Mark McLaughlin's Blog: Revenge of the B-Movie Monster - Posts Tagged "mythos"
New Book Out: BEST LITTLE WITCH-HOUSE IN ARKHAM
BEST LITTLE WITCH-HOUSE IN ARKHAM, my new collection of 25 Mythos-inspired tales, is now available.
Welcome to the Best Little Witch-House in Arkham. In this midnight den of dread and desire, you will find twenty-five rooms, each with a story of its own to tell. Here you will enjoy a delectable variety of otherworldly nightmares and blasphemies ... enough to satisfy even your most eldritch desires.
Here you will find evil pop-stars longing to devour their fans. You will meet a sophisticated secret agent in search of supernatural super-villains.
You will learn the vile secrets of Kugappa, the writhing octopus-god, and Ghattambah, a grotesque insect deity whose soul dwells beyond time.
You will smell the unhallowed stench of the Odour out of the Terrible Old Man. You will drink the creamy Milk of Time, an unholy substance which flows through the depths of a forbidden house of horrors known as Der Fleischbrunnen. You will even travel through deep space to a futuristic restaurant for alien connoisseurs, where you will sink your teeth into the monstrous specialty of the house.
You will find all of these horrors, and so much more ... in the Best Little Witch-House in Arkham.
Check out the book's cover here:
http://www.amazon.com/Best-Little-Wit...
Welcome to the Best Little Witch-House in Arkham. In this midnight den of dread and desire, you will find twenty-five rooms, each with a story of its own to tell. Here you will enjoy a delectable variety of otherworldly nightmares and blasphemies ... enough to satisfy even your most eldritch desires.
Here you will find evil pop-stars longing to devour their fans. You will meet a sophisticated secret agent in search of supernatural super-villains.
You will learn the vile secrets of Kugappa, the writhing octopus-god, and Ghattambah, a grotesque insect deity whose soul dwells beyond time.
You will smell the unhallowed stench of the Odour out of the Terrible Old Man. You will drink the creamy Milk of Time, an unholy substance which flows through the depths of a forbidden house of horrors known as Der Fleischbrunnen. You will even travel through deep space to a futuristic restaurant for alien connoisseurs, where you will sink your teeth into the monstrous specialty of the house.
You will find all of these horrors, and so much more ... in the Best Little Witch-House in Arkham.
Check out the book's cover here:
http://www.amazon.com/Best-Little-Wit...
Excerpts from Three Stories in BEST LITTLE WITCH-HOUSE IN ARKHAM
Excerpt No. 1 -- from the story, "The Embrace of Kugappa," one of the 25 horror tales in the Mythos-inspired collection, BEST LITTLE WITCH-HOUSE IN ARKHAM:
Jasper always knew when he was dreaming, and yet the realization never woke him up, like it did most people.
He dreamed that he was on the beach of an island with bone-white sand, and before him stretched a horizon of dark green sea.
Sinuous – vines? – stretched up out of the water, huge vines overgrown with many smaller vines, and all those vines held an abundance of small, squirming things.
One of the vines swirled up out of the water close to shore, and he saw that it wasn’t a vine after all – how silly, how stupid, vines didn’t grow in oceans. It was a huge tentacle, overgrown with smaller tentacles, and those had even smaller tentacles on them, and so on in a sort of bio-fractal progression.
He knew he should be afraid, but he wasn’t. Not really. Because.
Because they.
They wanted.
Wanted him to be happy. Yes, the Great Old Ones wanted him to be happy, and Kugappa was one of the Great Old Ones, and the best way to be happy was to be like them.
Be.
Like.
Them.
Who’d told him that? Who’d told him about the Great Old Ones? He giggled – the initials of that spelled ‘goo.’ Why, that was who had told him. The goo had told him.
Before he knew it he was swimming in the dark green sea, even though he didn't know how to swim, and tentacles and tentacles-upon-tentacles were handling him, exploring him, sliding into every part of him, even into his pores, infiltrating his cells, embracing his soul...
