October Screams - A Halloween Anthology

Kangas Kahn film company have released horror films like Fear of Clowns, Garden of Hedon, and Terrortory over the last 20 years. In 2015, the film company launched Kangas Kahn Publishing, a small publisher that have released titles like With Teeth and Halloween: The Greatest Holiday of All. This Halloween season, the company has published an impressive short-story collection called October Screams: A Halloween Anthology. It is 27 stories authored by some of Paperback Warrior's favorite horror writers. 

Here are some of my favorites from this collection:

Ronald Malfi's “Tate” is a holiday-themed story that centers on a grieving couple on Halloween. It begins with Nick leaving the house to buy some candy for the visiting trick-or-treaters that will surely be arriving. His wife Alice waits patiently for his quick return, but begins to worry when the minutes turn into hours. When Nick returns, he's upset and heads straight to his dead son's bedroom. Alice comforts him, but both are surprised when a boy arrives at their door that resembles their deceased son. As the story unfolds, readers learn more about the boy's death and the finale was a throwback to the old EC Comics horror tales of the mid-20th century. “Tate” was really effective.

In “Perfect Night for a Perfect Murder”, author Jeremy Bates uses the short-story format to present this first-person perspective on how to properly commit premeditated murder. The protagonist is a crime-fiction author that is detailing the advantages of planning the perfect murder to coincide with what he persists is the best day of the year for murder, Halloween. The story is a blend of dark humor and crime-fiction, and it ends with a little twist that I could see coming. Very enjoyable.  

“Masks” is written by Brian Keene and Richard Chizmar and involves some kids pulling a convenience store robbery on Halloween night. There's some social commentary about Covid masks (no doubt Keene's doing) as the kids don costumes to rob the place. As the robbery ensues, one of the kids is forced to shoot a female customer that's wearing a devil mask. When the kids make the getaway, they begin noticing that all of the streets are empty. There is an eerie silence. When the kids are beckoned to the home of a friend, they see more people wearing devil masks. While the story is a bit scrambled and seems incomplete, it nonetheless provided plenty of entertainment. 

I did enjoy man of the other stories, including Kealan Patrick Burke's haunting “afraid of the dark” tale “Let the Dark Do the Rest” as well as the clever, touching doll-perspective short, “Doll”, by Ryan Van Ells. Overall, this collection has some hits and misses, but is sure to please fans of horror stories. If you are a Bates, Keene, Chizmar, and Malfi fan, then these stories alone are worth the price of admission. Recommended.

Buy a copy of this book HERE.

Atomic Werewolves and Man-Eating Plants

The pulp-fiction and men's action-adventure connoisseurs Robert Deis and Wyatt Doyle are back at it again with a brand new volume for their Men's Adventure Library series (published by New Texture). The book is aptly titled Atomic Werewolves and Man-Eating Plants and it is a beautiful collection of vintage men's adventure magazine stories about ghosts, aliens, robots, vampires, werewolves, and creepy rats. Like many of their prior offerings, this book is available in an expanded hardcover edition as well as paperback.  

The collection begins with “A Century of Weird Tales”, written by PulpFest organizer Mike Chomko. This is an informative history on Weird Tales magazine's history, including full color cover panels by the likes of Virgil Finlay, Matt Fox, and Margaret Brundage. Chomko illustrates how Weird Tales really found its identity in 1924 when Farnsworth Wright assumed the editorial role. At that point, the magazine began a prosperous creative flow populated by some of the best writers of the 20th century – Robert Bloch, Robert E. Howard, Henry Kuttner, Hugh B. Cave, and Manly Wade Wellman, as well as artists like Hannes Bok, Jack Williamson, and Margaret Brundage. 

In “Weasels Ripped Their Flesh”, horror editor, critic, and author Stefan Dziemianowicz examines the influx of early, weird pulp-fiction stories that appeared in the mid to later 20th century Men's Action-Adventure Magazines (MAMs for short). Dziemianowicz points out that these MAM editors would often browse back issues of old pulp magazines to find riveting stories they could feature in their own publications. Titles like Cavalier, Fury, Men, and Peril featured stories previously authored by the likes of H.P. Lovecraft, Ray Bradbury, and Theodore Sturgeon. The article also includes artwork by John Leone and James Bingham.

Both Deis and Doyle offer their own experienced insight on “A Turn for the Weird:, a massive 27-page essay that not only explores the richness of weird pulp-fiction stories in the pages of MAMs, but also serves as an informative introduction on the many stories that saturate this impressive short-story collection. The duo also use this medium to explore the idea of MAMs historically featuring brawny, barrel-chested heroes that were impervious to harm. They show a stark contrast between the usual flavor of MAM writing to the more harrowing horror and terror tales that were sprinkled in. In these stories, readers welcomed the change and grew to accept that these heroes were prone to “fear, panic, mutilation, and fatalism.” The text also examines how the violence and savagery of these MAM stories served as an unexpected coping tool for military veterans that predominately bought and read these publications.

The stories culled from the MAMs and presented here offer a variety of creatures, traditional horror, science-fiction, and just plain 'ole weird writing. The authors featured include Gardner F. Fox, H.P. Lovecraft, Manly Wade Wellman, Rick Rubin, and Theodore Sturgeon. For eye candy, glorious artwork from John Leone, Basil Gogos, Mark Schneider, Vic Prezio, Clarence Doore, Dwight Howe, Fernando Fernandez, John Duillo, Norm Eastman, George Cross, and Mort Kunstler to name a few.

Needless to say, if you love horror, science-fiction, pulp-fiction, MAMs, or collectively the amazing body of work created by both Robert Deis and Wyatt Doyle, then this book is a mandatory addition to your library. With a title like Atomic Werewolves and Man-Eating Plants, why wouldn't it be? 

Buy a copy of this book HERE.

Voodoo! A Chrestomathy of Necromancy

Bill Pronzini (b. 1943) saw his first novel, The Stalker, published in 1971. His writing career has flourished with over 50 stand-alone novels as well as numerous novels in his series titles like Carpenter and Quincannon and Nameless Detective. Aside from being a prolific author, Pronzini's career is often celebrated for his anthology editing. He has collaborated with the likes of Martin Greenberg, Barry Malzberg, and Carol-Lynn Waugh for nearly 100 short-story collections in genres like crime-fiction, horror, and western. One of the first Pronzini anthologies I read was Voodoo! A Chrestomathy of Necromancy. It was published as a hardcover by Arbor House in 1980.

