THE HEADY SCENT OF SAVELOY AND PATCHOULI
Once Rosie De La Mare (feted adept of the extremely long con) had set out baited traps around the louche and frou-frou absinthe parlours of late 19th century Soho, it was only time before the heady scent of saveloy and patchouli lured puffed-up fading dandy occultist Graham Wood into her finely woven web. Awakening from a mesmeric fugue state, he found himself in a strange, eldritch dwelling high on a moonlit hill, overlooking a far green wonderland he came to know as ‘Sheppey’. After investigating many shocking paranormal events together in the avenues and alleyways of Whitstable, (you’ll of course remember their involvement in the case of the screaming vermillion lights at full moon on Westbeach, that bled a mercury-like fluid that dissolved everything it touched) it was only inevitable the pair would bring into being what could only be described as a a star borne transmission from beyond the realm of cosmic understanding; an hour of music and muttering that, once heard, could never, ever be unheard. And they called it ‘Bedazzled’. Because you will be.