We're Gonna Need a Bigger Boat

I've been a fan of Steve Alten ever since I first read Meg: A Novel of Deep Terror back in 1997, but I usually reserve these books for summer reading and my Don't Go Near the Water reading challenge, so why I'm reading it right before Christmas when I should be reading Christmas Horror novels is a mystery to me.

Nightstalkers picks up shortly after the events of Hell's Aquarium. Thanks to all those eaten by the Megs, the Tanaka Institute is being inundated with lawsuits that are driving the institute into bankruptcy. Add to that the stress of knowing Angel's offsprings Bela and Lizzy are loose, so to say the situation is creating a strain on Jonas and Terry's marriage would be an understatement. David, Jonas's son, is depressed and suicidal over the death of his girlfriend, who was eaten by a Liopleurodon, and he feels that the only way to free himself from the nightmare he's trapped in is to kill the creature that caused it. What follows is more of what we've come to love about the Meg series -- aquatic dinosaurs long thought extinct wreaking havoc and eating people to their heart's content.

Reading one of the Meg books with its recurring cast of characters is like visiting with old friends. Fast-paced and action-packed, these books always hold me in their thrall. The only problem I had with this particular entry is the presence of Zachary Wallace, the central character of Alten's The Loch and its sequel, Vostok. Now, I loved The Loch, but Alten jumped the megalodon with Vostok, bringing in aliens, UFOs, and time travel, and, unfortunately, the author drags all that baggage into Nightstalkers, earning a number of eye rolls from me and causes enough of a distraction to lose half a star from the total rating, bringing what could've been a 5 star read to a 4.5. Don't let that minor glitch dissuade you from diving in and swimming with the megs. If you like creature features, or if you like plain ol' dinosaur mayhem, I definitely recommend checking out this series. 

They're Coming to Get You, Barbara...

Though thankfully, there's no Barbara within these pages. That would've been a bit much.

As much as I feel there's an oversaturation of zombie fiction out there, zombies will always have a special place in my heart because the first short story that I ever had published was a piece of zombie fiction. As a result, I sometimes feel the need to take a trip into some zombie-fied landscape, and what better trip to take than to take one created by the father of the modern zombie movement, George Romero.

The Living Dead by George A. Romero and Daniel Kraus has been sitting in my TBR since the day it was published (August 4, 2020), but the itch to delve into another zombie-infested world eluded me until recently.Mind you, I was going into this book blind, having read nothing about it until the day I cracked the book open, so I can honestly say I had no idea what to expect going in. Would we be seeing the outbreak from the beginning, or since Romero's zombies have been around since 1968, would we be jumping in decades into the outbreak? I won't keep you in suspense -- we're witnessing the beginning of the outbreak. And the year isn't 1968. It's more contemporary -- 2023. October, to be exact.

Early on, I almost put the book aside several times. It felt plodding and directionless. Why? We were introduced to a large cast of characters and given backstory for just about every character introduced. You would just be getting caught up in the action, then suddenly have to put on the brakes on as we're provided their backstory. Even characters that are introduced and killed off within the same chapter have an extensive history that we learn before they die. Then, about halfway through, there's a time jump of ten years and we're given a year by year summary of things Etta Hoffman has learned and documented. While interesting, it's just slightly less tedious that the first half of the book. Then there's another time jump, this time only four or five years, at which point many of the characters we were introduced to in the first part have come together, and it is here where the story starts gathering steam. While the first half took me several weeks to get through, I finished the second half in a matter of days, and it's for that reason I would recommend it. But it's not for everyone. Why?

First off, if you're one who likes a happily ever after ending, DO NOT read this book. It's bleak as hell, and it paints a rather dismal picture of humanity. Second, if you're one of these "I'm only 20 pages in, but can you let me know if it gets better" readers, DO NOT read this book. As I already stated, the book is slow and plodding in the beginning and you'll be asking that question with every chapter. It's saying something when I contemplate putting a book aside (which would never really happen. I tend to finish what I start, and there's only a handful of books that I actually ended up not finishing). And third, if gore turns your stomach and makes you want to stop reading, DO NOT read this book. While it's tame when you compare it to today's extreme horror fiction, it does have its moments. BUT if you're a fan of all things zombie, then this one is definitely worth checking out. 4/5 stars

Here's to the Ladies who Lunch... and Slay

I first became aware of Grady Hendrix a number of years ago, when he gave his Paperbacks from Hell presentation at a Writer's Retreat I attended, and the man was funny. Downright hysterical. I don't remember the last time I laughed so hard. So naturally, I assumed his books would be just as funny. So on my next trip to the bookstore, I grabbed a copy if Horrorstor... And hated it. The book just wasn't funny. No, wait... I take that back. There were maybe two funny lines in the entire book, and they occurred very early on in the book. Like maybe Chapter 1. Possibly Chapter 2. The rest was a slog with a bunch of very unlikable characters. I wanted to give the author another chance, though. I mean, everyone is entitled to have an off day (off book), so it was with some reluctance that I picked up The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires. It was described as Steel Magnolias meets Dracula,and I like both of those, and while it didn't WOW! me, it did end up enjoying it more than my previous exursion into Hendrix Country.

