The Secret Of the Hidden Tomb Intro
This is a children's story I wrote many years ago, it was accepted for publication but declined when the editor changed. With modern technology I am now sharing my story with the world.
The Illustrations are by Keith Broomfield a dear friend who is now deceased.
Please feel free to leave me feedback. 
The Secret of the Hidden Tomb:
Chapter One:
A gentle rain fell softly on the short springy grass of the moors; fat wortleberries hiding low beneath their leaves, glistened succulently as tender rivulets of rain slid and danced down into the deep jungle of green that covered the rich soil. Aggressive outcrops of granite lay scattered in bewildering confusion as far as the eye could see, motionless, as though the aeons of time since violently deposited by angry volanic parents. Impervious to rain and wind, the served only as shelter to the silent scraggy sheep that made thier homes on the moors, huddling gratefully in the lee of these sentinels of time.
A warm, late summer day was drawing to its close, and the sun long since departed. The Tors, rolling endlessy into the distance, were slowly loosing their form inthe clocking greyness. Far in the distance a small church tower, fading in the gloom, stood un challenged on the highest out crop of rock. Stark and lonely, centuries old it stood sentinel over the moors, as the silence of dusk fell broken only by the gentle patter of the falling rain.
Startled by some sudden sounds, a ram jerkily left the shelter of a large rock close to the top of one of the tors. It paused and listened, then, vexed and uncertain, ambled off to the shelter under a neighbouring outcrop.
Four boys rounded the rocks, clearly in some haste. they wore no coats; their heads were bent forward and the collars of their blazers upturned in an attempt to keep the persistent rain from tickling down inside their necks; hands were thrust deep into pockets. They halted; water running off their face found its way down inside their collars.
"Uggh"! grunted the tallest, a lad of about sixteen years. "We shouldn't have gone so far this afternoon. We shan' t get back now 'till well after dark!"
"Never mind Bob", replied the smallest member of the party, a fair, curly headed lad of fourteen. "There's the devil's point just visible. We know where we are now." He pointed to the distant, fast disappearing church.
"We shan't see that much longer Curly", the third boy spoke up. The eldest of the party at seventeen, he was looked upon as the leader. "Lets hurry."
"Wait a minute, Tom!" Slightly apart from the other three boys ,the forth member of the group wiped his glasses. "Whats the matter, Chris?"
"I dont know. Over there, look". As he spoke, he put back his spectacles and pointed to the out crop of the rocks from which the startled ram had appeared. The others followed his gaze.