This collection is presented in three parts. Part 1: Traditional Voodoo features stories by Cornell Woolrich, W.B. Seabrook, Robert Bloch, Carl Jacobi, and Henry S. Whitehead. Part II is Voodoo Elsewhere and Otherwise, consisting of stories by Robert Louis Stevenson, John Russell, Edward Hoch, Mary Elizabeth Counselman, Bryce Walton, and Morris West. The final part is The “Ultimate” Voodoo, which is simply one tale by Henry Slesar. 

The stories in this volume are culled from numerous pulps like Weird Tales, Dime Mystery, Rogue, and Adventure. One original story appears here, “Exu”, by Edward D. Hoch. 

In sampling the collection, I began with Robert Bloch's story “Mother of Serpents”. Pronzini's introduction states that the story was first appeared in Weird Tales in 1936. Bloch was only nineteen years of age when the story was published, two years after the author's first professional sale to Weird Tales in 1934. “Mother of Serpents” is a fictional tale based on factual events (presumably the leadership of Fabre Geffrard). It tells the story of a new, unnamed president arriving to power in Haiti. This new leader wants to remove the “old world” from the country. The narrative takes readers through the president's life as a boy, his mother's mastery of the dark arts, and the horrific event that mires his presidency in the very thing he wants to eliminate – voodoo. It's a great story that accomplishes a great deal despite the short length. Of note is the strained, bizarre relationship between the president and his mother, an element that Bloch will successfully use later in his smash hit Psycho. 

Bryce Walton was a staff correspondent for Leatherneck Magazine, and after WWII transitioned into writing for the mystery, detective, western, and sci-fi pulps. Walton's contribution to Voodoo! is his short “The Devi Doll”, which originally appeared in Dime Mystery in 1947. In the story, New York artist Earl breaks up with his girlfriend Crita, a French woman who has a hobby of voodoo. But, Crita knows that Earl really broke up with her because the new girl, Jean, is extremely wealthy. When Earl makes his case that he no longer loves Crita, she curses him. Later, Earl finds that a small, miniature version of Crita is “growing” out of his shoulder. Crita whispers terrifying things to Earl, which eventually leads to terrible things happening to Jean. Walton's writing is terrific with a smooth prose that serves as a sort of countdown to Earl's demise.   

Used copies of Voodoo! A Chrestomathy of Necromancy are out there. You can also get a real bargain by searching for the giant Arbor House Necropolis hardcover. It was published in 1981 and not only features the entirety of Voodoo!, but also collects two other Pronzini-edited anthologies about mummies and ghouls. Spooky, and darn-near mandatory for vintage-fiction readers. 

Buy a copy of this book HERE.

The Kill

New York native Alan Ryan (1943-2011) graduated from Regis High School in Manhattan and from Fordham University in The Bronx. He was an English teacher, book reviewer, and later an editor. In his writing career, he produced at least five horror novels and three short-story collections. My first experience with his literary work is the novel The Kill, which was originally published in paperback by Tor in 1982. 

The book begins with a nine year old girl running away from home during a storm. Readers learn that she is on the outskirts of the small town of Deacon's Kill. Something grabs and jerks her head, creating instant death. Then, whoever or whatever killed the girl moves back into the forest. End scene. But, unfortunately the book continues. 

A couple named Megan and Jack work and live in Manhattan and are tiring of their hectic schedules. They are invited by a friend to visit a farm in Deacon's Kill, a sort of all-night party involving another 30 or 40 city yuppies. At the farm, a woman is murdered by this same unknown person or thing when she ventures too far into the forest to urinate. The murder (and urination) is caught on tape by a voyeur/party participant and presented to the local sheriff. The odd thing is that who, or whatever this thing is, was completely invisible. Like the book's plot. 

Megan and Jack, in their infinite wisdom, decide that this farm – which just hosted a murder by an invisible monster in the forest – is an ideal place for them to move to. WTF! They both quit their jobs and move into this ordinary run-of-the-mill farm house in the middle of nowhere. They befriend the sheriff and everything seems fantastic (read that as mundane and lifeless) for the next 250 pages of this horrific 294 page paperback. The couple make love, establish new businesses, have dinner with the sheriff and his wife, make friends with the town doctor, and engage in mindless, completely dull antics for a painful amount of pages. Just when my knuckles were white from anger, something finally happens. 

Apparently, the former owner of the farm dug up some old bones that resembled a prehistoric man. How the man is now alive, invisible, and is able to track all over the forest without anyone noticing isn't relevant, so no real explanation is offered (or I slept through it). Instead, you have the girl at the beginning of the book and the chick at the party as the only main victims while the sheriff watches endless loops of the VHS tape that captured the one piss/murder. The rest of the novel is just a complete waste of time and I wish I could erase it from the annals of time. 

If I'm locked in a room by a maniac and forced to watch endless Medicare commercials or read this book...brother pass the popcorn and crank the tube up. I'd do just about anything to avoid the literary nightmare of Alan Ryan's The Kill. So should you.

Buy a copy of this book HERE.

Suburban Gothic

Bryan Smith has authored more than thirty horror and crime novels. His novel 68 Kill was adapted to film and his 2009 novel Depraved became an instant cult classic, leading to three sequels. Brian Keene earned the 2014 World Horror Grandmaster Award, two Bram Stoker awards, and the Imadjinn Award for best fantasy novel in 2016. It was just a matter of time before the two friends collaborated on a novel. 

In 2009, Brian Keene authored a paperback for Leisure called Urban Gothic. The premise had a group of kids breaking into an old row house in Philadelphia that they thought was abandoned. Unfortunately for them, a family of inbred cannibals lived in the basement. The book was an obvious ode to “grindhouse” theater flicks like Hills Have Eyes and Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I enjoyed the book years ago, so I was intrigued to learn of the book's sequel, Suburban Gothic, published in 2020. But, the backstory on the novel doesn't stop there. 

It turns out that Suburban Gothic actually connects (retcons?) Keene's Urban Gothic with Bryan Smith's horror novel The Freakshow, which was originally published by Leisure in 2007. I also read that novel, and reviewed it HERE. In The Freakshow, cosmic entities are controlling humans from a netherworld. These entities combine mayhem, torture, cannibalism, rape, etc. into a sort of game which comes to a small town in Tennessee through a traveling carnival. The book was slightly above average and written in a perverse way that I typically find distasteful. I'm not a fan of Bryan Smith.

Suburban Gothic, which is authored by both Smith and Keene, has an early explanation that the inbred cannibals from Urban Gothic are forced to move to an abandoned mall located in a sketchy crime-ridden part of Philadelphia. At the same time, Smith's crazy supernaturally-controlled entities also move into the mall. One side is occupied by these mutant freaks (humans with arachnid-like appendages, multiple heads, etc.) while the other side is the weirdo cannibals. 

