Monsters & Maw Patreon returns 21st October, with a Dullahan story in time for Halloween!

Extract:

A mist on Samhain night coiled its curious fingers through the hawthorn hedgerows and carded the bone-pale grasses along the verge with gentle, sighing caresses. At the fulcrum of the year, when the last warmth of summer had truly faded, and the biting maw of winter had yet to show its teeth, you came truly alive for a precious few weeks.

You sighed around a smile, softly sweeping the birch bristles of the broom back and forth across the flagstone that marked the entrance to your cottage, and hoped to sweep away the bad luck that seemed to have gathered like choking dust in all the corners of your life that year. You were ready for the restorative stillness that winter would bring, but you weren’t quite ready to let go of the bounty of a rich autumn either.

That afternoon, you’d set your carved Jack o’ Lantern grinning on the step, and you’d given your private remembrances to the recently departed. You’d walked sunwise round your house with a bough of smouldering fir to cleanse the space with smoke, and you’d offered firewood from your stores to the village boys who’d trekked all the way out to your lonely cottage to make sure that your hearth was included in the communal bonfire. In the morning, you would go down to the smouldering embers on the village green and light your own torch to bind your hearth to the rest of the community, but for the moment, you were alone on the edge of things.

Now, as the tiny crescent of moon sailed out from behind the bare, silhouetted branches of the old copse of ash and oak behind the drystone wall, you leaned a moment on the wooden gate at the end of the garden path, and tilted your face to its frail, faltering light.

Your breath made ghosts dance in the air, and as you rested there and smelled the last of the mint in the garden beside you, the sound of hoofbeats on the road disturbed the dark and the quiet of the night.

It was far too late for any of the villagers to be venturing up the road now. Travellers were rare on Samhain night, and yet a horse was approaching at a steady, measured walk, and eventually, the hazy outline of a rider on a huge, ragged mount melted from the mist.

Your heart leapt to your throat and you stepped back, trying not to trip or stumble or bolt to your house for fear of insulting the rider. This was no human being sitting astride that monstrous horse with its rolling red eyes.

For one, the rider had no head.

“Dullahan,” you breathed before you could stop yourself, and you felt their attention sharpen onto you. You bit back a hissing curse at your stupidity just in time and stood your ground. There was an iron horseshoe above your door, and you wondered if that would be enough to protect you from this Unseelie Fae.

The horse’s hooves slowed and it tossed its head, snorting and blowing steam in the cold night, and the rider turned to regard you with a head that wasn’t there.

---

You will be able to read the whole story on the 'Little Ghosties' tier of Patreon from 21st October 2023!

I hope to see you there for more like this, and if you want to know a little more about it, here's the post I made to let folks know about my Patreon coming back!

You can read it right here!

Content: male dullahan, feisty horse with Opinions™, gender neutral reader, some threat to life, capture, non-detailed mention of rough interrogation (none from love interest), and some non-penetrative sex to finish :) Wordcount: 9767

(Patreon is now live after a small technical hitch)

Monsters & Maw Patreon returns 21st October, with a Dullahan story in time for Halloween!

Extract:

A mist on Samhain night coiled its curious fingers through the hawthorn hedgerows and carded the bone-pale grasses along the verge with gentle, sighing caresses. At the fulcrum of the year, when the last warmth of summer had truly faded, and the biting maw of winter had yet to show its teeth, you came truly alive for a precious few weeks.

You sighed around a smile, softly sweeping the birch bristles of the broom back and forth across the flagstone that marked the entrance to your cottage, and hoped to sweep away the bad luck that seemed to have gathered like choking dust in all the corners of your life that year. You were ready for the restorative stillness that winter would bring, but you weren’t quite ready to let go of the bounty of a rich autumn either.

That afternoon, you’d set your carved Jack o’ Lantern grinning on the step, and you’d given your private remembrances to the recently departed. You’d walked sunwise round your house with a bough of smouldering fir to cleanse the space with smoke, and you’d offered firewood from your stores to the village boys who’d trekked all the way out to your lonely cottage to make sure that your hearth was included in the communal bonfire. In the morning, you would go down to the smouldering embers on the village green and light your own torch to bind your hearth to the rest of the community, but for the moment, you were alone on the edge of things.

