Henry Harrison is twelve-years-old and something of a minor tearaway. He is also, quite incorrectly, the prime suspect of the armed robbery of a market trader and, as the novel begins, on the run from the law.
Anxious to clear his name, he finds midnight sanctuary, illegally, in the home of a retired professor of physics, but rather than immediately hand him over to the police, the professor listens to his trespasser’s tale with some sympathy and even offers to help Henry clear his name. This he does by allowing him to use his newest, most secret and prized invention – the ability to travel in time.
'The Time Flyers' is a combination of the good old ripping yarns Henry’s grandfather might have read and a modern adventure story, with modern boys and featuring some of the latest hi-tech gizmos to hand. It is a fast-moving, often very funny, seat-of-the-pants ride across time and space and therefore a must-read for everyone who likes suspense, a little sc-fi and nail-biting drama. Oh yes – readers must be able to cope with hungry sabre tooth tigers, thieving, prehistoric cavemen from the last ice age and a 2,000-year-old, far from friendly, Roman patrol somewhere near Lake Windermere, the largest lake in England. For, when the kindly professor is kidnapped by terrorists, Henry and Razi’s exploits (Razi is the professor’s grandson) as they try to rescue both him and a world leader taken hostage with him, their most unusual adventures are guaranteed to leave the reader gasping, literally, for breath!
So, if it is high adventure you are after download 'The Time Flyers', fasten your seatbelts, and hang on for grim death!
Whilst Razi and Henry had been impersonating tiger food and talking to the professor, something very, very big was happening in the kitchen. Some three minutes after the traumatised kidnappers had screamed their way into the body of the house, a rather large pair of tusks appeared through the walls of the now, much lower, cone. The tusks, which were curved and around five metres long, were followed by a massive, high-peaked, knob-like head, which looked around the kitchen with little interest and apparently, complete bafflement. Almost instantly bored by the uninteresting, twenty-first century kitchen; the four metre tall woolly mammoth slowly turned itself around. Then, after trumpeting twice, wiggling its bottom and stamping its great feet on the floor of the cone, the kindly creature bestowed, upon the 'lucky' occupiers of Fellgarth Towers, the quite extraordinary gift of a large, unbelievably smelly deposit, of extremely rare, prehistoric mammoth dung. In conclusion, with a final trumpeting farewell and a proud, concluding glance at the now almost completely overloaded and steaming kitchen table, the giant, lonely beast, wandered off; returning nonchalantly and happily, to the dying days of the last, great, ice age.