Like Urban Gothic, various people enter this abandoned mall for different reasons. These disposable characters include a group of urban explorers shooting YouTube footage, a real-estate agent, and your common everyday headbanging stoners. This is a problem for the book and it's readers. None of these characters are remotely interesting, and all of them are flawed and unlikable. So, when Smith writes nasty, violent deaths for each character (I'm sure he was tasked with their violent endings), I found myself simply skipping to the next death set-up. 

Brian Keene typically isn't an extreme splatter-horror guy, but Smith's participation drags this book into uncomfortable depravity. Characters are raped sodomized, eaten, beaten, forced into various amputations, dragged across multiple hard surfaces, shot, stabbed, and, in some cases, involuntarily placed into barbaric medical experiments. At a time in my life when I can turn on any social media news platform and see brutality and death, reading the intricate details of a fishing hook ripping an anus isn't really what I find enjoyable. 

If you love shock and awe, then by all means have a great time with Suburban Gothic. For me personally, this book is just an absolute mess mired in useless death, excess violence, and horrific gore. Take a hard pass on this kind of thing. Maybe it will eventually just go away. 

Pin

Andrew Niederman (b. 1940) is the author of over 125 novels under his own name and others. He ghostwrote a handful of novels as V.C. Andrews after the real lady died and his book The Devil’s Advocate was adapted into a movie starring Keanu Reeves. Pin was his fourth novel, originally published in 1981.

Pin is told as a first-person flashback by Leon looking back on his odd adolescent years with his sister, Ursula. As adolescents, they share an imaginary (?) friend named Pin who was always there with them. Pin is an elaborate, adult-size, anatomical medical dummy come to life. It’s clear that Pin has a lot in common with their dead father with the big differences being Pin’s translucent flesh where every vein, organ and capillary can be seen.

Leon and Ursula are orphans. Their wealthy parents die in a car accident and leave a considerable fortune to the teens who continue living in the same creaky mansion in New York’s Catskills Mountains with Pin, the chatty, erudite medical mannequin who may or may not be real. The threesome are rather isolated up in the mountains living off the dead parents’ inheritance.

We are treated to flashbacks of their dysfunctional upbringing and the siblings' unconventional attitudes towards sex and desire. The sexual exploration gets rather explicit, so consider yourself warned. If you know about the incestuous work of V.C. Andrews, the novel often reads like the author was auditioning for the ghost-writing job he landed later in his career. A plot begins to develop when Ursula finds a boyfriend, and Leon is not pleased. Neither is Pin.

This paperback is so weird but also so readable. Neiderman keeps the pages turning because the reader is dying to know if we are reading a supernatural horror book or a Vietnam-era gothic about siblings experiencing a shared delusion. There’s plenty of graphic sex along the way, and the compelling weirdness doesn’t lighten up until the novels striking conclusion.

Overall, Pin is an easy recommendation if you’re looking for something completely different. It’s not particularly scary, but you won’t be able to look away. 

Buy a copy of this book HERE.

The Switch House

Tim Meyer is a hotshot young horror author from the New Jersey Shore who has been appearing on a lot of “best-of” lists over the past few years. My first exposure to his work is his 2018 short novel, Switch House.

Angela and Terry are cast on a reality show called Let’s Switch Houses!, which is pretty much what it sounds like. Interestingly, the novel takes place when the couple returns to their own New Jersey house, which as been occupied for the past eight weeks by an unknown stranger. They only learn what was happening in their house in their absence when they sit together and watch the show along with the rest of America.

Even before the episodes broadcast, it’s clear to Angela that something is off in their own house. The place wasn’t frat-party trashed, but nothing feels right. Angela explains she feels like a stranger in a familiar house. The novel is mostly told through Angela‘s third-person perspective, and the author does some interesting tricks to showcase the fact that her perceptions are very different than her husband.

The bottom line is that a witchy lady was doing witchy stuff in their house while they were gone, and now this nice couple has to live in a haunted house. Meanwhile, their lives and family tragedies are being laid bare on reality television for the world to see.

Switch House is a combination of a haunted house story and a woman slipping into madness story. There are some cool plot twists I didn’t see coming, and some genuinely unnerving moments. Fans of paranoid, female-protagonist horror, along the lines of Ira Levin’s Rosemary’s Baby, and whiplash-inducing plot twists will really enjoy this short novel. Consider it a must-read for fans of contemporary horror fiction. 

Buy a copy of this book HERE.

The Drive-In (A B-Movie with Blood and Popcorn...)

Joe R. Lansdale (b. 1951) broke onto the scene in 1981 with a full-length serial killer police procedural called Act of Love. The aptly-titled novel lived up to its name, sparking a literary romance with readers for five decades. He's penned countless novels, series installments, graphic novels, adaptations, and edited numerous anthologies. His 1988 novel The Drive-In (A B-Movie with Blood and Popcorn, Made in Texas), published by Bantam, was nominated for a World Fantasy Award. A friend and blog reader let me borrow the paperback and advised that it was a really fun read. So, I just had to try it out.

The novel is set in a small-town in rural Texas. It's Friday evening, and a giant drive-in movie theater called The Orbit is playing six movies as part of its “The All-Night Horror Show”. Protagonist Jack, who presents the story in first-person, is with a sort of “losers club” that shows up for the night's festivities. But, somewhere in the middle of movies like Texas Chainsaw Massacre and The Toolbox Murders, a weird anomaly – call it a comet or alien spacecraft – swoops down and literally covers everything surrounding the drive-in parking lot with a weird flesh-eating black goop. In essence, it is sort of like a slimy alien fence containing just the drive-in theater. Everything else is just lost in the blackness. 

Like most survival horror novels (many which borrow from this very book), the book descends into a fight for survival as the theater's audience find themselves cut-off from civilization. With only a concession stand for food – free popcorn and soda while supplies last – and a lone bathroom, needless to say that humanity quickly shows it's darker self. As the days go on, mob violence takes control with rapes, beatings, shootings (it is Texas), and various factions forming. Jack sides with The Christians until he realizes they have a secret, savage way of surviving the violence. But, things get even more bizarre, deadly, and insane when Jack's two friends become struck by some sort of alien lightning that turns them into demonic cannibals that can do some really far-out stuff. 

The Drive-In is a horrific fantasy with science-fiction elements that bring to mind all of the B-movie black and white classics from the mid-20th century. That's the idea, and Lansdale absolutely nails it. His combination of humor – unintentional or not – sets a framework for these characters to behave in outrageous ways. Aside from the sky-level fun, one could read some subtext about the drive-in movie theater disappearing by the late 80s, replaced by shopping mall caverns and standalone brick-and-mortars that didn't exude the same sort of late night, backseat enjoyment. Additionally, it could show the sharp contrast of the old B-movies compared to the graphic, more mature movies that were being released in the grindhouse 70s and 80s formula. Sort of an invasion from nowhere of a barbaric savagery that far surpassed the practical “safe” effects of black and white Hollywood. 

