Jules G. Cordier writes from the tangled edges of history and myth, where bargains are binding and every knot hides a story. Little is known about the author beyond scattered notes in candle-burned journals and the occasional whisper from the bayou, which is curious since the nearest swamp is several states away. Official records of Cordier’s existence are unreliable, but someone keeps leaving stories wrapped in string and sealed with wax near the river.
