Exiles

Andrew Pyper (1968-2025) received a B.A. And M.A. in English Literature from McGill University and earned a law degree from the University of Toronto. Instead of pursuing a career as an attorney, Pyper became a full-time novelist, writing 15 novels including, The Demonologist, a 2013 novel that won the International Thriller Writers Award for Best Hardcover Novel. As Mason Coile, Pyper wrote two darker science-fiction titles, William (2024) and Exiles (2025), the latter of which he wrote while battling terminal cancer. Pyper passed away on January 3rd, less than four months after Exiles release date. 

As Coile, Pyper took on a type of gritty, horror-related storyteller role, evident in his cutting-edge AI haunted house novel William. While Exiles isn't a sequel to the book, it still serves as a sort of literary sibling. Both books contain plots in which everyday people are trapped in structures with an evolved homicidal AI. Granted, there are a lot of AI-related films and movies, so the plot isn't necessarily innovative or unique. But Pyper could write well, and his prose is easy to devour, making Exiles a book I was really looking forward to. Be careful what you wish for. 

Exiles stars three astronauts – Blake, Kang, and protagonist Dana – on mankind's first landing on Mars. Their trip, seven months in hibernation aboard a spaceship, is closely monitored by millions of personnel to achieve success. Before the three arrive, a grandiose mission was launched with an assemblage of rovers and worker bots building  Citadel, a cross-shaped facility where the three astronauts will live while preparing humans for future missions to the red planet. The mission is for these three to land their pod, make a short journey to the facility, meet the trio of worker bots, and begin a two-to-three year study and preparation event. However, these sorts of things never go as planned in survival horror.

After a roller coaster landing, the three make it to Citadel and discover two worker bots that have begun to achieve a type of false humanity. These bots have assigned themselves genders, express emotional feelings, and seemingly want to return to Earth. The astronauts are equally shocked and perplexed by the bots' ability (or inability) to become “human”. But the bots, who call themselves Shay and Wes, are also afraid of what is outside the facility. Their description of an alien creature is terrifying to the crew. But, as things get weird – and then weirder – it seems as though the third worker bot might be a homicidal maniac, a crazed machine called Alex. This plot device transforms Exiles into a locked-room mystery set aboard this space facility. 

While this story sounds great, Pyper's characters are irritating. These three were picked as the best of the best, the ultimate representation of Earth transported to Mars. Yet they behave in obnoxious ways, curse every piece of dialogue, and behave like teenagers despite their stellar technical education. Dana is the worst of the trio, and unfortunately the reader rides in her mind and experiences her conscious thoughts. Pyper tries to make the book more dynamic by revealing pieces of Dana's childhood and a mystery involving her mother, but it just never worked for me. Also, the whole concept doesn't provide any answers to the AI problem, just more examples of machined intelligence gone wild. Lots of media positions the problem, but I need author commentary on how to fix the problem (besides crushing the mad robot in a pit). 

Exiles is an okay novel that could have been something special. Instead, poor characters, a bland second act, and the isolation all combine to make the novel one long snooze fest. Your mileage may vary, proceed at your own risk.

Get the book HERE.

Cry for the Strangers

There is a scene near the end of Cry for the Strangers in which John Saul describes his book perfectly. One character is saying to the other, “And I'll tell you something else – I don't think he's ever going to make sense out of this mess. I'm not sure there is any sense.” Interestingly enough, the characters seem to be having a discussion about their creator, John Saul himself. They are accurate in their assessment. Nothing in this book makes any sense because I'm positive the author himself has no idea what the book is about. 

Cry for the Strangers may be John Saul's most notable book. It was published in 1979 by Dell, reached bestseller status with the rest of his bibliography, and was adapted into a CBS movie-of-the-week starring Patrick Duffy and Brian Keith. It's a familiar formula for Saul, the one where the town's outsiders stumble upon a wicked secret preserved for generations. Small town horror is easy genre fodder as it creates an introduction to the town through the eyes of its newest resident. The readers can simultaneously experience the welcome along with the main character. Both are new in town, making it an easy story to delve into. Saul used this plot device for over three decades of horror superstardom. But the problem is, he fails to actually disclose the town's deep, dark secret. Instead, he meanders around it for 418 pages – the exact length of the book – leaving more questions than answers.

The book focuses on the newest two couples that have temporarily moved to Clark's Harbor, a New England-styled town on the California coast. For Brad and Elaine, it is a chance for both of them to pursue their personal goals, which include Brad's book about the body's bio-rhythms. For Rebecca and Glenn, the opportunity to raise their children on the rocky beach while establishing an art store. However, Clark's Harbor doesn't like strangers. Their leader, Police Chief Waylin, is dead set against any newcomers taking up residence in the town. But, despite warnings and threats of physical violence, both couples feel that Clark's Harbor is a place worth fighting for. Saul never bothers to explain what's so special about the town beyond sand and ocean.

Through 418 painful pages, readers experience moving, building store shelves, cooking, cleaning, and other daily routines that pad the page. The horror, if there is any, consists of a man drowning, a woman found hanged to death, a shipwreck, and a main character's death by broken neck. Beyond that...nothing. There's no real explanation for any of it other than some poppycock about storms and bio-rhythm that causes one resident to become homicidal. Nothing else is ever explained. Instead, the author just rests on writing pages upon pages of pointless dialogue and a recycling of the book's main chapter sparks – the two kids running on the beach at night and their parents asking where they are.

Cry for the Strangers is Hall of Shame material. The only crying is the after-effect of reading this boring pile of nonsense and realizing you've lost 12 hours of reading time. Stay away, for God's sake, just stay away from this clutter.

Spenser #04 - Promised Land

The fourth Spenser novel, Promised Land, was a real turning point in the series. The book, authored by Robert B. Parker, was published in 1976 by Houghton Mifflin in hardcover and in 1978 as a paperback by Dell. The novel won the Edgar Award for Best Novel in 1977, one of two that Parker would earn over his career (the other being a Grand Master in 2002). However, despite those lofty achievements, the book is probably best remembered as “the one where Hawk appears”. Or, maybe, the one where Susan tells Spenser, “I love you”. 

The book begins with Spenser relocating his private-eye office from a disreputable part of Boston to a more renowned section of the city. Susan is there helping him spruce up the place when a potential client walks in, a real estate developer from Cape Cod named Harvey. He wants to hire Spenser ($100 a day plus expenses) to track down his wife, a woman named Pamela, that has skipped out on him and their kids. Spenser needs a new client and takes the case. But it won't be an easy one.