Two more books in the Drive-In series were published, The Drive-In 2: Not Just One of Them Sequels (1989) and The Drive-In: The Bus Tour. Additionally, all three books are published as an omnibus titled The Complete Drive-In. 

Buy a copy of this book HERE.

Halloween - The Scream Factory

The Halloween film franchise has been going strong for nearly a half-century. Who knew that a babysitter killer could spark so much interest from fans while simultaneously creating enough timelines and multiverses to compete with Marvel Comics. Depending on your level of fandom, you are just casually watching Michael Myers stalk his prey through 11 films (Halloween III doesn't count) or piecing together the various movies into separate timelines. For me personally, this is my favorite horror franchise and I watch the films religiously. In my mind, I've organized them all into various categories and timelines, but I've never bothered with the novels. 

In paperback format, there are novelizations for seven Halloween films and at least one fan-fiction novelization (Halloween 5 by Jake Martin). However, besides the novelizations, Berkley published three original paperbacks in the late 1990s – The Scream Factory (1997), The Old Myers Place (1997), and The Mad House (1998). These three novels, averaging 150 pages, were catered for young adults and featured Michael Myers doing what he does best – hunting teens in Haddonfield, IL. The books were authored by Kelly 'O Rourke (aka Kelly Reno) and aren't related to each other. These are stand-alone stories. This review is for The Scream Factory, the first of the three paperbacks. 

Ultimately, this novel only references events in the 1978 Halloween film. There is a mention of a body count, but it isn't correct. The book ignores any sequels, which makes it much easier to simply enjoy as a stand-alone horror novel. The knowledge that the Halloween film ended with Michael Myers being shot by his doctor and then disappearing is the only prerequisite needed. 

It's now 1997 and the small town of Haddonfield talks about Michael Myers as if he is an urban myth. The town's youth mostly designates the killer as a thing of legend, nothing more, nothing less. Myers hasn't been seen since 1978. High school student Lori Parker collaborates with her friend Sally to throw a large Halloween party in the basement of Haddonfield City Hall. The party, aptly titled The Scream Factory, will be a gathering of high school students and a local band (fronted by Lori's romantic interest). 

The events prior to the party leads to Myers appearance. In a series of murders, Myers begins killing some of Lori's friends and members of the town's staff. Myers is described as being covered in mud and having dirty hair, which brought to mind the imagery of “homeless” Myers in Rob Zombie's Halloween remake. Myers also does some things that are more in line with Jason Voorhees (Friday the 13th), showing supernatural strength by dragging a large tree across a highway. But, at other times he is calling Lori on the phone and making bizarre noises or placing jack 'o lanterns at various locations (with a knife). Rather odd behavior that seems to contrast with the movie versions.

The Scream Factory isn't great, nor is it scary. But, I will state for the record that this is more of an “adult” horror novel than young adult in terms of savage violence and some gore. I'm not completely convinced this is a young adult book despite the clownish cover art. If you just have to consume everything Michael Myers, then by all means read this. Otherwise, just stick to the films, novelizations, and the occasional graphic novel.

Buy a copy of this book HERE.

Chasing the Boogeyman

Richard Chizmar is a horror and suspense novelist who was plucked out of near-obscurity to collaborate with Stephen King on a couple of well-received co-authored novels. His 2022 “hunting a serial killer” book, Chasing the Boogeyman, is a clever bit of meta-fiction taking place in 1988.

The concept behind this novel is fairly audacious and unique, so pay attention or you’ll be lost from page one. First, the book is fiction - like Silence of the Lambs or any of the thousand serial killer mystery-thrillers you’ve read. Second, the book is written as if it’s a true crime paperback. Same style, formatting and pacing. The curve ball is that the main character is horror author Richard Chizmar telling the story of the killer terrorizing his home town in Maryland. This is where it gets meta. Yes, Chizmar is a fictional character in his own novel.

All of this works rather well as Chizmar takes the reader back to Edgewood, Maryland in 1988. A gruesome murder of a teenage girl snatched away from her bedroom at night has everybody terrified. And then it happens again. And again. The police are getting nowhere, and the media dubs the serial killer, The Boogeyman.

22 year-old Chizmar and his female reporter friend at the local newspaper take it upon themselves to undertake their own parallel investigation as the police seem to be chasing their tails. The progress they make creates both a bond and excuse for resentment from the local police, who don’t always take kindly to the meddling of amateur sleuths.

The solution to the mystery was straightforward and very satisfying in its execution. Chizmar has recently published a sequel called Becoming the Boogeyman that you should avoid like the plague until you fully absorb the solution to this one.

Chasing the Boogeyman is a fantastic addition to the serial killer mystery genre and is definitely worth your time. The genre has been beaten to death over the last 40 years, but somehow Chizmar’s gimmick breathes new life into the setup. Recommended. 

Buy a copy of this book HERE.

Boys in the Valley

Boys in the Valley is a terrifying 2023 horror novel by Philip Fracassi about a Catholic boy’s orphanage in 1905 Pennsylvania where an incident occurs causing a conspiratorial madness to descend upon a group of young orphans.

Much of the novel is told in the first-person by a good-hearted orphan boy named Peter, who is trying to decide between the priesthood and a romantic entanglement with a sweet girl in town. Other chapters are told in the third-person following residents of the isolated orphanage.

There are mean priests and kind priests among the staff, but they are all taken aback when the sheriff visits with an injured madman in tow. It’s unclear whether the man needs medical attention or an exorcism, but his brief visit among the orphans seems to infect a group of the boys who suddenly become violent and menacing.

The menace of the “bad group” of boys is so unnerving because they aren’t initially flesh-eating psychotics. Instead, they are whisperers and plotters who are clearly planning something evil. It’s like a gruesome Lord of the Flies where the bullies quietly kill the others in ways to inspire terror, confusion and revulsion. The madness escalates into some truly disturbing butchering.

There’s a wonderfully-complex character named Brother Johnson who is basically a criminal living as a monk. He can’t stand the boys and loves to be their disciplinarian. But when the murders begin, the former criminal may just become an ally to the “good boys” in the house who are directly under threat by the others.

Boys in the Valley is violent and unsettling, but not particularly terrifying. However, horror is a very personal genre and what scares one reader doesn’t necessarily frighten another. In any case, it’s a great action novel and definitely worth your time. Highly recommended. 

Buy a copy of this book HERE.

