Hello lovelies! Today I have an extract from The Chameleon by David Farrell as part of the book tour organised by Kelly Lacey at Love Books Tours. First, a little about the book:
Title: The Chameleon by David Farrell
Date Published: 24th June 2022
Publisher: Kingsley Publishers
Genre: Literary Fiction / Historical Fiction
Description:
The Chameleon is the tale of Rorke Wilde, who grows up in Rhodesia. Rorke's needs to mimic his pet chameleon, if he is to survive the racial discourse in a country divided by apartheid during the 1970s.
Rorke's father works in the British South Africa Police while his mother is a clerk in the tax office. His best friend and father figure is the family's domestic worker, Themba Dube, an AmaNdebele of Zulu descent. Who guides Rorke through the turmoil of civil bias.
Themba introduces Rorke to his nephew Lucky Ndlovu, who lost his parents in the AIDS pandemic and who lives with his grandmother in a squatter camp (informal settlements) in Johannesburg.
The old man and boy share their experiences of a life of poverty post-independence where Rorke learns about the real Africa that he once saw through Panglossian glasses.
You can buy your copy here:
Amazon: http://mybook.to/TheChameleon
Or add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/60916762-the-chameleon?ref=nav_sb_ss_1_30
Excerpt:
I pressed my scrawny ten-year-old frame against the granite; the embedded lichen filled my senses. Veins of quartz and the glint of fool's gold brought the rock formations to life. With my airgun in hand, I peered over the ridge and selected a lead pellet from beneath my tongue. I was ready for my prey, a large rock lizard, to make a move.
I had forgotten to change after school with the thrill of the chase. Besides, the khaki camouflaged me here on the edges of the Kalahari.
Mum will be furious, but this is more important.
The heat burnt my lungs as sweat oozed from my Worzel Gummidge straw hair onto my brow and ran along the back of my neck.
That talking scarecrow looks nothing like me.
I flicked the flies from my eyes and spat out the bugs through chapped lips, cursing the unkind comments of the kids at school. The hunt had ended without success, so I sought shelter beneath the tree. I enjoyed the chase but not the kill. Guilt added to my self-loathing with every pursuit. It sounded glamorous in the cocktail lounge of the country club where my sister Cara and I messed around in the plush grounds while Mum and Dad attended soirees. Father, in his austere police uniform, oblivious to the kids pinching swigs of beer from the tables. More concerned with his waxed moustache as he twirled it between his fingers and patted the sleek blue-black hair. His efforts of a smouldering rock-and-roll stare was stranger than it was striking, without the complementary chin or impressive jawline. Mum always uneasy in a sleeveless floral dress preferring the freedom and functionality of slacks. On such evenings she puffed up her hair until it defied gravity, applied copious amounts of makeup and wore contact lenses, which turned her cobalt eyes red as the evening progressed.
About The Author:
Dave Farrell is a father of six who live around the world. From New Zealand and England to Portugal and Japan.
Born in Africa, his life experiences on three continents echo through his writing, in his favourite genres of historical fiction, coming of age sagas and non-fiction.
With an eye for detail, you can find him in the corner of a room or sat at a seat in the mall reading people. He has a fascination for human behaviours borne from 50 years of leadership.
Dave advocates for the Autistic community running an online group with over 20 000 members.
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