The premise is nothing new: handsome stranger (James Harris), who is not who or what he claims to be, worms his way into the lives of a close-knit community, while on the outskirts of town, children are either disppearing or committing suicide. The events happen to coincide with each other, but is he responsible? Patricia Campbell eventually stumbles onto the man's secret and takes it to her book club, and it's up to them to put an end to his reign of terror. But it's not as simple as it sounds because Patricia can't come right out and say the man is a vampire. Who would believe here? They don't even want to believe her when she accuses the man of being a child molester and a drug pusher who's selling drugs to children. It takes her three years to finally gather enough evidence, but even then they're reluctant to believe her because Mr. Harris has so firmly ingrained within their circle as an upstanding citizen, best friend and business partner to their husbands, and becomes idolized by their children. And as long as he doesn't hurt those within the community, that he continues to target the "poor" part of town, they're content to look the other way. But Patricia won't let it rest, and it's only when he attacks one of the book club members and sets his sights on Patricia's children that they decide something needs to be done.

While the book isn't as funny as I wanted it to be after seeing Hendrix's presentation, it does have its moments that had me chuckling, and it was 100x better than Horrorstor. There's a large cast of characters you need to keep track of, not all of which are likeable, but if feel like Hendrix drew a line on the floor and told all the good characters need to be on one side, and the bad characters on the other, and after everyone had chosen their sides, it's pretty much guys vs girls, which pretty much reflects the southern society of the time. I did find the pacing to be inconsistent. The book starts of strong, but about halfway through, it flatlines, at least for me (at this point I almost put the book aside), and doesn't pick up again until you're about three-quarters of the way through, at which point it moves like an express train toward the climax. Would I recommend it? If you only read "serious" horror, I don't think this is the book for you, but if you don't mind your horror on the light side with a smattering of humor, it's definitely worth checking out. 4/5 stars

But now I need a tie breaker. Which Hendrix book should I read next? Hmmmm... 

Hollywood Kills

 Some of my more recent reads have been about serial killers stalking film and TV sets and killing off cast, crew, and extras, so I knew it was only a matter of time before I stumbled across another one, and stumble I did with Chuck Tingle's Bury Your Gays. In all honesty, I was quite sure what to expect with this. Thanks to Amazon's screwed-up algorithm, I've seen some of his books online when browsing the horror selections, and a good portion of them are gay erotica with very outrageous titles. And I do vaguely remember some brouhaha a few years ago when he was nominated for some science fiction/fantasy award. So to say I wasn't expecting much would be an understatement. Boy, was I surprised.

The book tells the story of Misha Byrne, a relatively well-known screenwriter with some movies under his belt, a popular streaming series, and a short film that's earned him an Oscar nomination. In short, his star is finally rising -- until he is called in to meet with one of the studio executives, who proceeds to shatter his dreams by telling him the higher-ups want him to kill off two of his characters, who happen to be lesbians. The old trope that says gays and lesbians can never have a happy ending, that as soon as something good happens to them, tragedy MUST strike. Of course, Misha refuses, as this was something he's been building to ever since the series started. He's not going to bring them together, only to kill them off. There are the thinly veiled threats, but Misha plans to stick to his guns. Instead of being thrilled about his Oscar nomination and the upcoming award ceremony, he's stewing in a cloud of anger and fear, angry that if he doesn't do what the studio is telling him to do, he'll "never work in this town again." And if that isn't enough, he suddenly finds himself being stalked by crazed fans dressed as some of his horror creations. But are they simply crazed fans, or is the studio behind it, trying to scare him into doing what they want? Or is it something else? 

I really liked this one. It was well-written, populated with a cast of likable characters, and had the perfect balance of humor and horror (and I'm usually not a fan of horror comedy because it's so hard to do well). It moved along at a brisk pace, and took some turns I totally wasn't expecting. I mean, I thought I had it all figured out, but Tingle totally surprised me. Is it a little over the top? Of course, it is, but isn't all horror to some extent? If you're a fan of horror comedy, this one is definitely worth checking out. My only complaint? I personally would have liked to have seen a high body count and a little more gore. 4.5/5

Return to Hill House

Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House is a classic of the horror genre, as is its 1963 film adaptation, and is considered a Must Read/See for any horror enthusiast. So when I heard that there was an authorized sequel, Elizabeth Hand's A Haunting on the Hill, I knew it was one I was going to have to check out. And what better time to do it than at the start of what folks call the Spooky Season, when many avid readers, especially ones who don't normally read horror fiction, set out to find the creepiest, most horrifying reads to devour leading up to the best holiday of all -- Halloween.

Shirley Jackson has already set the stage for Elizabeth Hand's novel: a creepy old mansion with a dark history located on the outskirts of Hillsdale, geographic location not specified, although it's assumed the town is somewhere in the New England area. Don't know why, but I always assumed it was upstate New York.

In Hand's novel, we find a small group of theater people renting out Hill House for two weeks to workshop a a dark, supernatural play, much the the dismay of the "groundskeeper," Evadne Morris, and her niece, Melissa Libby, both of whom know the house's dark history. They try warning away Holly and her group, dropping menacing hints about the bad shit that's gone down in the past, but never once coming right out and saying what exactly those things were. Even Ainsley Rowan, the realtor (and owner) for Hill House, who also has knowledge of the house's history, doesn't try too hard to dissuade the playwright from renting the house. Not even the rental contract, full of enough clauses and disclaimers freeing her from... well, from anything that might befall the party, is enough to keep Holly from going ahead with the rental. It's almost as if something is preventing them from saying too much.

