Three of my books are on sale in paperback!

At least for right now: FROZEN DREAMS is on sale for $8.51, TALES FROM THE FERMI RESOLUTION VOL 1 for $5.29, and MORGAN BAROD for $7.28. I’m not sure why those specific prices. Amazon sets them, not me. I still get paid the full amount I’m owed, so that’s cool, however they want to move books, they’re the subject matter expert and I am not.

#commissionearned

03/27/2024 Snippet, DOCTOR RYPMAW’S METHOD.

This has been a hard week to stay focused.

I flipped back the sheet, to the shudders of the madam and Edgar both. I tsk-tsked them both. “The dead don’t care if you’re rude.” I looked down, at the one eye left behind to stare at me. “Besides, this poor bastard’s past caring about anything.”

Which was all for the best. Besides the eye, the face was battered, with gouges ripped through cheeks, and chunks of scalp missing. I suspected that if I bothered to open the mouth, I’d find it full of broken teeth, but why bother? The man was dead. More importantly, I’d never seen him before. I flicked my eyes down, assessing his clothes. “I take it this was not your companion, then.”

Edgar looked over, gulped, and turned his head. “No, Ha– sir. He was gone by the time I was called for.”

The madam spoke up. “The two gentlemen arrived together, sir.” She wasn’t gulping, I noted. Well, it probably wasn’t her first corpse, either. “When the commotion started, I naturally sent for him, so that he could restrain his friend.”

“Restrain him from what? …Right,” I sighed. “Why don’t we start from the beginning?”

03/25/2024 Snippet, DOCTOR RYPMAW’S METHOD.

Got snared on a little project, had to push myself to get some of this done.

The business I was upon was the sort that needed no gossipy cabbie to see, so I was half-soaked by the time I reached the disreputable house that was my destination. And there in front of me was young Edgar W[*], shivering and sniveling under the spluttering gaslight. His finery was soggy and his expression woebegone, neither of which were normal for him. But then; if the boy had been quite himself, he would never have needed to send for me.

These night-time enterprises typically go the same way, so I raised a hand to forestall him. “I do not care what you did or did not mean to do, my boy.” My tone at these little moments is much sterner than is my usual wont. It saves time. “That is not important. What is important is, who witnessed it, and who has been told already?”

“No! No!” he exclaimed, as if on cue. “It’s not like that, Harry!”

“On the contrary: it is always like that,” I told him, severely. “And no names. Names cost extra to wash away in the rain.”

In the (e-)Mail: THE IRON MAIDEN Dark Adventure Radio Theater production.

THE IRON MAIDEN is the HPL Historical Society’s latest Dark Adventure Radio Theater (DART). It’s not based on a Lovecraft story, because they’re out of those; but the good folks of the HPLHS have their little ways to bring something into the Mythos, yes, they do. I’m listening to it right now; the props will come in a few weeks. As always: check it out.

Tweet of the Day, WHY Was This [Not] Turned Into An Album Cover?

WHY?

Via @EsotericCD.