I’m Sheila Jeffries, best-selling author of SOLOMON’S TALE and SOLOMON’S KITTEN, and a new book, THE BOY WITH NO BOOTS. I’m also an artist. I paint pictures of light and quirky ‘word art’ which expresses my love of language and colour. Being a mum is my greatest joy, and my two favourite words are ‘Hi Mum.’ My other passion is for planting trees and butterfly gardens. I want to make a difference, and I love to help people towards living peacefully on our gorgeous planet.
The beautiful landscape above is in Somerset where I grew up. I wanted to share its magic with you, and so I have used it as the setting for THE BOY WITH NO BOOTS, published on 29th Jan 2015 by Simon and Schuster UK.
BORN TO BE TROUBLE
Between the pages of this book you will share the spiritual journey of Tessa, a girl branded as trouble. You will share a magic era, the sixties, a time of spiritual awakening, flower children and hippies.
You will share the legacy of SILENT SPRING, a book by Rachel Carson predicting the great eco-disasters of the age, the deforestation, the disappearance of songbirds and wildflowers. Share the sadness. Celebrate the courage of those who fought to save the earth.
Tessa’s dad, Freddie, hero of THE BOY WITH NO BOOTS, taught Tessa the strength of patient love and the healing power of silence. But he also taught her to repress her gift of clairvoyance. In this book you will meet Starlinda, a clairvoyant medium and healer who teaches Tessa some precious skills. How to meditate, how to heal, how to rise above the emotional turmoil into the clear light of spirit.
I don’t want to give the plot away, but I think you will be thrilled when you find out how Tessa finally takes charge of her life. I hope it will inspire you.
If you’ve ever been at rock bottom, felt suicidal, worthless and lost, then this book is for you.
THE GIRL BY THE RIVERBook 2 of the saga tells the story of Tessa, the youngest daughter of Freddie and Kate. Tessa is a hyper-sensitive, gifted, but difficult child, growing up in the sixties in the era of flower children and hippies. It is set in Somerset and in St Ives, Cornwall.
THE BOY WITH NO BOOTS
‘But I, who am poor, have only my dreams.
Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.’
William Butler Yeats
‘He’s a liar! Stamp it out!’ This is the attitude to Freddie’s ability to see angels and spirit people. It gets him into endless trouble. Yet the gift burns on, through his youth, until he learns the bitter truth, in the words of the poet, Wordsworth, ‘Shades of the prison house begin to close upon the growing boy.’
What will happen to the gift through successive generations? Who will inherit it? And who will find the courage to use it?
Readers verdict on THE BOY WITH NO BOOTS, just a few of the amazon.co.uk five star reviews.
‘Stunning. So beautifully written with an exquisitely poetic narrative.’
‘One of those rare books that stays with you long after you’ve finished reading it.’
‘The most heart warming book I have read in a long time. I did not want it to end.’
‘...deep insight and understanding into the pain and fear many people live with. I heartily recommend this book to everyone who is tired of the violence and anger in so many books now.’
‘One of the best books I have read. I couldn’t put it down. Brilliant.’
‘The prose is simply superb. When the sheer beauty of words can evoke tears, that’s the sign of a gifted writer.’
‘Of all the books I have bought, this is the best.’
‘This novel is sweet and insightful and shows a good understanding of human emotions.’
‘I thoroughly enjoyed it and the insight into the afterlife was so interesting.’
‘Sheila Jeffries is an amazing storyteller.’
‘A truly unique book, one that I would highly recommend. I can’t wait for her next book.’
Dad with some of his stone carvings.
The man who inspired me to write THE BOY WITH NO BOOTS was my dad, a gentle giant who never raised his hand or his voice to me. Dad had a childhood in extreme poverty, and Freddie’s early life is based on the stories he told me. He kept his gift of prophecy strictly under wraps, but his other talent was art. One day a stone mason bet him a pound that he couldn’t carve an angel out of a stone gate post, and that was the beginning of Dad’s sculptures in stone and wood which are still all over Somerset in churches and gardens. He never had a studio, and he would have loved to go to art college as I did.