Flame Tree Press, gearing up for an epic 2020, is rereleasing Brian Kirk's debut novel in just a few days, and I've just turned the last page of this breathtaking experience.

The novel revolves around breakthroughs in the treatment of patients at the Sugar Hill Psychiatric Hospital. If this new treatment is a success, it will change the way we look at mental health and schizophrenia in particular. Like any good story dealing with these types of topics, there is a lot of focus around the ethics involved. I appreciated the many discussions about treating the patients as human beings, and administering various treatments and therapies with these ideas in mind.

The story takes us places towards the end that, in my decidedly non-expert opinion, are in the realms of fringe science. Quick aside, I love books, movies, etc. that deal with fringe science. A very fair portion of the second half of the book is Brian Kirk messing with your mind, performed in an expert way. Take this as a mild spoiler, but most of these parts deal with various levels of hallucinations. Kirk makes it weird, but never loses the reader, even this part carries on for nearly 100 pages. Not an easy task.

The story is top shelf, but the characters are what really make it work. Dr. Eli Alpert and Dr. Alex Drexler are our main two characters. The two have different ways of looking at their jobs, and also very different motivations. It makes for some unique dynamics throughout, and ultimately is what makes We Are Monsters such a rewarding read. Kirk also does a wonderful job with Angela, a character that it seems we're set up to dislike, but proves to be a really strong addition to the story with compelling backstory.

I really enjoyed We Are Monsters. It's a psychological thriller that's a bit different than anything else I've read recently. It's also propelled Mr. Kirk's Will Haunt You up my must-have list.

I received an e-book from the publisher for review consideration. 



There's something inherently terrifying about setting your story in a psychiatric hospital. Old, new, abandoned, inhabited. It's just a scary place. Anthony Hains sets the first story in his Nightshade Chronicles in Saint Edward's Hospital, mainly in the pediatric wing.

Cole Nightshade, our titular character, has been committed in 1962 following some false allegations put forth by the foster family he was with. The 1960's setting works perfectly for the story for a couple reasons, one of which I'll hit later. The first is the way kids are treated by adults, and are able to be simply committed, is more believable given the time frame. The horrible things that adults do to kids is a theme throughout, and it is very thoughtfully executed.

The story revolves around Cole coming to terms with supernatural ability. What exactly that ability entails is best left to the reader's discovery. From the outset, we are given lots of extremely creepy situations, some horrifying inside-the-asylum imagery, and the illusion that this story will be a purely supernatural affair. There is plenty of that, but rest assured there's a whole other depth to this tale. This depth makes it a tough read at times, especially as a parent, but is rewarding.

One of the big strengths of this book is in it's cast of children. They quickly build an It or Stranger Things-type camaraderie that helps the reader genuinely invest in all that goes on. Certain parts of the story hit real part because of that establishment.

It's no secret that this is the first book in a series. It says so right on the front cover. This leaves the reader looking for clues regarding where it might go next, but Hains doesn't furnish us with a clear-cut answer. Instead he leaves us with possibilities. This is the other reason the 1960's setting works so well. We end a relatively self-contained story with various places we could travel to next. Who knows? We might have even had a sneak peek at book 3 or 4 in the series.

Book 1 in The Nightshade Chronicles: Nightshade's Requiem is out now.

I was given a copy of this title by the author for review consideration.

Cutting straight to the chase, this is the best collection of short fiction I have read this year. No mean feat in a year that saw the release of books chock full of short stories from both Paul Tremblay and Joe Hill. Alan Baxter has put such a fantastic variety on display here, highlighting monsters of all types, shapes, and sizes as well as finding a myriad of different ways to examine humanity. If that sounds like a vague description of the stories contained within, that’s because it is. I assure you there’s nary a skip in the bunch, but please permit me to shine a spotlight on some of my favorites.

