‘Don’t go out on the moors,’ said the mistress of the house. She giggled and flounced away. For a long time, she didn’t, instead frowning out of the glitter-framed windows…
She woke each day and smiled at the shadow in the corner of her room. It was a ritual. A thing that made the shadow less looming in the dark…
The queen, resplendent in tabby-and-white fur, regarded the spirit at the foot of the stairs with a lazy half-lidded glance. ‘And what is it you seek again?’ She asked in…
This is a serial fiction posted in one toot daily (ish) during October on Mastodon. It was unplanned and experimental, and I’m pretty happy with the result. I hope you…
Every day, the hound watched the sun set over the graveyard, walking between the headstones, nose quivering in search of a particular scent. As the sun vanished behind the mountains…
Red light gleamed from the dark hollows of her eyes. Her skin grew aged and leathery as parchment. She bared cruelly pointed teeth. ‘This is what I am,’ she said….
Her dog was a creature of moonlight and chill wind. It lived on the hill behind her house, in the ruins of the old stable. She’d been up there to…
She played late into the night and then later still, ignorant of the shadows pressing in on all sides, uncaring of the heaviness of her limbs or the life set…
In support of the kickstarter for BOOKS & BONE (which funded! EEK!) I did a series of faux non-fiction toots on Mastodon detailing ghost research. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it! …
She’d heard that on a certain day, at a certain time, you could meet your own ghost haunting the graveyard at St Mary’s. In the hour before dawn, she stood…