When Spenser arrives at Harvey's home he is surprised to find an old acquaintance there named Hawk. Spenser explains that he and Hawk both spent time in the boxing circuit. While they aren't friends, they have known of each other for decades. Spenser also knows Hawk works as a lethal enforcer and that he could be working for a local loan shark named King Powers. When Spenser presses Harvey on clues to where his wife might be, he also indulges in a few questions about Harvey's relationship with Hawk. Spenser feels that Harvey is in deep debt with Powers, and Hawk was at the family home roughing him up to get the repayment. That's part of the core mystery of Promised Land and it also ties into the book's fitting title. 

Parker is such a fluid and descriptive writer. I could read about what Spenser is eating, driving, reading, and cooking, and it doesn't even have to involve a mystery. That is how great Parker's style is: his breezy ability to just write life's circumstances and somehow magically make it interesting. His prose is conversational and allows readers to live within the detective's mind – often solving the crime or simply planning the next meal. Regardless, it is compelling enough to keep flipping the pages, a craft lost on so many authors that are jagged and meddlesome with their wordcraft.

Spenser's case involves gun running, nefarious women, mean men, and other underbelly criminal enterprises that keep Promised Land on the right path as a glorious crime-fiction novel. However, Parker has a lot to say about marriage in the book. That's the central concept, the one that underlines every character and situation. Harvey and Pamela's marriage is in a state of crisis, but there's also a delicious awakening of Susan that drives home her ability to love Spenser – the dangerous hero with a gun. Parker's commentary is on enduring love, budding romance, and the life cycle of raising a home and a family. It's a surprising and unexpected thing to find in a crime-fiction novel – the art of love, the ability to grow and sustain in a relationship, and the inevitable burnout when finance and stress scar marriage.

Promised Land is really something special. Pick up a copy HERE.

The Housemaid

Freida McFadden (a pseudonym for a medical doctor) is a prolific, sharp-eyed writer with a gift for pacing and psychological pressure. Her most successful novel is The Housemaid from 2022, a lean domestic thriller that reads like it was engineered for a single sitting. It’s no surprise the novel has already crossed over into pop-culture territory with a successful film adaptation.

What McFadden understands—deeply—is that the best suspense doesn’t come from explosions or elaborate conspiracies. It comes from people, trapped in close quarters, making bad decisions for understandable reasons. A pretty female ex-con is hired by a snobby, dysfunctional Long Island family to be a live-in housekeeper. The Man of the House is handsome and charming, and you know where this is headed…or do you?

The domestic sexual tension recalled a gender-swapped Orrie Hitt, the mid-century paperback master who specialized in fatal attraction crime stories replete with class anxiety, and characters who think they’re in control right up until they aren’t. Something is amiss in this household with the charming dad, his bitchy wife, and their bratty kid. You’ll never guess what’s actually occurring.

The first-person prose is clean, unshowy, and ruthlessly efficient exactly what you want in a suspense novel. The story moves forward with the confidence of a writer who knows she has you with chapter-ending cliffhangers and a major curve-ball twist that makes you rethink everything you’ve read thus far.

The Housemaid is the kind of book that sneaks up on you, smiles politely, and then refuses to let go. It’s hard to put down, and you’ll burn a lot of calories deciding which characters to like or hate. The novel walks a tightrope between psychological dread and page-turning fun, never tipping into pretension or camp. It’s smart without being smug, dark without being cruel, and relentlessly readable. Like the best mass-market suspense of the past, it respects the reader’s intelligence while still delivering the goods.

Bottom line: The Housemaid is a modern paperback thriller with vintage instincts—fast, sharp, and unsettling in all the right ways. Fans of classic psychological noir, especially readers who appreciate the domestic menace and sexual tension found in Orrie Hitt’s work, will feel right at home here.

And if you finish the last page wanting more, you’re in luck: the story continues in two sequels, expanding the world McFadden so efficiently sets in motion.

Get the book HERE.

Conan - Conan and the Spider God

L. Sprague de Camp collaborated with Lin Carter and Bjorn Nybert to author several Conan stories. However, he only attempted one solo Conan effort, the 1980 Bantam paperback Conan and the Spider God. The novel was also published in hardcover in 1984 by Robert Hale, and reprinted twice by Ace, once in 1989 and again in 1991. Tor also published the book as a hardcover and paperback, and collected it as part of Sagas of Conan in 2004. The novel was adapted into comic form in Savage Sword of Conan #207-210 in 1993.

In the book's first few chapters, Conan is on the fugitive trail after slaying a fellow officer in the Turanian military - over a girl, of course. His quest to flee his pursuers places him on wacky adventures that essentially just fill paperback pages until de Camp settles on an actual plot. In these pages, Conan fights a swamp cat, rescues an old lady from a burning stake, and meets a blind man who utters some prophetic nonsense. The most interesting of these side quests is Conan's night with mysterious Zamorian merchants. It is in their camp that Conan discovers the men have captured King Yildiz's favorite wife, although at the time, he thinks she is just a mysterious female traveler. 

Eventually, Conan arrives in Yezud and is still being pursued by Turanian guards. It is here that the book settles into a long, boring narrative as the titular hero becomes a blacksmith, romances a woman named Rubadeh, and learns that the town's priests are divided, one half serving the King and the others serving a spider god named Zath. Conan is intrigued by the division and learns that Zath is really a giant statue of a spider, complete with gemstones representing the deity's eyes. Conan also learns that King Yildiz's wife is being held captive in a tower there guarded by a tiger. His quest is to continue infiltrating the city's political and military circumference, steal the gemstones, rescue the wife, and ride into peace and tranquility with the love of his life Rubadeh.

Obviously, there are only two real reasons to read or own de Camp's critically-panned pile of trash – Bob Larkin's Bantam paperback cover and the idea that Conan fights a large spider. Beyond those two things, the book is completely worthless (as much as it pains me to call a book disposable). This isn't Robert E. Howard's Conan. It isn't even a worthy Marvel interpretation that dominates the Tor paperback line. Instead, de Camp is making up his own version of Conan, one that cries, pines for love, debates becoming married, and is submissive to authority. This is a mere shell of Howard's nihilistic pulp hero. 

