Book Junkiez

Dark Fantasy, Lovecraftian Fantasy, Horror, Occult and Supernatural,
Witchcraft and Magic

Publication Date: October 14, 2024

Whether she’s crawling across a sweltering bayou or swimming
languidly through a swamp, the bog hag watches and waits.

Join sixteen AuthorTubers as they explore the allure and mystery of the Bog
Hag, turning her from a villain to a gal with a social calendar, a vendetta,
or even a need to be the best she can be.

Any and all proceeds from the sales of this anthology go to Quill Cottage
Wildlife, a 501C3 nonprofit.

Featuring A Murky Reckoning

Garwick Greedgill is a fisherman desperate to become a legend in the realm
where he dwells. When he pulls a horrific creature up from the polluted sea,
he sacrifices it to the legendary sorceress who is said to live at the
center of the bog near which he dwells.

Yadira of the Roots is said to be the daughter of Nyarlathotep, the
Wish-Bringer From Beyond the Stars. Will Garwick’s actions earn favor
from the storied Bog Hag, or does another fate await him?

Excerpt

An Aquatic Reckoning

Back at the dock, the fisherman hurried to the stables, paying the stable
hand four Electrotokens to rent a cart and a pair of mules to haul his catch
away. He promised to return the cart and the animals the next day.

Garwick Greedgill was thick around the midsection and had a sunken chest
and narrow frame that belied the strength of his wiry arms. His leathery,
tanned skin bore witness to many years spent on a boat’s deck under the
sun’s harsh glare. His hair was a bristly mix of silver and gunmetal gray,
poking through the many holes in a threadbare red cap embossed with the
emblem of a long-forgotten fishing guild. A heavy forehead and scowling brow
framed eyes a sickly shade of murky green, reminiscent of a polluted ocean.
His broad nose bent slightly to one side courtesy of a mishap with the sail
boom. Countless hours spent retrieving catch after catch left his calloused
hands stained with fish scales and innards as he searched for the grand haul
that always eluded him.

Garwick wore frayed puce trousers held up by a filthy, tattered flaxen rope
belt. His once-bright cerise tunic, covered in various colored patches where
he had mended it over the years, was threadbare. It hung loosely over his
prominent belly. The soles of his scuffed brown boots were worn thin,
leaving his feet vulnerable to the cold and damp. He wore a necklace of
oddly shaped stones and bones that he believed would attract good luck. The
longed-for luck seldom materialized.

Garwick drove the cart as close as possible to the bog extending beyond his
property’s edge. He lived in a ramshackle hut between the bog and a
twisting, moss-covered path that led to a meandering creek. Near the hut was
a dingy shed. Every corner held remnants of his profession—a
collection of rusty hooks, tattered nets, and an old, cracked barrel filled
with miscellaneous items of dubious worth. A box containing lucky tokens
collected over the years sat on a dusty shelf. Best of all, there was a
wondrous grimoire. An odor of decay emanated from the book’s brown hide
cover. Garwick did not mind the strange texture or unpleasant scent of the
tome. Based on today’s catch, the grimoire’s magic had already begun to
work.

About the Author

C. L. Hart, the owner and sole employee of Naughty Netherworld Press and
Ornery Owl Ventures, is spoken of in hushed tones. She is an editor who
writes or a writer who edits. She is also described as The Mad Scribe of the
Northeastern Colorado Plains, The Terrible Old Woman, and The Author That
Should Not Be. She is a member of ACES Editing Society, the Denver Horror
Collective, First Coast Romance Writers, the H. P. Lovecraft Historical
Society, Passionate Ink (writing as Lil DeVille), Regency Romance Writers,
and Rocky Mountain Romance Writers.

Ms. Hart shares a home in a remote rural town of 134 souls with her adult
son and three cats. Her sense of fashion is best described as Early
Twenty-First Century Unmade Bed. This disabled former nurse can usually be
found arguing with herself about subplots or rehabilitating eldritch
horrors.

When not penning sanity-destroying works of dystopian fiction, Lovecraftian
fantasy, or old-school horror with the occasional sweet romance thrown in to
upset the cosmic apple cart, Ms. Hart enjoys creating baked goods she hopes
will be considered palatable by someone besides eldritch horrors.

Follow C. L. Hart

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