The paperback version of Prophecies of the Drowned Oracle is now available on Amazon! Which means for €8,52 you can now hold these 25 stories in your hands and feel the weight of them and everything. It's great!
Ebook release announcement!
A crime of passion forces an aspiring mob boss to seek the council of oracles and prophecies. A zombie victim believes sheer willpower will overpower the virus rapidly taking over her mind. A pair of neighbours deal with a fly infestation that can’t be natural. A woman finds a dear friend in the AI controlling the mysterious fake company that just hired her. A diver encounters a corpse that’s much fresher than it should be.
Prophecies of the Drowned Oracle is a short story collection about magic and other mysterious hidden things. 25 stories of horror, humour and love.
Spirits, death, nature, dreams and nightmares. If you enjoy a bit of magical mystery, this is the collection for you.
Stories from the countryside, presented by Derek Nacre.
A woman tells Derek about the vanishing ghost castle near the German border.
Tiffany starts her new job at a shady company and meets the Artificial Intelligence in charge of the office. Not finding a connection with her human coworkers, she forms a bond with the AI instead.
Someone is following Yvonne. It's only when she hides in a library that she learns why.
From behind her came the light whoosh of the door opening. She turned, breath catching. She hadn’t gotten a good look before, but this had to be her, her stalker. Tall, heavy and with straight black hair slicked back from her face, she stood like a sentry before the door. “Yvonne,” she said, “you have fifteen years worth of library fines. Time to pay up.”
When the Drowned Oracle confirmed the death of Captain Agustin, the winter ended.
Behind you, the workers shuffled, rubber soles shifting on rough concrete. You pressed your lips together. “What am I supposed to be helping with?” you asked, glancing behind you.
“Manpower,” a burly worker said, joining you at the front. “We need more people.”
You eyed the big shelves of metal, parts moving automatically, pushing crates around, carrying them where they needed to be. “In a place where everything runs by itself?”
Something rumbled in the distance. Wheels, maybe, or gears. A loud whistle from the same direction. The workers jumped, and three sprinted there with nervous, even fearful expressions. Their steps echoed on the cement floor long after they vanished from view.
The sun was at it’s peak, so high above her she nearly cast no shadow at all. And when the clock-tower struck the 13th hour, even that little shadow fell away.
In the following weeks, the fridge demon didn’t go away. He was almost seventy percent sure it was real. Albion avoided the fridge like the plague, and the things he kicked under there really did seem to vanish.
Then again, he couldn’t be certain.
Demons and monsters were not exactly rare, but they weren’t common either. By comparison, Teague’s hallucinations were much more common.
Harry is a dementor, and has been for a few years. Now the only question we can reasonably ask in this situation: Are dementors allowed at Hogwarts?
“Not traditionally no,” Dumbledore says, “But I’m sure we can figure something out.”