If his sympathetic and deranged take on Conan's character isn't insulting enough, de Camp even borrows entire scenes from Howard's work. In the setup to the book's finale, Conan provides spoiled meat to the tiger prowling around the base of the tower. Once the tiger “dies”, Conan scales the tower, gets the wife, and comes down only to be surprised that the tiger isn't dead. He kills it with his sword and continues on. This is from The Tower of the Elephant, in which Conan's ally Taurus blows magic lotus dust on a lion prowling the base of a tower. Conan eventually comes down from the tower and is surprised to find there is another lion there that he must kill with his sword. Same thing. The book is riddled with this stuff.

Conan and the Spider God is a boring, uninspired novel that rests securely in the basement of Conan literature. It can't possibly get any worse than this, thus earning my not-so-coveted ranking as a Hall of Shame member.

To the Dark Tower

It has taken me about six years to revisit Frank Belknap Long (1901-1994). My last experience with him, 1970s Monster From Out of Time, was unpleasant despite Frank Frazetta's promising paperback cover. Long is probably best remembered as a Lovecraft Circle member, sitting alongside other contemporary Weird Tales contributors like Clark Ashton Smith, Robert Bloch, and Robert E. Howard. As part of Nick Anderson's Book Graveyard YouTube show, The Guide to Gothics, I teamed up with the host and Liminal Spaces show host Chris to discuss Long's gothic paperback, To the Dark Tower (watch HERE). It was published in 1969 by both Lancer and Magnum using Long's pseudonym of Lyda Belknap Long. Humorously, the author adds at the beginning of the book, “To the untiring help and teachings of my husband, Frank Belknap Long.” I see what you did there.

The book stars a woman named Joan, an architect who recently encountered a dark supernatural force in the Pyrenees mountains. At least she thinks she did, and her life has been plagued with visions and nightmares since then. Her lover, Dr. Allen, has invited her to his rural Kentucky home so she can talk with mental health professionals about her experiences. Joan is appreciative of the gesture, but mainly just wants to get laid.

Before Joan's introduction, Long features a young disabled man named Willie witnessing some secret meeting of witches. He later finds a voodoo doll showing Joan's face before he is murdered. Two travelers in the area experience car trouble and make their way through the forest, and discover more crazy shenanigans. When they report their account to the local police, they are killed and buried in the woods. 

To the Dark Tower then shapes up to be a wild folk horror novel where the locals all worship the Devil and kill outsiders. Remember, this is just two years after Rosemary's Baby and the start of Satanic Panic. Books like Thomas Tryon's The Other and Harvest Home were around the corner, along with William Peter Blatty's The Exorcist. At least that was the idea, I think, disguised as a much safer gothic-romance or suspense book by the publisher. Unfortunately, as good as the setup is, Long fails to deliver a quality novel.

After a great beginning, Long delivers 40-50 pages of dialogue (in one room!) as the sheriff, Dr. Allen, and Joan all discuss various topics surrounding her experience in the forest, Europe, and meeting Dr. Allen's sister Helen. This is a long-winded, painful literary exercise that made me consider finishing the book, abandoning it, or simply skipping this ridiculous page padding. I skipped whole pages of this nonsense, only to find the end was nothing short of abysmal. In the finale, the author has characters reiterate what I had already read. This is a rookie mistake, not something a veteran author should be making.

To the Dark Tower is an unpleasant mess that could had the makeup of being a folk horror cornerstone. Proceed with caution; don't get this book. If you have to own it, at least throw a few cents my way by getting it HERE.

The Mystery of Sebastian Island

Oklahoma native Margaret Goff Clark (1913-2003) authored over 200 short stories, 35 one-act plays, and 24 novels, including fiction and biographies. She received her education at State Teachers College in Buffalo, New York, and then became a school teacher for five years. Her first book, The Mystery of Seneca Hill, was published in 1961, kick-starting a productive writing career focused on juvenile and young adult fiction. I love a good story, no matter the age group, genre, or ingredients. I picked up her 168-page young adult novel, The Mystery of Sebastian Island, published by Dodd, Meade, & Company in 1976.

The book's protagonist is Dena, a teenager who lives on Sebastian Island, a rural island off the coast of Maine. Eight years earlier, Dena's father died in a boating accident while fishing for lobsters. Dena spends most of her life on the island, but lives on the coast at a boarding school during the winter. As the book begins, Dena is returning home after a school break. She's anxious to see her mother, but still hasn't adjusted to her mother's new husband, a man named Paul.

Dena's return to the island involves a mystery plaguing the residents. Boats are missing, lobster traps are vanishing, and strangers have been spotted (everyone knows everyone here). There's a mystery involving Paul's charting of ships, his whereabouts during the day, and his relationship with the strangers on the island. Dena experiences a home-invasion attempt, which propels her further into the mystery.

Surprisingly, The Mystery of Sebastian Island evolves into a crime fiction novel as Dena, with her best friend, discovers heroin traffickers using the island as a shipping and receiving center. There's very little in the way of violence or gunplay, but there is a sense of adventure and escapism when the story elevates into a nautical fiction finale. The story's most engaging aspect is the character of Paul and whether Dena's mother has married a criminal or an undercover agent. 

The Mystery of Sebastian Island was a fun hour of escapism, and Clark injects a lot of atmosphere and life into these islanders. I enjoyed the book, but keep your expectations in check. Get it HERE. 

The Crash

Freida McFadden (a pseudonym whose real name is undisclosed) is one of the most prolific thriller writers working today. A practicing physician by trade, she’s built a second career cranking out short, high-concept psychological suspense novels at a pace that would make most writers collapse from exhaustion. Her books live at the intersection of airport paperbacks and late-night Kindle binges with short chapters, unreliable narrators, and twists engineered to hit like a slap across the face. 2025’s The Crash is squarely in that wheelhouse.

The setup is deceptively simple. Pregnant 23 year-old Tegan’s life veers violently off course after a snowy car crash leaves her injured, vulnerable, and dependent on the kindness of an odd couple who brings her home to care for her shattered ankle until the blizzard blows over. Tegan quickly comes to the creeping realization that something isn’t right with the strange couple.

If the premise feels familiar, that’s because The Crash openly invites comparison to Stephen King’s Misery. Like King’s classic, this novel weaponizes confinement and dependency. The horror doesn’t come from monsters or gore but rather a power imbalance. McFadden mirrors King’s slow tightening of the screws, where every small kindness feels suspect and every gesture might carry a hidden cost. The Crash is more streamlined and modern as if it were filtered through TikTok-era pacing.

