Quick, Send in the Clowns... Don't Bother, They're Here

I've seen the name Jon Athan floating around on Facebook quite a bit, especially when it came down to recommendations for extreme horror. Some folks love him, and others have stated that they gave up after only a few chapters because they felt he was too extreme. Too violent. Too gory. Upon hearing that, he automatically went on my list of authors to check out. Do Not Disturb is my first read by this author, and it won't be the last.

First off, this is not quiet horror; the author himself classifies this as a slasher novel. I would take it one step further and describe it as torture porn, much like the Saw films and what I have seen of Rob Zombie's work. so I can understand why some folks would be turned off to something like this. It's more visceral than your normal slasher, and the author seems to relish the graphic descriptions of violence his antagonists administer to their victims. So if that's a turn off, than this particular novel is not for you. I can't speak to his other works because, as I mentioned previously, this is my first book by the author.

The story appears to be inspired by the rash of clown sightings that was sweeping the country a few years back, but where those appeared to have been harmless pranks, they aren't in Jon Athan's world. So that's the background against which the story is set.

The central characters are Colton and Lacey, a young twenty-something couple traveling cross country to attend a friend's wedding in Vegas. In a scene out of the Jeepers Creepers movie, their tire blows, and upon investigation, Colton declares the object piercing the tire to be a piece of bone. So automatically you begin to think that this was a trap deliberately set. They ride the rim, hoping to make it to the nearest town, where they can get the tire fixed, but then they happen upon an RV parked on the side of the road. Think the Creeper's truck. The RV is garishly painted and sports a clown sticker, so right away you know something is up. Our young couple seeks help from the driver, but it appears nobody is home, even though they "sense" somebody is in there and they are being watched. Lacey, an avid horror buff, begins to imagine every worst case scenario she has ever seen and applies it to their situation, pulling into her theories killer clowns, as they've been in the News lately. And now the game of cat and mouse begins. Our young couple continue to ride the rim, determined to make it to the next town, when the RV appears in the distance, bearing down on them at great speed, forces them off the road, and continues on. Finally, they manage to make it to a rest stop populated by a run-down hotel, a greasy spoon diner, and a road-side convenience store. Now that the stage has been set, the author proceeds to introduce the other characters.

What follows is a graphic blood bath, one room after the other at the roadside hotel, some of which is so over the top that you can't help but roll your eyes. Yet, you can't stop reading. It's literally a road-side accident, the kind you know you should look away from but can't.

One of the things I enjoyed most about this novel is that fact that the author keeps you guessing, and not just in the who lives/who dies situations. At one point Colton hears one of the clowns speaking in a normal tone and recognizes it. The reader's mind makes the connection, and if it's the same leap my mind made, you'd be wrong. The pacing is excellent once we get to the rest stop, traveling at a break-neck speed like a run-away truck going down a steep hill with no brakes. And you barely have time to catch your breath before you're thrown into the next scene. The characters are cardboard stereotypes you find in just about every horror movie, and you learn just enough about them to develop a feeling toward them so you know who to root for: I like these guys, but I hate that guy; that one's a bitch, I hope she dies first, but I hope that one survives. We don't learn enough about them that we become emotionally invested in them, which is what makes something like this work. You may react to a certain character's death with a, "Oh damn it, he died," but you aren't emotionally devastated by any one character's death. It's not like Hermione in Harry Potter being killed off, although I know plenty of people who would have preferred it if the snooty little kid met her maker.

My only issue with the book, and it's one that at least one other reader pointed out, is the chronic use of medical terminology to describe mutilations. And they are things the average reader would have to stop and look up if they wanted to verify the use was accurate. Things like (and this is only a minor example), "His bursa--the fluid-filled sac between his clavicle and humerus bones--burst." Would the average reader know if this is accurate? Most likely not; they would accept that the author knows what he's talking about. Others will stop reading to look up the accuracy of this information. But more importantly, would the characters know this is what's happening within their bodies? I don't know if this is the author's style, but it happens enough throughout the book that you begin to wonder if the author is just trying to pad his word count.

All in all, though, I enjoyed this book more than I thought I would. I'm not usually a fan of "human monsters," preferring my Big Bads to be of the creature or supernatural type, but I enjoyed it enough to search out other books by the author. Would I recommend it? Absolutely, but only if you're one of these readers who don't require trigger warnings (which, to me, defeats the whole purpose of horror), as some of the scenes, like the one involving the rubber chicken (and I'll leave it at that), can easily set some people off. So quick... Send in the clowns. Don't bother. They're here.

