I have been chastised by my friend, Cliff, who runs this blog and grille, for linking too much and blogging too little.

So, for Cliff, here’s an excerpt from my novel, The Enigma Club.

    Gouts of steaming, black blood gushed across its sublime malignance.  It howled in disbelief, even as Porterfoy Franklin-Smythe, in a protective circle of runes he had etched into the earth with a meat thermometer, stood before the Elder God, his eyes rolled back in utter apperception.
    “Shii’Ra, Lo’t’Ar, K’Ton, ull’a rak’Koht, ull’a rak’Koht
    C’leth n laakos ‘ati, ull’a rak’Koht
    Ta’Grypkt wa’gak n laakosi, ull’a rak’Koht, ull’a rak’Koht
    O’gak, sh’ing’t’aa Ar D’laakos, ull’a rak’Koht!“