Name: Toli Andrew Kram
POB: Northallerton Yorkshire
Family: Too many to mention, but two children and two grandsons
Education: Wolverhampton Uni & Arizona State Uni, BA (hons) & PCE
Welcome all… I started writing back in 1974 during a week off work because of illness, purely out of boredom. I started writing out a dream which recurred over several nights (no internet then). Ever since I’ve jotted down anything that would transpire into some kind of story, & I’ve enjoyed the results immensely.
My writing successes have been few but none the less very rewarding and satisfying to me. One day… I always say one day, so I keep working at it. Below is part of my collection of published works….
Sticky Flowers & Cosmic Butterflies - Bridgnorth Writers Group Magazine
The Doctor’s Note - Tigershark Publishing
A Witch’s Touch - Didcot Writers –The Most Normal Town
At the time of writing this I have a 97K word novel being considered called Days of Quiet Thunder (a black comedy…. fingers crossed. ) Also being readied are parts 2, 3 & 4 of A Witch’s Touch ─ that’s nearing completion.
Thanks for looking in, be safe and take care.
The opening of A Witch's Touch
The Welsh hills spat hard rain at their backs, driving them across the border to safety in the Welsh town of Wrexham. Leaves danced about, boughs bent and creaked over the track, brushing the heads of the weary travellers as the little cart rocked and rumbled over a stony path of a dark gorge.
‘Hurry, man, will you, or she’ll have the babe’s right here if you’re not careful.’
Another jolt from a protruding rock brought a cry from a young woman in birth pains.
‘Be careful up there, will you!’
The man led a stout, wet pit pony by the halter, meandering left and right for the smoothest course he could find. Up ahead a dim light shone a welcome sight of warmth inside. Then he said ‘I can see the town’s chimney smoke. It won’t be long now, just a little while longer.’
Soon they’d entered a room in a large house, with bare stone walls. Shadows stretched and danced, dark and misshapen, from a large flickering fire. Hanging from the ceiling was an oil lamp. Its dim worthless light struggled through smoky glass. A pretty maid with yellow hair took their wet coats, helped the mother into a bed and left the room saying ‘I’ll be back to trim the lamp soon. I’ll bring some hot drinks.’
Outside the rain eased almost to a stop, and the lightning now illuminated far distant hills as the thunder faded. The older woman attending the mum to be prepared hot water, clean linen and warm blankets. ‘Have you made this place secure?’ She turned and looked at the man, awaiting a reassuring answer.
‘Best I could,’ he replied. ‘But those stories are all bullshit and bollocks. Surely you don’t believe in all that stuff? Old wives tales, that’s all.’
Her disappointment showed on her face, but she repeated her question.
‘Yes, yes, woman, I’ve done what I can. All the guards are local; I know their families, and there are no new faces. It’s as safe as I can possibly make it.’
‘Just one touch from her and they will be doomed,’ she snapped...
To read all of A Witch's Touch click here