Exquisite – Not for the faint of heart, this one. I can’t even say I loved it per se, but it will unquestionably stick with me. Brutal depiction of just what people are capable of, and not just from one point of view either.
Crossroads and Carousels – This story I did love. This is a really excellent variation on the ageless devil-looking-to-buy-a-soul tale. The musician in me may have caused some bias here. This is one of the prime examples in the collection that shows this author can do a bit of tugging at the heartstrings as well as just making bad things happen.
How Father Bryant Saw the Light – I enjoyed the hell out of every aspect of this story, but it’s most notable for the Gangle Man. Baxter created a monster/antagonist for this story that is ab-so-lute-ly horrifying. “Except he wants my eyes.”
The Goodbye Message – I was able to figure out pretty early on what was happening in this story. That’s not one of my strengths. I generally find myself immersed and not necessarily trying to guess what the ending will be. The point? Despite knowing where this was heading, the execution was perfection, and got me emotionally invested in seeing it through to the end.
Crying Demon – The atmosphere and general vibe that Baxter establishes in Crying Demon is so genuinely creepy. In a way, this story is the Ring but with video games. Holy hell, is it ever good.
In Vaulted Halls Entombed – The first 2/3rd’s or so follow a military unit under attack by something supernatural and malicious. The way the scope of what’s happening expands toward the end is something to behold. We get a glimpse of a completely different world, but only a glimpse. The utilization here of the fear of the unknown just plain works.
Waters Strangely Clear – I’m not a huge fan of Lovecraft. As much as I love fiction that establishes lore and mythology, I just can’t get into it. Here, Baxter crafts a very Lovecraftian yarn that I loved to death. Like the previous story, we get to see a very small portion of a much larger world, and the implications are what turns the gears of the story.

Served Cold truly reads like a curated collection. Almost as though Alan Baxter sifted through hundreds of his own stories to find the 16 best examples of what he was capable. Perhaps he did, although it sounds exhausting. Or maybe this guy is just that damned good at writing a short story. I guess I’ll have to grab Crow Shine and find out.


If I were to write a serialized novel, I'd imagine the hardest part would be pacing. As opposed to a 500 page continuous novel, each separate entry needs to grab the reader with the opening, keep their attention for the next 80 pages or so, and then end in a way that leaves you anxious for the next installment. It's not just any apocalyptic doorstop novel that could work as well as John Taff's The Fearing has so far.

Part 3 picks up with Mark and Monday, and finds them in a camp made up of survivors of the various events that occurred throughout the United States. We learn an awful lot about these two this time around, and glimpse just how important they may be to the final product. I appreciated (enjoyed seems inappropriate here) hearing about the other large-scale events that the Fearing unleashed but the characters we've been following weren't privy to. This camp is where we end up spending most of our time in part 3 and in addition to opening the reader up to a whole wide world of fears we get some major league foreshadowing about what's to come in the finale.

To my mind, this is the strongest entry so far at delivering straight up nightmare fuel. Part of this is due sheer variety. In a series that hits us with a wide number of different fears, this one gives us a taste of an everything-at-once barrage and a preview/hope for what's ahead. Without spoiling, there is one monster in particular that made my teeth hurt and will definitely rob me of a bit of sleep.

Despite spending a great deal of our time at camp, and meeting a new, formidable, and instantly unlikeable antagonist, we do get to check in with the other characters we've grown to care about. Taff does such a fantastic job of writing this meet-up in the aftermath of the events of book 2. The king of pain is pretty good at making us feel. Lest we forget Adam and Jelnik, Book 3 drops a pretty big bomb about their involvement before it leaves them to be revisited in Earth & Ember.

Ultimately, this installment does everything it needs to. It moves the story forward and gets our characters one more step toward their endgame, ups the anxiety in terms of what these horrors and fears can do and how they can manifest, and leaves its' readers, in equal measure, ecstatic over tackling the final part and wistful that it's almost over. Thankfully, book four is supposed to be about 200 pages. The end is just about nigh, my friends, and I've loved every damn minute of it so far.

