There's a few new stories by me out in print and e-print by now. First the free stuff: ROSTHERNE: A TALE OF GHOST HUNTING appears in WONDERLUST #8. A young couple maintain their annual Hallowe'en vigil at a ruined priory where a tale of forbidden love once played out. Long-time PVB readers may recognise this story since it's first draft appeared here around eight or nine years ago. The folks at Planetary Stories came across it archived on my website and asked if they could use it. I smartened it up a bit and said yes. You can download it as a .pdf file at Planetary Stories: Rostherne Moral of this story: folks read the stuff here. Even publishers.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“What would you do if we saw them, Harry?”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“What? What do you mean?”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well, suppose we’re sitting here, and suddenly a transparent brown shape comes floating down the aisle there…”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Most ghosts aren’t transparent. That’s a popular fallacy. Many people don’t even realise it’s a ghost they’re seeing until…”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Okay, okay. A solid brown monk comes clomping down the aisle there. What happens then? I mean would you talk to it, follow it, try to exorcise it, what?” Next up is THE TULPA, a brand new horror tale based on a late-night story I once told to my son and his sleep-over buddies to leave them bed-wettingly scared. Hey, they asked for a ghost story! It's traditional. Some of those kids haven't been back since. This free .pdf version, also put out by Planetary Tales, is the adult write-up of that story, and it contains sex and violence. I wrote it more or less in one sitting over one feverish insomniac night. You can read it at your own peril by downloading from Planetary Stories: The Tulpa “Sometimes it happens that a tulpa turns sour. Very rarely a Meh-Teh slips too far into being and rampages across the mountains, stealing livestock or even children, raping women, doing terrible things. Mi-go, the local people call them then, wild men. Then we must focus our efforts on uncreating the creature, disassembling it so it is no more and cannot return, pushing it back into the void from which it was first drawn.” And if you're behind the times you might not yet have read ROBIN HOOD AND THE SLAVERS OF WHITBY, a short story in the same continuity as my Robin Hood novel trilogy. Book three of that series is scheduled to be out before Christmas (publisher willing) but this stand-alone tale features the same cast dealing with a wrong brought to their attention by Robin's other girlfriend, Clorinda, Queen of Shepherdesses. Free download of this .pdf at Pulp Spirit: Robin Hood & the Slavers of Whitby     The craft was closing fast. It had more sail and the wind was behind it.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Lift t’sheet and make for land, lads!” the master-fisher called. He sounded tense but he kept his head. “Break out oars an’ all.” He looked worriedly at the two women at the stern, imagining their fate at the pirates’ hands.     The two ladies seemed unconcerned. Marion reached under the rear bench and brought out two long cloth-wrapped bundles. She passed them to Robin and Clorinda, who unwrapped them to reveal English longbows. The chest contained no treasure but broadheaded arrows.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“What’s this?” demanded the master-fisher. “Tha can’t fight! That’s a war-ship. There’ll be a score of men wi’ bows on board.”      “Perhaps,” said Robin Hood, stringing his weapon. “They’ve got men and bows. We’ve got an archer.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Two,” Clorinda corrected him, preparing her own yew-bow. “Or have you forgotten those Scots raiders we took down in our reckless youth?”      “Wait,” said Marion. “I thought this was his reckless youth?”     The warship hove closer, cutting across the fishing smack’s course, stealing its wind. “They’re gonna catch us!” the master-fisher warned.      “I hope so,” replied Robin Hood. “I really want to talk to them.” When the ship was two hundred yards distant he drew his bow and loosed his first red-fletched arrow. Finally, currently trending on Amazon (or surfing, or yomping, or whatever it is things do on their sales lists) is BLOOD-PRICE OF THE MISSIONARY'S GOLD, THE NEW ADVENTURES OF ARMLESS O'NEIL. Yes, I know the title is virtually book-length itself. Armless O'Neil was a pulp character who appeared in a bunch of two-fisted stories in the magazines of the 40s. Well, one-fisted anyway, since he got his name from the hook that replaced his left hand. In the spirit of Bogart in "African Queen", O'Neil had adventures in the Dark Continent. He could hardly move without tripping over a treasure map, lost civilisation, ruthless mining operation, or jungle curse. Pro-Se Press has begun a line under the brand-name of Pulp Obscura to produce volumes of new stories for these old characters. Each volume coincides with a republication of some of the original works from Altus Press. I've previous contributed "The Hostage Academy" to The New Adventures of Richard Knight Volume 1. This time I got to write the title story of the anthology, "Blood Price of the Missionary's Gold". O'Neil must save a beautiful missionary's daughter from the marauders who hunt both her and a fortune in lost blood-gold - and the vital clue is a recipe for monkey stew!     The Major-general made a mocking bow. “I am L’Evesque, master of the West African Free Brigade, a soldier. You are my property, and soon my whore. These people are nothing, and soon dead.”     Sophie blanched. “You are just six men. My father has worked here for many years. We have a lot of friends. If you harm me or these people do you imagine you can escape the Ubangi alive?”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“We are not six. We are many. My present force is but a vanguard. After all, I expect to need a lot of manpower when we retrieve the missionary’s gold.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“I told you. There is no gold. We barely have the supplies we need to look after all these sick and wounded. We rely on the charity of the mining stations and on donations from home. Whatever you think you have come for, it is not here.”     L’Evesque shook his head. “I think it is. And I think that your absent father will be more than ready to give it to me to save the life of his beautiful daughter, is it not so?” The Frenchman leered. “Your life he can save. Nothing else.”     Sophie could have stayed safe hidden in the big thicket where the orderlies had bundled her – but then these soldiers would have begun to kill the staff and patients at the mission camp. What choice had she but to divert the soldiers’ malice to herself? “Evil comes to he that does evil,” she warned.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“In my experience, chère, evil comes to those who don’t have the most men and guns. Here, far from civilization, far from all help, nobody has more men and guns than me. There is nothing I cannot do and no-one who can stop me from taking what I please.”     Sophie stood at bay, surrounded by soldiers.     A single gunshot echoed across the clearing. L’Evesque’s men swung their machine guns round, searching for the danger.     Armless O’Neil strode out of the forest. “Yeah. I think you’ll find there’s me to stop you, Frenchie,” the big adventurer declared. ISBN-10: 1477651306 ISBN-13: 978-1477651308 Release date: June 2012 Published by Pro Se Publications' Pulp Obscura imprint Purchase from Pro Se here Retail Price: $12.00 $2.99 e-version also available at Smashwords All the other stuff is listed at http://www.chillwater.org.uk/writing/iawatsonhome.htm. Proceed.