Bones of Aneth-Ka in Witch House # 2

 

a cornucopia of alarming tales, including my own Weird Urban Western, Bones of Aneth-Ka.

Get it here: 

https://witchhousemag.blogspot.com/2022/08/witch-house-issue-2-is-now-available.html

Arena of the Death Cult in Whetstone #5

Download it here:

 https://whetstonemag.blogspot.com/2022/06/whetstone-issue-5-now-available.html

Six Heads for Gullahm-Khullgosh in Whetstone #4.

 https://whetstonemag.blogspot.com/2021/12/whetstone-issue-4-now-available.html

Download your free copy of Whetstone #4 for free and enjoy the mind boggling Six Heads for Gullahm-Khullgosh, along with other sanity blasting Sword and Sorcery!

Corridors - a new anthology

Tower of Ornelia in Savage Realms Monthly #5.

 My story Tower of Ornelia, is included in the latest Savage Realms Monthly:

Savage Realms Monthly: June 2021: A collection of dark fantasy sword and sorcery short adventure stories (Savage Realms Monthly Dark Fantasy Sword and Sorcery Adventure Magazine Book 5)

by Amazon.com Services LLC
Learn more: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B099FJZLNX/ref=cm_sw_em_r_mt_dp_NR1R5XC9265186H6GK0J

Sigyn Volume 2 Paperback available.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B092CBMKQZ/ref=cm_sw_em_r_mt_dp_8S77A3RT7WRWE0SR906Z

Come and get it, True Believer!

Savage Realms #2

One of my tales has made it into this fine publication. 

https://www.amazon.com/Savage-Realms-Monthly-collection-adventure-ebook/dp/B08Y5775T6

The Embrace of Masa-Mangtow

 

What follows is a fragment of an account of a sea voyage by Hippias of Syracuse. It currently exists only as a Latin translation of an older Greek source. 

I.

Aranthur, one of the various sea-warlords who have run roughshod across the world of late, had carved himself a small kingdom among the lands to the west. These included a chain of islands that lay beyond and south of Gades. Unable to explore these islands himself, he procured the services of the famed explorer and cartographer, Erastus of Argos. Erastus in turn called upon me, Hippias of Syracuse, to undertake the voyage with him. Holding Erastus in high esteem as a mentor, and hungering to venture once more to unknown regions, I accepted his invitation.

The Stalkers of U’Ad

 

 

I. Waylaid!

    I stood at bay, the still-warm carcass of my slain dromedary at my back, surrounded by a half-dozen dwarfish Qllgir hill men; they brandished long, wickedly-curved knives and their eyes were hidden behind lenses of darkly stained glass. I tore the keffiyeh from my head and spat at them.

    “Dogs! Come forth and have done with it!”

John Saxon, RIP.

We Schlock Lords have and will continue to bend knee to the Immortal Spirit of John Saxon.

Godspeed. 

Sigyn of Asgard volume two on Amazon.

Get some.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086ZTBDW9/ref=cm_sw_r_other_apa_i_eGEKEb124FK90

On the Three Millionth Day. Kindle edition.

Get it while it's radioactive.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B085NB8Y3S/ref=cm_sw_r_other_apa_i_0sAzEbGSW549K

Sigyn of Kindle

Get your e-book here.

I've rewritten Sigyn out of the Hyborian  Age and into a quasi-historical bronze age. Reaching the pinnacle of vanity, I've self published with Kindle. At least it's cheap.

The Matrix of Khouzouhept

I
  Kaa-Vulth, deposed Emperor of Tazzozz, grinned as he surveyed the surreal vista laid out in the bowl-shaped valley beneath him.

The Track of the God-Ape

It is, I‘m told, natural for one to grow nostalgic as one ages. Like many others I look back with wistful fondness upon my youth and childhood. But I have also found myself immersed in reminiscences that are not connected with any events of my lifetime. Visions I would dismiss as daydreams or phantasms were it not for their vividness and the absolute conviction I have that I lived these events as surely as I attended grade school and enjoyed my first kiss. One such vision that forced itself upon me is a memory from when I was Diyang-Buru of the Stork Folk.

Wings out of Hell

Painting by Bob Rothwell.

www.deviantart.com/ustranga

Prologue

Excerpts from the Karkana Fragments, a collection of fifteen partially complete clay tablets housed at the Tokyo National Museum. 

It is claimed by some scholars they were translated to Greek from an earlier, proto-greek language from scrolls dating from 10,000 years B.C.E.:

    … Thus did Nanossuss of Koth with fivescore and twenty spearmen drive headlong into the massed throngs of the Red Brotherhood upon the beach at Velathra.

    Outnumbered twenty to one, and roughly treated by the archers loosing their arrows from the decks of some five hundred triremes thronging the bay, they smashed the pirate rabble and laid them low.
The retinue of Nanossuss slew until their spears were broken, then belabored the corsairs with sword and axe. The waves were stained deep crimson and the beach cluttered with all manner of human detritus.

In the Garden of the Toad

    François Arnauld, late of Saint-Domingue, drained the last of the wine from his bejeweled goblet; heedless of the overflow dribbling down his long, unkempt beard and further staining the white linen robe that shrouded his bulbous form. The heavy oak chair he wallowed in creaked in protest as he shifted his flabby bulk. Wiping first his mouth then his sweaty forehead with his dirty sleeve, He proffered the empty goblet to a white-robed Creole girl at his side, who dutifully refilled it. François leered at her from behind the darkened spectacles he habitually wore and bared his blackened gums and rotting teeth at her in a perverse grin.

The Widow Ayers

“But the devils cannot interfere with the stars.”  

― Heinrich Kramer, Malleus Maleficarum

I

   I will own that even now in my dotage, I am neither wise nor of particularly strong character, but after bearing witness to the events I am about to relate to you, I came to the conclusion there is naught on God’s earth that can frighten me again. One does not look upon the face of primal, naked horror and come away unchanged.

The Grasping Coils

Prologue 

    The dark, bald-pated man finished encircling himself and a companion in a ring of rock salt, his saffron robes stained with sweat. In one hand he grasped a black candle, in the other an obscenely formed mandrake root. Wetting his dry lips he turned to his compatriot, a swarthy, mustachioed man clad in black silken finery.

She-Fiends of Yaramaj

She-Fiends of Yaramaj

Being an account of the violence that plagued that city, as recorded by Kostio, subprefect.

The First Incident

    It was in the third week of my assignment to the city guard of Yaramaj that the first incident occurred. The incident was unusual only in the fact it was brought to our attention at all, and that the one reporting it was such an outlandish individual. She was a green-eyed giantess of a woman, with flaxen hair bound it two great braids that reached to her waist, clad in a rude tunic sewn from a tiger’s pelt.