Where McFadden truly shines is momentum. The book is hard to put down. Its the kind of thriller that tricks you into saying “one more chapter” until you realize it’s 2 a.m. The psychological manipulation is effective, the clues are planted just subtly enough, and the central situation is genuinely unsettling. You feel Tegan’s helplessness, which is exactly the point.

The ending is likely to divide audiences. Without spoiling anything, the final act leans heavily into revealing mandatory plot twists that not every reader will find it fully satisfying creating a conclusion that felt more engineered than inevitable. The landing doesn’t quite match the elegance of the buildup.

Still, The Crash is a solid entry in McFadden’s catalog and a strong recommendation for fans of fast, claustrophobic psychological thrillers. If you like your suspense sharp, efficient, and designed to be devoured in a single sitting, this one absolutely delivers even if the final note doesn’t resonate as cleanly as the outstanding set-up.

Get the book HERE 

Nick Carter: Killmaster #06 - Saigon

In terms of the early Nick Carter: Killmaster novels, I enjoyed the debut, Run, Spy, Run, and the series's third installment, Checkmate in Rio. The combination of Michael Avallone and Valerie Moolman proved to be a winning formula, although I suspect Avallone had more to do with Checkmate in Rio. The two are listed as co-authors of the sixth series entry, Saigon, published in 1964. Whatever the ratio the two writers shared, they managed to create one of the worst books I've ever covered here at Paperback Warrior.

The novel takes place during Vietnam's Civil War, shortly after the French have been pushed out of the country. Madame Claire La Farge's peaceful existence in Northern Vietnam is under consistent threats from the Communist regime. Claire's sprawling farm plantation provides food and labor for the local villagers, which is one of the few reasons the bad guys have left her alone. There's a backstory in the opening pages regarding Claire's husband, a French Intelligence agent who was killed eight years ago. Claire spends most of her days sunbathing in the nude and...well, that's about it. 

A messenger arrives at Claire's house and immediately succumbs to his injuries at the hands of some merciless torturer. He provides Claire a list, and the book kicks into low gear from there. 

The first half of the book is dedicated to a girl named Toni. She's hooked on heroin and has sex with her dealer. The dealer is a Communist agent who's thrilled to give injections of both varieties to Toni. Yet, he's really working to obtain details about Toni's father, Dupre, a French Intelligence agent. Does any of this tie to the list provided to Claire from the dead guy? Probably, but I stopped caring after these endless pages of “giving her his maleness”. 

Nick Carter eventually gets involved by answering an advertisement in the classified pages. Seriously. He's on loan to the South Vietnamese government, posing as a medical doctor in a nearby village. He's bored one morning and reads a newspaper and sees an intriguing classified ad. He goes to follow up, and it just so happens that it was a secret message sent by Claire in hopes of reaching one of her husband's former French co-workers. Sure, AXE eventually corresponds with Nick and advises him to go to Claire's house, but Nick had already beaten this branch of American Intelligence by reading the newspaper. 

The second half of the book is Toni and her dealer doing the nasty, but mostly involves Nick bedding down Toni's friend Michelle and also pining over what Claire may look like once he journeys through the jungle to find her house. Nick's quest isn't the list, upending communism and providing war efforts. Nope. He needs to get laid by a woman he's never met (or saw).

I've read some bad Michael Avallone novels, so he's not completely off the hook here. I suspect that Valerie Moolman is to blame for this word stockpile of pointless, badly written trash. The characters behave poorly, there's very little action, and the novel really should have been a sleaze book with no association to the Nick Carter series (although consensus says the series is ripe with poor entries). I hated this book. I despise this book. I have a scanned copy taking up a meager 7MB of space and I want to remove all traces of it from my computer. Hall of Shame, welcome Saigon. 

Paperback Warrior - Conversations

In this episode, I'm talking with Nick from The Book Graveyard and Chris from Liminal Spaces about a 1969 paperback titled To the Dark Tower by Weird Tales author Frank Belknap Long. Is the book an early representative of folk horror? Is it a standard gothic romance paperback? What are the ties to Lovecraft's cosmic horror? We have the answers in this newest episode of the Guide to Gothics series.

Stream the podcast below, on any streaming platform, or watch the collaboration on video HERE.

Listen to "Conversations - The Book Graveyard & Liminal Spaces" on Spreaker.

Underground Airlines

Ben Winters (b. 1976) is a New York Times bestselling author who won an Edgar Award from the Mystery Writers of America for his 2012 novel The Last Policeman. The book was the first in a trilogy of pre-apocalyptic detective novels. My first experience with the writer is Underground Airlines, a 2016 novel published by Mulholland Books.

The novel is set in an alternate history of the United States, one in which the American Civil War never happened. The book's opening page shows the map of states, some of which are free and some that aren't – meaning slave labor is still legal. These states, which are mostly America's upper East Coast, as well as the “Hard Four”, Alabama, Louisiana, Mississippi, and California, use forced labor (mostly black) to manufacture goods, for farming, and for household servitude. 

The book's protagonist is Victor, a black undercover agent who works as a U.S. Marshall. His main duty is to hunt escaped slaves and bring them to justice. He's good at it and possesses a stellar resume of apprehensions. However, there's an inner turmoil within Victor that builds throughout the narrative. 

Victor was a slave himself. Throughout the novel, readers are fed pieces of Victor's backstory that reveal his life as a slave, his eventual escape to a free state, and his apprehension by authorities. The feds offered Victor official, legal freedom in exchange for his career as a slave-hunting cop. It is the proverbial “sell the Devil your soul” dish dressed and served deliciously by the author. 

Underground Airlines focuses on Victor's trail to find an escaped slave, a plot that weaves in and out of slave and free states in a compelling mix of unique takes on history and a contemporary look at forced labor in our current society (you're probably wearing clothes stitched by a slave as you read this). I think Winter's novel is a hard look at forced labor and the intricacies of protecting big business and their pockets. It reminded me of classics like Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451 and how that book's main character, Guy Montag, begins to question the system and plots ways (with assistance) to upend the immoral fabric of the government. 

You can get this unique, entertaining novel HERE.