 

Burn It at the Stake...

I first encountered Tony Evans and Sour on Instagram through someone's Bookstagram post. Burnt out on zombies and vampires, I was looking for a good werewolf book to read, but figured witches were different, and I hadn't read a good witch book in what seemed like forever, so I figured, "Why not?" I mean, could it be that bad? The cover, after all, is totally bad ass. Sadly, the cover is the best thing about this book.

The first thing I noticed when I started reading the book was that it obviously hadn't been edited. The typos, the missing words, the words that should have been removed and hadn't been... I checked to see who the publisher was, and it turns out it was self-published. Figured. Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying all self-published books are bad, far from it. In fact, most of the books I read nowadays are either self-published or published through small presses, and many of them are quite good. But the ones plagued with as many errors as there are in Sour are usually self-published. 

The second problem I had is that it seemed to take forever to get passed the first half of the book. The characters just seemed to constantly be dancing around each other. "You shouldn't have gone there." "I know I shouldn't have, but I did, so there's no point fighting about it." "But why did you go there is you know you shouldn't have?" Lather, rinse, repeat. That's between husband and wife, and you find yourself hoping the witch shows up and kills them both so the reader no longer has to suffer from their verbal waltz. Then, when the book jumps to present day, the conversation is between two friends. "You know you don't have to do this." "I know I don't but I said I would." "Yeah, but you really don't have to." "I promised you I would, so I'm here." "But you can leave it you want to." "I'm not going anywhere. I said I would help you, so I'm staying." "But you don't have to." And round and round we go until the subject switches to the witch, and then it's a constant reminder that you shouldn't listen to anything the witch says, that she can get into your head and play with you thoughts, your memories, makes you see things you either are afraid of in an attempt to break you, or she'll show you what you most want to see in an attempt to trick you into doing what she wants, so don't listen to her. You got that? Don't listen to a thing she says because she can get into your head, make you see and hear things. So try to keep your head clear of any thoughts she could use against you because she can see into your head, and whatever she says, don't believe because she's lying. You got that? Don't listen to her. You finally get to the point where you want to scream, "We got it already, not shut the hell up and move the story along!"

The second half of the book, if you can manage to get that far, moves at a faster pace than the first half, but it seems like the author gets caught up in his own excitement, and he's racing to catch up with his thoughts; as a result, this is where the errors are most evident. And they create stumbling blocks that end up throwing the reader out of the story. Given the effort it's taken to get that far, it's a shame because it makes you hesitant to pick up the book again.

Another reason why it's a struggle to pick up the book every time you put it aside for the day is because you don't care about the characters. By the time you get to the midway point, where you should be rooting for the father to get his son back, you find yourself rooting for the witch so you can end this nightmare. The only reason you keep reading is to see Daddy fail because during the first half of the book, with all their dancing around each other, you've become so annoyed with them that you want them to die. And should you actually make it to the end, the author torments you even more by not ending things. Instead, he leaves it wide open for a sequel.

I went in to Sour with high expectations, especially after reading the reviews, and sadly, my expectations were dashed upon the rocks, where they shattered all to pieces. I was expecting some typos, as a number of reviewers had mentioned it in their reviews, but they made it seem like there was an occasional error here and there. Guess what? They lied. The pacing in the first half is uneven and drags worse than a dog with no back legs, which at times makes for tedious reading. And this after so many readers said it was non-stop action from beginning to end. Yawn! Many of the problems I had with Sour could have been easily corrected had the manuscript been handed over to a good editor. So unfortunately, as much as I would love to recommend this, I can't, as the author failed to cast a spell upon me. 
 

Clowning Around

 I've seen Adam Cesare's name floating around on several social media platforms, and even have a title or two of his waiting on my Kindle to be read, but I've been hearing such great things about Clown in a Cornfield, I decided to let it jump to the front of the line.

The book starts out with a group of kids hanging at the reservoir of Kettle Springs, doing what kids do -- drinking, smoking, high-diving off the rocks. And we're in the days of social media, so everything is being filmed and streamed live. Cole Hill is the star attraction, a local bad boy who had it all -- fame (local though it may be), good looks, and money. But attention is quickly drawn away from him when his younger sister climbs the stacks, a natural feature of the area that would put her relatively high up. And she proceeds to jump -- and hit her head on the way down. You know what comes next. Yeah, she's dead. And it's all been caught on camera. It was an accident, but Cole is seen as the one responsible for his sister's death.

