A body drained of blood is found on Hampstead Heath. Three nights later, a white face is seen pressed against a window in Highgate. In Hampstead tube station, something titters in the shadows of the platform. In Surrey, a phone rings.
The agents of the Westenra Fund are on the case…(more…)
Over the past five (nearly six) years, I’ve written a plenitude of stories featuring the characters of Charles St. Cyprian, the Royal Occultist, and his assistant, Ebe Gallowglass. So many, in fact, that two years ago I had to assemble a story chronology, for my benefit, if no one else’s. And since I’m busy this week and it’s unlikely that you’ll be getting any substantive posts, here’s said chronology, with accompanying art by MD Jackson. (more…)
The new Royal Occultist novel, The Infernal Express, has been out for about two weeks now, and I thought I’d say a bit more about it, in case anyone reading this is on the fence about picking up a copy. (more…)
Let’s start the week off right, shall we? With a story about a story, and the permutations thereof. Also about the barnacle-like nature of certain ideas and how you can never *quite* do them justice, no matter how many times you give it a go. (more…)
Armies ride to war as the vampire-king stirs in his bloody slumber. The Royal Occultist races against the Devil, but no matter how swift he flees, the Devil is always just behind. For the dead have ever traveled fast…(more…)