Lady Satan #01 - A Macabre Beginning

Warren Publishing experienced market success in the 1960s and 1970s with their take on the old EC black-and-white horror theme. At magazine size, their eye-popping roster of titles wasn't governed by the Comic Code, which allowed for more creative freedom. With magazines like Famous Monsters of Filmland, Creepy, and Eerie, the books proved to be an international success for most of its 25-year run. The publisher inspired countless titles and imitators, including Skywald Publications. 

Skywald was founded in 1970 by former Marvel Comics production manager Sol Brodsky and I.W. Publications owner Israel Waldman. During the company's short existence, 1970 to 1975, the publisher produced an assortment of horror anthology titles including Nightmare, Psycho, and Scream. Some of these titles included recurring characters, which was the case with Lady Satan.

Lady Satan, not to be confused with the 1941 character from Dynamic Comics, first appeared in the October 1973 issue of Scream. The character is featured on the issue's front cover, lavishly painted by Josep Maria Miralles (Creepy, Nightmare), and in the opening story, an origin tale called “The Macabre Beginning”. 

Readers are introduced to the young African-American woman named Anne Jackson. She lives in Massachusetts, was a high-school star athlete and academic, and is wealthy from an inheritance she received from her deceased parents' estate. With her friend accompanying her, the two drive into the city of Salem. There, they watch a macabre public performance of three cloaked men reenacting the Salem Witch Trials. In an impromptu audience participation, one of the cloaked men points to Anne to come on stage. But, when Anne walks on, she is immediately transformed into an entity known as Black Anne, the Queen of Salem Witches. 

As Black Anne, Anne Jackson discovers there is a witch in the audience, one of thirteen witches that live in a cave and worship her. When she journeys to the cave, she is provided robes and an awesome black leather outfit. She then takes the pledge to marry Lucifer and become the Bride of Satan! But, when the Devil appears, a tragedy occurs. The story ends on a cliffhanger. 

The story is penciled by the talented Ricardo Villamonte, who created amazing artwork for Secrets of Haunted House, Beowulf, Man-Bat, House of Secrets, and House of Mystery to name a few. His pencils on page six with the large panel of Jane's face is really something special. This story is written by Al Hewetson, who also worked as an associate editor at Skywald. Hewetson penned stories for Warren publishing, so his “horror mood” is certainly applicable for this ultra-dark Lady Satan story. Hewetson wrote hundreds of stories for Skywald using his name and a variety of pseudonyms. 

“The Macabre Beginning” is an excellent beginning to the Lady Satan character and possesses the same dark flavor as a Vampirella issue or an old Hammer Horror film. The character appears three more times in Skywald's comics, Scream issues #2 and #3 as well as Psycho #19. Thankfully, all of these stories are collected in one digital volume called Lady Satan 1974, published by Nuelow Games. Highly recommended, get it HERE.

Friday the 13th - Mother's Day

The Friday the 13th film franchise isn't a stranger to media tie-in fiction. Nicholas Valentin Yermakov, using the name Simon Hawke, authored four novelizations of film installments (Friday the 13th I, II, III, VI) and popular crime-fiction author Michael Avallone also authored a novelization, Friday the 13th III (using an alternate ending not filmed). Arguably, the film franchise “jumped the shark” long before 1993, but it was this year that the Jason Voorhees character ventured into an unusual area – Hell.

After seven films of Jason attacking camp counselors, the eighth film, Jason Takes Manhattan, placed the hockey-masked murderer on a yacht and in Manhattan of all things. But, as odd as that film was, it would pale in comparison to the wildly outrageous Jason Goes to Hell. 

1993's Jason Goes to Hell re-positioned the unstoppable undead character into a more supernatural universe that incorporated other people performing as the Camp Crystal Lake killer. In this film, the long rumored idea of Camp Crystal Lake being haunted or cursed comes to fruition. Jason's heart is apparently affected by a supernatural power, so when a possessed coroner takes a bite out of Jason's heart, he becomes the killer. Through the course of the film, various people are “possessed” by Jason's curse. While some fans embraced the film, others felt it went a little far and distanced itself from what made the film franchise so successful – suspense, atmosphere, terror. Jason Goes to Hell also kick-started more unusual franchise additions like Jason X (Jason in space!) and Freddy vs Jason. 

If nothing else, Jason Goes to Hell does deserve some credit for thrusting the film franchise back into media tie-in fiction after a seven year absence. In 1994, Berkley published four young-adult novels that tie-in to the events that took place in Jason Goes to Hell. These four stand-alone novels, Mother's Day, Jason's Curse, The Carnival, and Road Trip. The books were all authored by William Pattison using the pseudonym Eric Morse. In 2011, Pattison released a fifth book, The Mask of Jason Voorhees, as a free PDF download. Being a fan of the film franchise, I decided to try the books out beginning with Mother's Day.

After numerous murders, Camp Crystal Lake now lies abandoned. Somewhere in the vicinity, a hunter named Joe Travers is stalking through the forest and stumbles on a white stone. Curious about the stone, Travers begins digging beneath it and discovers a rotted cardboard box containing Jason's deceased mother's head, which is somehow alive. The head begins to talk to Joe and gives him specific instructions to obtain construction equipment to dig up Jason's hockey mask. In doing so, Joe dons the mask and becomes possessed by the spirit of Jason Voorhees. 

In Newkirk, Massachusetts, the book's young protagonist, high-schooler Carly receives an invite from a high-school dropout named Boone. The plan is for Boone, Carly, and four other kids to take a weekend trip to Camp Cystal Lake to party. Carly, a shy virgin (the prerequisite for Final Girl material) agrees to go if her mother will consent. Later, Carly discovers that Boone called her mother and pretended to be a teacher to gain permission for the trip. So, these six kids head to the abandoned Camp Cystal Lake campground where Jason Voorhees is now alive and well through the body of Joe Travers. This should be fun.

Like the film series, the campers receive a warning when they stop for gas just outside the campground. A man named Ned warns the group “...there's evil in the air all around this lake. If you live here too long, it gets in your blood, it gets you thinking bad things.” Later, readers discover how true that statement is when it is disclosed that Ned lives in a house with his mother's dead body. Obviously, the campers ignore Ned's warning and embark on the camping trip.

Pattison's storytelling is fast-paced and surprisingly violent considering this is a young-adult novel. At just 114 pages, the body count begins to rise around page 80. With six potential victims for “Jason” to prey on, the action moves around the campground with familiar kills happening in the lake's water, around the cabins, and in the dense forest. As the body-count dwindles to just Carly (not a spoiler, anyone worth their salt should realize she is the survivor), the book encompasses that same frenzied feeling executed by the various films – final girl versus Jason. The chase scenes scurry around locked cars, wrecked motorcycles, open graves, and the hiking trails around the lake. 

