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The Mechanical LondonIn the winter of 1889, London was a city of two layers. The surface was gaslight and cobblestone, horse carriages and chimney smoke, the respectable bustle of a capital that ruled a quarter of the globe. Beneath that surface was another city entirely — a labyrinth of tunnels and cellars and forgotten places where men worked in green light and built things that had no business existing. Arthur...0 Commentarios 0 Acciones 11 Views 0 Vista previa
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The Numbers of BrooklynI Marcus Chen was twenty-five and tired. Not sleepy-tired. Life-tired. The kind of tired that comes from working twelve-hour days at a delivery company and coming home to a studio apartment in Sunset Park that smelled like the previous tenant's cooking, which was Vietnamese because Marcus was Vietnamese and he couldn't afford to clean it out. He lived with his sister Eileen, who was thirty-one...0 Commentarios 0 Acciones 33 Views 0 Vista previa
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The Ghost of Blackmoor ManorI. If anyone still remembers me, perhaps this will serve as proof that I existed. The handwriting at the bottom of this page is mine—Arthur Blackwood, though the name is becoming less and less certain, even to me. It began in the chapel at Blackmoor Manor, on a Tuesday in October of 1887. I was sorting through my grandmother's papers when I found it—a leather-bound journal tucked behind a loose...0 Commentarios 0 Acciones 28 Views 0 Vista previa
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The Signature of ManhattanThe first time Leo Santos noticed something wrong with signatures, he was picking up coffee cups from the floor of the executive suite on the forty-second floor. A letterhead lay face down beneath a stack of newspapers, and someone had signed it with a fountain pen that had bled through the page. Leo looked at the name at the bottom of the letter and knew, without knowing how he knew, that the...0 Commentarios 0 Acciones 32 Views 0 Vista previa
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The Lightbringer's QuestI. The factory whistle blew at five, and the tenements of Manhattan exhaled their thousands in a rush of buttons and shoelaces and the quick mathematics of getting to a paycheck before the foreman decided you were late again. Thomas Cassidy walked with his head down, as was his custom, but not for the reasons other men did. Most men kept their eyes on the pavement because they had nothing to...0 Commentarios 0 Acciones 28 Views 0 Vista previa
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THE MIRROR IN THE BASEMENTACT I: THE WINDOWLESS ROOM Lord Alistair Finch-Worthingham inherited Blackwood Park on a Tuesday in November, which seemed appropriate: Tuesdays were the kind of days on which serious things happened—inheritances, deaths, the slow realization that one's life has been a performance for an audience that stopped watching years ago. The house was exactly as one might expect a country house named...0 Commentarios 0 Acciones 22 Views 0 Vista previa
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Echoes of the StageThe disc sat on Jasper Thornton's desk like something alive, humming faintly with the memory of a sound that had not yet been born. He had found it three days ago, in the attic of his grandfather's house, wrapped in oilcloth and tucked into a box labeled "Jasper's Things" in handwriting that was unmistakably his grandfather's. The disc itself was unlike anything Jasper had ever seen—thick,...0 Commentarios 0 Acciones 51 Views 0 Vista previa
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The Hollow AfterI Los Angeles, 1947. The rain was falling in sheets, the kind of rain that made the city look like a black-and-white movie. Jack Morrow sat in his apartment on the edge of Hollywood, watching it streak the window, a .38 revolver in his coat pocket and a name on a piece of paper in his hand. Frank. Frank whatever. Worked at a garage. That was all he had. Five years of searching had given him...0 Commentarios 0 Acciones 54 Views 0 Vista previa
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Going South, Going NorthACT I: THE ROUTE Carl Henderson had been driving Route 30 for twenty-three years. He knew every mile between Pittsburgh and Philly. He knew which towns had good gas stations and which had toilets that didn't smell like death. He knew the diner in Reading where the coffee was hot and the pie was okay and the waitress named Marge knew exactly how he liked his coffee—black, two sugars, in a...0 Commentarios 0 Acciones 27 Views 0 Vista previa
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