Dear Grown-ups and Kidderlings,
My name is Tom and I wrote this book. I just want to check – are you sure you want to read it? Like, really sure? If you read my last novel – The Christmasaurus – then thank you very much, but it is my duty to warn you: this book contains no flying dinosaurs, no Santa, no singing elves (thankfully!) and zero marvellously magical flying reindeer. This book has something far stranger, far creepier, more stinky, sloppy, mucky and yucky than that . . .
. . . This book has Creakers.
I’m beyond excited for you to meet the Creakers, and I know they’re oozing with excitement to meet you too – after all, they’ve been spying on you from beneath your bed for a very long time. They know all about you already (yes, you!) and now it’s time for you to hear their story. If you dare.
When I was a kid, my dad used to tell me science- fiction stories about aliens and monsters. They always fascinated me and they ignited a passion for the unusual, the mysterious and the unknown. The downside is that I’m thirty-two and still scared of the dark (or what’s hiding in it)
Some of the things that defined my childhood, and ultimately my life, were the things that scared me, from Ghostbusters to Gremlins, Cocoon to Flight of the Navigator, Close Encounters of the Third Kind to Thriller. The adrenaline rush and feeling of triumph that came after experiencing these things secured them a place in my heart forever – and now, with The Creakers, I think it’s time to scare the kids again.
We ride rollercoasters to scare ourselves, knowing deep down we are in perfectly safe hands. I hope those who read this have a similar experience.
I can’t thank you all enough for your support and for giving me the opportunity to write a second novel.
Thanks, and good luck!
The Creakers are waiting . . .