From the moment they set foot in Hill House, things begin to happen, subtle at first, that the group excuses away, each for their own reasons. And therein lies the problen with Hand's novel. Don't get me wrong... I enjoyed the book immensely, but there was something lacking, and that was the subtle escalation of events that build to the climax. Also missing is the strong psychological twisting and mental decline that Jackson did so masterfully that had the reader wondering: Is Nell a little unhinged (she was) or was it the house (it was)? Hand fails to deliver to us a fragile Nell-like character for the house to play with, and as a result, while we read on to find out what happens, we never become fully invested in any of the characters, not to the point we were with Jackson's Nell, and while we want to know what happens to them, we never truly fear for them.

The other thing I found mildly disappointing was the lack of reference to Jackson's original work. Here you have an authorized sequel, but never once are there specific references to the events that transpired all those years ago. They're alluded to, like the car and the stump, but there's nothing specific. Not even Stevie, when he recounts what he's learned from Googling Hill House, mentions Markway, Nell, or any of the events at that time. He mentions more recent transient residents of the house, but nothing about those events nor of the history of the house itself and the tragedy of the original family.

Those things aside, it shouldn't prevent you from enjoying Hand's novel for what it is -- a mildly creepy haunted house story. I would suggest listening to the audiobook on this one (I did), as the sound effects and hearing the old folk songs sung create a sense of atmosphere that brings out the spookiness of the narrative. More than once I found myself looking around for the source of sounds before realizing they were coming from the book itself, which was just a tad bit unsettling, making it the ideal book to start off the Spooky Season with. 4.5/5 stars  

I'll Get You, My Pretty...

 When I first happened across this, I knew it was going to be a Must Read. There are nearly enough books about witches. My only problem is, based soley on the cover (Never judge a book by its cover), I thought it was going to be a whimsical fairytale type story. Boy, was I ever wrong. Brom's Slewfoot: a tale of bewitchery is brutal, and I mean that in a good way.

Slewfoot offers a view of puritanical New England, a place where women had no rights and were treated only slightly better than the servants, where a slip of hair from the bonnet, or showing too much wrist or ankle or, God forbid, cleavage could earn you a night in the stocks, and possibly a turn at the whipping post. Any sign of what is considered disrepect toward the men folk can land you a jail stay. Or worse, as Abitha Williams is soon to find out.

Abitha is an England transplant, sold into marriage by her father. Her mother was a conjure woman, a woman versed in medicinal remedies and charms or blessings. Abitha, it seems, has inherited some of her mother's talent, but she needs to be very discreet, as knowledge and dabbling of this type could lead to an accusation of witchcraft. Edward, Elizabeth's husband, is a simple-minded man, maybe even "special,"; he's aware of her "talents," is unhappy that she dabbles but has not expressly forbid her from using her gift. When he does put his foot down, ordering her to do something, it's not done out of disrespect, but fear, fear for her safety, and fear for himself, because he knows he won't be abe to survive without her.

When the book opens, we're made aware of a presence on the Williams' acreage, and we know whatever it is craves blood, as Abitha's goat is one of the first victims. Jump to a confrontation between Edward and his brother, Wallace, who has put up Edward's farm as collateral against a venture that failed, and now the debt has to be paid. It seems that the farm is family land, and when the head of the Williams family passed, he left everything to Wallace. Edward is in the process of paying off the land, indeed, he only has one more payment to go, but under the knew ownership, it would mean he basically becomes a slave to the new owner. Abitha, never knowing when to keep her mouth shut, puts in her two cents (and rather forcefully, I might add), thus setting up the story-long conflict between Abitha and Wallace, which only escalates after Edward falls victim to whatever entity stalks the land, his body never to be found.

The beginning of Slewfoot starts off slow as relationships are established and the author paints a desolate picture of what life is like for women at this moment in history. After Edward's death, the story picks up as Abitha struggle to make the farm work while Wallace is doing everything within his power to see to it that she fails. Abitha gains certain allies along the way who make her question her faith, who slowly make Abitha aware that she possesses power and abilities she never knew she had. And through the struggles and hardships and trying to foil Wallace's attempts to claim her land, Abitha becomes a strong, independent woman, someone to be reckoned with, which is why Wallace has to resort to accusations of witchcraft to bring this woman to her knees. Or does he? And that's where the story really takes off. The tension rises during the course of the story and you can't help but keep turning the pages to the explosive climax.

With Slewfoot, the author has created a gripping narrative of power, privilege, and entitlement; of growth and self-discovery; of deceit and betrayal. It can also be looked at as a coming-of-age tale as Abitha comes into her own. It is a story that is at times heart-felt and at other times heart-breaking. A MUST READ. 5/5 stars

Wait for the Movie

Paul Tremblay is a name that's been on my radar, but I've never heard enough excitement surrounding his work to move him toward the top of my list. That is, until Horror Movie. And it's not so much that I've heard a lot of positive reviews but that fact that some of my recent reads have centered around horror movie sets and actors, extras, and crew being the targets of crazed killers, so I figured I'd add another to the list.

Horror Movie is two stories in one, each taking place years apart. The first one take place in June of 1993, when "a group of young guerilla filmmakers spent four weeks making Horror Movie, a notorious, disturbing, art-house horror flick," which feels more like a bunch of bored high school kids deciding they wanted to make a low-budget horror movie, a movie that ended in tragedy.

Jump to present day and the actor who played "The Thin Kid," who is the only survivor of the original group, is acting as a consultant for another group of film makers who are determined to finish what these kids started years ago. As a result, there are a lot of meetings taking place where not a lot happens. It's just a lot of talking, production talks, planning talks, actors reading through the script. During these talks, the book drags on and on and on. The only time the book gets remotely exciting is when the kids are filming and the "Big Reveal" at the end. The problem is, the reveal is lackluster and hardly worth the journey that we just trudged through.