----------
Excerpt No. 2 -- from the story, "Squidd, Inc.":
Henderson snapped one day in the department head meeting and began speaking in tongues: "Ulala pizani! Y'kha Shub-Niggurath ghakala! Azagga pupago ma'azu!"
Henderson's seat is right under the huge chrome Squidd, Inc. logo mounted on the wall, and his outburst was more than a little blasphemous – an affront to our disciplined business world. Or so I thought. We all looked to bulbous-eyed Old Man Squidd, our flabby corporate pooh-bah, to watch the fireworks.
The Old Man sat up in his chair (a formidable task for one so huge) and said, "By God, Henderson, I like a man with Spunk."
———
Spunk. Spunk. Spunk with a capital S became our watchword, our password, our office shibboleth.
At that time, Squidd, Inc. specialized in the production and distribution of pharmaceuticals, with interests in medical equipment and biochemical research. I was Director of Sales, and I longed for Spunk like the cartoon coyote longs for roadrunner meat.
I'd been with the company for twenty years; my hair had turned grey and my skin had grown spotty in the service of Squidd. My chair at the meeting table was choice: only three seats down from the Old Man. But did the younger Directors have any respect for my years of experience? Sorry, no. Whenever they deigned to speak with me, their smug expressions told the story too well. They saw me as nothing more than a corporate leftover – a dried-up old piece of sushi.
I wasn't about to let the matter of Spunk, and my lack thereof, cripple my standing with the company. I prayed at my desk: Gods of Commerce, I need more than just daily bread. Lead me deep into temptation and give me a magnum of champagne, a midnight-blue BMW, a penthouse office, a stock portfolio to die for, and most of all, a generous helping of high-energy, high-octane, high-and-mighty Spunk....
----------
Excerpt No. 3 -- from the story, "Cthulhu Royale":
Part I. Her Majesty’s Secret Shoggoth
“Bondcraft,” said the tall, lean, dark-haired, lantern-jawed man in the tuxedo. Black, of course: a tuxedo of any other color was madness, a veritable mountain of madness. “H.P. Bondcraft.”
“Dash it all!” ejaculated W., the Minister of Arcane Defense, a balding, heavyset man. “I know your name! Why, we’ve known each other since we roomed together at the London Academy for Young Espionage Gentlemen.”
Miss Tuppenceworth, W.’s pretty blonde secretary, looked out the window of her office, which served as antechamber to her superior’s sanctum sanctorum. “Why is it that whenever H.P. shows up, the sky is suddenly filled with multi-colored silhouettes of shapely women flying about? One can see outlines of guns among the female forms, and hear music filled with saxophones and trumpets. And there’s this sort of swirly gun-barrel shifting to and fro... Decidedly odd.”
“Not at all,” W. said. “It’s that private club down the road – the Society for the Advancement of Musical, Gun-Collecting Lady Gymnasts. Their ostentatious laser lightshows happen to coincide with Bondcraft’s visits.”
Miss Tuppenceworth fluttered her lashes at the spy. “So you went to school with W.? What was he like as a young lad?”
H.P. puffed thoughtfully at his cheroot. “Though Z. is the Ministry’s resident expert on curious devices, W. also showed signs of great mechanical aptitude back then. I remember one summer, he bought one of those jolly vibrating massage chairs, and added parts from a milking machine and an automatic taffy-puller, and we took turns–”
“Now, now,” W. chided, “Miss Tuppenceworth doesn’t have time to stroll down memory lane.”
H.P. smiled. “Oh, and once, W. played the part of Juliet in our espionage school production of—”
“Come with me, Bondcraft!” W. led the spy into his office and then locked the door behind them. H.P. headed straight to the liquor cabinet, where he made himself a tequila sunrise. Swizzled, not agitated.
