Welcome to Clink Street’s Spring Reading Week. Today I have for you a promotional post for author Trevor Leck which includes his book info, an excerpt and author info.
Do check it out below:
The Cubit Quest
Twelve-year-old Charlie Watkins could have inherited his dad’s massive intellect.
He got his massive feet instead.
Perhaps if Charlie had that intellect he might have been able to figure out why so many men in suits were suddenly following him or where his dad hid the Cubit – a mythical object that men have sworn to protect and even more have died trying to possess – before his so-called accident.
If starting yet another new school wasn’t bad enough, Charlie meets Mr Leopold, a disfigured, mind-reading lunatic and discovers that he alone must find the Cubit if he is to save his dad. The Brotherhood, however, have other ideas. Led by the ruthless Draganovic, they will stop at nothing to get their hands on it. With the help of Mr Leopold and fellow new boy Elvis, Charlie sets out on The Cubit Quest.
Hunting for the Cubit, playing football, lessons with the dreaded Funeral Face and unsuccessfully avoiding school bully Grimshaw by day, Charlie finds his nights no less complicated. Stalked in his dreams, he’s soon immersed in a world of power struggles, battling dragons and duels to the death. With the Brotherhood hot on his heels and as the bullets begin to fly, there are no guarantees that Charlie, or anyone else, will make it to the end in one piece.
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THE CUBIT QUEST by TREVOR LECK – GRIMSHAW’S REVENGE
Spending most of his time falling over his massive feet, Charlie Watkins was usually the last one picked to play football. Nobody was more surprised than Charlie to see his shot hit the back of the net. Nobody wanted revenge for losing that game more than school bully, James Grimshaw.
Charlie froze mid-stream. Urine splashed on the floor. The hand on the back of his neck gripped tighter. He might have heard Grimshaw approach if it hadn’t been for Elvis, who was humming loudly from the cubicle. At that precise moment, Charlie wished he’d locked himself in a cubicle too.
After leaving the changing rooms, it took Grimshaw exactly two minutes to catch Charlie on his own. ‘Where’s your boyfriend when you need him?’ he said, keeping below the volume of the hum. The increase in pressure informed Charlie that it was a rhetorical question; he wasn’t expected to answer. Placing his mouth next to Charlie’s ear, he spat, ‘I don’t like being beaten, so I guess it’s time I did a little beating of my own. Four o’clock back on the football pitch, just you and me. If you tell your boyfriend I’ll make your life hell.’ Thrusting forward, he smacked Charlie’s head into the wall in front.
Elvis came out of the cubicle, took one look at Charlie and stopped humming. ‘What’ve you done to your head?’
‘I slipped,’ Charlie said without thinking. He didn’t know whether to tell Elvis about what had just happened or not. Nor did he fancy finding out what Grimshaw’s version of ‘hell’ might be.
Elvis chuckled. ‘Did you see Grimshaw’s face?’
‘On the football pitch, you fool. First you nearly take his head off and then you score a wonder goal, winning us the game.’
‘Don’t remind me,’ moaned Charlie.
‘That’s the best thing you could’ve done. If you let people like Grimshaw walk all over you, they’ll do it time and time again. Face up to them and they know you’re not a push over.’
Perhaps it was easier to stand up to someone like Grimshaw, Charlie reasoned, if you were, like Elvis, the size of a small building.
The rest of the afternoon ticked by incredibly slowly. Charlie’s constant clock-watching did nothing to speed matters. At the end of the day Elvis shot off to sports practice and Charlie made a half-hearted attempt to locate Edgar Wisdom. He wasn’t successful.
At four o’clock, a forlorn Charlie made his way to the football pitch. He was going to prove that he was no coward. Swallowing hard, he watched the immense figure of Grimshaw stride purposefully towards him. It suddenly dawned on him that bravery was one thing, whereas stupidity was another thing altogether. One thing was certain: he was about to get the beating of his life.
THE CUBIT QUEST by TREVOR LECK – A bit About the Author
Well, they say that everyone needs a hobby, but whilst sat in a tent listening to fighter jets scream overhead in a foreign land, I realised that I needed something else: a distraction. Writing was the perfect solution; even if writing about military life wasn’t. I was much more interested in writing about action-packed adventures that was bristling with the likes of bullying, crunching tackles and great goals on the football pitch, the afterlife, mythical creatures, fate, destiny and the obligatory arch-villain hellbent on world domination. Hence my foray into the world of young adult writing began. You could say that I was always going to be less Andy McNab and more J.K. Rowling.
They also say that you should write about the things you know, and even if I was writing about twelve-year-old boy Charlie Watkins, who suddenly found that he had more enemies than hot dinners, or super-powerful and deadly adversaries, or hobgoblins, I wanted people to believe it. Therefore, I needed a real place to set my semi-fantasy world. The town of North Shields, in the northern corner of England with a view of the River Tyne, the place where I grew up, provided the perfect backdrop for my first novel The Cubit Quest. After all, the place really does have it all – great buildings, great parks, great coastline, and even greater people. I hoped to do the place justice – I didn’t.
The reason for this was relatively simple: I wasn’t very good at it. Four years down the line and The Cubit Quest was still more a figment of my imagination than a reality. The ‘Ian Rankin style’ of writing, namely you have a rough idea of where you’re going and let’s see how it pans out, was hugely successful – for Ian Rankin that is! For me, the process was an unmitigated disaster – four years and no end product proving testament to that fact. But that didn’t matter. Other than my lovely wife, nobody knew I was writing and nobody was going to read it anyway – right?
The process also highlighted something that I, and anyone who meets me will figure out soon enough: I have the world’s worst memory. The places in The Cubit Quest were all real, Ralph Gardner High, Charlie’s house, Elvis’s house, Sonia’s house, all of it – ‘were’ being the operative word. The story is therefore a mismatch of eras, some present day, some straight from my very poor memory. The result is less Dan Brown, whereby every detail is correct at the time of writing and more John Grisham – never let the facts get in the way of a good story.
Having a second crack at it – it was my secret hobby after all – I knuckled down to some serious planning and eleven months later I had a first draft, a completed novel at last! Of course, perhaps I should have mentioned that it wasn’t The Cubit Quest, it was the follow up, which takes up immediately where The Cubit Quest leaves off. It was an odd situation, even I’ll admit that, to have the second part of what I envisaged to be a four-part series and no first part in existence.
All that remained, was to complete that first novel – and complete it I did! It was a behemoth by the time I’d finished, large enough to give a sci-fi epic a run for its money. Having visited the fabulous Warner Bros Studios to spend a very enjoyable day living and breathing the equally fabulous world of Harry Potter there is an opening address by J.K. Rowling in which she says that the Philosopher’s Stone was a product of good editing. I didn’t appreciate this fully – but I did by the time I’d whittled the book down to a more palatable word length – eight edits, ouch!
I was recently asked what short response I’d say to someone who had a passing interest in The Cubit Quest. My response: buy a ticket, strap in and enjoy the rollercoaster ride of an adventure!