The Frewyn Herald: Home of the Haanta Series

In the last few months, I've had my hands in many literary pies: The compilation of Myndil the Missionary stories was published from Pendelhaven Press, another Myndil book is currently being written, Martje's cookery book is coming along, and I've been writing several songs for the Frewyn Music Project, a collaboration with songwriter and musician Noah Tolhurst (Stillbuster). I have been considering an album of Frewyn songs for a while, but it was Noah's darling wife who had the genius idea of putting us together in a room with bodhrans and mandolins. My books have many songs, like The Creature of the Deep and the Merrow in the Barrow, but due to the Tolhurst enthusiasm, I've been more keen to put down more. I have no idea when the album will be out, but here is something to tide you over, a song about our Frewyn friend Mad Queen Maeve: The Ballad of Mad Queen Maeve The apples in winter don’t fall from the bough They cling to the autumn without knowing how

For all those who suffer from malaise this time of the year, I hear you. And so does Bilar:                 The mirk of midnight sinuated in, the luminaries pullulating across the sky, the moon hanging heavily in the humidity between sungates, the canopy blanketed in starlight. The capital tripped into its natural sloom, the glink of water on stone whelmed the docks, the delicate footfalls of soldiers patrolling the streets and marching along the wall pattering over the landscape, lights in windows simmered into a sobering hue, the churchyard and issuing square were silent under the splendour of the coming holiday, and the castle keep lapsed into its slumbering state, everyone having fallen asleep in the arms of some other,   the sconces along the halls surrendering themselves to the insuperable gloom, the thrill of an early winter whispering their seasonal secrets to the gales. The sun delayed its appearance, relinquishing its powers to the extended evening, the darkened morning