Jump a year later, and we find Quinn Maybrook arriving in town with her father, who is replacing the town's previous doctor, who up and left rather suddenly. It's not long before Quinn falls in with the local pack of bad ones. You know the type, the pretty girl who's pretty and knows it -- and wants everybody else to know it; the clingy hanger-on, who clings to everybody -- the pretty girl, the jock, her boyfriend, who, while pretty herself, isn't the center of attention but wants to be; the jock, dumb, obnoxious, often acts without thinking; and in the center of it all is Cole, just returning from school after being investigated for suspicion of arson. The kids aren't really bad; they just do what kids do in a small town -- pranking anybody and everybody and filming it all for their followers on social media. Quinn soon learns that one teacher at the school has it in for this crowd; his boner for this crowd has him assigning them detention for the slightest offense, and Quinn soon finds herself thrown in with this crowd on her very first day of school because she giggled at the teacher's overreaction to a minor offense. So now, without even knowing these kids, she's gained a reputation.

It's not long before the kids are throwing a party out at an old, abandoned farm. And it's not long after the party starts that the blood starts to flow. And it's not just the "bad ones" who have fall prey to the killer; any kid in attendance is fair game. The killer? Frendo, the Clown. The town's mascot. But who is behind the mask?

If you're familiar with slashers, you're not going to find anything new here. You can quickly figure out who the killer is, who the final girl is going to be, and pretty much who will live and who will die. It's pretty formulaic. But that doesn't stop it from being fun. It's like going to see Friday the 13th, and the following year going to Friday the 13th Part II... And Part III, and Part IV, and Part V. You get the idea. You tune in not for the great story (because face it, slashers are pretty much all the same -- only the locations, names, and backstory change), but for the creative ways in which characters will die. Sadly, there's nothing creative here, with all the deaths again being relatively formulaic. And sadly, there's no point in the story where you stop rooting for the kids and start rooting for the killer, which I think is part of the fun of a slasher film. Cesare has created a cast of sympathetic characters, and you want to see them survive. Yes, even the annoying characters, as there's just enough backstory given on them for you to understand why they are the way they are. As I said earlier, they're not bad kids. Wait a minute. I take that back. There are two kids you really want to see bit the big one, but you don't realize that until you're almost at the end of the story. That was a twist I didn't see coming.

All in all, I enjoyed Clown in a Cornfield. Is it the great masterpiece folks are raving about? No. Not in my opinion, but it is a fun read, especially if you're a slasher fan. And don't be too surprised to see Clown in a Cornfield II in the not too distant future, as the author has set it up for a possible sequel.

Out Goin' Squatchin', Take II

I first discovered Hunter Shea back in 2016 when I read The Jersey Devil. As a big cryptid fan, I was hooked, and went on to read a number of other books by Shea that dealt with the Loch Ness Monster, Florida's skunk apes, giant iguanas that eat Florida, and mutated rats that overtake NY. Plus I have a number of other books in my TBR pile. As a native NYer, I also have a thing for horror novels set within the five boroughs, so when I saw Shea's latest, Bigfoot in the Bronx, it jumped to the top of my TBR.

The premise of the book is simple. BFFs Shay Walsh and Vito Esposito are planning an overnight hunting trip. Shay has been down on his luck, having been laid off from his job and no prospects in sight. He's hoping to bag a buck that will keep his family in meat for the coming winter, and Vito, should he succeed in bringing down a buck, has vowed to give the lion's share to Shay, but why should this year be any different than any other year. The only thing they ever bagged was a hangover from too much drinking on their way home. As luck would have it, though, once they get settled into a prime hunting spot, a buck wanders into the clearing, but before they can bring it down, something big and hairy runs out of the forest and kills the deer. When the creature collapses and doesn't move, the two men go to investigate. It seems somebody else has been on the hunt, but his prey was the ever elusive cryptid.

Shay and Vito think the creature is dead, overdosed by the tranquilizer darts embedded in its back. While Shay stands guard over the body, Vito goes to get his truck, and between the two, they get it loaded and head back home. Their hope is to reveal their evidence that Bigfoot is real and cash in on a big payday. What they don't count on is the Bigfoot only being knocked out, so by morning, the creature had awakened and broken free to go on a killing rampage through the Bronx. Shay and Vito are in hot pursuit, believing it's their responsibility to capture the beast since it their fault the creature was in their neighborhood anyway. But the tricky part is trying to keep it a secret from their wives until they can recapture the creature so they can expose it to the world and still win their big payday.

