Brood of the Witch Queen

In the dead of night, necks break and bodies fall, and no human hand can be found to blame. When Sir Michael Ferrara is strangled in his locked bedroom, Dr. Bruce Cairn and his son Robert are drawn into a mystery that defies rational explanation. A young woman dies alone in a hospital room, apparently throttled by invisible fingers. A swan's neck is wrung in an ornamental pool. These are not random deaths but offerings to something ancient, something patient, something that has waited in the shadows of the old world to emerge into this one. As Cairn digs deeper, he must confront the terrifying possibility that the adopted son Antony harbors secrets beyond human reckoning, and that the Witch Queen and her brood represent forces so old that humanity has forgotten they ever existed. Rohmer builds his horror with deliberate, creeping menace, layering supernatural dread against the fragile facade of modern rationality. For readers who crave the gothic chill of classic pulp horror, where ancient evil lurks behind every locked door and the past refuses to stay buried.