The piano has seen better days. But the wood remembers the old tunes, remembers love and affection. Can Betty find her way back to happy times? Does the music still have its charms? Or are some things better off left quiet?The only thing Betty has left of her deceased husband is the old piano. It's not enough. But music has its ways, and when the piano starts to play on its own in an empty room, old memories are brought back all too clearly, memories of happier days, of love and sunshine.Betty needs to get those days back - but she is not the only one who remembers, and trying to bring back the past has unseen consequences.

There are towers, there in the dark under the yellow sin. Huge towers, where all your burdens are held, just waiting for you to be ready to face them. You have a sword, and your memory. Whether that is enough is up to you.

A new form of propulsion has the military excited. But why do they need an expert in ritual magic on board their new flagship spacecraft? And why do they need an exorcist? It is soon apparent they are meddling with forces they don't understand. But can they be controlled? A Lovecraftian short story.A new form of propulsion has the military excited. But why do they need an expert in ritual magic on board their new flagship spacecraft? And why do they need an exorcist? It is soon apparent they are meddling with forces they don't understand. But can they be controlled? A Lovecraftian short story.This is an old one, from about 1993, not long after I started out. It got reworked into an expanded novella THE PLASM for Dark Regions Press, but here it is in its original form. Think of it in black and white, 50s B movie style — that's how it runs in my head.

Four hundred years ago a Scottish cargo ship fell prey to a Wendigo at an early settlement on the Hudson River. Now a team of archaeologists have uncovered the boat, and let loose the evil.Soon Manhattan is hit by an ice storm like no other. Besides the wind and ice, there is something else moving in the storm. Blue, cold things, with razor sharp teeth.