John Linwood Grant

Biography

John Linwood Grant started writing dark fantasy and crime fiction some years ago. A career in health research interfered with this, but now he's back. Born in Yorkshire, England, he grew up in a tiny village by a wind-swept coast and three hundred foot cliffs, but fooled the Hidden Folk by moving to a large city full of cold iron. And better beer.

Six foot tall, good-natured and with his own beard, he and his partner have a child but don't usually know where it is. They also take on rescue lurchers and longdogs when they have room in the house. There's a lot of walking involved. And chicken carcasses.

Smashwords Interview

Who are your favorite authors?
I tend to read one author for far too long, until I'm burned out, and then skip to something quite different. So I'll have sessions with authors like Neil Gaiman, Neal Asher and John Connolly (I like a sense of something strange, different), and then I'll go on to old school stuff - H P Lovecraft, M R James, William Hope Hodgson. My very favourite from long ago is E G Swain, whose gentle Reverend Batchel ghost tales have never been bettered. After that I want to bury myself in those wonderful observational stories by people like E M Delafield, E E Nesbit and E F Benson. Mapp and Lucia always hooks me, every time. Dorothy L Sayers is a perennial, as well.
What inspires you to get out of bed each day?
The dogs. If you have three dogs sleeping in the bedroom, there comes a time when one or all of them require food, walkies or just general attention. The latter involves being jumped on by at least one hyperactive lurcher and told that you should get going. After that, and at least two pints of hot tea, it's time to stare at last night's writing drafts and wonder how many beers you had.
Read more of this interview.

Where to find John Linwood Grant online


Series

Tales of the Last Edwardian
Tales of the Last Edwardian is a series of connected and stand-alone stories which will eventually include at least two novels. Most of the stories include aspects of spiritualism, the occult or other psychic phenomena, especially at their late Victorian and Edwardian height. They reflect the work of the early psychic detectives and psychiatrists, and do cross into crime fiction in the process. A world of gas-light and lobotomies, electric pentacles and the garotte. They are, discounting any whimsical touches I might use in writing them, fairly dark tales of murder, possession, fanaticism, abuse and suchlike. More flowing blood than flimsy ectoplasm, let's put it that way. The timeline runs from around the Second Boer War (1899 – 1902), through the Edwardian age and into the horrors of the Great War and its aftermath. It continues in and after World War Two, until it reaches the present day. The phrase The Last Edwardian will explain itself in the later stories. For those of a geographical disposition, the stories are set in London, parts of Yorkshire and various other nooks and crannies around Great Britain.

The Intrusion

Price: Free!

A Loss of Angels

Price: Free!

Books

A Loss of Angels
Series: Tales of the Last Edwardian. Price: Free! Words: 6,510. Language: English. Published: August 10, 2015. Categories: Fiction » Mystery & detective » Historical
(5.00 from 1 review)
An appalling triple murder in Edwardian Manchester. The evidence is unchallenged, the confession sound. But before the hangman can do his work, an appeal is lodged. The guilty man was supposedly insane when he killed Edward, Eliza and Lucia Tallboys. Dr Alice Urquhart must establish the truth.
The Intrusion
Series: Tales of the Last Edwardian. Price: Free! Words: 3,960. Language: English. Published: July 30, 2015. Categories: Fiction » Horror » Occult
Edwin Dry walks the streets of Edwardian London, with his coat neatly buttoned and his bowler hat at just the right angle. He is always available, and always delivers what is required. In his own way. But his latest venture brings complications. Others are there before him, with a different agenda from his own, and so is something far stranger, far darker than Mr Dry himself.

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