King of the Hill, the next story in my collection, Corpse Road Blues, is a tale of past lives and things lost and found.

One Spring a few years back, I rode over to West Kennet Long Barrow, which is a ceremonial construction dating back to the Early Neolithic era that had often been used as a tomb. For me, this place has an ancient vibe of magic and reverence that almost hums through the earth, the stones, and the air around the site, providing a deeply calming effect. As it’s not far from where I live, I managed an early morning trip in the hope of avoiding other visitors. It paid off. And I was treated to a good hour sitting on top of the burial chamber overlooking a low-level mist shrouding Wiltshire’s rolling landscape, letting the atmosphere seep into my bones, before taking a peek inside the barrow.

When my internal mystic fuel tank was topped up, I followed the long track back to the road. It was here that I passed a group of around ten to fifteen people, some of whom were dressed in robes, with two black dogs padding along beside them. I raced to the assumption that they were a local coven. Who knows? Did they make it into the story? You’ll have to read King of the Hill to find out.

If you’d like to read the story, please pre-order Corpse Road Blues here.