Richard Masson
"Orphaned and abandoned, JD's only hope is a man with his mouth sewn shut"
Boonie – picture

Orphaned and abandoned, JD’s only hope is a man with his mouth sewn shut

JD’s father has been burnt alive by the Silver Men. His mother has run away. Lost in the desert without water, JD meets a strange old man whose mouth has been sewn shut. That man’s secret will save his life. The search for his mother leads JD to the City, where he must face the true horrors of life under the Silver Men. Trapped inside the Pits of enslaved children scraping for water, he must risk everything and everyone he has ever loved in order to survive. BOONIE is a story of bravery, friendship, loss and hope that will stay with you long after the final page is turned.

Publication Date: Thu 1 Aug 2013
ISBN Paperback: 9781471400254



Richard Masson

Richard Masson (1943-2013) was born during the Second World War and lived in East London until he joined the Merchant Navy at the age of sixteen. Over a period of twenty years Richard travelled the high seas, qualifying as a ship's officer and once delivering a tug boat from Rotterdam to Bahrain. Although Richard tested out his 'land legs' in a series of jobs - manufacturing everything from cars to furniture - he realised aged forty that he didn't make a very good employee, so started his own successful Telecommunications company. After retiring, Richard split his time between writing full-time, and sailing yachts with his wife exploring the Atlantic and Mediterranean seas.


JD edged closer. He winced at the pain from the burns on his arms but he kept on going, crawling out of his hole, staying flat to the dirt, using his elbows to squirm towards the bag, all the time flicking his eyes between the sleeping man's face and that dull, metal tube. As he crawled a plan formed in his mind. When the time was right he'd dart forward, grab the bag and run as hard as he could, away across the scrub before the old man knew what was happening. JD ran his swollen tongue across dry lips, tried to swallow and thought about water. He crept closer and closer until, about midway between the dip and the tree he began to raise himself up. He needed to be sure nothing would give him away, a dry twig, a stone that might click against another. But it was all clear; just a fine layer of red dust covered the ground between him and that precious tube. JD licked his dry lips again; he could almost taste that cool, sweet water. One more step and he'd be close enough. He gathered himself for the final spring, drew a quiet breath and lifted his hands clear of the dust, ready to catapult himself forward, grab that bag and run. It was now or never. 'You touch that bag, son, and I'll snap you like a twig.' The voice sounded like it came from the sky; like the growl of distant thunder.