Deby Adair is an author, artist, graphic
artist, environmentalist and past equestrian.
Deby Adair has always loved the purity and truth of unicorns and their
archetypal majesty. Deby loves all animals and champions animal rights, the
environment and human rights. She believes we must take care of our natural
world.
A reader all her life, Deby began writing stories, poetry and prose from a very young age and the WISH trilogy is based on many works of writing and art which she produced as a girl but later embelished and created into her three novels.
Writing this trilogy and creating a vast collection of wonderful, exciting art works has occupied her for many years now. We hope you enjoy her much loved books and wonderful artwork as much as Deby enjoyed creating them! She is currently writing more books.
A reader all her life, Deby began writing stories, poetry and prose from a very young age and the WISH trilogy is based on many works of writing and art which she produced as a girl but later embelished and created into her three novels.
Writing this trilogy and creating a vast collection of wonderful, exciting art works has occupied her for many years now. We hope you enjoy her much loved books and wonderful artwork as much as Deby enjoyed creating them! She is currently writing more books.
During my 'travels' as a writer, as a follower of mystical
marvels, a dreamer who shapes words, and a believer in making
dreams come true, I have met unicorns.
I met them long ago, when I was a girl... a girl whom animals
followed through the streets, who sat under shady trees and talked to
the ethers, sending out her thoughts in happy, floating imaginings;
who deliberately touched trees as she passed them and climbed
rocky, red soiled and sun-struck hills, barefoot. A girl who cradled
her pet chicken for hours at a time, stroking the red feathers and
telling her things about the magical ministries of nature and fairies,
which chickens must already know as they scratch in the yard and
roll in the dirt after a day of dozing in the sun.
There was so much to understand and learn about places
unseen - hidden places - places where beauty unravelled as naturally
as a mountain stream, where waterfalls of galloping horses would
masquerade as drops of water, vibrating with essences invisible to
the mortal eye. Hanging fig trees with grand canopies hid the musichalls
of fairies and, in the tumbling sun-slants of thick forest
undergrowth, there walked elves and their consorts, stately beings
with watchful eyes.
Humans played no part in these places; they were the scratch
that soured the day; muttering and grumbling about the
inconvenience of passing thunder storms, moaning about the things
they needed or didn't need, telling a small child what she could, and
could not do.
But I knew something then which I lost for a while, and yet, in
the blink of an eye, in later life, reclaimed.
I knew that if I closed my eyes and drifted with morning mists
or walked barefoot in streams or on dew, if I held a cricket in my
hand and listened to its chirp - all the time my eyes shut tight - then
suddenly, when the moment chose, the whole world would entangle
in a web of perfect silence and, in that moment, it would happen. A
brush upon my brow or on my bare-skinned arm and the sigh of a
gentle breath… the softest most intangible fleeting gossamer touch
would send tingles up my spine. And I knew, I knew for certain, that
I had felt the unicorn's kiss.
‘What is that?’ you ask, almost believing me. Well, I will tell
you this: A unicorn's kiss is the brush of their forelock or mane upon
those lucky humans still unsullied by the mortal world - a child of
pure heart – and the merest sensation of their breath accompanies the
stroke of their silken touch. Yet in the second that you open your
eyes to catch a glimpse, there may only be one thing which, captive
in your mortal shell, you may or may not hear - the swish of a step as
they leave.
It's rarer now. Even for the pure of heart, the earth is filled with
noise and harsh battering. Fences patch the planet far and wide and
trees and forests dwindle from man’s harsh hand, whilst the gentle
spirits that care for them are fleeing, eradicated by terror from the
human smell and touch.
However, there is still a unicorn forest. It is the last place that
immortality reigns and can be shown to us in our frail human
lifespan. But I cannot tell you where that is... for you must find it for
yourself.
'Be careful where you tread
On a misty winter’s night
For stories tell of things we dread
But they may not be right
Be careful where you tip-toe
On a morning kissed with spring
For you may see the unicorn
As she stops to breathe dew in
Be careful where you stand and sing
Should you do so near a mountain stream
For you may lose your heart my friend
To the mysteries of a dream…’ © ‘UnicornKisses’
The WISH trilogy - by Deby Adair. – Book 1: WISH-Dreams Beginning,
Book 2: WISH AGAIN-Dreams Truth, Book 3: The THIRD WISH-Dreams
Honour.
Website: www.unicornkisses.com
Benny’s Blog: Tips for young creators
http://unicornkisses.com/blog/?page_id=240
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/dashboard
Purchase the WISH trilogy: www.greatmindsliterarycommunity.com
, www.unicornkisses.com , www.fishpond.com.au
eBooks and paperbacks sold from the 28th August 2012:
www.amazon.com , www.barnesandnoble.com
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