“Drinking on the job!” W. scolded. “And tuxedos, always tuxedos. Why? Explain yourself!”
“Why?” Bondcraft smirked. “Why not?”
“You’re a spy! You’re supposed to blend in with the common rabble.”
“Or so one would think!” H.P. drained his glass. “But because I’m usually a little drunk and stand out so, no enemy would ever suspect that I am in fact a secret agent. They’d be expecting someone sober and utterly nondescript.”
“I say! I never thought of it that way. Ingenious!” W. sat down behind his enormous mahogany desk, which was littered with stacks of papers and several anatomically correct primitive fetish dolls.
“So what’s new in the Ministry of Arcane Defense?” the spy asked.
“Some good news from our research base on Antarctica.” W. flashed a merry grin. “We’ve found and captured a shoggoth! All very hush-hush, of course – top secret! We’re still trying to figure out what to do with the blasted thing... It’s so big and squishy. It eats quite a lot ... it can change its shape ... perhaps the awful thing has some potential as a biological weapon.”
“You could always drop it on an enemy camp,” Bondcraft said, “and let it eat everybody.”
“Not a bad idea, but afterward, recapturing it would be a problem. Right now it’s very sluggish, since it’s down at that research base. The thing can’t move very fast in that frigid climate. If we let it loose in a warmer spot, we might never be able to pen it up again. We’re trying to figure out how to control the beast ... perhaps even communicate with it. Maybe we’ll find some more – the research chaps say Antarctica used to be crawling with them, back when it was less chilly down there. Anyway, let me tell you about your assignment.”
Bondcraft smiled. “Is there an international casino involved? And a sexy double-agent?”
“Silly boy,” W. said. “There’s always an international casino involved. Master-criminals cluster around those casinos like flies around a dead street urchin. And yes, naturally here’s a sexy double-agent. Vadda Fookenhottie.”
Bondcraft smirked. “Such language!”
W. rolled his eyes. “That’s her name: Vadda Fookenhottie. We have no pictures of her on file, but it wouldn’t matter anyway because she is a master of disguise. Or should I say mistress of disguise...? Anyway, in addition to Miss Fookenhottie, you will be dealing with – not one, not two, not four, but three arch-villains.”
H.P. allowed himself a small gasp. “Not ... the 3D Cult? Dagon’s Deadly Disciples...?”
----------
To find out what happens next in any of those stories, read BEST LITTLE WITCH-HOUSE IN ARKHAM. Available on Kindle or as a trade paperback.
A link to the e-book on Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Best-Little-Wit...
A link to the book's page here on GoodReads:
...Best Little Witch-House in Arkham
Jasper always knew when he was dreaming, and yet the realization never woke him up, like it did most people.
He dreamed that he was on the beach of an island with bone-white sand, and before him stretched a horizon of dark green sea.
Sinuous – vines? – stretched up out of the water, huge vines overgrown with many smaller vines, and all those vines held an abundance of small, squirming things.
One of the vines swirled up out of the water close to shore, and he saw that it wasn’t a vine after all – how silly, how stupid, vines didn’t grow in oceans. It was a huge tentacle, overgrown with smaller tentacles, and those had even smaller tentacles on them, and so on in a sort of bio-fractal progression.
He knew he should be afraid, but he wasn’t. Not really. Because.
Because they.
They wanted.
Wanted him to be happy. Yes, the Great Old Ones wanted him to be happy, and Kugappa was one of the Great Old Ones, and the best way to be happy was to be like them.
Be.
Like.
Them.
Who’d told him that? Who’d told him about the Great Old Ones? He giggled – the initials of that spelled ‘goo.’ Why, that was who had told him. The goo had told him.
Before he knew it he was swimming in the dark green sea, even though he didn't know how to swim, and tentacles and tentacles-upon-tentacles were handling him, exploring him, sliding into every part of him, even into his pores, infiltrating his cells, embracing his soul...
