Book three of the trilogy is called…

Drum roll… It’s time to reveal that the title of the third book in The ABC Chronicles is -

The Avalon Artifice

‍ ‍When duty becomes obsession, who will make the ultimate sacrifice?

It’s late December 1891 and deep beneath the hustle and bustle of Manchester’s streets, the Stormriders  are lying low in the Temple following their failed Freedom Brigade meeting raid.

Fugitives from the law and targeted by the growing number of grey-shirts on the streets, the Order is no nearer to finding the Anthropocene leader.

Now, for the first time in her tenure as High Mother, Algeria senses doubt in her leadership. The time is fast-approaching when she must make an agonising choice. Drastic measures are necessary. Although the survival of the Order is in peril, she believes the price of failure is far greater.

Time is not her friend.

The race to save Mother Earth is on…

Meanwhile, the dowager countess of Weepingbrook Hall is dead. Brutally murdered. The only clues are a room full of shredded clothing, a dismembered mek and a mysterious burnt-out building.

Facing opposition from Freedom-sympathising colleagues, can detectives Ironstone and Slack uncover the countess’s callous killer?

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Here is the penultimate instalment of the weird fiction short story…

Talleyrand

Continued…

A scream shattered the air. “Humphrey!” I woke sitting upright in my bed, panting, wreathed in sweat.

Aunt Venice rushed to my side. “Whatever is the matter, my dear?” She smoothed the hair stuck to my brow. “You will wake the dead with all your commotion.”

For however long I live, I shall never forget the pain and disappointment in her eyes when I recounted my tale. As I dressed, she confessed that Rose O’Byrne, known locally as Rosie O’Blue for the startling blue streak in her hair, was the first occupant of the attic room at Talleyrand. She had been due to marry on Christmas Eve 1753, but six weeks earlier her beloved had not returned from a hunting trip. With rumours of his infidelity spreading, Rose retreated into solitude.

On the day she was to wed, she died in a blaze in that attic room at Talleyrand, and weeks after her death, the room was locked. The mystery of her death was never solved. Was it an accident, murder or did she take her own life?

Conjecture led to rumours of Rosie’s haunting of the house, waiting for her lover, and other than Monsieur Talleyrand, no one stayed in the house longer than forty days.

“Now you know the secret of Talleyrand, run to Humphrey. Run!”

With the hem of my dress held tightly in both hands, I hurtled headlong along the road to Talleyrand. A long-forgotten fragment of my mother’s oft-recited verse spun around my head.

                                    … on her finger ne’er a wedding band,

                                    Oh, Rosie O’Blue,

                                    What happened to you?

                                    That e’en at Talleyrand.

I was gasping for breath when I galloped up the wet staircase with no fear for my own safety. At the wooden door, I balled my fists and pounded as hard as my dwindling strength would allow. In desperation, I threw myself at the door as Humphrey had done and fell to my knees in despair. But my efforts had wrenched the door off its hinges, and I ran into the dark, silent room.

© Drew Halfpenny 2025

To find out what happens to Rowena, make sure you catch the shocking conclusion next week.