I made the mistake of listening to this on audiobook, and there are some things that are probably intentionally added to the recording for "realism," but to me they came across as irritating glitches, the worst of which was the rattling of pages during the script readings that were annoying enough to break me out of the narration. Also, there was what I felt needless repetition during scene transitions which also sometimes came across as errors in the recording process. I wonder if my reception of the book would have been better if I had read the book as opposed to listening to it.

All in all, Horror Movie was a bore, and as this was my firstTremblay book, I wonder what his others will be like. Recommended? Nah, I'd wait for the movie. 2/5 stars. 

What Evil Lurks in the Hearts of Men

 

I first stumbled across Thomas Olde Heuvelt last year when I read Echo, which totally blew me away, so much so that I immediately added Hex to my ever-growing TBR pile but put off reading it until this year. You know the way of these TBR piles. But when I heard Oracle was a continuation of Robert Grim's story (or maybe a prequel), Hex moved up higher on my TBR. And if I thought Echo was an amazing read, Hex surpassed that.

Black Spring is an idyllic little town nestled in the Hudson Valley of New York State. On the outside, it appears life in this town is perfect, like you imagine small-town life would be. Think Mayberry, if you remember The Andy Griffith Show. They even have their own resident celebrity -- Katherine van Wyler, a centuries old witch who wanders the streets and drops in unexpectedly on families and often overstays her welcome.

You would think having a resident witch would be awesome, that they town would have a thriving tourist industry, that they would do everything they could to exploit the woman's presence since Katherine comes across as a curiosity more than anything else. She sticks to her routine, and for the most part, you could set your watch by the times she makes certain appearances about town and never appears to be outwardly threatening. But the woman and the town have a history, and history shows the witch could be unpredictable. As a result, they have certain rules and regulations that are religiously adhered to, and violations of these laws often result in archaic forms of punishment. They have a system in place that monitors the witch's appearance, and God forbid she should appear in public and hang around, they have measures in place to make certain outsiders do not become aware of her presence. They also attempt to keep out the outsiders, and those who ignore the warnings and decide to make Black Spring their home... Well, they've more or less signed their lives away, and the lives of their children, and their childrens' children, becauste, you see, what goes on in Black Spring stays in Black Spring. It's like a roach motel: you can visit, and all is well, but live in Black Spring and you can never leave. Any attempt to do so can result in insanity, and even death.

But as with any strictly regimented communities, there are those who seek to rebel. Aside from the few adults who resent their current living conditions, you have the teens, and in this particular case, a handful of teens who, in an age of social media, resent having their freedoms monitored or restricted and have established an underground society/club that is gathering evidence with the planes of going public with their dirty little secret. They think that by doing so, they will break the Black Spring curse and regain not just their freedom but those of the townsfolk as well. But there are those in town who are content to let sleeping dogs lie and will go to any extreme to make sure the town keeps it secrets.

I know some of the reviews for Hex have been negative, citing that the book is not scary. The book, however, is terrifying in that we are witness the extent to which superstition can govern a community, and any attempt at change can start the gradual unraveling of a civilized society until they are reduced to a primal mob mentality resistant to any form of logic or reasoning. It's made all the more horrifying by what is revealed at the book's conclusion.

Overall, I think Hex is small-town horror at its best. Heuvelt paints a chilling picture of what superstition and living in a constant state of fear can drive men to do, and how the tension of living with that constant fear can build until it finally explodes and how quickly civilized society can devolve to primitive levels. Highly recommended. 5/5 stars

It's a Mad House

Ever since I was a kid, I've loved Planet of the Apes. I've watched the movies numerous times, watched the TV series, the Saturday morning cartoon, and even loved the reboots, but I had never read the book the popular franchise was based on. Until now.

I wasn't sure what to expect, since the movie adaptations are NEVER faithful to the books, and was surprised to find that the differences take the book to the opposite end of the spectrum. The premises are the same, but the book is less brutal in some respects.

The premise is the same: astronauts land on a planet governed by apes and man is the beast. Where they diverge is in the beginning, which has two astronauts finding what amounts to a message in a bottle. Upon opening it, we get the account of Ulyssse Merou, a journalist who voyages into space with two others and a chimpanzee. Upon reaching their destination, they take a launch to the planet's surface (they don't crash), which is where they first encounter the feral breed of humans. The hunt is the same, but where they diverge is once Ulysse (Taylor in the movie) is captured. While the relationship with Zira and Cornelius is similar to that of the film, Ulysse eventually earns the apes' trust and wins his freedom and is able to walk freely among the apes. As a result, as you read, you'll recognize scenes from the movie, but they come with a twist or are slightly modified. And there's an even bigger surprise at the end (and no, he's not on a future version of Earth), which is how they originally wanted the movie to end, but they decided not to go in that direction. That particular twist is used in a later film. It would have been interesting to see what direction the films would have gone it had they gone with the original ending.

All in all, the book was a pleasant departure from the film I remember but had enough similarities as to stir up memories of my childhood. Even if you're familiar with the films, the book is definitely worth reading. For me, 5/5 stars.

Down the Rabbit Hole...

One of my favorite books when I was a kid was Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and through the Looking Glass. I remember my mother trying to dissuade me from reading it. It's not that she tried to censor our reading, so she would never forbid me from reading it, it's just that it was one book she couldn't get through. All the "Eat Me" and "Drink Me" and shrinking and growing and telescoping necks... She just preferred her books more reality based. But when I saw Christina Henry's Alice, I knew it was something I was going to have to check out, moreso because the reviews for it seemed to be all over the place.

