The Werewolf of Locus Bradle

Three years have passed, three years of relative tranquility.

Then, nightmare visions strike from nowhere.

 Wales and the southwestern parts of England, the misty hills, the wet moors, the Cornwall coast are steeped in legends and stories.

 Somewhere there a beast is awakening, rising from its dark slumber, to visit its wrath upon the modern world. The city of Padstow is ravaged by death, a killer tearing to pieces its victims, leaving only parts of the body, enjoying human flesh. Fate has not been kind to Padstow and its inhabitants in recent years. The economy is in recession. The tourists, once the lifeblood of the area, are now staying away, far away.

 Old friends call Liz and Ted Warren, paranormal investigators and adventurers, to the city. They arrive in a place paralyzed by fear and suspicion. Blood flows in Padstow. They can smell it, from the highest tower to the lowest cellar, as above so below. Many things, many people hide there, some they know, some they don't. But as they peel ever-thicker layers off the blanket hiding the town's secrets they're also closing in on their own riddles. They meet a man who can tell them everything, everything they've spent their lives wondering about. Fangs and claws of the Earth are tearing open the most confined of caskets.

 Padstow is the world, and the world is the stage where they must wage their battle.