Ghouls possess a sense of humor. Whether a human would appreciate the jokes would depend on how refined the human is.

Ghouls and gugs really, really don’t like each other.

A ghoul. A corpse. Chewing ensues. Pretty much a mandatory illustration for this book.

Don’t mess with the ghoul cultists. You won’t get mummified so you’ll never make it to the afterlife.

How big is a ghoul compared to a gug or a human? Haven’t you always been curious?

Ghouls, while not an especially aggressive species, are occasionally quarrelsome and those differences of opinion can lead to rather bloody negotiations.

Ghouls make other ghouls in both the old fashioned way (by breeding amongst themselves) and by trading ghoul babies for human babies. For some reason humans who spend a lot of time in the company of ghouls usually become ghouls themselves. This is especially true for human babies raised by ghouls.

Ghoul babies raised by human beings will eventually become ghouls as well. It just takes them longer than if they actually raised by ghouls.

I went to the grocery store this morning to pick up a head of lettuce. There’s a lot of turkey in the refrigerator so lettuce was needed for the inevitable sandwiches I’ll be eating for the next week. And what did I hear when I walked through the sliding doors?

Christmas music.

Oh right. Christmas follows Thanksgiving. And here I am posting sketches of carrion eating troglodytes. (These are the rough sketches for interior illustrations of the Ghoul Sourcebook.)

I suppose I’ll consider these sketches a reminder of how finite our time is. That we end up as food for something – worms, fire, flesh-eating bacteria, maybe even strange ancient underground dwelling cousins. Any day above ground is a good day. We might as well celebrate while we can. Happy Holidays!