The premise for the book comes across as a sequel. Alice, now 26, has been locked away in an asylum. She doesn't recall why she's there; all she can vaguely remember is "...a tea party long ago, and long ears, and blood..." Her family no longer visits, and the only companion she has is the man in the next cell, a man named Hatch, and they communicate through a mouse hole in the wall between the two cells. When I fire breaks out at the hospital, Alice and Hatch escape, but so does the fearsome, nightmarish creature called the Jabberwock, to which Hatch has some kind of weird connection. And thus the adventures through Old City begin, as they search for the only weapon that can destroy the Jabberwock. Their adventure eventually leads to a long past due confrontation between Alice and The Rabbit, a crime boss responsible for scarring Alice's face, and finally a showdown with the Jabberwock.

The thing that strikes me after reading the reviews is so many people see this as a reimaging or a retelling of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. What they seem to so obviously miss is this is intended/presented as a sequel, and as such, you expect to meet a lot of familiar characters. And you do. In name only. For folk familiar with Alice's story, this is how we remember the Cheshire Cat.

And if you only know the story through the Disney adaptation, he's a purplish cat with an ear-to-ear grin. In Christina Henry's sequel, Cheshire is a man, whose symbol is a cat. Likewise The Walrus, The Carpenter, The Caterpillar, and The Rabbit. They're all men. So imagine my disappointment when I encountered all these "creatures" in Alice. As a retelling/reimaging that draws inspiration from Carroll's masterpiece, I would find this acceptable. But as a SEQUEL? Absolutely not. And thus the dilemma. How to rate Christina Henry's book...

On a personal level, I HATED it. I know HATE is a strong word, but I can't help feeling that the author and publisher intentionally misled potential readers into what to expect. Did they expect those of us who went in expecting to be reunited with familiar characters to just shrug aside our disappointment once we got involved in the book and found out we were lied to? Not gonna happen. BUT...

Is it a bad book? No. It's just not what I expected going in. As a reimaging/retelling, I feel it's rather creative and intriguing. BUT if it was meant as a reimaging of Carroll's novel, then it should have started at the beginning, with Alice's first adventure through Old City (Wonderland), all the initial encounters, the betrayals, and not years afterward.

And this is where I wish I could dual star this one. Personally, for me (and most reviews/ratings are done on a personal level), it's a 1-star read, but objectively, I'd give it 4 stars. So take it from there.

I Want My Mummy

 When I needed a Mummy book for part of a GoodReads challenge, my mind immediately went to Stoker's The Jewel of Seven Stars, but then I was like, "Curses, foiled again," because I read that last year. For some reasons, mummies aren't big in horror fiction. On the screen, yes, but on the printed page... Well, the pickings are slim. And thus the search began. Eventually, I stumbled across Ragman by JG Faherty, and two things sold me on this book. Besides the fact that it was about mummies, the deciding factor was that it took place in NYC. As a native New Yorker, I'm a sucker for anything that takes place in and around the Big Apple.

The book opens in Egypt, 1888, where we witness a group of men descecrating the ruins of a temple and killing one of the priests, allowing them to get away with artifacts stolen from the premises. As always happens among friends when money is in the picture, there's treachery, and one man ends up taking the fall for all of them.

Jump to present day, New York City, where we witness the awakening of Ahmes the Second, High Priest of Sokar, risen from the dead to carry out a blood oath. One year later, someone is killing homeless people, literally sucking the lives right out of them. Elsewhere in the city, someone is killing of some of society's elite gentlemen, literally ripping them apart. Tom Reardon, a retired/disgraced detective now working security detail, answers a cry for help against his better judgement. After all, he's not a cop anymore, but a deeply rooted sense of duty has him springing into action. It almost costs him his life. Later, at the precinct, after giving his statement, he comes face to face with his old partner, Daniel Reese. There's history between the two, some good, some bad, and it's the bad that overshadows their reunion. Reese is responsible for investigating the Ragman murders, the death of the elite gentlemen, one of whom will turn out to be Reardon's employer. As a result, the two former friends are forced to work together to try to find out who is behind the killings before anyone else dies. They don't do a very good job of it, not at first, but what can you expect when two men firmly rooted in reality are forced to confront the supernatural. It isn't until they become targets themselves that they begin to accept the fact that what they are dealing with isn't exactly human. And how do the brutal murders tie in to the string of homeless murders?

Ragman isn't an out-and-out horror novel, but a combination of who-dunnit and Friday the 13th, part mystery/part slasher fiction that's heavy on the supernatural. It's well paced and the characters are likeable enough. Reardon comes across as an Everyman, far from perfect, able to make mistakes and accept the consequences of his actions, which makes him more relateable. Reese, on the other hand, is an extreme character, in that he reacts more emotionally to things than Reardon, and as a result, tends to harbor grudges that border on the irrational. As a result, it takes a while to warm up to Reese as a character. There are times, I must admit, where I kind of wished Reese had fallen victim to the Ragman so I don't have to deal with the whiny, angsty emotions he's struggling with. But by the end, you're rooting for the pair like they were Batman and Robin.

Overall, I enjoyed the book, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its share of issues. I tend to visualize while I read. What I mean by that is the scene unfolds like a movie screen in my mind. As a result, there were a few details in the beginning that threw me as not being possible (yeah, I know we're dealing with a supernatural slasher, so nothing is actually possible), but these were details rooted in reality, minor details that made me go, "Huh?" And then there were the eye-roll moments, which, for me, is when one of the characters took a tour of the Other Side. I had the same problem with the movie Insidious. I thought it was great---until the characters ventured over to the other side. That's where it lost me. Thankfully, though, in Ragman, this is a mercifully short visit before we're thrust back to the "reality" of Faherty's world.