----------
Excerpt No. 2 -- from the story, "Squidd, Inc.":
Henderson snapped one day in the department head meeting and began speaking in tongues: "Ulala pizani! Y'kha Shub-Niggurath ghakala! Azagga pupago ma'azu!"
Henderson's seat is right under the huge chrome Squidd, Inc. logo mounted on the wall, and his outburst was more than a little blasphemous – an affront to our disciplined business world. Or so I thought. We all looked to bulbous-eyed Old Man Squidd, our flabby corporate pooh-bah, to watch the fireworks.
The Old Man sat up in his chair (a formidable task for one so huge) and said, "By God, Henderson, I like a man with Spunk."
———
Spunk. Spunk. Spunk with a capital S became our watchword, our password, our office shibboleth.
At that time, Squidd, Inc. specialized in the production and distribution of pharmaceuticals, with interests in medical equipment and biochemical research. I was Director of Sales, and I longed for Spunk like the cartoon coyote longs for roadrunner meat.
I'd been with the company for twenty years; my hair had turned grey and my skin had grown spotty in the service of Squidd. My chair at the meeting table was choice: only three seats down from the Old Man. But did the younger Directors have any respect for my years of experience? Sorry, no. Whenever they deigned to speak with me, their smug expressions told the story too well. They saw me as nothing more than a corporate leftover – a dried-up old piece of sushi.
I wasn't about to let the matter of Spunk, and my lack thereof, cripple my standing with the company. I prayed at my desk: Gods of Commerce, I need more than just daily bread. Lead me deep into temptation and give me a magnum of champagne, a midnight-blue BMW, a penthouse office, a stock portfolio to die for, and most of all, a generous helping of high-energy, high-octane, high-and-mighty Spunk....
----------
Excerpt No. 3 -- from the story, "Cthulhu Royale":
Part I. Her Majesty’s Secret Shoggoth
“Bondcraft,” said the tall, lean, dark-haired, lantern-jawed man in the tuxedo. Black, of course: a tuxedo of any other color was madness, a veritable mountain of madness. “H.P. Bondcraft.”
“Dash it all!” ejaculated W., the Minister of Arcane Defense, a balding, heavyset man. “I know your name! Why, we’ve known each other since we roomed together at the London Academy for Young Espionage Gentlemen.”
Miss Tuppenceworth, W.’s pretty blonde secretary, looked out the window of her office, which served as antechamber to her superior’s sanctum sanctorum. “Why is it that whenever H.P. shows up, the sky is suddenly filled with multi-colored silhouettes of shapely women flying about? One can see outlines of guns among the female forms, and hear music filled with saxophones and trumpets. And there’s this sort of swirly gun-barrel shifting to and fro... Decidedly odd.”
“Not at all,” W. said. “It’s that private club down the road – the Society for the Advancement of Musical, Gun-Collecting Lady Gymnasts. Their ostentatious laser lightshows happen to coincide with Bondcraft’s visits.”
Miss Tuppenceworth fluttered her lashes at the spy. “So you went to school with W.? What was he like as a young lad?”
H.P. puffed thoughtfully at his cheroot. “Though Z. is the Ministry’s resident expert on curious devices, W. also showed signs of great mechanical aptitude back then. I remember one summer, he bought one of those jolly vibrating massage chairs, and added parts from a milking machine and an automatic taffy-puller, and we took turns–”
“Now, now,” W. chided, “Miss Tuppenceworth doesn’t have time to stroll down memory lane.”
H.P. smiled. “Oh, and once, W. played the part of Juliet in our espionage school production of—”
“Come with me, Bondcraft!” W. led the spy into his office and then locked the door behind them. H.P. headed straight to the liquor cabinet, where he made himself a tequila sunrise. Swizzled, not agitated.
“Drinking on the job!” W. scolded. “And tuxedos, always tuxedos. Why? Explain yourself!”
“Why?” Bondcraft smirked. “Why not?”
