In the moments of panic and devastation after the coming of the Shadow, Vespesian has long, bitter minutes to reconsider his position. Standing in his camouflage constructed from crowds of fearful, tear-stricken commoners,… Read More
Rolf lies spread-eagled, a beautiful rag doll, on the cold floor of a vault with walls smooth and reflective as mirrors. Dried blood lines his nostrils, too dark against the ghastly white of… Read More
This fabulous Goth Lady, who I’ve been lucky enough to be in an anthology with (City of Hell Chronicles 1), has to my complete lack of surprise managed to secure herself a deal… Read More
Their footsteps on the stairs ringing like bells, Imalia and her daughters scale the inner staircase of the tower. Imalia’s veil whips behind her, a purple cloud. Her excitement fills the narrow space,… Read More
Lost. This one word has become the sum of all his thoughts. Vespesian despises it. Despises the Libraryrinth with equal ferocity, maze that is it, foul conundrum, just an unplace beneath an atrocity… Read More
I’d like to introduce to you all the lovely Emma Newman. I’m delighted to be hosting one of her wonderful Split Worlds stories on the run-up to the release of the first novel… Read More
Stuttering gunfire raddles the sea air and whips into the waves, throwing up red frosted fans of black water. The deep boom and thud of cannon fire resounds through the melee as a… Read More
Londinium’s face is broad and multi-faceted. Hewn from pale yellow stone, gleaming white marbles, and the grey hulk of granites, it is noble and degenerate, a harlot, a king, a priest, a charlatan.… Read More
‘There’s nothing so savage as time, dear Anabelle,’ Imalia purrs, running a slender finger around the curve of Anabelle’s cheekbone, digging her nail in to draw a line of blood. Tiny droplets spill,… Read More
‘The clock ticks ever closer,’ Saleth warns, sweeping the ground with a willow brush, her eyes fleeting a glance at the rising moon before turning a worried gaze upon the cat. The cat… Read More