If you're a fan of mysteries, slashers, or supernatural thrillers, this is one I would definitely recommend. 4/5 stars

It's Always the Quiet Ones

Jasper Bark's Quiet Places is another book I stumbled upon while looking for a "Q" title for a reading challenge. Well, that's not entirely true. I'd seen it mentioned occasionally in the various Facebook groups I belong to, but it never crossed my mind until I saw it among the Amazon listings. I also needed a Cosmic Horror read for another challenge, so I figured it's a way to kill two birds with one stone.

Quiet Places is Sally's story. It tells of her life before before and after her move to Dunballan, and what befell her lover, David, once they were settled. To the outsider, Dunballan seems rather idyllic -- and isolated town tucked away deep in the woods that rarely, if ever, gets any visitors. So how did a young woman from London end up in such a secluded, out-of-the-way place? It seems it's her boyfriend's ancestral home. And when his uncle passes away and leaves the entire estate to him, it's his familial duty to take up residence. This is a big change for Sally, in more ways than one. Even though she and David have been together for a number of years, they have never cohabitated. And you get the impression she's a city girl at heart. So her life is about to enter a period of great upheaval, as she agrees to make the move with David.

Almost from the start, Sally realizes there's something not quite right about Dunballan. For one thing, David, who often experiences periods of emotional distance, becomes even more withdrawn. Then there's the way the townsfolk huddle together whenever Sally's around, whispering secrets Sally isn't privy to as they eye here with... Sympathy? Suspicion? She is, afterall, an outsider. Then there's the mysterious beast that seems to be stalking David. Not menacingly. Almost as if it's keeping an eye on him, making sure he stays where he belongs. In Dunballan. And finally there's the whisperings coming from the hedgerows. Whisper that seduce Sally, and promise that if she does what it asks, she'll get her David back.

Little by little, Sally uncovers the secrets of Dunballan, but will she learn everything she needs to know in time to save David?

With Quiet Places, Jasper Bark has created a riveting tale that keeps you on the edge of your seat, reading late into the night. But it's not because you care about the characters (personally, I didn't find any of the characters particularly likable), but because you, as the reader, want to know the town's secrets. If you've read enough folk horror, what happens between the covers of the book probably doesn't come as much of a surprise, but if you're relatively new to the sub-genre, then you're in for a bit of a treat. And if you're good at putting the pieces together, you'll be able to figure out what's going on within the town before Sally does, and you'll be sitting there hoping she comes to the same conclusions you've already arrived at.

All in all, I enjoyed Quiet Places, and I would recommend it, even though I do have one MAJOR gripe -- and that's that there's no big surprise at the end. Bark gives away the ending at the very beginning, so no matter what happens during the course of the story, you already know the outcome. The only reason you keep reading is to see how and why this is the outcome. To create a sense of mystery and not spoil the ending, I think it would have been better had the author started with the news of David's inheritance; this way, we're with Sally from the very beginning, rather than starting it the way he does. You don't even get the impression that this is the hook to keep readers reading, in that it lacks the excitement you would be looking for with a hook.

Bargain Basement Read

I stumbled across this one while browsing through the horror titles on Amazon, looking for something that started with a "P" for a reading challenge. The premise sounded interesting -- three novellas written by three authors based on the same writing prompt. I thought it would be interesting to see where each author ran with the bone they were given. Well, rather than give a blanket review of the work in general, I'll tackle each novella in turn.

The first novella in the collection is "The Survivor" by Chisto Healy. I knew from the first few pages that this was going to be a slog. First off, and this is just a personal opinion, the character names don't fit the characters or their professions. Paulie Paisano and Sal "Guido" Corelli sound like they should be gangsters, so when you find out they're a pair of cops, you're like, "Huh?" Everything about them is un-coplike, and they come across as low-budget Keystone Cops. The author doesn't appear to have any knowledge of police procedures, and the dialogue is laughably juvenile. Likewise, the interactions between Paulie and his wife. The whole thing is awkwardly written, and I mean that in a bad way, as if the author was uncomfortable writing the scene, not that the characters themselves were uncomfortable. Then there's the obvious lack of editing. It's the little things that make me want to grab a red pen and re-edit the piece -- things like allowing the use ground when it's obvious floor is meant. It's things like that that really pull me out of the story. The character is sitting on the ground of the shower; I find that jarring enough because I'm suddenly picturing an outdoor shower.

And, unfortunately, that's as far as I got. It's rare for me to not finish a book that I start, but when you have a collection like this, the publisher would traditionally start off with the strongest work and end with a strong piece, and if "The Survivor" is the strongest story, then I can only imagine what the others are like. So slash this one off your shopping list and keep looking.

There's No Such Thing as Ghosts, Right?

There's no such thing as ghosts, right? Try telling that to Lilian Chesterfield, her associate Dave, and Captain Moses Akinyemi, a retired military medic. These are the central characters in The House at Phantom Park by Graham Masterton. You may as well add Alex Fowler to that list because, in this particular story, he's the first to encounter the spirits inhabiting St. Philomena's, an abandoned hospital that is soon to be turned into luxury apartments.