“You’re a spy! You’re supposed to blend in with the common rabble.”
“Or so one would think!” H.P. drained his glass. “But because I’m usually a little drunk and stand out so, no enemy would ever suspect that I am in fact a secret agent. They’d be expecting someone sober and utterly nondescript.”
“I say! I never thought of it that way. Ingenious!” W. sat down behind his enormous mahogany desk, which was littered with stacks of papers and several anatomically correct primitive fetish dolls.
“So what’s new in the Ministry of Arcane Defense?” the spy asked.
“Some good news from our research base on Antarctica.” W. flashed a merry grin. “We’ve found and captured a shoggoth! All very hush-hush, of course – top secret! We’re still trying to figure out what to do with the blasted thing... It’s so big and squishy. It eats quite a lot ... it can change its shape ... perhaps the awful thing has some potential as a biological weapon.”
“You could always drop it on an enemy camp,” Bondcraft said, “and let it eat everybody.”
“Not a bad idea, but afterward, recapturing it would be a problem. Right now it’s very sluggish, since it’s down at that research base. The thing can’t move very fast in that frigid climate. If we let it loose in a warmer spot, we might never be able to pen it up again. We’re trying to figure out how to control the beast ... perhaps even communicate with it. Maybe we’ll find some more – the research chaps say Antarctica used to be crawling with them, back when it was less chilly down there. Anyway, let me tell you about your assignment.”
Bondcraft smiled. “Is there an international casino involved? And a sexy double-agent?”
“Silly boy,” W. said. “There’s always an international casino involved. Master-criminals cluster around those casinos like flies around a dead street urchin. And yes, naturally here’s a sexy double-agent. Vadda Fookenhottie.”
Bondcraft smirked. “Such language!”
W. rolled his eyes. “That’s her name: Vadda Fookenhottie. We have no pictures of her on file, but it wouldn’t matter anyway because she is a master of disguise. Or should I say mistress of disguise...? Anyway, in addition to Miss Fookenhottie, you will be dealing with – not one, not two, not four, but three arch-villains.”
H.P. allowed himself a small gasp. “Not ... the 3D Cult? Dagon’s Deadly Disciples...?”
----------
To find out what happens next in any of those stories, read BEST LITTLE WITCH-HOUSE IN ARKHAM. Available on Kindle or as a trade paperback.
A link to the e-book on Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Best-Little-Wit...
A link to the book's page here on GoodReads:
...Best Little Witch-House in Arkham
Five-Star Review of BEST LITTLE WITCH-HOUSE IN ARKHAM on Amazon.com
Five-star review by Bruce Blanchard of BEST LITTLE WITCH-HOUSE IN ARKHAM:
http://www.amazon.com/Best-Little-Wit...
The text of the review:
Back then, H.P. Lovecraft was plying his stories to the pulp market and centering their locale around the eldritch haunted town of Arkham, just another writer trying to make his fortune. He built up a following around some of the best writers in the horror business including the likes of Robert Bloch, Clark Ashton Smith, Robert E. Howard and many others who fashioned their stories around the Old Ones, those monstrous beings seeking to return and impart their own version of madness. He died and his stories almost died with him except for the devoted determined to keep alive the cult of Cthulhu, Nyarlethotep, the dreaded Necronomicon, and Arkham University. Today, almost every horror writer seeks to add his own story. Most of the stories are serious in writing about the Hounds of Hell, haunted witch houses, midnight rituals, and the mysterious inhabitants at Innsmouth. And now, let me present to you Mark McLaughlin's additions which promises, no lie!, to make you giggle, guffaw, and snort milk out your nose or which ever potable you're drinking. The humor in the book may see spurts out your ears. Isn't that an image?
