Sylvester Ryder is a Private Detective living in 1950's London. At a low ebb, due to having been to late to save a kidnapped girl from death on a prior case, Sylvester is struggling with the lack of work and money to survive. But, the situation cannot surely remain like this...

It's just an ordinary day for octogenarian sleuth Myrtle Clover-until her yardman discovers a dead body planted in her backyard. This death isn't cut and dried-the victim was bashed in the head with one of Myrtle's garden gnomes. Myrtle's friend Miles recognizes the body and identifies him as Charles Clayborne... reluctantly admitting he's a cousin. Charles wasn't the sort of relative you bragged about-he was a garden variety sleaze, which is very likely why he ended up murdered. As Myrtle starts digging up dirt to nip the killings in the bud, someone's focused on scaring her off the case. Myrtle vows to find the murderer...before she's pushing up daisies, herself.

"The world spun. Lifting and crashing. And he was falling, falling, falling. The lights dim and the noises halt and he was sure. He was so sure. This was the warning. This was it. Stay out of the Grey." Grey: without color. And that's exactly what Dennis was. A Grey.

For months Summer is trapped in a cellar with the man who took her - and three other girls: Rose, Poppy, and Violet. His perfect, pure flowers. His family. But flowers can't survive long cut off from the sun, and time is running out...

Just some short horror stories. -- Please don't be too critical of me based on my writing near the beginning of these omg