It was another dead Thursday night at the smoke-filled hole-in-the-wall bar, Rusty’s. The bartender set out to look busy, vigorously scrubbi

I gripped the silver dagger, La Dame d’Croc, tighter. Like droplets of blood across the blade, my eyes reflected my desire for its destructi

Pre-Celtic, Gaelic, Scottish Highland folklore, British, Arthurian, THOUSANDS of years old – no can find where she started! We’ll start...