While there's plenty of blood and guts throughout the book, there's also some humorous moments, such as when the Bigfoot becomes high after consuming somebody who happens to have an entire pharmacy running through his system. As the story progresses, though, you realize that the creature is only killing because it's scared; by nature, it's a timid, intelligent creature that just wants to return home. As is typical with this type of story, character development takes a back seat (but that doesn't mean it's not there) to the action taking place. And while the story starts off slow, it quickly ramps up to a breakneck speed that doesn't let up until the end. We do see a change in our two main characters, who are originally motivated by greed. By the end of the book, however, they've grown sympathetic to the creature and want only to recapture it and return it to its home. There's too much guilt involved, as they feel responsible for every death. Are they successful? Or do they fall prey to the rampaging creature? You'll just have to read and find out.

Recently, because of various reasons I won't bore you with, it's taken me a while to get through books, no matter how long they are. But Shea's latest hooked me from the beginning, and I finished it within a couple of days. It's a book you can easily get caught up in, and you won't want to put it down. If you like killer Bigfoot stories, or are just a fan of killer cryptids in general, this is definitely a book you'll want to check out. I definitely recommend it.

 

The Boys in the Band Meets Stephen King

 

I wasn't sure what to expect when I started reading The Boys on the Mountain, as this is the first book by John Inman that I've read, but I was looking for a good haunted house novel, and this came up in a random search. Let me warn you, this is not for the squeamish or faint of heart, as there are events that take place in this novel that are quite disturbing.

We've all seen the premise before in countless other novels - horror writer buys house that is reputedly haunted. The house belonged to celebrated horror movie actor Nigel Letters, who died of autoerotic asphyxiation. But apparently Nigel isn't the only ghost inhabiting the house. From the first night James Brandon spends in the house, the ghosts make themselves known. That's right. There's more than one ghost haunting the old Letters house. As it turns out, there are at least fifteen spirits in the house, not including Letters himself, and each spirit is that of a young man who had fallen victim to Nigel Letters's kinky obsession, that of torturing and murdering young hustlers. They are all trapped in the house, forced to relive the moments of their deaths over and over again. James takes it upon himself to be the liberator of these "children," who he believes he can free by writing their stories as told by the spirits themselves. And it is through Jim's eyes that we relive the final moments of several of the young men trapped in the house. Inman doesn't shy away from details, as the scenes he paints are sexually graphic, horrifying, and gory.

In order to relieve the tension created by these horrific scenes, Inman introduces humor in the form of several friends Brandon has invited to spend the weekend, not realizing at the time that the house was as haunted and dangerous as it has revealed itself to be. Letters isn't afraid of making his presence known to the group of men, and neither are the ghosts of the hustlers. Letters is actually trying to drive them from the house because he realizes what Jim is trying to do. And once Jim explains to his friends what is going on, they agree to help as much they can. But what's a gathering of gay men without the campiness and flippant and sometimes bitchy humor. It might seem inappropriate, and even irreverent considering what the victims have gone through, but it works, as the reader often finds themselves chuckling in response to the reactions of these men to the horrors going on around them. Some might think it unrealistic, but the way Inman weaves it into the narrative so fluidly, it just seems natural. After all, folks often deal with traumatic events with humor.

I'm not going to offer any spoilers. If you want to see if James and his friends survive the ordeal and if they're successful in liberating the unfortunate victims and exorcising the ghost of Nigel Letters, you'll just have to read the book. I rarely have to put books aside because of content, but some of the scenes contained in this book are emotionally draining, and I was forced to set the book aside to allow myself to regroup before pushing on. I do have to admit, however, that the ending, at least for me, gets a little muddy and raises a big question, but the overall ride was intense and enjoyable. I do want to re-emphasize that this book has a number of triggers that can upset readers, so if you are put off by rape scenes, gay sex, or child abuse, this is not a book you should read, but if you can deal with those issues and are looking for an excellent haunted house story, this is one to consider. Beyond the horrors endured by the young men in this book, Inman has created some disturbingly creepy instances as regards the haunting. I'm curious to see what his other books are like, so I will definitely be reading more of Inman's work.