Mr. McLaughlin's Best Little Witch-House is a collection of 25 stories taking what we have today, mixing in that little swirl of H.P. and coming up with the likes of Cthulhu Royale (Bond), Hound-Dog McGee (Scooby Doo), Tony Tar-Pit and Monkey-Face Joe (the Flintstones), When We Was Flab (the Beatles). You'll run across a wonderful place to stay, Pickman's Motel. Attend the healings at St. Toad's Medical Center (you've seen the commercials). Try this title on for size: The Slivering Quiver of the River Lizard's Twisted Liver-Blisters. I have nothing but Praise for the stories in this collection. These are stories mixed with the serious and take a left turn into the absurd. If it was possible, H.P. Lovecraft would be involuntarily giggling. Download this treasure. The stories don't run long. For the true fans of Lovecraft out there, The Best Little Witch-House is one bringing out your laughter. For those unacquainted with his works, check out the genre and get a good laugh yourself. You will not go wrong in downloading this book.
...Best Little Witch-House in Arkham
Available as a trade paperback and on Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Best-Little-Wit...
http://www.amazon.com/Best-Little-Wit...
The text of the review:
Back then, H.P. Lovecraft was plying his stories to the pulp market and centering their locale around the eldritch haunted town of Arkham, just another writer trying to make his fortune. He built up a following around some of the best writers in the horror business including the likes of Robert Bloch, Clark Ashton Smith, Robert E. Howard and many others who fashioned their stories around the Old Ones, those monstrous beings seeking to return and impart their own version of madness. He died and his stories almost died with him except for the devoted determined to keep alive the cult of Cthulhu, Nyarlethotep, the dreaded Necronomicon, and Arkham University. Today, almost every horror writer seeks to add his own story. Most of the stories are serious in writing about the Hounds of Hell, haunted witch houses, midnight rituals, and the mysterious inhabitants at Innsmouth. And now, let me present to you Mark McLaughlin's additions which promises, no lie!, to make you giggle, guffaw, and snort milk out your nose or which ever potable you're drinking. The humor in the book may see spurts out your ears. Isn't that an image?
Mr. McLaughlin's Best Little Witch-House is a collection of 25 stories taking what we have today, mixing in that little swirl of H.P. and coming up with the likes of Cthulhu Royale (Bond), Hound-Dog McGee (Scooby Doo), Tony Tar-Pit and Monkey-Face Joe (the Flintstones), When We Was Flab (the Beatles). You'll run across a wonderful place to stay, Pickman's Motel. Attend the healings at St. Toad's Medical Center (you've seen the commercials). Try this title on for size: The Slivering Quiver of the River Lizard's Twisted Liver-Blisters. I have nothing but Praise for the stories in this collection. These are stories mixed with the serious and take a left turn into the absurd. If it was possible, H.P. Lovecraft would be involuntarily giggling. Download this treasure. The stories don't run long. For the true fans of Lovecraft out there, The Best Little Witch-House is one bringing out your laughter. For those unacquainted with his works, check out the genre and get a good laugh yourself. You will not go wrong in downloading this book.
...Best Little Witch-House in ArkhamAvailable as a trade paperback and on Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Best-Little-Wit...
Take the Great H.P. Lovecraft Quiz!
I'm
Mark McLaughlin, author of the Mythos-inspired horror fiction collection,
Best Little Witch-House in Arkham.
How much do you know about the life and works of New England horror author H.P. Lovecraft? Take the Great H.P. Lovecraft Quiz and find out....
http://www.goodreads.com/quizzes/2848...
Mark McLaughlin, author of the Mythos-inspired horror fiction collection,
Best Little Witch-House in Arkham. How much do you know about the life and works of New England horror author H.P. Lovecraft? Take the Great H.P. Lovecraft Quiz and find out....
http://www.goodreads.com/quizzes/2848...
An Especially Eldritch Excerpt from BEST LITTLE WITCH-HOUSE IN ARKHAM
...Best Little Witch-House in ArkhamShe felt overhead – no boards or dirt. She was out of the tunnel. Suddenly she had a horrible thought. Had all her wandering led her right back into the mansion?
