A dead sorcerer, clutching a human heart. A pissed-off demon, trapped in a magic circle. Sort that out.
The demon looks like it can’t get free, but it’s still as scary as hell and all I want to do is turn and run. As it shifts and tumbles, I glimpse scrabbling talons and razor-sharp teeth. So far, it hasn’t made a sound. But now it stops moving, two pairs of red eyes appear from the chaos and fix on me, and I hear— ‘Oh, so it’s you, is it?’
Normally, forensic sorcerer Frank Sampson can handle shit like this with both thumbs up his nose. This time, however, things aren’t going according to plan...
Donald Hounam grew up just outside Oxford. He toyed with Medieval history at St Andrews University, and wrote a PhD thesis on apocalyptic beliefs in the early Crusades.
He threw paint around at the Ruskin School of Drawing in Oxford, then found himself in Dublin where he threw more paint around and reviewed films until his flatmate set the building alight one Christmas, whereupon he scuttled back to England and started making up stories...