked on. He would not interfere, at least not yet.

The old Druid priest and he had undertaken this journey because he had decided that this was his time to die and be reborn in order to truly become the prophet that his dreams had foretold. As a Druid, Erin knew that every leader of standing had undertaken a similar path to enlightenment, and it was his destiny to come to this most sacred of places, the Uaimh an Aisling or Cave of Dreams. It must happen here, and it must happen now.

His sandaled feet, almost completely numb from the icy snow, continued to slide along the stones, scuffing away the white flakes from each and exposing the dark slick rocks beneath. He almost fell several times, but somehow maintained his balance. The solid oak staff that he’d had all of his life was held tightly in his white-knuckled hand, and he leaned on it now more fervently than ever, feeling the long and arduous climb in every muscle and bone in his body. It seemed as if it had been months now since they had left their home on Innis-nam Druidbneach - the Island of the Druids - and because of Erin’s age, the journey had been extremely difficult, but now only a few steps remained, and he would finally be home.

Pausing, he turned his head and glanced over his shoulder down towards the valley floor where only this morning he and Adair had stood by a lonely gnarled pine near a fork in the stream. At that moment, the climb had not looked nearly as difficult or foreboding, and both of them had felt sure that they would be able to reach the cave before the oncoming storm set in. However, it hadn’t worked out as they’d hoped, and Erin was still laboring upwards while the layers of white sugary crystals collected in deeper and deeper pools along his path.

Wet and cold dripped from the creases in his pale skin; his ragged clothes doing little to keep the bitter temperature at bay. Every few steps he halted and stared ahead in the desperate hope that he might almost be there.

He could see Adair now, standing at the entrance to the cave, but at this point Erin was shaking almost uncontrollably and could feel the detrimental effects of the height of the climb, his weariness, and the lack of food and water. All of which were sapping whatever strength he had left. He ached and yearned to stop and lie down, but something kept pushing him forward as he placed one foot in front of the other – one step, then another, and another – then a pause – another step, then another, and another…

With less than a stone’s throw between Erin and himself, Adair had had enough. He sprang from the lip of the cave and ran down to meet his old friend. Sliding to a stop, he reached out and noticed how pale and weak Erin had become. Neither of them hesitated any longer as Erin raised a shaky hand and grabbed onto Adair’s shoulder. Together they tread the last few steps, climbed up to the entrance, and walked into the mouth of the Cave of Dreams.

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New Fantasy Novel CAVE OF DREAMS: Chapter 4 Quote

CAVE OF DREAMS

Below, I've included a quote from the first paragraph of chapter 4 of my new fantasy novel, CAVE OF DREAMS. I've been working on it now for about a month. It's going slowly, but I'm having a great time writing it, and I wanted to share this with you.

“His sight, as he dreamed and stumbled through a world beyond knowing, was like a patterned collage of images, moments, and times from the past, present and future. Most in color and as real as the creases in his own hand, but some in black and white, flat and two-dimensional like white cave drawings swirling about on black walls. Each picture held meaning and foresight, but only if he could truly see and understand them; only if he could sort them, classify and arrange them in a way that would bring insight and coalesce into prophecy.”