Nine Months. That’s how long it took me to plan, research and write my latest novel, Servant of Memory. Right now, it’s in the editing stage and almost ready to go to print! #excitedmuch #givingbirth ????

“Bound by the shackles of time, Elijah Levy is in his 14th reincarnation, and on the brink of a sensational discovery that will give him the power to share his accumulated memories with the rest of the world.

But there is one memory, in particular, that attracts the attention of an evil organisation who threatens to embroil him in its iniquitous affairs. It concerns the Primordial Stone, a mythical talisman, infused with the power that was used to ignite the universe into being.

Elijah finds himself in the centre of a mystery far larger than he could ever have imagined, when he must fight to discover his true purpose and save the life of Katy Saunders, the beautiful girl of his dreams.”

Another year around the sun ????

I woke up this morning, like any other morning, to the rising sun, but this time, it was the anniversary of my birth – the day I was born.

I’ve always been honoured to have been born on this day and in this month. November symbolises the start of summer (where I live in the Southern Hemisphere of course ????), the season where everyone begins to appreciate the sun and the great outdoors, in a beautiful place like Cape Town with its iconic mountain ranges and pristine, white beaches. Excitement builds as we approach the end of another year and look forward to new beginnings.

Today marks the 18th of the month, the most auspicious day there is. This is because the letters Chet (8th letter) and Yud (10th letter) of the Hebrew alphabet, add up to 18 which spell the word Chai, which means ‘life’ and represents being alive in Judaism, the single most significant thing there is to be! In Judaism, it is customary to give and receive gifts in multiples of 18, which are symbolic of a good deed or mitzvah and known as ‘giving chai’.

This particular year ahead is even more significant than ever before in my life because we’re going into the year 2018. May it be filled with blessings for a good and healthy life for all of us! Amen ????????

In closing this brief soliloquy, I’d just like to mention that I read Wired Magazine’s latest newsletter this morning and it happens to be filled with a host of incredible stories that a decade or so ago would have made incredible science fiction stories. The future is now and it needs to be embraced. What a time to be alive!!!

  • Elon Musk has just launched the Tesla electric truck with autopilot
  • Boston Dynamics’ Atlas robot has now been designed to do backflips
  • Omar Akbari is reengineering mosquitoes to self-destruct
  • A robot will land on the moon in March 2018 and beam hi-def images back to Earth

Peace out ✌️

Blurb blurb blurb

Contrary to what most people believe, the blurb at the back of a book is not simply a summary of the story, it is an advert for the book itself. It needs to hook the reader into wanting to know more after every single sentence. To get this just right is probably one of the most challenging tasks for any author because it really needs the opinions of people not directly engaged in the story.

This is why I have decided to test it in public before finalising it on my novel. I have already spent many hours drafting several versions of the blurb for Servant of Memory and this one is probably not my last. Please be so kind as to have a look and let me know if it entices you or misses the mark in any way no matter how small.

Muchas gracias ????????

“Bound by the shackles of time, Elijah Levy is in his 14th reincarnation, and on the brink of a sensational discovery that will give him the power to share his accumulated memories with the rest of the world.

But there is one memory, in particular, that attracts the attention of an evil organisation who threatens to embroil him in its iniquitous affairs. It concerns the Primordial Stone, a mythical talisman, infused with the power that was used to ignite the universe into being.

Elijah finds himself in the centre of a mystery far larger than he could ever have imagined, when he must fight to discover his true purpose and save the life of Katy Saunders, the beautiful girl of his dreams.”

Arctic Nightmare by Richard Gradner

The polar bear looked up from the bloody seal carcass, as the thundering sounds of an iceberg cleaving a large section off the ice sheet, rumbled across the tundra like a herd of stampeding bison. Shards of ice, the size of houses, crashed into the Arctic, pounding the near-freezing waters with explosive force, sending wave after powerful wave smashing back against the glacier wall like angry Poseidon pent-up in a watery cage.

A dark smear in the ice sheet was revealed, an ugly stain in the pristine, white landscape. It shifted and then bulged, threatening to break through its icy prison. Cracks began to appear, spreading through the ice like a virus; the sound of splintering glass on a thousand windowpanes, ricocheting across the barren wilderness. The cracks began to tear apart from the powerful pressure exerted by the entity beneath the frozen landscape, followed by an explosion of ice and snow that sprayed up high into the air.