She stood up, dug out the lighter and flicked it on again. The small wavering flame cast writhing shadows.
She was now in a small cave with a floor of slick gray stone. To one side was a pool with long bones and chunks of raw meat floating in it. Odd, flat, wet things were moving through the pool and around its rim. They were what made that slithering sound. At first she couldn’t tell what they were. They appeared to be shiny blankets – some beige, some pink, some olive-brown – moving aimlessly like misshapen slugs.
One worked its way toward her and she saw it was coated with fine scales, and parts of it were fringed with hair ... some parts seemed to be shaped like stockings, and those ended in flattened, boneless toes.
She screamed when she realized that the sluglike creatures were in fact living skins....
-- An excerpt from "A Beauty Treatment for Mrs. Hamogeorgakis," one of the 25 horror tales in the Mythos-inspired collection, BEST LITTLE WITCH-HOUSE IN ARKHAM. Available on Kindle for just $2.99 (also available as a trade paperback). Just follow the link:
http://www.amazon.com/Best-Little-Wit...
The Abominations Of Nephren-Ka & Three More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos
Goodreads page:
The Abominations Of Nephren-Ka & Three More Tales Of The Cthulhu MythosThe Abominations Of Nephren-Ka & Three More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos
Kindle link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B015KCOYPE/
From the author of BEST LITTLE WITCH-HOUSE IN ARKHAM and the co-authors of CASINO CARCOSA come a quartet of Lovecraftian horror stories - THE ABOMINATIONS OF NEPHREN-KA & Three More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos by Mark McLaughlin and Michael Sheehan, Jr. Three of the stories are set in today's world and one takes place in ancient Egypt.
The modern stories feature forbidden secrets and eldritch beings from icy ocean depths and the ruthless abyss of space. The title tale, a prequel to H.P. Lovecraft's "The Haunter Of The Dark", tells of Nyarlathotep and is set in a distant time when the Shining Trapezohedron was known as the Eye of Yuggoth and evil Nephren-Ka, the Black Pharaoh, ruled the unspeakable City of Night. Discover new realms of madness in THE ABOMINATIONS OF NEPHREN-KA.
THE HORROR IN THE WATER TOWER & Five More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos
THE HORROR IN THE WATER TOWER & Five More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos by Mark McLaughlin & Michael Sheehan, Jr. FREE on Kindle Unlimited: www.amazon.com/dp/B01DIHNRRE/
GoodReads page: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2...
In THE HORROR IN THE WATER TOWER, McLaughlin and Sheehan present a half-dozen tales of eldritch horror, crawling with grotesque nightmare creatures. The collection features two follow-ups to H.P. Lovecraft's classic tale, "The Dreams In The Witch House," which explore the fate and supernatural legacy of Keziah Mason. In the collection's title story, you will discover an exotic monstrosity found in an ancient Peruvian temple and now dwelling, hidden in plain sight, in modern-day Innsmouth. You will also learn the secrets of the insect-god Ghattambah, a ravenous abomination that dwells beyond time and space. Mark McLaughlin is the author of MAGIC CANNOT DIE and BEST LITTLE WITCH-HOUSE IN ARKHAM, and Michael Sheehan, Jr. has co-authored THE ABOMINATIONS OF NEPHREN-KA, SHOGGOTH APOCALYPSE, THE BLASPHEMY IN THE CANOPIC JAR, THE RELIC IN THE EGYPTIAN GALLERY, and THE CREATURE IN THE WAXWORKS with McLaughlin.
