Now when I think of Herne the Hunter all I can picture is breathless women unable to control themselves and throwing themselves at him, which is about as annoying as reading about it. I did around a third of the book in two minds, hoping it would pick up and the boddice ripping would stop but it carried on through the ages. The final section, by which time I had entirely lost interest and wanted to move on to something else, is set in the future and in a bid to sound futuristic the phrasing becomes stilted and then typeset into some kind of prose poem which is what we will all be doing in 2073. Giving this two stars as the writer is clearly capable of good writing, but not for me.