An old man is walking his dog on the somerset marshes when a storm approaches. As he flees for home, he is hunted by unnatural figures calling out in a forgotten language... Where did they come from? What are they? And who is really the prey?
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About the Author
Tom was born in the south-east of England (even he hesitates to use the phrase 'grew up'), and has been writing bizarre stories since he was able to hold a pen. He's lived in East Sussex, Kent, Somerset and France, and spent time in a variety of other parts of the UK for reasons too ridiculous to get into here (some involving women, but most involving work). He's a writer in his spare time, of which he has lots in the winter and virtually none in the summer. Given a chance he'll talk your leg off about whatever is pinging around in his overactive brain. He thought it unlikely that anyone would make him a fan page on facebook, but it turns out that he has awesome friends (and fans)! He also feels a bit weird for writing this in the third person, but he won't let it bother him too much.