tartan bunker

Name’s MacCavity. I’m Head of Dekaydence Security. Boss of the Tartan Guards, Red and Black. I can tell you they’re a handful, whatever tartan they’re wearing: The Blacks are the tough guys, shielding their eyes behind red tartan sunglasses. The Reds? Well, think Labrador crossed with poodle. It’s the Reds who are in charge of the haggoids, the wee, wild metal dogs wi’ their infra-red eyes which survey and send back information to Dekaydence hq.

Dekaydence? It’s a global corporation into media, sweets and much more beside. I work for the main man, Signor Lorenzo di’Abalo. As does, Randall Candelskin, a nervy young man who worked once for the UK’s Prime Minister.

So why does a businessman need a tartan army for security? That’s for you to find out. Battle commences in Black Light, the first book in the Chronicles of Dekaydence, out August 2008. I’ll clock in wi’ you on Sundays, when I take my break from the smoke and sit here by the sea in North Berwick, in ma tartan bunker, with ma wee cat, MacMog.