Against A Darker Tide – Available NOW!

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The Kindle version of Against A Darker Tide is available now on Amazon. The print version will be available in another week or so. Enjoy!


Scion of the Black Stone

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Introduction: The Past is Preamble I I am Justin Geoffrey Cole, and I am a madman born of a line of madmen. My father was mad, and his father before him. Perhaps you have heard of my grandfather, the mad poet Justin Geoffrey, who died screaming in an asylum in 1926? The learned, the well-informed,…


The Statements of William Tobey

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Even as I did so, a hurtling mass of reeking fur and flesh struck me from behind, at the small of my back, so that I was flung…through the gaping window into the drenching, storm-tossed darkness of the night. I I have read my erstwhile colleague’s account of my supposed disappearance one blood-curdling night on…


The Fenton Troll Tooth

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Of a sudden, the thunderous footsteps halted.  There was an enormous, effortful groaning accompanied by a vast, wet, sucking sound, as if a titan galosh had been pulled free of a correspondingly large quagmire.  Finch spun in outright panic toward Bane and the girls. I Atticus Bane, intrepid inquirer into the improbable and the explicable,…


Oz of the Dead

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His features were withered and desiccated, the sallow, discolored parchment skin stretched over sharp bones beneath. His eyes were red embers burning from the depths of sunken orbits, and as he opened his mouth to moan a hideous and sickening moan, she saw that his teach were a jagged serration, his tongue a black worm…


Against a Darker Tide

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Montana was ass-deep in droolers as soon as she kicked through the buckled remains of the lobby door. Through her RITIGs, it was a green and black vision of hell—a crowd of the unliving rounding on the sudden racket, jaws champing with rabid anticipation. Prologue On a sepulchral autumn night, in the half-forgotten town of…


The Wildman of Dismal Hollow

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Bane turned slowly, and met the volcanic glare of two burning, bloodshot eyes, peering out at him from a dirt-streaked, nut-brown face, wreathed by greasy, tangled hair; the apparition thrust from the undergrowth less than a foot from Bane’s nose. I That intrepid team of inquirers into the improbable and the inexplicable, Atticus Bane and…


The Wear-Wolf of Blood Manor

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Field stones in the old walls winding about the property shattered with gun-shot explosions that would have startled coveys of partridge into the air, had those not been imprisoned within the frozen wickerwork of their sheltering underbrush, lucky to still be on the living side of hypothermia. I Frost Giants – immense, primordial, inhuman entities…