Dust and Desire: One Month Till Publication

Titan Books, November 2015


Mawker cocked his head at the bedroom, so I went to have a closer look. The body was still there, naked, erupted, strewn across the sheets like something from Professor Gunther von Hagens’ shed.

‘You know him?’ Mawker said. ‘Name of Liptrott.’

‘Not sure,’ I said. ‘He seems to have lost a bit of weight.’

Mawker looked at me with a pitying expression, as if I was a kid showing off at a party.

Liptrott had been unzipped. His face meanwhile bore the expression of someone who has just been given a key to the room marked Hot Pussy only to find a cat in a microwave.

Dead Letters


Coming in April 2016 from Titan Books…

Dead Letters

An anthology of the undelivered, the missing, the returned…

Edited by Conrad Williams

The Green Letter – Steven Hall

Over to You – Michael Marshall Smith

In Memoriam – Joanne Harris

Ausland – Alison Moore

Wonders to Come – Christopher Fowler

Cancer Dancer – Pat Cadigan

The Wrong Game – Ramsey Campbell

Is-and – Claire Dean

Buyer’s Remorse – Andrew Lane

Gone Away – Muriel Gray

Astray – Nina Allan

The Days of Our Lives – Adam LG Nevill

The Hungry Hotel – Lisa Tuttle

L0ND0N – Nicholas Royle

Change Management – Angela Slatter

Ledge Bants – Maria Dahvana Headley & China Miéville

And We, Spectators Always, Everywhere – Kirsten Kaschock

Dust and Desire: Three Months Until Publication

I started her up and took her along Crawford Street, first left into Seymour Place and then left again up on to the Westway. I love driving at night. Obviously, the traffic’s pretty much non- existent at that hour, but that’s not the main appeal. London, for me, comes alive at night, seeming to breathe and seethe with possibilities. It flexes its muscles, this city, when everybody is asleep, perhaps working out the cramp from the previous day, with so much filth clogged in its airways, so many dirty feet shuffling along its streets. Regenerating itself, sloughing off its outer skins, the dark is this city’s friend. They feed off each other, London and the night. As do the few who emerge at this hour, who know how to read its secrets.