Out climbed a huge dinosaur-like creature. It had a long neck with a pair of gills, an elongated body with a pair of hind legs, and a long, jagged tail. It opened its mouth to reveal three sets of razor-sharp fangs and out came an ear-splitting shriek. The creature slid across the ice on its belly, dropping into the churning ocean, disappearing into the swirling depths in search of prey to feed its emaciated body.

Sixty Three A

Beady, black, unblinking orbs

Reflecting shades of green and brown

Grip softly swaying limbs up high

Soprano cries, staccato lies;

Grey obscuring blue begins

Silent stifling wraiths above

Darker now as colours fade

Falling drops the ground accepts;

Swaying left then to the right

Revealing method in design

Breath gives life to rooted trunks

Rustling shapes respond in kind;

Tearing through the moist divide

Golden beams smelt silent shadows

Shining down on basking beasts

Sharing warmth and love divine

By: Richard Gradner

Gold! – A short story by Richard Gradner

“Senór, look.” Pablo pointed at an Amazonian pyramid that came into view.

Julio raised his hand to shield his eyes from the shafts of sunlight that cut through the canopy of trees. The familiar sound of howler monkeys echoed in the distance and a flock of colourful macaws swooped overhead as Julio gradually made his way towards the ancient relic. Pablo followed, albeit reluctantly, hopping nimbly over thick roots that twisted through the earth like the mangled tentacles of a slumbering leviathan.

Julio stopped at the foot of the ochre-coloured structure and gazed up towards its summit. He opened the palm of his right hand.”Give me the talisman” he instructed.

Pablo dropped his backpack to the ground and shoved his hand into a side pocket. “Here” He produced a brown stone disc, the size of a saucer, placing it carefully into Julio’s outstretched hand.

“Look up there” Pablo pointed at the top of the pyramid.”The air, it’s shimmering, like ripples in a stream.”

Julio ascended the steps with Pablo in tow. They reached the top of the pyramid and faced the wall of vibrating matter. It pulsed and shifted with a life of its own.

“Pablo” said Julio, pointing at a gaping hole at the foot of the shimmering wall. Julio bent down to place the stone talisman into the hole. It fit perfectly. The disc glowed softly and the wall dissolved to reveal a sight that took Julio’s breath away. “Eldorado,” he whispered. “The lost city of gold.”



In my upcoming novel, Servant of Memory, I’m currently writing about the famous polymath, astronomer, physicist, philosopher and mathematician, Galileo Galilei, who gives a lecture in Florence about how to calculate the dimensions of hell in Dante’s 14th century epic poem Divine Comedy.

The famous renaissance artist, Sandro Botticelli, painted a visual interpretation of Dante’s Inferno below.

I’m really enjoying this project that combines non-fictional events in history with a fictional character who is reincarnated through multiple lives over the course of over 2,000 years.

Inside Story

I’m about 20% into writing my next novel, so I thought that it was time to share some of my enlightening experience, without giving too much away of course!

Although this is my third novel, it’s very different from the first two. In fact, all three novels are very different from each other. My first novel was an incredible learning experience. While I was writing, I was learning about the craft, how to write, edit and publish both online and in printed format. My first novel is a magical tale about Lemuria, a long lost continent, and how its descendants plan to take over the world.

My second novel, Unicorn, is set in Harappa, in the Indus River Valley, over 5,000 years ago. Harappa is an ancient city in what is today, Turkey. Ancient carvings, consisting of a variety of animals such as tigers, elephants and buck were found on stone seals that are believed to have been used for trading purposes. There was one stone seal, however, of a four-legged creature with one horn, known as the unicorn seal…

My latest novel is a rich, educational experience. It’s called Servant of Memory and it’s about an individual that gets reincarnated into multiple lives, each one set during an important time in human history. As a result of this storyline, I have learnt many fascinating, historical facts

Marco Polo embarked on a three-year journey from Italy to Cathay (present day China) where he spent many years in the service of Kublai Khan, the great Mongolian emperor. A few hundred years later, inspired by Polo’s travels, Christopher Columbus, decided to sail west, thinking he could reach Cathay and India much quicker from the other side. Naturally, he misjudged the distance and landed in the Bahamas, believing he was in India, which is why this area is called the West Indies. He called the natives Indians as a result, a name that has stuck to the present day and is the same name given to the American Indians and all other natives of South America

These and many more historical gems have been written into my story that culminates in an exciting twist in the tale. Watch this space for more…


The g-force was akin to a rollercoaster as the metal hulk lifted up into the sky, pulling my head back and into the headrest for support. The roar of the powerful jet engines, burning enough fuel to empty a small swimming pool, blasted through the cabin, numbing my senses and reverberating the very air around me like a mini tsunami. 