Now, as the tiny crescent of moon sailed out from behind the bare, silhouetted branches of the old copse of ash and oak behind the drystone wall, you leaned a moment on the wooden gate at the end of the garden path, and tilted your face to its frail, faltering light.

Your breath made ghosts dance in the air, and as you rested there and smelled the last of the mint in the garden beside you, the sound of hoofbeats on the road disturbed the dark and the quiet of the night.

It was far too late for any of the villagers to be venturing up the road now. Travellers were rare on Samhain night, and yet a horse was approaching at a steady, measured walk, and eventually, the hazy outline of a rider on a huge, ragged mount melted from the mist.

Your heart leapt to your throat and you stepped back, trying not to trip or stumble or bolt to your house for fear of insulting the rider. This was no human being sitting astride that monstrous horse with its rolling red eyes.

For one, the rider had no head.

“Dullahan,” you breathed before you could stop yourself, and you felt their attention sharpen onto you. You bit back a hissing curse at your stupidity just in time and stood your ground. There was an iron horseshoe above your door, and you wondered if that would be enough to protect you from this Unseelie Fae.

The horse’s hooves slowed and it tossed its head, snorting and blowing steam in the cold night, and the rider turned to regard you with a head that wasn’t there.

---

You will be able to read the whole story on the 'Little Ghosties' tier of Patreon from 21st October 2023!

I hope to see you there for more like this, and if you want to know a little more about it, here's the post I made to let folks know about my Patreon coming back!

You can read it right here!

Content: male dullahan, feisty horse with Opinions™, gender neutral reader, some threat to life, capture, non-detailed mention of rough interrogation (none from love interest), and some non-penetrative sex to finish :) Wordcount: 9767

(Patreon is now live after a small technical hitch)

Monsters & Maw Patreon returns 21st October, with a Dullahan story in time for Halloween!

Extract:

A mist on Samhain night coiled its curious fingers through the hawthorn hedgerows and carded the bone-pale grasses along the verge with gentle, sighing caresses. At the fulcrum of the year, when the last warmth of summer had truly faded, and the biting maw of winter had yet to show its teeth, you came truly alive for a precious few weeks.

You sighed around a smile, softly sweeping the birch bristles of the broom back and forth across the flagstone that marked the entrance to your cottage, and hoped to sweep away the bad luck that seemed to have gathered like choking dust in all the corners of your life that year. You were ready for the restorative stillness that winter would bring, but you weren’t quite ready to let go of the bounty of a rich autumn either.

That afternoon, you’d set your carved Jack o’ Lantern grinning on the step, and you’d given your private remembrances to the recently departed. You’d walked sunwise round your house with a bough of smouldering fir to cleanse the space with smoke, and you’d offered firewood from your stores to the village boys who’d trekked all the way out to your lonely cottage to make sure that your hearth was included in the communal bonfire. In the morning, you would go down to the smouldering embers on the village green and light your own torch to bind your hearth to the rest of the community, but for the moment, you were alone on the edge of things.

Now, as the tiny crescent of moon sailed out from behind the bare, silhouetted branches of the old copse of ash and oak behind the drystone wall, you leaned a moment on the wooden gate at the end of the garden path, and tilted your face to its frail, faltering light.

Your breath made ghosts dance in the air, and as you rested there and smelled the last of the mint in the garden beside you, the sound of hoofbeats on the road disturbed the dark and the quiet of the night.

It was far too late for any of the villagers to be venturing up the road now. Travellers were rare on Samhain night, and yet a horse was approaching at a steady, measured walk, and eventually, the hazy outline of a rider on a huge, ragged mount melted from the mist.

Your heart leapt to your throat and you stepped back, trying not to trip or stumble or bolt to your house for fear of insulting the rider. This was no human being sitting astride that monstrous horse with its rolling red eyes.

For one, the rider had no head.

“Dullahan,” you breathed before you could stop yourself, and you felt their attention sharpen onto you. You bit back a hissing curse at your stupidity just in time and stood your ground. There was an iron horseshoe above your door, and you wondered if that would be enough to protect you from this Unseelie Fae.

The horse’s hooves slowed and it tossed its head, snorting and blowing steam in the cold night, and the rider turned to regard you with a head that wasn’t there.

---

You will be able to read the whole story on the 'Little Ghosties' tier of Patreon from 21st October 2023!

I hope to see you there for more like this, and if you want to know a little more about it, here's the post I made to let folks know about my Patreon coming back!