Babysitter's Nightmares #04 - A Killer in the House

There were a number of middle school horror and thriller paperbacks in the 1980s and 1990s. I' 've reviewed a few of them here on PW, and created videos discussing these novels. I discovered a series recently that was new to me, Babysitter's Nightmares. This was a short-lived, four-book series of stand-alone thrillers published by HarperPaperbacks, the young adult division of HarperCollins, in 1995. My experience comes by way of A Killer in the House, the series' last installment, authored by J.H. Carroll. 

Sue is a high school student earning extra income by babysitting the Andersons' young son. One night, she stumbles on an envelope left under the typewriter of Mr. Anderson. Inside, she discovers a check being paid to a person identified as R. Stoud for $125K. This fat check leads Sue into a search for who Mr. Anderson really is and what led to his wealth. 

Partnering with her friend Lydia and friend Brett, Sue begins an investigation that leads to some really dark places. Apparently, Mrs. Anderson may have killed her prior husband, stolen his money, and set up a new identity. Is she a black widow preying on rich men? Is Mr. Anderson the next victim?

A Killer in the House isn't the novel I thought it would be. I was prepared for a home-invasion setup with some sadistic psychopath breaking in on a babysitter's shift. Maybe something like the film Black Christmas, playing up the killer in the house title. Remember “the calls are coming from inside the house”? Instead, this short novel is a crime-fiction endeavor with the lead researching the suspect's former employer, a trip to the library for archived press clippings, a discussion at a New York Mets game, and other low-tension affairs. 

While the finale produced some gunfire, fisticuffs, and a few surprises, the book is generally going to attract fans of Nancy Drew or The Hardy Boys. It's a fun crime story with a central mystery and the obligatory self-discovery as the protagonist finds herself through the clues chase.

Get the book HERE.

The Wolf in the Clouds

Ron Faust (1936-2011) worked in the newspaper industry in Key West, Colorado Springs, and San Diego. He elected to play professional baseball in the 1950s, but left the sport after just 25 games and two seasons. His first published novel was Snowkill, published in 1970. He authored 14 more books before his passing, most of which are high adventure novels that incorporate skiing, mountain climbing, and philosophy. His intense thriller The Wolf in the Clouds is an avalanche-themed survival novel that also features a deranged psychopath. The book was originally published as a hardcover by Bobbs-Merrill Company in 1977 and in paperback by Popular Library the same year. 

Jack is a family man with a wife and two young children. He works for the U.S. Forestry Service and specializes in avalanche prevention and recovery. As the book begins, Jack's co-worker Frank arrives at Jack's house and explains that their assignment is to retrieve three college kids who have vacationed in a secluded, faraway cabin near the top of fictitious Mt. Wolf. As the two leave the house, Jack's wife begs him to consider moving his job to a different area of expertise or a safer geographical area. 

En route to the base of the mountain, Jack discovers Frank has brought a rifle for the rescue mission. In a philosophical debate that permeates throughout the novel, Jack argues that the gun is not the answer. He questions Frank's intentions and explains that the homicidal maniac was once a friend and co-worker. It's explained that the maniac is Ralph, a quiet man who befriended Jack a year or two earlier on the job. Ralph even rescued Jack during an avalanche, so the two share a bond. Yet, Jack understands Ralph's psychotic tendencies. The killer murdered his landlord and shot several skiers before running from fugitives into the icy wilderness. He's a mass shooter on the run, which is ultimately Frank's defense in bringing a rifle for the rescue. Smart guy.

Eventually, Jack and Frank reach the mountaintop and meet with the three college kids. Ralph arrives as well, and all Hell breaks loose. People are shot and killed, Ralph takes the cabin and captures Jack and two college kids. The novel's second half is a high-tension cat-and-mouse affair as Jack talks with Ralph to de-escalate the situation. Yet without a gun, Jack realizes his efforts are useless and likely to cost him his life. No one is getting out of the cabin without a struggle.

The Wolf in the Clouds is an excellent thriller that incorporates philosophy and high adventure. Jack is aloof and weak, the opposite of a paperback warrior. The idea of combatting violence without violence sounds great in theory, but spells disaster for these college kids and Jack. Despite Jack's efforts to talk to Ralph, the maniac ultimately descends into some really dark places fueled by sexual frustration, psychotic fantasies, and a deep desire to kill people to liberate their Earthly bodies for a space trip. Ralph is the cult leader without a cult, Jack is the white-hatted hero without a gun. Faust blends all of these into a fascinating novel that piqued my interest in his bibliography. Recommended. Get his books HERE.

Mean Business on North Ganson Street

S. Craig Zahler is a terrific independent screenwriter and an accomplished novelist. His 2014 violent crime novel, Mean Business on North Ganson Street, was to be adapted into a movie starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Jamie Foxx, but it seems the film project never happened.

Our hero is Jules Bettinger, age 50. He’s a tough and cynical black police detective in Arizona. For largely political reasons involving an unfortunate civilian death, he’s fired from his position on the force. His chief made some calls and landed him a job as a police detective in a rustbelt city called Victory, Missouri. The town is a cesspool of rapes, abductions and murders. They could use a seasoned detective.

Victory is a shithole among shitholes resembling Sin City from the Frank Miller comic books. Dangerous thugs wielding pipes are everywhere. The “Welcome to Victory” sign at the city limits is smeared with excrement greeting visitors with miles of dilapidated tenements and dead pigeons adorning every street.

Bettinger’s first case in Victory is a murder-rape (in that order) on Ganston Street, and the book starts looking like a normal police procedural. Not so fast! Zahler’s plotting takes two abrupt turns becoming an investigation into police corruption, then a violent serial killer manhunt.

Ganston Street’s characters are vivid and morally-ambiguous. Characters that stand on virtue are dragged into the muck when a case becomes personal. As a lead character, Bettinger is super-smart and capable. But the real star of the novel is the dungheap town of Victory. Zahler pours it on thick making Victory far-and-away the most putrid city in America — making Gary, Indiana look like Downtown Disney.

To enjoy a Zahler book, you need to be comfortable with an extreme amount of graphic violence. A rotting pigeon is shoved down the throat of a non-compliant subject. Brain matter splatters against the ceiling in an office suicide. All of this is in service if the plot and never gratuitous, but you need to make peace with these sequences as a reader. Some of the descriptions were hard to read.

The mysteries of the novel are all neatly resolved by the end with characters having gone to hell and back to bring these matters to a close. Mean Business on Ganson Street isn’t Zahler’s masterpiece (that would be The Slanted Gutter), but it’s a damn-fine xxxtreme police procedural mystery-crime-corruption-vendetta novel that will keep you glued to the pages. 