I opened my Dean Koontz novel, Your heart belongs to me, and was immediately engrossed in the epic thriller about a man who was told that he had a year left to live if he didn’t find a replacement heart in time. 

We approached Cape Town. The pilot announced that we were in a queue to land and then before I knew it, he was taking us on a scenic trip past the Mother City, along the coastline, all the way to Hout Bay! I’ve flown many times but this was the first time that I’d been privy to this beautiful route. I pulled out my phone and began snapping photos. It was too magnificent to miss. 

The pilot banked to the right to give the passengers on the other side the same incredible view and announced, ” those of you on the right, what a view!”

We flew back towards the airport and touched down safely. The pilot announced, “I am honoured to have flown with my father aboard this flight. He used to work for this airline (BA) and has clocked over 22,000 air miles.” The passengers applauded.

I was one of the last to disembark. A red carpet lay across the tarmack together with a group of crew members awaiting the arrival of the distinguished pilot. It was only then that I realised the true nature of the fly-by…



Luna ran ahead of me on the path, excited to be out on the mountain. I marched briskly behind her, the coarse, tan-coloured sand crunching loudly under my trainers with every step, immediately announcing my presence to anyone within a thirty meter radius.

I looked about, quickly taking in the scenery as I walked. To the left of me was the mountain, stretching up and into the blue yonder. To the right, was a copse of trees and beyond that, the deep, expansive ocean, stretching out to meet the horizon in the distance. The air was unusually warm for this early in the morning, and, despite the fact that I was still walking in the shade, a fine film of perspiration had broken out on my forehead. 

I briefly closed my eyes, took in a deep breath and sighed it out once more, grateful for being alive. 

Luna turned to gaze back at me as I topped the next rise. She tilted her head to the left as if to say, Come on, come on! What’s taking you so long?  Move it already!

I trudged on methodically, passing the rear of a slew of mansions, positioned to take advantage of the magnificent view. A young couple popped into view. He was behind her – a young mother with a baby secured safely against her chest in a sling. She instinctively cradled his head in her hand as Luna approached.

Morning! I sang cheerfully, smiling warmly as we passed each other. 

Morning, they replied in unison. 

Luna trotted on, sniffing at the ground as she walked. Every now and again she would stop for a closer inspection of a bush or a rock, scrutinising the myriad of smells that must have been assaulting her nostrils. We rounded the next bend to find a pair of what could only be described as miniature lions on the path. Their light grey bodies were mostly hairless but this was balanced by a mop of wispy, beige hair that sprouted out of their necks to cover their faces. Their walker was sitting on the side of the path as I approached. 

Hello. Good morning, I announced. 

Hi, he replied, lifting his hand for a quick wave. 

Luna rolled over onto her back as she always does upon meeting an unimposing stranger. slut.

I walked on before giving a short, sharp whistle and Luna came bounding past me. The path gradually wound its way around the mountain, hugging its perimeter like a garter belt on a bride to be. We climbed gradually up the next hill and the path split. Luna went left without hesitation and I followed, acquiescing to her preference. 

We climbed several steps, lined with dark grey metal sleepers to prevent the path from eroding into a slippery slope, and then came upon a group of about sixty tall, majestic pine trees, swaying in a gentle breeze. I sat down on a weathered wooden bench built upon concrete supports beneath the imposing pines and breathed. 

The welcome breeze washed over me, thankfully separating my t-shirt, clammy with sweat, from my torso. I watched Luna explore the new terrain with interest. She marked her territory and then disappeared behind me. I closed my eyes and was instantly transported back in time by the enchanting sound of the wind through the trees. 

Memories of the soothing sound of the South Easter whooshing through the tops of the pine trees in my grandparent’s garden in Camps Bay, while I lay in bed before going to sleep as a young boy, coursed through my mind. The meditative sound grounded my spirit. My soul smiled with delight. I was pleased to have found a new happy place.