It was obvious that Pattison really enjoys the Friday the 13th franchise, and his writing was top-notch even with the irritating teenage point-of-view (boy-chasing, social uneasiness). In terms of the violence I alluded to earlier, the book also presents some nightmarish sequences containing slimy grotesque worms. The combination of hack 'n slash and supernatural elements was excellent. If you enjoy the film franchise, then I highly recommend Mother's Day. It has everything you know and love about the films.

Buy a copy of this book HERE. 

Coffin #01 - Death Wish

Budd Lewis (1948-2014) began his entertainment career by directing television commercials between 1970 to 1974. Beginning in 1974, Lewis wrote for Warren Publishing, contributing his dark imagination to stories in Creepy, Eerie, and Vampirella. Lewis also co-created The Rook. Later, he would write for Hollywood, including Terminator and Dark Angel, as well as animated shows like The Smurfs and The Real Ghostbusters. The focus here at Paperback Warrior is on his western hero Coffin, which first appeared in Eerie in 1974. The popularity of the hero resulted in multiple appearances in the comic magazine. The vivid, violent artwork of these stories was created by Spanish artist Jose Ortiz (1932-2013; Rogue Trooper, Judge Dredd).

If you enjoy the vicious nature of the Piccadilly Cowboys of the 1970s, including their savage titles like Edge, Adam Steele, and Apache, then Coffin is a darn-near must-read title from that same era. The character's first appearance proves to be a true origin tale called “Death Wish”, which features 12 gruesome pages of western storytelling with an obvious horror overtone (obligatory for Eerie). 

In this story, readers are introduced to Coffin, an unnamed protagonist traveling by stagecoach through the Arizona desert in 1889. In flashbacks, Coffin is a smiling polished sales representative for Sharps Rifles, with his contract being the U.S. Army. Abruptly, the stagecoach is attacked by what appears to be Native American warriors on horseback. The drivers are both killed and the coach tips over, spilling Coffin onto the hot sand. Grabbing his belongings, including a rifle, Coffin scurries to safety. From the nearby rocks and foliage, Coffin sees the other travelers, all women, savagely murdered by the warriors.

Coffin, an average guy thrust into a nightmarish scenario, mistakenly takes the path of vengeance. He tracks through the desert and finds a tribe of Native Americans. From several yards away, Coffin shoots the men with his rifle. Before disposing of the whole tribe, Coffin is ambushed by a trio of braves and is brutally beaten. But, beyond the physical abuse, Coffin is cursed by the tribe. His curse is that he can never die. He can experience horrific pain – being shot, burned, skinned, and tortured beyond recognition - but he can never die. The tribe placed this curse on him because...get this...Coffin killed the wrong tribe to avenge the death of the stagecoach travelers! Further, on the last pages of the story, readers learn the real identify of the men who attacked the coach. This surprise ending was brilliant. Coffin totally screwed up, but that's what makes the story so entertaining. He wasn't born a hero, he isn't a hero. Instead, he's an average guy who just made a mistake and it cost him dearly.

The Coffin character would re-appear in Eerie issues #67 (Aug 1975), #68 (Sep 1975), #70 (Nov 1975), #130 (Mar 1982), and #137 (Dec 1982). The concept is that Coffin will rally behind the Native American cause at a point in history when the various tribes are warring with the military and also being brutalized into accepting shitty government deals. He also becomes a lone-avenger fighting insane religious cults and other nefarious predators. The Eerie reprints are available by Dark Horse and feature the Coffin stories.

Someone's Watching

Andrew Neiderman is a Paperbacks from Hell kinda guy. He was born in 1940 and became a best-selling novelist with his 19th career novel, The Devil's Advocate, which was later adapted into the 1997 film starring Al Pacino and Keanu Reeves. Before that, he was writing horror paperbacks with covers featuring dolls, skeletons, haunted houses, and killer dogs. In total, he has authored nearly 50 novels, all of which are either horror or suspense. He was even able to temporarily ghostwrite under the name V.C. Andrews, which is like a legal ticket to print money. Needless to say, the guy is doing okay with the bank tellers. My only experience reading his stuff is a creepy looking 1983 horror paperback from Pocket Books called Someone's Watching. 

The book is set in a rural small town in northern New York and features two protagonists, 18-year old mechanic Marty and his step-sister, fifteen year-old high-schooler Judy. Immediately, your mind is going back to the mid-20th century sleaze paperbacks from Midwood that fixated on the 'ole brother-sister-swingding. Your mind isn't playing tricks on you, because sure enough Marty and Judy get to swingin' when Marty's alcoholic deadbeat father Frank marries Judy's gullible imbecile mother Elaine. One happy family.

So Frank is a drunk pervert 99% of the day, which makes it really uncomfortable for innocent Judy. After moving into Frank's house, Judy confides in nice guy Marty that she feels as if Frank is wanting to rape her. Marty, who knows his Dad is a total douche, sympathizes with Judy and promises to protect her in case Frank gets out of hand. With Elaine and Marty out of the house, it's just a matter of time before Frank gets randy. When Marty returns home, he catches Frank in the midst of raping Judy. Grabbing the closest blunt object to repel a rapist, Marty clunks Frank over the head. Hard. Frank hits the ground and Marty totally panics.

Like a good 1950s crime-noir tale, Marty refuses to see the logic of summoning the police to explain Judy's rape and ensuing scuffle. Instead, they do what any step-siblings in love do – they pack their bags and hit the fugitive highway to live and love. Here's where things get pretty darn creepy and horrifying in this vintage horror paperback. 

The duo decides the best place to hide is an old abandoned resort area in the Catskill Mountains. It's here that a sprawling hotel once thrived with a casino, baseball field, and deluxe swimming pool. But, decades ago the place went under financially and the bank repossessed it. Oddly, aside from dust, broken light fixtures, and black mold, most of the complex is still fully furnished and usable. Oh, and there's a homicidal mentally-disturbed person living in the attic. That's sort of the problem right there. The murderer.

Approximately 100 pages are spent on Judy and Marty exploring the old hotel and learning more about its history. The only other person besides the three of them (Judy, Marty, Killer) is an old man that owns the hotel. You see he is also mentally ill and living in the hotel thinking it is still thriving and filled with happy tourists. In his dementia, he doesn't know any other way besides continuing to work at the hotel and providing support for his imaginary workers and guests. This old man has a son-in-law (real guy) that randomly delivers food via the back door. 

