![\"The](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.everywritersresource.com\/selfpublished\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/11\/Nectar-Fields-Cover-Art.jpg?resize=217%2C346\" "\\"The")
Author<\/h2>\nJohnathon Major<\/p>\n
Johnathon Major was raised in Dorset, growing up with his brother and two sisters on England’s historic south coast. It was here that Johnathon first developed a fascination with storytelling. Inspired by the authors and books he was surrounded with, he begun to write stories of his own from a young age \u2013 a passion that has continued to this day.<\/p>\n
Pursuing his interests, Johnathon moved to London to study at Royal Holloway University, where he specialised in creative writing. During his time there, he competed in several prestigious writing competitions, gaining both national and international praise and recognition.<\/p>\n
Following his graduation, Johnathon went on to work for Paramount Pictures, Talkback Thames TV and the Walt Disney Company, on projects that include the recently released World War Z and Maleficent.<\/p>\n
Today Johnathon still lives in London and spends most of his time writing. He is captured by stories that are both impactful and fantastical. Writing that moves you, and stays with you long after you’ve finished reading inspires him most, with these elements forming core features in his own work.<\/p>\n
The Nectar Fields is Johnathon\u2019s debut novella, exploring the terrors of slavery set in the backdrop of a beautifully imagined world full of unimaginable creatures.<\/p>\n
Butterflies have been brought from all over the world to the nectar plantations of the Southwest Plaines. There, under the relentless watch of the bees, they are worked until they die or, worse, get sent to the hive.<\/p>\n
The Nectar Fields is an allegorical novella, by Johnathon Major, exploring the traumatic and surprising effects of slavery on individual lives, told through the narrative of the butterflies on Mister Bairon’s farm in the year that changed everything.<\/p>\n
During a parched summer harvest, an unexpected visit from the depraved socialite Mister Bradford plunges the farm into new depths of darkness.<\/p>\n
Old Elsie, the farm\u2019s longest serving resident, strives to keep hope alive in her fellow butterflies, in spite of the increasingly terrible cruelties being inflicted upon them. Though such cruelties were nothing compared to the threat posed by Mister Bradford\u2019s demands that one of them be sent to the hive, in order to replace the workers who were killed in a catastrophic honey spill.<\/p>\n
Inspired by Old Elsie\u2019s words, Remee, the farm\u2019s most able worker, steals away to marry Orianna, a butterfly prized for her beauty and kept on the farm for Mister Bairon\u2019s personal pleasures. And whilst George, a graying mute, warns Remee of the torture he will inflict upon himself by loving another, a pain George knows all too well, Remee cannot be shook from his stubborn determination.<\/p>\n
Meanwhile, Cherry, a sprightly soul heartbroken by Remee\u2019s union with Orianna, turns her attention to gaining the interest of Mister Bradford. In her desperate gambit to free herself from her misery, she stands to gain more than she bargained for.<\/p>\n
The winter brings with it change and a tragic death on the farm sees Remee resolve to free Orianna from the lust of the bees, forever. Convincing Jasper, Mister Bairon\u2019s gentle-natured son, to aid him, he embarks on a daring rescue mission that will lead to freedom in the north.<\/p>\n
In the midst of twisted seductions, savage tempers and the choking heat, the butterflies find themselves subjected to formidable challenges and impossible choices, through which they will all discover for themselves how deadly having hope can be.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s happened?\u201d Remee asked again, panic rising in his voice.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s Cherry, child. She took off with Mister Bradford this mornin\u2019 and we ain\u2019t seen her since.\u201d<\/p>\n
A surge of terror pulsed through Remee. Taking Old Elsie\u2019s free hand, he hurried her back into the bunk hut to spare her wings from the downpour.<\/p>\n
George joined them inside, closing the door.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid they say where they were going?\u201d Remee demanded.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe woods, that\u2019s all they said, child.\u201d<\/p>\n