New Release: THE BLASPHEMY IN THE CANOPIC JAR & More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos
The Blasphemy In The Canopic Jar
Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01M08J985
The Blasphemy In The Canopic Jar & More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos
THE BLASPHEMY IN THE CANOPIC JAR presents seven Lovecraftian tales from the authors of THE ABOMINATIONS OF NEPHREN-KA and THE HORROR IN THE WATER TOWER. In the title story, "The Blasphemy In The Canopic Jar," a collector of antiquities encounters a ghastly, deformed monstrosity spawned in the days of ancient Egypt. Three more adventures tell of worshippers of Nyarlathotep and their secret activities in the modern world. The collection includes a tale of the insect-god Ghattambah, set in the toxic ruins of the distant future, as well as two stories of "The King In Yellow," a forbidden book that offers only madness and death to those who read it. Forbidden worlds of the bizarre await you in THE BLASPHEMY IN THE CANOPIC JAR.
Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01M08J985
The Blasphemy In The Canopic Jar & More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos THE BLASPHEMY IN THE CANOPIC JAR presents seven Lovecraftian tales from the authors of THE ABOMINATIONS OF NEPHREN-KA and THE HORROR IN THE WATER TOWER. In the title story, "The Blasphemy In The Canopic Jar," a collector of antiquities encounters a ghastly, deformed monstrosity spawned in the days of ancient Egypt. Three more adventures tell of worshippers of Nyarlathotep and their secret activities in the modern world. The collection includes a tale of the insect-god Ghattambah, set in the toxic ruins of the distant future, as well as two stories of "The King In Yellow," a forbidden book that offers only madness and death to those who read it. Forbidden worlds of the bizarre await you in THE BLASPHEMY IN THE CANOPIC JAR.
Shoggoth Apocalypse & More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos
GoodReads page: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/3...
SHOGGOTH APOCALYPSE & More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos by Mark McLaughlin & Michael Sheehan, Jr. FREE on Kindle Unlimited:
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N6VSKKW/
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01N6VSKKW/
SHOGGOTH APOCALYPSE presents Lovecraftian tales of the grotesque, teeming with eldritch monstrosities. The title tale reveals the ultimate destiny of the shoggoths, protoplasmic creatures with an insatiable hunger for raw flesh. In "The Curse Of The Tillinghasts," a sequel to Lovecraft's "From Beyond," a high-tech corporation strives to revive the accursed invention of Crawford Tillinghast. "In The Chapel Of Ghattambah" unveils a web of treachery, spun by the disciples of a ghastly insect-god. "This Pulsing Mass That Serves As My Heart" tells of an office romance that turns into a ghoulish encounter with an ancient horror. In the days of the Pharaohs, mummified worshippers of Azathoth go on a savage rampage against the living in "The Colossus In The Catacombs." Mark McLaughlin is the author of BEST LITTLE WITCH-HOUSE IN ARKHAM, and Michael Sheehan, Jr. co-authored THE ABOMINATIONS OF NEPHREN-KA, THE HORROR IN THE WATER TOWER, THE BLASPHEMY IN THE CANOPIC JAR, and THE RELIC IN THE EGYPTIAN GALLERY with McLaughlin.
Cthulhu Mythos Kindle Collections
CTHULHU MYTHOS KINDLE COLLECTIONS by Mark McLaughlin & Michael Sheehan, Jr. (also available via Kindle Unlimited):
THE ABOMINATIONS OF NEPHREN-KA & Three More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B015KCOYPE/
THE HORROR IN THE WATER TOWER & Five More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01DIHNRRE/
THE BLASPHEMY IN THE CANOPIC JAR & More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01M08J985
SHOGGOTH APOCALYPSE & More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N6VSKKW/
THE RELIC IN THE EGYPTIAN GALLERY & More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071KK5B5Q/
Revenge of the B-Movie Monster
Welcome to the GoodReads.com blog of author MARK McLAUGHLIN.
MARK McLAUGHLIN is a Bram Stoker Award-winning author of fiction, nonfiction, poetry and more. Many of his books fit within the literary tra ...more
MARK McLAUGHLIN is a Bram Stoker Award-winning author of fiction, nonfiction, poetry and more. Many of his books fit within the literary tra ...more
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