This is the second book in the Goneunderland adventure series
About the Book
Something is on the loose in Steaming Forest. It screeches, it scares and it kills. Where the mud boils, where the steam rises, where the giant Manglewarp Tree grows, no one is brave enough to enter the forest. In the nearby village of Pebbleknock, Sergeant Trod Elsewhere is also faced with an outbreak of thievery, mysterious magical gatherings and bothersome anarchists. Only one person realises these events might be linked, and unless he can work the connection out, things are about to take a turn for the worse.
About the Author
- D. Birkbeck grew up in rural New Zealand, worked for several newspapers before settling in London in 1996. He has published three books in the Tales of Field Mouse series whilst “The Beast of Steaming Forest” is the second book in the Goneunderland series, the first book being “The Knappler’s Burden”. He has also had success in writing short plays.
“They had just stepped over a small stream no bigger than a healthy trickle when Moiles grabbed Moorlick’s shirt. Moorlick followed Moile’s pointing finger. Hanging from a tree he saw the shape of a tilly. Blood dripped from its throat.
“In the name of Tulloc…”
The oath was barely out of Moorlick’s mouth when a piercing scream filled the vaporous air. Something flashed through the forest. Both men could have sworn it swung by on a vine.
“Did you see that?” said Moiles.
“I saw something. But I don’t know what I saw,” came the answer.
They heard a rustle in the trees. Then a crash. After a few seconds something in front of them moved. They looked closely into the scrub. Suddenly, a branch moved and a red, screeching face appeared. Moorlick stepped back treading on Moiles’ foot. Both men fell to the ground. Above them, the face appeared. A mouth opened showing a line of yellow teeth. The man, if it were a man for he looked no bigger than a small child, let forth a long, harsh gasp as if he was trying to breathe fire. Naked from the waist up, his torso was smeared in blood. A thick mob of blonde hair was matted through with mud. Thin, sinewy arms grasped a vine and it clambered quickly up into the steam. In vain the farmers looked up. A rustle here and a rustle there tightened their nerves. Moorlick jumped as something tugged his shirt. It was Moiles.
“I’m getting out of here,” said Moiles.
Moorlick turned to see Moiles stumbling over the ground. “Wait for me! Wait for me.”
It is also available from Amazon US.