The tremble in Old Elsie\u2019s voice was unnerving, never had Remee seen fear in her like this. He snatched up an empty nectar jar, poured in half the oil from Old Elsie\u2019s lantern, lit a thread he had torn from the sack across his wings and stuck it in.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhich way?\u201d he demanded.<\/p>\n
Old Elsie stared at him, in awe of his bravery. \u201cThey took off through the birches, child. Straight through the crescent.\u201d<\/p>\n
Remee grabbed the lantern he had just made and headed for the door.<\/p>\n
\u201cMister Bairon will be comin\u2019 soon to lock the door,\u201d Old Elsie cautioned. \u201cWho knows what he\u2019ll do if he finds you missin\u2019 too? Wait \u2018til he\u2019s gone, child, and then sneak out through the boards.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe can\u2019t wait Ol\u2019 Elsie.\u201d<\/p>\n
Remee took a moment to ensure the sack across his wings covered them fully. When he turned back to the door George was at his side, his own sack fastened around his neck. Before Remee could reach for the handle, the door flew open and Cherry frolicked in from the rain. \u201cEvenin\u2019 all,\u201d she sang.<\/p>\n
\u201cCherry!\u201d Old Elsie shrieked, flying across the room and snatching her up. \u201cWe thought somethin\u2019 awful had been done to you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOl\u2019 Elsie, please, my coat.\u201d Cherry wriggled from Old Elsie\u2019s grip. The others watched as she smoothed down the edges of a navy blue wing coat draped over her shoulders.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere did you get that, child?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMister Bradford, of course. Ain\u2019t it pretty?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt sure is,\u201d Old Elsie replied, enthusiasm absent from her voice.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt started rainin\u2019 and you can\u2019t be wanderin\u2019 about the market with your wings hangin\u2019 out.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMister Bradford took you to the town?\u201d Old Elsie asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd the mills and the river parlour, and tonight my nest.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour nest, child?\u201d<\/p>\n
A grin erupted across Cherry\u2019s face. She rushed to Old Elsie, clasping both her hands. \u201cOh Ol\u2019 Elsie. The most wonderful thing\u2019s happened. Mister Bradford\u2019s asked me to go with him to the hive. He said I\u2019m to be a lady of leisure. He said I\u2019ll have my own nest an\u2019 everythin\u2019. Finally, all that hopin\u2019s paid off!\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
The colour drained from Old Elsie\u2019s face. \u201cAnd what did Mister Bairon say about this?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s given me his blessin\u2019! Well, at least he will do. Mister Bradford\u2019s talkin\u2019 to him right this second. You ever notice how Mister Bairon wriggles like a worm every time Mister Bradford\u2019s around?\u201d Cherry laughed.<\/p>\n
Old Elsie sank down on her bunk.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, don\u2019t worry!\u201d Cherry hurried to her side. \u201cYou can keep what you want from my things. I won\u2019t be needin\u2019 any of it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can\u2019t go with him, Cherry,\u201d came Remee\u2019s voice from across the hut.<\/p>\n
Cherry spun to face the grave-faced butterfly.<\/p>\n
\u201cMister Bradford ain\u2019t a good man,\u201d Remee said, fighting to sound calm. \u201cHe won\u2019t treat you right.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNonsense. Mister Bradford\u2019s been nothin\u2019 but gentle an\u2019 sweet. He\u2019s promised to love me.\u201d She pulled her coat closed and marched for the door.<\/p>\n
Remee grabbed her arm. \u201cCherry, listen to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
She yanked her hand back, trying to rip free. \u201cNo! You\u2019re just jealous \u2018cos I\u2019ve found my happiness whilst the most lovin\u2019 your wife gets is under the weight of another man.\u201d<\/p>\n
Remee\u2019s fingers fell limp around her wrist.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh Cherry,\u201d Old Elsie breathed, stunned.<\/p>\n
\u201cMiss Cherry?\u201d Mister Bradford\u2019s voice called, rich with charm, across the field outside.<\/p>\n
Cherry gave Remee a final glance. \u201cI\u2019m sorry you didn\u2019t get your happy endin\u2019,\u201d she said, \u201cbut you ain\u2019t gonna ruin mine.\u201d<\/p>\n