Get the book HERE.

The Turn of the Screw

Henry James (1843-1916) authored a number of celebrated works, like The Wings of the Dove, The Golden Bowl, and The Ambassadors. However, his reputation is mostly synonymous with the ghost story The Turn of the Screw. The work was originally published in Collier's Weekly in 1898, then reprinted in numerous formats as part of The Two Magics collection, The Aspern Papers, and stand-alone editions by a variety of publishers. Maintaining the novella's relevancy are the endless adaptations. There have been at least seven film adaptations, ten television series productions, numerous stage performances, and a radio play. I read and enjoyed the book when I was much younger. As part of my collaboration with Nick Anderson at The Book Graveyard, I agreed to revisit the novella for a discussion on gothic paperbacks. 

The basis of the novella is told in first-person perspective from an unnamed narrator. She is the newly hired governess for a boy and a girl living in a large country house in Essex, England. While ages are never provided, I guess that Miles is around 14-16 years of age. He was attending boarding school and has been dismissed for the summer. Later, it is disclosed through a letter that Miles has been permanently kicked out of the school for some undisclosed act. Flora is Miles' younger sister. Based on clues in the novel, I speculate she is around 4-5 years of age. 

Through the narrative, the governess learns that two of her predecessors mysteriously died. While outside on the front lawn, the governess looks up to see a strange man inside the house walking along the tower. Later, the governess sees a malevolent woman dressed in black standing near the children. These appearances continue throughout the narrative, leading readers to question the narrator's mental state. In the narrator's defense, the children behave as if they see these two people as well. Later, the governess describes the people to Mrs. Grose, the housekeeper, and she confirms that these two entities could be the prior “dead” predecessors that tutored the children. 

The Turn of the Screw is a difficult novella to read. The prose and language are Victorian, creating abrasion for readers (i.e. “presumable sequestration”). The most straightforward scenes are described in abstract details that blur the actual events. There is too much anonymity to allow readers to connect to these characters, a strangeness that constructs and seals too many details. I conclude that James purposefully wrote the work in a vague way to create an air of mystery in the whole text. Either this presentation will work for you or it won't. The first time I read the novella, I was intrigued and overly enthusiastic about it. This time, I found the writing tedious and the pace sluggish.

While there are terrifying moments, the way they are described isn't captivating or revealing. Perhaps at the time of publication, this had more of an impact, but in 2025, the horror is tepid at best. I think I'm more moved by the general idea of the novella and the inspiration it provided for gothic paperbacks and films (The Others, The Woman in Black come to mind). There's no questioning the work's positive impact on modern thrillers and horror, and for that reason, I'm appreciative of James' contribution to the genre. You owe it to yourself to read the novella and come to your own conclusions.

Get a version you like HERE.

X-Files - The Calusari

Garth Nix was born in Melbourne, Victoria, Australia. He was a sales rep and publicist before becoming a senior editor at HarperCollins. He later became a literary agent for Curtis Brown Pty Ltd before becoming a full-time author. He created and wrote the fantasy series Old Kingdom, consisting of six novels, as well as young-adult fantasy titles like The Seventh Tower, The Keys to the Kingdom, and two series co-written with Sean Williams, Have Sword, Will Travel and Troubletwisters. 

Nix kicked off the young adult line of X-Files novelizations in 1997 with the first installment, The Calusari, published by Scholastic. There were 16 of these books from 1997 through 2000, all of which were written by different authors and adapted from the television show episodes. “The Calusari” was the show's twenty-first episode of the second season, originally airing April 14, 1995. 

I always enjoyed the show's monster-of-the-week episodes the most. While I love X-Files, I found the through-story arc with alien invasion and cover-ups way too convoluted. These unconnected, stand-alone episodes are really where the show shines, and this episode is one of the most frightening of the franchise. 

The book, at 116 pages, features an exorcist sort of take on a child's death. In the opener (pre-theme music), Maggie and her husband Steve are at a small amusement park in Virginia. They have their two small sons with them, Teddy and Charlie. In a freak occurrence, Teddy is struck by a train while pursuing a balloon that appears to be floating against the wind. The X-Files become involved after evidence shows the balloon's trajectory and the possibility of a ghost that led Teddy to his death.

Mulder and Scully become involved in the investigation, which takes some unusual turns with Romanian customs, Charlie's bizarre grandmother, Maggie's unwillingness to succumb to the family's odd traditions, and marital woes in the wake of Teddy's death. There is a disturbing plot element introduced that suggests Charlie's dead twin may be an evil force bent on destroying the family. The Calusari emerge as the family's mysterious religious sect pitted against evil.

Novelizations are tricky. One of the most alluring aspects of these novels is the possibility of introducing a different perspective, more depth to certain film or episode scenes, different takes on the source material, or something else. The Calusari doesn't offer much to supplement the episode. This is nearly word-for-word a transcription of the episode, with a few perspective pieces coming from the train driver and Maggie's relationship with her mother-in-law. Aside from that, this is literally an episode on paper. It was brisk, enjoyable, and I don't regret reading it. But it adds nothing to the episode.

Get The Calusari HERE.

The Day They H-Bombed Los Angeles

Using his own name, and pseudonyms like Russell Storm, John S. Browning, and H.H. Harmon, Robert Moore Williams (1907-1977) authored science-fiction and adventure novels and short stories. He contributed his Tarzan-inspired series Jongor to the Fantastic Adventures pulp, and also wrote for other magazines like Amazing Stories and Startling Stories. In my search to read another doomsday novel, I chose his stand-alone 1961 Ace paperback The Day They H-Bombed Los Angeles (D-530).

As the novel begins, Tom Watkins, a former Sergeant in the U.S.M.C., is walking in the harbor area of Los Angeles when a bright splash of light engulfs the sky. He quickly realizes a bomb has decimated Pasadena and begins seeking shelter. As sirens sound, Tom and others find a fallout shelter and brace for more impacts. Earthquake tremors, more bombs, and human hysteria devour the day and night as Tom tries to survive in this hot, confined space.

In these post-apocalyptic scenarios, alliances are naturally formed. Typically, it is the calm, cool, and collected opposing the irrational, deranged lunatics. As unsatisfied people begin leaving the shelter, Tom's group hunkers down to wait for the rain to wash the fallout from the air. His group consists of an FBI agent, Tom's former classmate, a spoiled Hollywood actress, an adventuresome young man, and Tom's soon-to-be love interest, a woman named Cissie. 

