…who’s the scariest of them all?
   The first famous mirror I thought of was the mirror of Venus. The symbol of the female of the species and all that. There is actually one interesting perception phenomenon associated with it. The Venus effect. It comes from a painting by Velazquez where Venus appears to be admiring her reflection in the mirror. (more…)

I realised we aren’t actually having a summer this year right after I had my hastily ordered fan delivered. Instead of providing “the hottest summer on record”, the heavens opened with impeccable timing for my trip to the Open Air Theatre at Regent’s Park… (more…)

“Constance surveyed the room. The few visitors there stared at exhibits; no one seemed to notice their strange entrance. She nodded to Ares and they moved out.
   They went through endless corridors and hallways and out of the museum. The next foyer they came to led into another wing of the building. Bear-like security guard sat behind the desk next to a spiralling staircase. A scarecrow, Constance thought. They strode towards him. The guard stood up and blocked their way.
   ‘This area is closed to the public. The museum is…’ His eyes turned to saucers as his gaze fell on Constance. She saw his hand inching towards a clear prism fixed to his belt. Despite his size, the man presented no threat in himself, but his power blaster was packed to the maximum. No need for fireworks yet. She smiled.
   ‘Lovely place you’ve got here.’
   ‘State your purpose,’ the guard demanded, his hand gripping the prism.”

Years ago Constance made a pact with her opponent to save a child. Constance kept her end of the bargain, but has she been foolish to trust her ancient rival? She should have known better… A wicked betrayal brings the eternal feud to its inevitable conclusion, but who will win in the deadly battle of equals?

Last week I finally managed to read Night Watch, the book on which the cult film was based (well, it was based on the first part of it; although, confusingly, the second and third parts of Night Watch the book were also made into film - Day Watch, which is the second book in the trilogy…) (more…)

I always think of the month of April as both cheery and cool at the same time (just like me, ha!). Hot in the sun, but chilly in the shade. And we are meant to have April showers. But, as we launched April Knight website in April 2007, wasn’t it sunny and warm in England? Freakishly so.
   “It’s raining. Ooh, baby, it’s raining!” – (more…)

When we’d first put up the homepage a few weeks ago, a friend told me (sounding rather disappointed) that he was expecting something strange to happen in vain. He kept looking at the picture because the blurb suggested something weird would be happening… But it was just a picture. Sorry about that, TC, and thanks for the tip! (more…)

Hello! I am April Knight and this is my gothic fiction website.
   A bit about me: I’d like to think I’m quite a creative soul - I write, draw, design, take photos of interesting clouds and such (there’s my day job as well, but that’s really boring). Love gothic books, films, music. Give me dark and mysterious and I am happy, basically.
   Ok, just to clarify, I am not a vampire (despite what some of my friends may think…) (more…)

“ ‘Truly, “a rose by any other name…”,’ the lady waved her hand. She did not seem to notice Will’s open-mouthed stare. ‘But do you know where the proper name - Centaurea Cyanus - comes from?’
   ‘No, Ma’am.’
   ‘It has Greek origin. The genus name “Centaurea” comes from Centaur – a half man, half horse creature. According to a legend, Chiron, a wise centaur, was once wounded in a battle with an arrow spiked with the toxic blood of hydra. He healed himself by applying the wild cornflower to the wound.’
   The lady was speaking quickly. Will concentrated hard but the ache in his hand seemed to blank out every other one of her words. He hid his hands behind his back.
   ‘- and the flower name comes from another legend about flower goddess Flora. She had a favourite pageboy called Kyanus. It means “blue” in Greek according to the colour of the clothes he wore. When he died, she turned his body into a beautiful blue flower. From henceforth that flower was called Kyanus, or Cyanus in Latin. And there you have it - Centaurea Cyanus.’
   With the sun behind her, the lady’s face was a dark outline, but something about her stance reminded Will of the enduring expression that his Latin teacher had when he listened, with the head slightly tilted, to readings from a prepared passage. Will could not think of an appropriate response and waited politely.”

St George’s School is like any other boys’ school – peaceful and orderly to an outsider, but for its residents it is steeped in secret conflicts and injustices where only the strongest rule. These laws of the jungle do not sit well with Will, but what can he do? He is only one person. A bunch of blue flowers starts off a chain of mysterious events that may hold the answer.

“Scott ran up the path and jumped over the steps two at a time. He stopped at the heavy wooden door. It was blocked by a rusty chain wrapped loosely around the handles. The chain was fastened by a padlock the size of a massive horseshoe. He pushed the door as far as he could. A child could have squeezed through the opened narrow gap afforded by the chain, but it was too small for Scott. He tried the lock. It snapped open in his hurried hands. Great security. Mind you, who in their right mind would want to break in here? The chain rattled on the stone floor. The door gave in with a creak of complaint. Scott hesitated for a moment and stepped over the threshold. Inside the air was thick with the smell of wet earth. The gloom made him stop.
   ‘Alex!’ the sound of his voice echoed through the darkness.
   Scott blinked several times to adjust his eyes and walked a few steps forward. The top floor formed a platform of a few feet in front of him and circled the perimeter of the crypt leaving a dark gap to the level below. Scott followed the steps down slowly, feeling them out with his feet first. A torch would have been useful here. He remembered looking at one of those pocket ones recently. He should have bought it then.”

Detective Inspector Scott is on a trail of a missing boy. At first it looks like a straightforward case of teenage runaway. But as the story begins to unravel, it makes Scott re-evaluate his personal situation. And with no shortage of suspects can the truth be more horrifying than he could have imagined?