While Neiderman spends a great deal of time on Marty and Judy, including some tepid sex scenes, most of the book is divided into perspectives of different characters. The first is obviously Marty and Judy, but the second, and most interesting, is the perspective of the deranged lunatic living in the building's attic space. This guy's identity is relatively unknown for most of the book, and his mental headspace is a perverted creepy wonderland. Think of being trapped in the mind of say...Norman Bates (Psycho). The narrative slowly builds to the inevitable confrontation, when all three parties eventually run into each other in the massive hotel. There's also another character that eventually ends up there too, but I won't spoil it for you here. 

Listen, this isn't the best horror or suspense novel you'll read. But, the idea of having an abandoned resort hotel as a sprawling “do what you want” wonderland is pretty darn amazing. The aspect of hotel exploration was really intriguing, and it compares to the more superior novel Creepers by David Morrell. When it wants to be creepy and psychologically enthralling, it is. Unfortunately, the old man's participation in the narrative was a real downer. The novel would have worked better with just the three characters. But, overall, this one is worth reading. 

Buy a copy of this book HERE.

Death Tour

In Stephen King's Danse Macabre, the 1978 horror novel Death Tour is described as “funny/horrible”. The book, authored by a rather obscure guy named David J. Michael, made an appearance in Grady Hendrix's Paperbacks from Hell, and is often a novel lumped in erroneously with the “fall, mauled, and clawed” animal-attack genre that permeated the 1970s and 1980s. No matter which cover used, the hardback version published by Bobbs-Merrill Company in 1978 or the NEL 1980 paperback (painting by Bob Martin), both versions suggests the book feeds the urban myth of raging, ravenous alligators attacking unsuspecting maintenance workers and sewage tourists (they exist!). 

Unlike David Hagberg's 1976 genuine sewer-dwelling creature-feature Croc, reviewed right HERE, Death Tour isn't really a gator-munchin' tale at all. It just seems that way.

Tom Marsh is a journalism student that leads a five-member band of spunky production workers contributing to the University, a college news-rag. It's a hip group of kids, cleverly calling themselves Five-Star, that drive around in a hearse to investigate sensational newsworthy incidents. Tom's girlfriend Mary is in the group, and their relationship is central to the narrative. Mary's father, a disgruntled sanitation manager that oversees shit (literally), is overprotective and absolutely despises Tom, aka Academic Scholar. 

Through Mary, Tom learns that there is a real possibility that alligators are ravaging the city's sewer pipes. You see, this was a thing that started in New York City in the 1970s, when people would purchase baby alligators from pet stores. When responsibility and space became too cumbersome, owners flushed their beloved reptiles down the toilet where they grew into monstrous creatures devouring underpaid union workers. The flushing of the reptiles probably happened, but nothing resembling the mass hysteria created by the film Alligator (1980). 

Soon, the Five-Star gang are driving their hearse to a nearby manhole cover where they descend into the madness with a dead duck and lots of camping gear. While the hunt for a gator was fun, the narrative was really bogged down with a lot of filler and sludge. I almost threw in the towel...or toilet paper...but by 100 of 193 pages, this novel rose through the mediocre crap to be totally badass. 

It turns out that alligators may or may not be in the sewer, but the real menace is human. When one of the group is impaled with a metal spear, the Five-Star gang discover a grizzled, cloaked human living in this nasty underwater dwelling. Does Death Tour become Hunter's Blood in the sewers? It's not quite the “cannibals hunting humans” gimmick you're thinking of. But, there is definitely a similar cool vibe throughout the book's third act. I was pleasantly surprised to learn what the real menace was and it neatly tied up an earlier plot development.

By no means is Death Tour riveting, well-written action-adventure. Nor is it a shocking, white-knuckle terror-ride. It doesn't have to be. Instead, this obscure novel demanded my attention and I was well-rewarded with a fun reading experience. This was really enjoyable and I highly recommend hunting down a copy. Don't listen to Stephen King. It isn't funny or horrible, it's just a damn good time.

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Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

Frank Lambirth (1928-2007) earned his M.A. at the University of Kentucky, then began a career as a high school teacher while also lecturing at UC Davis. Lambirth directed numerous melodramas performed by students and faculty, and in the mid-1980s, he formed the successful Puget Sound Writers Guild, a nonprofit that offered guidance, teaching and feedback for creative writers. While publishing at least two novels under his own name, Lambirth created various pseudonyms, developed drafts and novels using those names, and then would sell the pseudonym. He considered it saleable property. 

While teaching, he once taught a course in the supernatural. He would spend hours with his students sitting in supposedly haunted places conducting field studies. Perhaps his keen interest in the supernatural propelled his writing career. The only two novels I've located with Lambirth's name is Behind the Door (1988) and Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep (1989), both of which are horror. Owning both books, I decided to try Lambirth's writing with the latter novel, originally published as a paperback by Popular Library with cover-art by Mark and Stephanie Gerber.

In the book's opening pages, readers are introduced to protagonist Linc Wilhite. Through a hazy presentation, Wilhite's backstory is saturated with various memories of a love lost, a regretful childhood, an estrangement from his father, and a murky hospital stay. The author only fills in these blank spaces in the narrative's second-half, with one major detail coming near the book's finale. At 231 pages, it's a long road to get there. But, the narrative's central story is Wilhite's experiences in a new job serving as a caretaker in a rural area known as Stone Warrior Island.

Wilhite accepts a job as a lone caretaker for two vacation houses off the coast of the Pacific Northwest. The island is submerged in creepy folklore about Satanism, murder, and a spectral bird, all of which are insanely broadcast by the island's former caretaker, a deranged man who warns Wilhite that Satan lives on the island. Brushing off these ramblings, Wilhite takes the job and is flown to the destination to prepare the houses for the owners' upcoming vacations and a family of renters from New York.

During a few days of isolation, Wilhite – and the reader – explores the houses, the surrounding forest, and the various locks and keys required to enter certain areas. The conclusion is that this place is truly in the middle of nowhere. But, Wilhite receives the New York family of visitors soon and the customary meet and greet ensues. The father is a stressed businessman hounded by his wife, two daughters, and a son. After a warm welcome, things turn sour when Wilhite is invited to join the family for dinner. This altercation, which I won't spoil here, leads Wilhite to question the family's intentions. 

Lambirth's ultra-creepy factor settles in at the halfway point. Through the windows, Wilhite notices that the family is camped in the den, completely stationary, watching hours upon hours of television - on their vacation to the great outdoors. After two solid days of television, Wilhite sneaks a closer look and is horrified at his discovery. Something murderous is stalking Stone Warrior Island.