Alex's encounter with the spirits leaves him in excruciating pain that seems to have no end. Not even medications and an induced coma can keep him from giving voice to the pain. Amongst his howls, groans, and tormented screams, he keeps asking for Captain Akinyemi, a man he's never met but someone he seems to know very well. When Moses arrives, we learn that Alex claims to be a Corporal Terrence Simons, a man Moses treated in Afghanistan, but Moses insists he's never met the man before in his life.

Meanwhile, back at St. Philomena's, enter Charlene"Charlie" Thorndyke, Alex's replacement, who, while making her rounds of the abandoned hospital, also has an encounter with the spirits that leaves her in a statement of rigidity, as if she'd been carved from stone. At the hospital, she also asks for Moses, although she uses the name Mingus, a nickname he had while serving in Afghanistan. The mystery only deepens when Alex and Charlie die, but not before passing on their afflictions to their caregivers. What is the connection between the retired army medic, these two young surveyors, and the abandoned hospital? Moses intends to find out and pays a visit to St. Philomena's, where he encounters Lilian and David, who are being tormented by all the usual haunted house trappings -- slamming doors, moans, groan, and whispers. David is convinced te place is haunted, and Lilian believes steadfastly that the events are being caused by locals who are against St. Philomena's being turned into luxury apartments. Together they set out to solve the mystery of St. Philomena's.

The House at Phantom Park contains all the trappings of a typical haunted house tale, but Masterton takes it several steps further, creating a hellscape for the tortured spirits inhabiting the hospital that's rather heartbreaking. The characters, for the most part, are likeable enough, although Lilian was getting on my every last nerve, which is a shame, as she in the centralmost character, and she also happens to be the least believable of the entire cast. Masterton maintains an steady pace with the narrative, with only the occasional hiccup, and by that I mean there's some needlessly repetitious lines and statements that are close enough together as to be noticeable, which can sometimes cause a distraction. And while I'm assuming Masteron uses it to establish setting/timeframe for the story, all the references to Covid come across as a heavy-handed means of doing so, especially since Covid has nothing to do with the story itself. At the first mention, you shrug and think, Okay, so this is present day, more or less, but when it's mentioned again and again, the reader is left waiting to see how it's going to tie in to the story, and it never does. However, these few speedbumps, while noticeable at the time, weren't enough to pull me out of the story.

All in all, I enjoyed Graham Masterton's The House at Phantom Park, and I would recommend it if you're looking for a haunted house tale with a twist. Rating: 4 stars out of 5.

 

Tries too Hard to be Shocking

This title has been floating around the book groups on Facebook for a while now, and, considering how I feel about animal cruelty (even in fiction), I had some reservations about diving in. It was never far from my radar, though, and this year is the year I decided to take the plunge.

I wasn't sure what to expect going in, as I had heard no particulars about the book, only that it was vile, disgusting, gross... You get the picture. Folks said the same thing about Duncan Ralston's WOOM and Chandler Morrison's Dead Inside, both of which were, while extreme, not as bad as I was led to believe. Well... Matthew Stokoe's Cows certainly delivered, but not in the ways you might expect.

There are two parallel storylines in Cows, one more extreme than the other. You have the domestic story, which tells of Steven's dysfunctional home life, with a mother who hates him and who he, in turn, hates, and an ancient dog on its last legs. There's the love interest, an equally disturbed and dysfunctional young woman who lives in the same building. And then there's the worklife at the slaughterhouse, where Steven appears to thrive. And while the domestic side of the tale is disturbing in its own right, the work storyline is where the story goes off the deep end. Among the debauchery that takes place within the walls of the slaughterhouse, there's a talking cow that has somehow evaded slaughter, as well as a whole herd of cows living beneath the streets.

I'm not going to go into story too much, as I don't think you'd believe me if I tried. Suffice it to say, you need to read (actually, you really don't --but if you choose to, don't say I didn't warn you) this to believe it. I'm sure you'd much rather have another question answered, and that is, Was it as disgusting and vile as folks have made it out to be? Yes. And therein lies the MAJOR problem I had with Cows.

The story in and of itself wouldn't be bad if it had been told in a straightforward manner, but add in the atrocities and it ends up having the opposite effect of what's intended, becoming instead something of an exercise in eyerolls. It seems Stokoe's focus in Cows is to outdo what he's done previously in his attempt to gross you out, to one-up himself, and you can't help but laugh. You certainly can't take it seriously. It all becomes a tad predictable (in regards to his relationship, I called that ending the moment the romance began), and it becomes a game, trying to guess what gross misdeeds the author will come up with next. And because of this, the writing comes across as juvenile, the thing junior high students will write and titter about in the corner of the library. The vile acts that occur within the novella lack the organic nature found in other extreme horror works that I've read, in that they don't arise naturally from the narrative, but rather come across as forced, crammed in like puzzle pieces in the wrong places.

Would I recommend it? Not particularly. Why? Because reading is supposed to be pleasurable, and I found nothing pleasurable about Cows. However, if you feel you need to read it because of its cult status, then by all means, go ahead. I won't try to dissuade you. But as for extreme horror, there are other, better-written works out there in which to invest your time.

It's All Fun and Games Until Somebody Dies, and Even Then...

Ghostland by Duncan Ralston is one of those books that everybody was raving about on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. I knew it was one I was eventually going to have to check out, so it was added to the TBR list and forced to wait until the mood hit me. And eventually, it did.

