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A Ghost Story Omnibus Volume Three
A collection of six new ghost stories woven from the fabric of England’s dark dreaming.
The Orangery
Wooed by a Georgian gentleman of taste, a young bride-to-be finds that all is not as it appears at her fiancé’s elegant Gaddesbury estate. There is a whiff of corruption at its heart which, for all his acid wit and fashionable acquaintance, grows ever stronger, until . . .
Her Master’s Call
Temesforde. Such a peaceful Shropshire parish. And yet, what a pity about the vicar. What did he know? How could he have known? The Reverend Ruth More knows nothing of it when she arrives to start life afresh. And then she meets a charming visiting academic, whose charms run far deeper than she could possibly have thought.
Nequid Pereat
There is that that we wish to remember, and that which we wish to forget. And as for the consequences of our actions, well, they can so often be unforeseen; promises can be fragile things. As for Henry Tillotson, his war was over; he thought that the hell of the trenches was behind him. And yet, one Remembrance Sunday, a certain doubt began to creep in, and the shadows began to take more tangible form.
The Fell Walker
The fells can be unpredictable. The weather can change in an instant. Even on a clear day, you may find yourself of a sudden enveloped in mist and fog. And so it was for a particular taciturn Yorkshireman, who found himself alone on Carrock Fell, until he happened upon two strangers lost in the murk. Eccentrics?
Bladud
What elegant wonders do we see sprout from the fecund soil of our very own Bath! The New Assembly Rooms - are they not a fashionable marvel? Indeed, I see that you are as entranced by such elegance as I, and so you are to be commended for your taste. But as for that poor architect . . . you wish me to say something of him? You have heard his name, have you not? I am afraid that it escapes me now. But as for the rumours – egad! Are they not fantastical? Morbid? Can they truly be believed? And yet, I have it on good authority that he found something there, pulled from the earth by the common labourers. Better that they should have put it back, it seems. But it is too late now.
Cold in Alabaster
‘Make it a true likeness of my young Lady Matlowe. See to it that you capture her youth.’ And so comes a master mason to an isolated Derbyshire parish. Cold, and wet, it is far from to his liking, unlike the subject of his latest commission. And yet, hesitancy for once stills his hand. Could it be that he serves not Lord Matlowe alone?
The Orangery
Wooed by a Georgian gentleman of taste, a young bride-to-be finds that all is not as it appears at her fiancé’s elegant Gaddesbury estate. There is a whiff of corruption at its heart which, for all his acid wit and fashionable acquaintance, grows ever stronger, until . . .
Her Master’s Call
Temesforde. Such a peaceful Shropshire parish. And yet, what a pity about the vicar. What did he know? How could he have known? The Reverend Ruth More knows nothing of it when she arrives to start life afresh. And then she meets a charming visiting academic, whose charms run far deeper than she could possibly have thought.
Nequid Pereat
There is that that we wish to remember, and that which we wish to forget. And as for the consequences of our actions, well, they can so often be unforeseen; promises can be fragile things. As for Henry Tillotson, his war was over; he thought that the hell of the trenches was behind him. And yet, one Remembrance Sunday, a certain doubt began to creep in, and the shadows began to take more tangible form.
The Fell Walker
The fells can be unpredictable. The weather can change in an instant. Even on a clear day, you may find yourself of a sudden enveloped in mist and fog. And so it was for a particular taciturn Yorkshireman, who found himself alone on Carrock Fell, until he happened upon two strangers lost in the murk. Eccentrics?
Bladud
What elegant wonders do we see sprout from the fecund soil of our very own Bath! The New Assembly Rooms - are they not a fashionable marvel? Indeed, I see that you are as entranced by such elegance as I, and so you are to be commended for your taste. But as for that poor architect . . . you wish me to say something of him? You have heard his name, have you not? I am afraid that it escapes me now. But as for the rumours – egad! Are they not fantastical? Morbid? Can they truly be believed? And yet, I have it on good authority that he found something there, pulled from the earth by the common labourers. Better that they should have put it back, it seems. But it is too late now.
Cold in Alabaster
‘Make it a true likeness of my young Lady Matlowe. See to it that you capture her youth.’ And so comes a master mason to an isolated Derbyshire parish. Cold, and wet, it is far from to his liking, unlike the subject of his latest commission. And yet, hesitancy for once stills his hand. Could it be that he serves not Lord Matlowe alone?
247 pages, Kindle Edition
Published October 17, 2022
5 people are currently reading
About the author
H.E. Bulstrode
40 books31 followersThe author's childhood and formative years were spent in the English West Country, a region in which reality and fantasy are frequently confused, and where what elsewhere would be taken as peculiar, regarded as nothing more than an everyday occurrence. Soaked in myth, folklore and cider, his imagination eventually whirred into life and prompted him to pen, or at least type, a number of understated tales of the uncanny, drawing upon his wry observations of esoteric subcultures and beliefs, and the rich store of lore that seems locked into the land itself.
From the mist, the frost, and the wind, comes something ambling through the murk, seeking to ensnare the unwary: a village cunning man; a malignant Jacobean mannequin; a psychedelic Crowley wannabe; the sickle-wielding spirit of old Dorset; a pious guide who emerges from the fabric of a venerable minster; a mediaeval animalistic heretic with a still beating heart. Ghost stories, bizarre rites, and mental disintegration populate a world in which the living and the dead meet in an eternal present, and the author dares - the most horrific thing of all - to use adverbs where appropriate.
His tales have frequently been compared to the likes of those encountered in Tales of the Unexpected and The Twilight Zone, but the Bulstrodian world, as you will discover, is a realm unto itself, and quite distinct from either.
He is currently working on a number of future publications, including a 1970s ghost story set in the Somerset Levels, a novel set in 17th-century Cornwall in which the reader will encounter a heady mix of superstition, piracy and religious fanaticism, and a third anthology of supernatural fiction.
From the mist, the frost, and the wind, comes something ambling through the murk, seeking to ensnare the unwary: a village cunning man; a malignant Jacobean mannequin; a psychedelic Crowley wannabe; the sickle-wielding spirit of old Dorset; a pious guide who emerges from the fabric of a venerable minster; a mediaeval animalistic heretic with a still beating heart. Ghost stories, bizarre rites, and mental disintegration populate a world in which the living and the dead meet in an eternal present, and the author dares - the most horrific thing of all - to use adverbs where appropriate.
His tales have frequently been compared to the likes of those encountered in Tales of the Unexpected and The Twilight Zone, but the Bulstrodian world, as you will discover, is a realm unto itself, and quite distinct from either.
He is currently working on a number of future publications, including a 1970s ghost story set in the Somerset Levels, a novel set in 17th-century Cornwall in which the reader will encounter a heady mix of superstition, piracy and religious fanaticism, and a third anthology of supernatural fiction.
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