Do you recall all of those great slasher films of the late 70s and early 80s? For example, when Laurie Strode ventures across the street near the end of John Carpenter's original Halloween? The house is quiet and foreboding, then she hears a creaking as if someone is moving upstairs. You and I both know that Myers is upstairs in the dark. This book works at that atmospheric level. Wilhite, who is basically the only voice the reader hears for most of the book, is left in isolation with a presence that exists off the page. The signs are all there – items shifted around, doors unlocked, footsteps in the house, mysterious fires – but it's all a mystery on who or what it is. Additionally, when a young girl appears, the book reminded me of that great 1970s horror film Let's Scare Jessica to Death. But, it isn't all great.

As good as Lambirth is with creating spooky, unnerving atmospheric horror, he isn't a fabulous storyteller. He shines with descriptive details, describing each scene with vibrant colors and calculating each footfall to the timing of the character's heartbeat. The author is mesmerizing when it comes to painting a room. Yet, dialogue and the character's recollections of the past were nothing short of awful. Thankfully, most of the book is just the reader in the headspace of Wilhite. But, when other characters interact, the writing is amateurish and wonky. It's really a mismatch of sheer greatness and pompous excess. 

The verdict? Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep was a fun reading experience. It was haunting, cerebral, descriptive, atmospheric, and most importantly, it stayed with me long after the last page was read. Despite the clunky writing, the novel served its purpose quite well. It just isn't an absolute gem. I'm not dismissing Lambirth and plan on reading his other horror novel soon.

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The Tracks

The small fictional Texas town of McGregor Falls is a railroad stop for a large company called SWR. When an SWR employee is found eviscerated in an empty boxcar, Sheriff Cotton Briggs is called out to investigate. The coroner, and eyewitnesses, present convincing arguments that the man's death may have resulted from some sort of animal attack. The most indisputable evidence is that two high school boys were on the scene during the attack. One of the kids, Travis, escaped the animal, but found himself scratched by the strange beast. 

Author Lyn Kelly swaps the narrative into different perspectives through the course of 350ish pages, ranging from the main characters like Travis and Briggs to various law-enforcement, parents, and other high school students. The plot's development, saturated with horror, violence, and mystery, incorporates the present day events with those in the past. In a gripping backstory, a group of disenchanted Vietnam War veterans form a unique train hobo club called the United Riders of America (URA). But, as details emerge, this club may have ties to the present day “animal” carnage plaguing McGregor Falls.

The Tracks is an excellent creature-feature that welds together genre tropes of crime-fiction and horror. In the forefront is the metamorphosis that Travis undergoes, from shy adolescent to Teen Wolf sports star. His relationship with two girls was a pleasant distraction, but the crime-noir aspect of the story was the most compelling. Briggs' connection to the beast was a pleasant surprise, and the details submerged in the 1970s URA group was just so rewarding as a key piece to the overall story. Aside from the book's final two pages, which wraps up decades of character history, I'm really hoping the author takes a hard look at writing a sequel. In the meantime, The Tracks is a highly recommended horror and crime-fiction thriller. 

Buy a copy of this book HERE.

Out of the Night

Author Patrick Whalen is a former Army paratrooper and social worker. In the late 1980s and early 1990s, Whalen authored four classic horror paperbacks for Pocket Books - Monastery (1988), Out of the Night (1990), Night Thirst (1991), and Death Walker (1992). Thankfully, these out-of-print books were resurrected by Cemetery Dance and now exist as affordable ebooks. My first experience with the books is Out of the Night.

The book begins by introducing all of the key players that will play a prominent role in this supernatural narrative. First is Sheriff Henry Sutton, a capable hero that is a former Chicago police officer. The small town of Ravina, California placed their trust in Sutton to keep their streets safe and it is a vow that Sutton doesn't take lightly. Second is a man named Cable, who just happened to stop off in Ravina during the city's worst week ever. He's a newly divorced archaeologist on his way to meet a longtime friend and industry associate named Larchmont. Rounding out the cast of characters is the town doctor, an Air Force coroner, and several of Sutton's deputies.

So, what does Ravina have to offer this diverse group of people? Zombies. Demons. Unholy minions from Hell. Oh, and twin little people that run the town's graveyard and are responsible for bringing an ancient order of Old Gods into our universe for death and total destruction, likeStranger Things. 

Out of the Night was a mesmerizing, barbaric reading experience that left me cringing after every blood-soaked page. Whalen's writing smoothly enveloped the chapters with an addictive, plot-propulsive story that incorporated Middle Eastern mythology, small-town Americanism, the heavy burden of responsibility, and the more intimate details of love and love lost. It was a wonderful blend of various storylines, mixed with a fantastic selection of characters, that made this such a treat to read. But, it isn't for the weak. The graphic violence, gore, and stark supernatural terror required a somewhat strong stomach. But, if you enjoy other authors of Whalen's era, like Dean R. Koontz, Dan Simmons, John Saul (he’s way more tame), and Rick Hautala, then Out of the Night has to be your next read.

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The Dark Hour

In the beginning of K.J. Young's The Dark Hour, set in the 1970s, a young guy named Mark is attempting to secure a brand new job. He finds himself interviewing for a home health aide position at a deteriorating mansion in the bad section of town. The job seems simple enough, pays well, and mostly consists of assisting the primary caregiver, a young woman named Lisa, take are of two elderly siblings named Roy and Alma. She'll clip the toenails and trim the ear hair, he can just do the easy stuff.

Like a terrifying prophetic warning, Lisa advises Mark that she feels that something isn't quite right about Roy and Alma. She claims there are weird photographs on the mansion's unused upper floors. Seconding the sentiment is a hippy sketchy neighbor that warns Mark to stay away. But, Mark slowly becomes entranced by Roy and Alma's past lives as magicians, and quickly becomes infatuated with the idea of wealth. Roy and Alma have a tremendous amount of money, own a pricey sports car, and seem to take a liking to Mark as if he is a family member.

Mark notices that Roy and Alma belong to a weird society that seems incapable of aging. When Lisa flings herself off the top of the mansion, the narrative escalates to introduce Mark's girlfriend Michelle, and her new role as Roy and Alma's friend and health aide. Is she leapfrogging Mark to capture a possible inheritance?

The Dark Hour is an average thriller that uses old-school gothic horror tropes to propel the narrative. The central mystery is easy to figure out, and Mark and Michelle's involuntary participation in their “eternal youth” is an overused literary plot that dates back centuries. But, Young's writing is enthralling enough and has a unique twist that makes the chief protagonist unlikable until the end. This concept challenges the reader's allegiance to the character and makes for an interesting presentation. Overall, if you like this sort of modern goth (like Darcy Coates), then The Dark Hour should be a pleasant experience. 

Buy a copy of this book HERE.