Friend of mine: “Seriously, Red is the only story I actually like. Don’t you write any happy stories? Or ones without monsters, and aliens and… stuff?”
On hiatus until I recover the files for it, but will be completed.
My NaNoWriMo 2014 project.
In a world where those born with magic must register with the government, an angel walks into a bookshop and tells its owner to buy an old, barely-touched tome – or all those on the register will die.
A hundred miles away, a woman wakes up with a ring on her finger and no memory of the past year.
So begins a tale of traffic jams, idiotic younger brothers and how love in its many forms might just save us all.
(This will be uploaded to Strange Digestives in serialised form – one part a week – so that I can torture you all with suspense-filled cliffhangers. Also because I only have 42k of it written so far, and it’s probably going to end up novel-length.)
Supernatural-historical-crime-noir-tragicomedy (yes, really). Ideas for a comic that somehow turned into serial vignettes.
Melinda (for now), approx. 2000-year-old druidess but now detective in 1947 New York; Mary, her ex-waitress secretary, who isn’t as sweet as she seems; and List, her “fixer”, desk-clearer and professional partner – young, naive but doesn’t know it, slight never-to-be-fulfilled crush on Melinda.
Oh, and also war, a cast of thousands, dreamwalking, demons, and Melinda’s tangled history. Lots of it. Hence the name.
A rather big departure from ‘most everything else on Strange Digestives. It’s… (taking deep, terrified breath) teen fiction. For the first time since Still Life. It’s also a simple boy-meets-girl tale set in an Aberdeen coffee shop, written as a get-well gift for a friend.
Well, I say simple… She’s a mysterious girl dressed all in red; he’s a barista with a serious case of verbal diarrhoea; his brother keeps stealing all the black forest gateau before he can put it on the counter; and his best friend refuses to be called by his real name for fear of sounding like a butler. Click on the title to take a look.
A pastiche of Victorian horror, Lovecraft, steampunk, Arthur Conan Doyle, Brit stereotypes, the damsel in distress and coming-of-age movies.
Arthur Moorham, young constable that he is, just wants to impress his senior officer, Raylesleigh – a grumpy old veteran determined to be unimpressed. Partly by solving the recent spate of disappearances, all unexplained and unmotivated.
Then along comes an odd woman he knows only as Anne with a not-quite lethal umbrella and a centuries-old Beast who, impossibly, doesn’t like cups of tea.
Just another week at the office, then.
Progress is slow on this one, but it is progressing.