A collection of short stories and novellas set in the world of the Iron
& Blood novels and the related Storm and Fury Adventures.

Includes:
Airship Down, Ruin Creek, Resurrection Day, The Hunt, Grave Voices,
and Rogue. Plus two bonus stories: Ghost Wolf and a Steampunk fairy
tale: The Patented Troll

(Pending)

“I’ve got to catch that train!” Agent Jacob Drangosavich of the Department of Supernatural Investigation opened the throttle on his steam-powered experimental velocipede, pushing the steambike to its limits as he raced to catch up with the locomotive.

All of his attention was focused on the train, and he willed himself to go faster, closing the distance between himself and the speeding locomotive.

Mitch Storm, his partner, was aboard that train, and he was counting on Jacob to back him up. The sound of a gunshot in the train’s sole passenger car doubled Jacob’s resolve.

That’s got to be Mitch, Jacob thought. Question is, was Mitch doing the shooting or getting shot?

Jacob coaxed a bit more speed from the velocipede, despite its straining engine. He was gaining on the locomotive, close enough now to see the automaton in the cab, a metal man taking the place of a human railroad engineer at the controls of the train. The click-clack of the train on the rails drowned out the roar of Jacob’s steambike, and the clouds of smoke belched from the locomotive’s stack drifted between him and his quarry, partially hiding him from view.

“Come on, come on,” he muttered to himself, pushing the velocipede for every bit of power its engine could muster.

Jacob had a Peacemaker in a shoulder holster and another, less conventional weapon holstered at his hip. The Department paid the best scientists in the country a premium to supply them with top-secret, often one-of-a-kind weapons, tools, and gadgets that made the stories of Jules Verne pale by comparison.

“Just a little more,” Jacob muttered, crouching low over the velocipede’s handlebars to reduce the wind resistance. The steambike edged nearer to the train, and Jacob grabbed his second gun, an odd contraption with a bulbous grip and a metal tube in the center of a coil of wires. Jacob veered his bike a few crucial inches closer, leveled his weapon at the copper-faced werkman at the train’s controls, and fired.