The next day, the group leaves the shelter and heads to Cissie's employer, a scientist named Dr. Smith, who lives and works in a large concrete building. Inside, the group set up a makeshift living arrangement and begin prowling the streets by day gathering guns, ammunition, and food storage. At night, the group hears an unnerving howling coming from the dark streets outside. The next morning, they find the remains of a woman that appears to have been eaten. 

On one of the supply runs, the group encounters a small group of survivors displaying bizarre behavior. The people walk/run hunched over and seem to have no regard for their own safety. They just press forward and want to kill. As the narrative unfolds, these “zombies” repeatedly attack the shelter, and the group is forced to shoot them. But as more and more are killed, there are hundreds more that take their place. Is this the Dawn of the Dead?

No. Not really. Although the term “zombie” is thrown around a lot. This is more like the film franchise 28 Days Later crossed with Jack Finney's The Body Snatchers. As Dr. Smith and the group run experiments on these infected people, they realize they are all suffering from a molecule that transforms them into killing machines. But as the molecule evolves, the humans gain intelligence to unite, create armies, and eventually commandeer airplanes. There's a backstory on the molecule, how it was pulled from the ocean, and a far-reaching spin on evolution. 

Williams' narrative combines the efforts of Smith and Tom leading their respective factions against the crazies. Smith's emphasis is on research and attempts to only injure the infected. He feels he can cure them with more time. Tom is in desperation mode as the survivors defend themselves in the concrete building and on supply runs. 

Ultimately, Williams used an alien invasion angle, like the aforementioned The Body Snatchers, to make this post-apocalyptic tale work as science-fiction. It's a fun book loaded with tension, action, and some genuinely scary moments. But the author's dialogue is clunky and uneven, which reduces the book's enjoyment. If you can get through the rough patches, then you'll absolutely love this one. Recommended. Get the book HERE.

Dead of Winter

Keri Beevis is an internationally bestselling author who resides in Norfolk, England. She wrote her first novel at the age of twenty and won a publishing contest in 2012. In 2019, she signed with Bloodhound Books and later became a Boldwood Books author. She's authored numerous hits like The Sleepover, The Summer House, and Nowhere to Hide, making her a successful suspense writer with 14 popular novels that have sold over half a million copies. Her newest novel, Dead of Winter, was published in October 2025 by Boldwood Books. 

Like many modern thrillers, Dead of Winter is a non-linear presentation featuring chapters that weave back and forth between different years. These chapters have an emphasis on a handful of different characters that are experiencing penultimate moments that affect the book's present events and the novel's protagonist, a young woman named Lola.

In the unsettling premise, Lola recounts to readers her experience of losing her mother. After her death, Lola discovers she was adopted when she was a small child. Wanting to connect with her family, she learns that she has one biological family member remaining, a wealthy brother named Daniel living in Norfolk. She reaches out to him on Facebook Messenger and is met with a rather snobby response. He wants nothing to do with her. After several months, she reaches out again and receives a cold invite to meet him at his home. Lola connects her work schedule with a stop at his house a few days before Christmas. 

On the train ride to Norfolk, Lola runs into her former boyfriend, Quinn. Readers gain the backstory on both characters, why they broke up, and the events that have led to a chance meeting on a train. Eventually, Lola arrives at Midwinter Manor, a sprawling mansion, where she is introduced to Daniel (he's confined to a wheelchair) and his rude wife, Rose. After receiving a minimum amount of information on her dead biological parents, Daniel and Rose wish Lola goodbye. Only there's a heavy snowstorm, and Lola wrecks the car leaving the couple's long driveway. With no cell phone signal, she's forced to return to the couple who were so anxious to be rid of her. She'll need to spend the night with these cold-hearted strangers. 

As the evening and night unfold, the author introduces a complex tale that explains Rose's involvement with Daniel, Daniel's crippling injury, Lola's unique relationship with the family, and a myriad of other interesting tidbits. However, when the power goes out, things emerge from the dark that elevate the narrative from a character discovery plot to a psychological suspense novel. Daniel and Rose have secrets, including other people in the house that Lola is unaware of. 

Dead of Winter is a far better book than I expected. After experiencing a few of these modern thrillers from the likes of Darcy Coates and Freida McFadden (house name), I was anticipating a disposable airport paperback. These books typically end up as Lifetime movies or Netflix originals with a lifespan of a week. But Keri Beevis surprised me. The twist was so satisfying, and the buildup was brimming with a tension-laced atmosphere, and an invested interest in past events that paid wonderful dividends on present events directly impacting the protagonist. Beevis is a smart writer and made every detail matter. Lola is likable, Daniel is mysterious, Rose is heinous, and the other characters...well let's pretend they don't exist for now. I don't want to ruin the surprise. 

Like a great gothic paperback, Dead of Winter is the perfect escapism – a cavernous mansion, a vulnerable beauty, and scary happenings in the dark. What's not to love? Get Dead of Winter HERE.

The Penetrator #04 - Hijacking Manhattan

It was Chet Cunningham's turn to write the next Penetrator novel, Hijacking Manhattan, using the house name Lionel Derrick. In this vigilante series, Cunningham writes the even-numbered installments and Mark Roberts the odd. 

Mark Hardin receives some intel on a black militant group calling themselves Black Gold. It's a splintered faction from the Black Panthers, but with a deadly alliance formed with Chinese terrorists. This hybrid of black and red is a wrecking crew, working in prostitution, heroin distribution, racketeering, and general criminal tomfoolery. However, their newest endeavor has brought New York City to its knees.

Led by Abdul Daley, an ex-Vietnam Vet and career criminal, the group has undertaken a series of extortion involving the police and city officials. It begins with detonating a portion of the city's subway system. Abdul then makes a call to the police and demands millions in used $20 bills to avoid it happening again. The city pays up in a bungled attempt to tail the money grabber, and the whole thing recycles again with another planned bombing and payment. Thankfully, one man can stop the deadly game.

Hardin uses a tanning cream to make himself appear to be a nonchalant black guy in Harlem. He practices “acting black” in his hotel room to get the dialect and mannerisms down. He then infiltrates various cells, taking information by force and kicking balls along the way. The narrative's most interesting bit is an uneasy alliance with the book's eye candy, a secretive counter-intelligence woman who wants to nail a weapons distributor providing explosives to Black Gold. There's also a small sidestep with a female detective captured by the gang and then raped.

