Hell Hound: Jane Doe Chronicles - Shapeshifter Urban Fantasy by Matthew Sylvester

Author:Matthew Sylvester [Sylvester, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Matthew Sylvester
Published: 2019-11-27T16:00:00+00:00

'This is proper bloody medieval!' whispered Dawn as she took in the cobbled courtyard, exposed wooded beams and a group of pissed goblins arguing over who got to drink the piss next. 'What are those things doing?' She inclined her head towards the goblins.

'They're literally getting pissed. They drink human piss, the fresher the better. Bloody love it.'

Dawn's skin turned a lighter shade of brown, 'Um. Wow. Haven't got to the Goblin in my grimoires yet. That's…' she flapped a hand, 'really not cool.'

'Babes, there's far worse to come. Sit in that snug over there. I'll get us a couple of pints.' She nodded somewhat vaguely, and I was reminded once again as to just how much she had to learn.

The culture shock of being introduced to the Magical world was clearly overwhelming sometimes. It was probably exactly how a member of the Magical community would feel when stripped of their powers by the Merlins and cast out.

Although those never really lasted very long. Being stripped of your powers, usually only after committing some heinous crimes, was essentially a death sentence. You'd have had to cross some very nasty beings for such a punishment, and without any powers, you'd be a sitting duck.

The bar in the White Hart, was a fabulous construction of ancient wood, the top polished by thousands of hands and arms resting upon it. The barman, a gnome called Bartlett, popped up and down as he darted along serving people drinks. With two lower fangs jutting up through his mutton chops, and red eyes with white pupils, he looked positively demonic but was quite a sweetie. Once you got past his guard, that was. And the best way to do that was to buy his beer and compliment him on it.

'What's you 'aving?' he rumbled, his voice so deep I swore I felt it coming up through my feet.

'Pint of Gutbuster and a Grumble Tum,' I took out gold shilling and dropped it onto the bar. 'And a couple of shots of your Gillray Whisky.' He smiled at that. It wasn't exactly what you would call a pleasant smile, but it was a genuine one. Gnomes can't help how they look, after all. They probably find us just as disgusting.

'Good choice, one tick.' He dropped back out of sight, and I could hear him scurrying about behind the counter. A couple of seconds, he was back up plonking the drinks onto the bar.

Gnomes, aside from a somewhat demonic appearance, could also move incredibly quickly. They were the Flash of the Magical world. No one could beat them in a race, not even using Magic, and many had tried. As a result, they weren't allowed to take part in the Paranormal Olympics unless they were racing their own kind.

‘Thanks.' I took a sip of the Gutbuster. It was glorious. A chocolatey-hoppy-dark beer, it was perfectly chilled. It was like taking a bite from a drink every time you sipped.

The name came from the fact that it was so damned rich that if felt like you were busting your guts the next morning.

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