Out Goin' Squatchin'

 

In a field of rapidly growing killer Sasquatch books, the good books are proving to be as elusive as the creature itself. I had heard a lot of mixed reviews about the latest release from Max Brooks, author of World War Z, so I was very hesitant about picking it up, as the negatives seemed to outweigh the positives. Knowing that my tastes tend to buck the popular opinion, I shouldn't have waited as long as I had (pricing played a big part, as I couldn't bring myself to spend fifteen bucks for an e-book). I say that now that I've finished the book, but I admit to having my doubts when I started reading it.

To say the book is a slow burn is an understatement, but there's enough of a hook that has you pushing through. You know from the very beginning that the key narrator is among the missing. Whether she's dead or alive, we don't know. And even by the end of the book, we still don't know, but the fact that we are reading parts of her journal makes you curious. The book, you see, is written in epistolary form. For those unfamiliar with the style, it means it's written as a series of letters, journal entries, interviews, etc. If you're not a fan of this format, you're going to be miserable reading Devolution and might even be tempted to throw in the towel early on. My word of advice: Don't give up.

The premise of the story is simple. A small, isolated green community is cut off from the rest of the world when Mt. Ranier starts spewing ash. It comes down like snow and soon covers everything in a layer of grayness. Being that the community was built to be self-sufficient means that the residents can survive short term, but the point of the community was to cut down on the amount of waste emitted, so food stores, while present, are limited. With groceries coming in on a regular basis, there's really no need to stock up. Nobody ever expected this type of natural disaster. They have power, though, or at least they will once the ash is cleared from the solar panels, and food. What they don't have is a means of contacting the outside world, as the heavy ash content in the air is interfering with the cell reception. No cell phones, no internet. Kate and her husband, as the newest residents of the community, are at even more of a disadvantage than the other residents--they are still getting settled in when disaster strikes. The instability of the mountain disrupts the entire ecosystem, and animals start to flee the area. But the local wildlife isn't the only thing flushed from their homes. This is the Pacific Northwest, remember, and what else is the area known for? Well... Bigfoot. That's right. A small community of Sasquatches are forced from their homes, and the community of Green Loop is in their path. With food and shelter being scarce for these creatures, it soon becomes a battle for dominance and survival. Primate vs primate, and the residents of Green Loop have to devolve into man's primitive state as they battle to survive.

As a mentioned previously, the beginning of the book is a slow burn, and parts of it are like trudging through thick swamp water, but once the first encounter occurs, things escalate quickly to an edge-of-your-seat thriller. The pacing of the book is one of the concerns I see expressed, and many readers feel that only that last 50 to 75 pages are worth reading. I disagree. The journey to the end is definitely one worth taking.

Another criticism I see most about this book concerns the amount of detail included in the journal entries, that nobody could be that detailed when recounting the events as they transpired. That didn't bother me, as the journal entries were often written during down time immediately following a chain of events. It's not like they're being written months later. This is an exercise for a woman whose mental health isn't at its best, so it's not surprising or unexpected that she would try to include as much detail as possible.

My one issue with the book, however, lies with two of the characters -- Yvette and her husband, the founders of the community. Their egos are soooo fragile, and the minute their picture-perfect world becomes threatened, they fracture faster than Mostar's glass art. Practically overnight, they are reduced to a feral state even more primitive than the creatures threatening them. Their slide into this state comes across, as least to me, as too happening too fast. They were the glue holding the community together, but the minute their decisions are questioned, they realize they are no longer needed and withdraw completely from the community. It comes across as a contrived plot device to further isolate a group of complacent people who have grown to rely on their founders for guidance and support. The residents are literally thrown to the dogs and forced to fend for themselves. But in the process of isolating the community, Brooks also reduced Yvette and her husband to cannon fodder. You resent what they've become, as there was no valid reason for it, so you don't care what happens to them. In fact, once you see what they've allowed themselves to become, you hope they're one of the first to die. The founders eventually become non-entities and are forgotten by the community until such time as it becomes convenient to use them again. The fact that they are MIA through much of the book, the reader comes to believe they crept out in the middle of the night, literally abandoning those who have looked to them for leadership.

There are few Bigfoot books I consider worth taking the time to read, and Max Brook's Devolution is one of them. It joins Frank Peretti's Monster as one of my favorites in the Bigfoot genre. If you. like me, enjoy books about our elusive furry friend of the Pacific Northwest (and other areas), do yourself a favor and pick up this one and give it a read. I don't think you'll be disappointed.