This was one of my most anticipated reads of the year, and I’m reluctant to admit I was almost unable to fit it into 2019. I’m going to lead off saying I will be rereading this at some point. There is just so much substance packed into 200 pages of ultra-violent, fever dream insanity. There is simply no way I could have caught every nuance in one go.

Nicholas Day treats us to four interweaving vignettes littered with philosophy, religion, violence, and gore. We’re introduced to monstrous creatures that should be mundane, but instead hunt with a terrifying intelligence and insatiable appetite. We meet decent people who we know won’t be spared. Our primary antagonist is truly one-of-a-kind. It’s all too tempting to say he’s evil incarnate, but it doesn’t quite go far enough. The heinous deeds contained within almost come as an over-the-top caricature of evil, minus any trace of humor.

I think of the different parts of Grind Your Bones to Dust vignettes because although there are a number of connections, they read as separate events. Part four does such a nice job of bringing all of the events we’ve been privy to so far, to a conclusion that satisfies. One of my favorite parts was the oft repeated mantra “and he/she would never be any deader”. It reminded me of something one might see in a Vonnegut or Palahniuk book, and I found myself consistently anticipating the next instance.

Grind Your Bones to Dust is not a beach-read type of book. This is a story that unceremoniously demands your undivided attention, and shan’t hesitate to reach out and grab it if it’s not offered.

I had the pleasure of reading Pretty Marys All in a Row back in November, and I couldn’t get enough of Gwendolyn Kiste’s unique brand of prose. I’m not sure how else to describe the way she writes other than beauty incarnate.

In The Rust Maidens, Kiste could be describing a Cleveland neighborhood or setting down intimate details about a childhood friendship, and she puts the same amount of care into every phrasing, every paragraph. Phoebe, our main character, is so excellently fleshed out and laid bare before us, we can’t help but follow everything that she experiences with eager anticipation.

The story contained within has notes of isolation and a truly original premise. It does a wonderful job of switching back and forth between Phoebe as a teenager and Phoebe as an adult. Where so many books haphazardly throw the reader back and forth between past and present, Kiste accomplishes this with grace.

When all was said and done, I had goosebumps and found myself feeling melancholy, but also happy and fulfilled. This was a story experienced rather than just a story read.

From the cover to the plot to everything inside, this book was exactly what I wanted it to be. I have a soft spot for southern swamp horror, oddly specific I know, and Carol Gore's Infested does a fine job of scratching it.

The bugs in this particular swamp are growing bigger and more aggressive. It starts with mosquitoes and then moves onto horseflies, wheel bugs, ticks, and all sorts of other creepy crawlers that are bad enough at their normal size. (Side note: if you don't know what a wheel bug is, have fun googling while you read about what they do to the people in this story.)

Our main character struggles with family issues and flirting with a co-worker. She really doesn't need this shit, but steps up to combat the big bug problem when no one else will. The results see big horrible bugs doing unthinkable things to human bodies. This book is fun as hell, but gives you enough plot, and plenty of twists and turns to keep you more than engaged.

Good luck reading this one without constantly batting at phantom itches on the back of your neck.


I'm afraid I don't know much about Shannon Felton, a fact that I expect will change. Here's what I do know:
1. Her debut novella is published by Silver Shamrock, something that nobody in the horror community takes lightly.
2. Her story Devil's Dip from Midnight in the Graveyard was a phenomenal opening to a phenomenal collection.
3. She either grew up in or near a place like Stewartville or has an extremely admirable and fertile imagination.
Stewartville is a place where everyone either works in the prison or, well, is in the prison. Meth is a serious issue, and not just among adults, and the kids that live there haven't got a chance. It's a desolate place with a history.
Casey, the voice of the story, has a mom in jail and lives with his older brother. When his friend, Denny, finds a secret passageway in the basement, Denny wants to explore it, against Casey's better judgement. From here on out, things in this already troubled town become increasingly strange and violent, bounding towards its' seemingly inevitable conclusion.
Felton did such an incredible job crafting the town of Stewartville and making it feel lived-in. The reader can feel the lack of hope in it's residents and the sense that they have come to terms with the way things are looms large. Later in the story the violence comes in waves, but is genuinely surprising and upsetting every time.
The Prisoners of Stewartville is one of the strongest offerings from Silver Shamrock Publishing yet, and trust me, that's really saying something. I have no qualms about recommending this book to anyone and everyone. Not for nothing, this is also up there with my favorite Kealan Patrick Burke covers, and something I'm going to require in paperback.

