Ghoul is a dark and slightly comical modern horror tale. Well, it makes me smile, ha ha.

Ghoul is about a ghoul living in modern times. Despite being what people see as a monster, that is not the way that the ghoul sees himself. He thinks of himself as being somebody who has his own position in the food chain. He is like some carrion crow, living off the dead, making sure that nothing goes to waste. It is a life which the ghoul enjoys. But, of course, things are bound to go wrong, and disturb his peaceful life.

I have a lot of sympathy for the ghoul in this story. He is hard-working, and does no harm to anybody but the dead. Just because he eats people we think of him as a monster.

I really enjoyed writing this novel, although I have no intention of ever writing a sequel. Well, I enjoy all my writing, when things are going well. When they aren’t, I just pause what I am working on, and work on some different project instead.

I think that Ghoul must have gone well, as it took less than two months to write, from the first word to the last – and I was probably working on at least one other project at the time. I love it when the words tumble out so smoothly.

Extract from Ghoul

His long, thin, yellowish, bony fingers turned over a page of his ledger, where he kept records of all the people who he had buried, over the years. Mr Gould liked to keep details of those who had passed through his hands, whether into the ground, or elsewhere. His fingers checked the details, to make sure that he had entered them correctly. The skin on his hands was pale, almost yellow, and peppered with liver spots. For Mr Gould was old, but far older than any of his clients could possibly have guessed. He guessed that he was older than Mrs Patricia Bairstow, the stringy old bag. In fact, he knew that he had lived some three times as many years as she had. And he was still very much alive.

Old Mrs Bairstow had not had much meat on her, and it would have been far too tough and stringy for him to keep. She would be buried, rather than hung up in his larder, like the choicest cuts that came through his parlour. Besides, he still had some of that Jones boy in his freezer. That should see him over until the next bit of juicy steak came through his business.

He tried not to salivate at the thought of the meat in his freezer. Freezers were a wonderful thing, for they could keep meat fresh almost forever. Not that Mr Gould liked his meals too fresh. Sometimes he liked to leave his meat to hang a little, to ripen somewhat. You could not beat meat which was nice and soft, just on the verge of beginning to turn.

He smiled, his thin lips parting to reveal his yellowed teeth. His teeth were in very good condition, for his age. His thin limbs ached a bit, with the passing of the decades, but time could not be helped. Besides, he could not complain, for he had lived a very long time.

Mr Gould closed his ledger, and stood up, his frame being well over six feet tall, but with there being very little meat on his old bones, despite what his diet was. But there was not an ounce of fat – the meat that did decorate his bones was pure sinew. He was far stronger than he looked. But sometimes it was useful to appear to be nothing more than some weak, decrepit old man. People were less likely to suspect what he was, if he looked like some pathetic old human.

Ghoul is available as an e-book on the Amazon Kindle store.


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