The first issue of Occult Detective Quarterly is now available for purchase, and as is only proper for a magazine with that title, it includes a story by me, myself and I. “Orbis Tertius” finds St. Cyprian and Gallowglass investigating a cursed artefact of a most unusual sort, as a monstrous evil seeks to consume the membership of London’s Voyagers Club. (more…)
War. The drumbeat of war sounded throughout the Mortal Realms. In Ghur, armies mustered in the wild places, as the great powers sought to claim dominion over uncertain ground. And amongst the most uncertain was the Great Fenland of Chiropteros – better known to its inhabitants as the Ghost Bat Bog.
These fenlands are an ever-shifting sump of thick grasses and bald patches of rough, muddy ground, dotted with the broken remnants of a hundred forgotten marsh-kingdoms. Trees rise wild among the peatlands, growing strong on a charnel feast served over centuries. The dead still walk within sunken mansions in the Ghost Bat Bog, and strange, cyclopean shapes prowl the misty marshes, preying on the degenerate descendants of the old kingdoms.
It is among these savage marsh-folk that the Unseen first came, as the skies grew black with the war storm. He – or she, for none knew who or what they were, beneath their golden helm and dark robes – spoke cryptic truths, and drew the marsh-folk out of hiding, helping them to recall the ancient arts they had long forgotten – or perhaps never known in the first place… (more…)
During the Horus Heresy Weekender this past weekend, someone let slip the titles of two of my forthcoming projects from Black Library. So, since they’re out in the open, I thought I’d share the images, in lieu of anything substantive. (more…)
There’s a new story for Patrons up over at my Patreon page, for those interested in some weekend reading. A dollar buys you “Barnard’s Law”, which takes place in an alternate Elizabethan era, where the Spanish Armada succeeded, and the Court of St. James were forced to flee to England’s overseas holdings.
Now, Christopher Marlowe, playwright, gadfly and secret agent, is forced to play a deadly game in the primeval forests of the New World, in order to win allies for the nascent kingdom of Virginia, before the Spanish beat him to it… (more…)
I’ve been remiss in pointing out some new stuff that’s come out recently. And by new stuff, I mean books, which you can buy, if you’re of a mind. (more…)
By the light of the flux-fires, the acolytes waited and murmured uneasily among themselves. In the hellish glow of the great bonfires, daemon-shapes murmured softly, eagerly, in a tongue that none save the adepts, in their feathered war-masks , could understand.
Abruptly, the flux-fires blazed up, clawing at the stars above, as if to wrench them from the firmament. For a moment, the flames wavered and split, as if parted by monstrous hands, and beyond them, a howling void of endless colour and light spun in a lunatic pattern.
A moment later, a tall, masked figure stepped forth from within the shimmering flux-flames, staff in hand. The acolytes stiffened attentively, as the newcomer began to speak. Perhaps it was time, at last, for the Cockatrice Conclave to go to war… (more…)