I received an e-Book from the publisher for review consideration.

At the end of February, Catherine Cavendish and Flame Tree Press will be releasing The Garden of Bewitchment. This novel is a period piece, and although I’m not familiar with Ms. Cavendish’s other work, I sincerely doubt this is her first foray into historical horror. Cavendish writes 1893 with a certain sense of comfort and drops her characters right into the world she’s created.

The story focuses around twins, Evelyn and Claire, who live together after the deaths of their parents. The girls spend their days collaborating on a story in the vein of their literary idols, the Brontë sisters. The sisters generally live in harmony until a stranger and a game start to make their way into Evelyn and Claire’s lives.

This novel has some spectacularly creepy imagery and Cavendish excels in writing scenes dealing with hallucinations and supernatural happenings. The reader does not have an easy time figuring out exactly who and what can be trusted when being walked through the events of the story. While the supernatural aspects of the titular game/toy were somewhat strange, Cavendish worked them into the narrative with relative ease.

My only issue with the story is that there is a development late in the story that is foreshadowed, maybe forecasted might be a better word, so hard and so early that I thought it must be a red herring and couldn’t possibly come to pass. Unfortunately, I was mistaken. Granted, there was an extra wrinkle when the events finally transpire, but it felt like a little more subtlety would have gone a long way at certain places in the story.

If you enjoy period horror that dabbles in the supernatural, but maintains one foot squarely in the realm of psychological horror, this just might be the book for you.

I was given a copy of this book by the publisher for review consideration.

At the beginning of this book, author Jessie Rose gives the reader a page of trigger warnings. If you consider that a spoiler, there is enough notice at the top of the page to allow you to proceed without foreknowledge of what you're getting yourself into. You should know, however, that this content warning means business. Inside this book, you're going to come across just about every objectionable thing you could imagine.

If there are certain themes and happenings you don't like to read about, there's a fair chance this book might not be for you, but if you like books in the Ketchum tradition that aren't afraid to go there, then I can't recommend this highly enough.

Atomic Love doesn't fit traditionally into the horror genre, but I recently heard an episode of This is Horror where Bob Pastorella posited that horror fiction is less about what scares you and more about what scares the characters. With this sentiment in mind, the story at hand is positively terrifying.

Our main character is Jenny Stone, an artist who manages to catch the eye of the biggest rock star of the 1980's. What follows is a detailed description of approximately ten years of their relationship. Reed, the rockstar in question, is a bad dude. The author pulls from what is unquestionably a vast knowledge of 1980's figures and their legendary exploits to craft an amalgamation that embodies the decade and genre, but goes a step further. Maybe a few steps.

As a reader, it would be very easy to chalk many of the things that happened throughout the story up to exaggeration and an extreme view of potential true life events. What got under my skin the most, is the extreme plausibility of everything that happens here. Reed is a sociopath, no question, but he's also a prime example of the way things can go when someone is unchecked because of celebrity, and when society at large does not respect women or take them seriously.

Jenny is by no means a perfect character, but just like the recent True Crime, by Samantha Kolesnik, we see a character make choices that we wouldn't condone or understand, and have to simply realize that we may not be able to comprehend what they've been through.

The results of these deep character studies left me broken and feeling all the feels a number of times. Seriously, I can't even count how many different parts of this 409 page book hurt to get through. Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but I can't pinpoint another book that went 400 pages and managed to hit me so hard the entire time.

At the risk of repeating myself, if you think you can take the heat, this book needs to find its way into your kitchen. Just don't say I didn't warn you.

I received a copy of this book from the author for review consideration.