These books are violent pulpy fun, and both authors that contribute to the series never take it too seriously. Cunningham is a great storyteller and invests enough of the page count in providing character development on the faction's unique leader, as well as planting enough mystery behind Hardin's female counterpart in the book. Of the Executioner rip-offs, Penetrator continues to be one step ahead. Recommended. 

Get the book HERE.

G.I. Joe - Jungle Raid

I've covered G.I. Joe on a couple of different occasions here at PW, including the comics and the recent short story collection. The books that have alluded me my whole life are the YA Ballantine paperbacks that were published between 1987-1988. I've yet to find one in the wild, but thankfully, someone scanned the series' fifth installment, Jungle Raid (cover by Earl Norem), and posted it to Archive.org. It was written by R.L. Stine of Goosebumps and Fear Street fame.

In the fictitious island country of San Juego, the democratically elected government is in jeopardy of losing its nation to a terrorist leader named Raoul and his army of mercenaries. As the fighting erupts between the two nations, a plea is made to the U.S. government to send in the G.I. Joe force. Their mission is to be a peacekeeping faction to protect the innocent civilians. This brings some bitterness for team members like Law and Falcon, who are itching to get into the fight and stop Raoul.

Hawk meets with the team and announces that COBRA forces might be in San Juego conducting mind control experiments. The mission transforms from peacekeeper to investigative as a three-pronged assignment is unveiled. Chuckles will infiltrate the nearby village disguised as a laborer while searching for some sort of COBRA headquarters. Gung Ho and others will beat the bush searching for any sign of COBRA. Meanwhile, Hawk and his men will be busy defending their mobile command center from Raoul and his mercenaries. As the narrative kicks into high gear, all three parts of the assignment explode into action. 

This book begins like a typical adult men's action-adventure paperback from the likes of Pinnacle or Manor. Chuckles has a barroom run-in with village bullies and has a unique way of dealing with them. He then infiltrates the village workforce and is carted away to a secret lair where COBRA and a certain doctor are conducting experiments on villagers. This part of the book turns into a type of prison-break action formula as Chuckles battles the enemy as a prisoner. The action in the jungle expands to include familiar franchise villains like the Dreadnoks and COBRA Commander. But, there's also a central mystery included with Hawk announcing he is helping his brother in San Juego. Everyone knows Hawk doesn't have a brother, so the intrigue behind this relationship is enticing. 

I had way more fun with this G.I. Joe YA paperback than I ever expected to. Stine's writing is flavorful, and his prose is simple yet effective with plenty of G.I. Joe lore that isn't that different than the animated cartoon. This reads like an episode of the show – over-the-top, totally unbelievable pulpy fun. The good guys win, the bad guys lose, America saves the day. Who can argue with that storytelling flow? Jungle Raid is a fun romp that begs for a repeat performance. Thankfully, Stine wrote one more of these books. Unfortunately, the series is rather expensive in the used retail market. You can check prices HERE.

Nurses Dormitory

According to romancewiki, Alice Brennan (1913-1973) was a St. Louis native who lived in Michigan. She was employed as a dancer, hat-check girl, and secretary, but became a novelist in the early 1960s. She authored a variety of fiction that was centered in the romance genre. She wrote gothics and nurse-fiction for publishers like Lancer, Paperback Library, Belmont, Berkley, and Avon. I chose to read her first nurse novel, Nurses Dormitory. It was published in 1962 by Lancer, and later reprinted by Magnum Books. Cover artist uncredited.

The novel presents the careers and personal lives of three young nurses who have just started employment at fictional St. Joseph's General Hospital in an unnamed city. Brennan's smooth narrative focuses on a variety of subplots that affect the lives and inner sanctum of this medical facility. By switching perspectives from these three main characters, the chapters often entwine their personal struggles at the hospital and the various patients and medical concerns affecting both their work and sleep.

The most prominent character is Veronica, a farm girl who grew up with her childhood friend John. By earning an education and becoming a nurse, Veronica is now working at the same facility as John, a resident doctor. Veronica has loved John her entire life, so her placement as his nurse is a twofold problem. Her affection for John could jeopardize her career and derail her career ambitions. At the same time, John has always considered Veronica as a sister, yet her maturity now brings a new spark of romance to the relationship. Veronica and John are cautious in exploring this love affair, which made their portions of the narrative extremely interesting.

Susie enjoys nursing, but has an aspiration to marry into money. However, she meets Veronica's brother, a farmer, and her personal goals are ruined. She flirts with the idea of marrying for love, scoffs at the concept of becoming a farmer's wife, and debates the farmer's grandiose intention of having six kids. While enjoyable, their relationship struggles were the least effective portions of the narrative.

Lita is the daughter of a successful film actress. She's pursuing her medical career despite her mother's best efforts to lead her into the life of a spoiled nepo baby. Lita is also torn between two lovers, a successful entrepreneur named Peter and the resident doctor, Mark. Both men are admirable choices, with each experiencing their own life goals and purpose. Peter wants Lita's hand in marriage, but Mark is the real lover Lita is pining for. Lita's struggles with Mark were laced with a mystery concerning Mark's prior wife and a repressed guilt that leads him to alcohol abuse. 

While these three character studies were interesting enough, Nurses Dormitory surprisingly contains a tight-knit legal battle. The hospital's manager, a tightwad named Larson, has finally put the business into the black, yet his cost-cutting approach is nearly criminal. As the doctors and nurses are desperate for things like penicillin, Larson refuses to order more than a certain monthly allotment. As the doctors battle Larson, he begins restricting their use of the operating room, which leads to a showdown over a dying patient. These high-strung medical scenarios were imaginative and written well. There was also riveting patient drama with a small child's gunshot wound and attempts to save his leg from gangrene. 

While I'm not a fan of TV medical dramas like Grey's Anatomy and Chicago Med, reading these dramas seems to be something I'm drawn to. A lot of great writers penned nurse-fiction, from the king of paperbacks Harry Whittington, to authors such as Max Brand (Frederick Faust), Frank Slaughter, Arthur Catherall, and Peggy Gaddis. It's an entire genre that competes, and sometimes blends, with gothic-suspense and romance. If Nurses Dormitory is any indication of the genre's quality, then I'm all in. I enjoyed the characters, the development, the pace, and the author's ability to weave all of this into a captivating narrative in just 132 pages. 

Get the book HERE.