One of the questions I've seen posted on Twitter for the writing community is: Can a location be a character? In Ghostland, the location is Garrotte House, and it is indeed one of the characters. In the very beginning, we see Garrotte House being relocated-- That's right. The entire house has been removed from its original location and is being located to Duck Falls, Maryland, where it is to be the star attraction in a new themed attraction -- Ghostland. Garrote House belonged to Rex Garrote, an infamous horror author with a fascination with the occult who killed himself within the house. Witnessing this event are Ben Laramie and Lillian Roth. But Garrote house isn't unoccupied, and Ben knows who the occupant is. The shock of it is enough to trigger a fatal heart attack. That's right. Before the Prologue is over, one of our central characters, Ben, is dead.

At the start of Chapter 1, we find that Ben is very much alive, having been resuscitated and is considered to be frail. Any sort of excitement will more than likely trigger another heart attack, and this time he might not be so lucky. We also find that he and his BFF, Lillian, are no longer forever friends, as she can't come to grips with Ben's death and resurrection. She has issues with death, issues that she is in therapy for, and Ben's presence is a constant reminder of that. Given the physical and emotional baggage both kids are carrying, it's surprising to find that they mend their relationship enough to take a trip to Ghostland on opening day. Lillian is hoping to get a handle on her issues with death by exposing herself to the assortment of haunted properties population Ghostland. These are just haunted houses; they're haunted houses with histories, rather bloody, deadly histories. You see, the owners of Ghostland are in possession of technology that not only makes ghosts visible, but more or less keeps them imprisoned within their respective haunts. Unbeknownst to Lillian, Ben's reason for going is to destroy Garrote House. He suspects that Rex Garrote is alive and living within the house, and he (Garrote) is determined to follow through with the plans outlined in one of his books, and that is to open the doorway to the other side to allow the spirits to come through and create their Hell on Earth.

Opening day at a theme park that, through the magic of modern technology, keeps the ghosts on display like so many cage-crazy zoo animals, what could possibly go wrong? Before you can say Casper the Friendly Ghost, the park is on lockdown, and nobody is allowed in or out. That includes the ghosts, who are once again trapped within this giant snowglobe (minus the snow) by a containment field. Also trapped behind the park's walls are Lillian and Ben and hundreds of other people, all trying to find a way out before the ghosts start using them as target practive.

When I started reading Ghostland, despite the age of the characters, I wasn't expecting a young adult (YA) novel, but that's what I got, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. I just wasn't expecting it. And just because it's YA, that doesn't mean Ralston holds back on the blood, guts, and gore, because he doesn't. He's also created a wonderful cast of characters (good guys and bad guys) that you quickly become invested in, and you are often left sitting on the edge of your seat hoping, as they battle ghost after ghost after ghost, that they come out of this unscathed, especially considering Ben's delicate condition. There's also an assortment of secondary characters, both living and dead, some of who become unlikely allies as they attempt to escape from Ghostland. The pacing is relentless, and you are quickly swept up in the events as they unfold, and should you find yourself reading this on a day off from work or on the weekend, it's very likely you might finish this book in one sitting because once Garrote House has you under its spell, it doesn't want to let you go.

Don't let the idea that this is a YA novel dissuade you from picking it up. Ralston doesn't dumb down the narrative, like I've seen done in so many YA books, so even adults can enjoy this ghostly tale. Just be forwarned... This is the first of a trilogy.

Camp Was Never Like This

Sometimes a cover just speaks to you, and other times it friggin' screams. The cover of Eric David Roman's Long Night at Lake Never was definitely a screamer.

Based on the description on Amazon, you know right away you're going to be spending the next few hours at camp. But this ain't no regular camp full of canoe races, archery ranges, and all the fun times that go with it. The campers at Camp Horizons don't want to be there. Well... most of them. You see, there are two requirements to attend this camp. One, you have to be either a gay or lesbian youth, and two, your parents must think there's something wrong with you and want you fixed. I mean, why else would they relinquish all parental rights for the next two weeks, or however long the "Journey" might take. That's right. Camp Horizons is a conversion camp, where the counselors attempt to pray the gay away. As if the idea of a religious conversion camp isn't scary enough, add to it a dark secret from the camp's past, one no one wants to talk about, and a Friday the 13th-type killer roaming the woods.

The stars of Long Night at Lake Never are Tyler Wills, an attractive young man who likes and accepts his sexuality and has an attitude against those who think there's something wrong with him just because he's gay and has every intention of either leaving the camp or getting himself thrown out; Jamal, a fierce queen who also appears to be self-accepting; Myer, a nerdy youth who wants to be cured; and Chris, a jock type who's not exactly sure of his sexuality. You also have Bob, who runs the camp, and a cast of young men and women in the role of counselors (who I call cannon fodder). With the exception of one young woman, all of the staff are former campers who have been "cured."

Once the stage has been set, Roman wastes no time spilling blood, as two camp counselors are brutally dispatched. We also learn at this point that these two are not the first victims of the killer, whose motive behind his killing spree will be revealed later in the book, as we catch glimpses of his earlier kills. Roman has also created a likable cast of characters (for the most part), and you can't wait until the villain(s) (Bob and his cronies) are sent to meet their maker.

I honestly didn't know what to expect from this book, as I wasn't familiar with the author, but that cover screamed "Read me!" so loudly that I couldn't ignore it. I was going in totally blind and with zero expectations. What I got was a throwback to my youth, when I would sit on the edge of my seat in front of the TV with a worn VHS tape in the VCR and a teen slasher unfolding on the screen. The only difference being that while I was rooting for the killer, I was also rooting for the campers, who already had their hands full battling the baddies running the camp. Long Night at Lake Never gets 5 stars from me, and if you're a slasher fan, I would highly recommend picking up a copy and spending the next few hours at camp.