I have mixed feelings about my experiences with Bob Ford and Matt Hayward. Don’t tar and feather me, yet. Let me explain. Despite having books by each author on my shelf, this is my first time reading either one. While I’m a bit embarrassed about that, I kind of like the way that the two styles blended together as I remained blissfully unaware of which aspects came from which author. The storytelling is masterful in this book. Come to think of it, masterful may not cut it. Hayward and Ford take a really good and unique story, and elevate it to the next level with the execution on display.
Ford and Hayward create a place in the Lowback Trail that warrants repeat visits, not necessarily just because of the locale, but because of the people. Joe is an ex-junkie and ex-con, and yet we’re unequivocally on his side just a chapter or two in. His friendships with Kenny and Ava are entertaining and put a smile on our faces, but the heart of the story comes from Joe’s relationship with his Pop. It’s written in such a subtle way that the reader doesn’t realize until later in the book just how invested they are in the father-son dynamic. As you might imagine, with the son having the issues he does, their relationship is a complicated one, but the love on display allowed this story to work on me.
The authors have a sequel story coming out later this year in Lady Luck and they’ve said that there’s no finite amount of stories they might have to tell in this world. What works so well here, is that Ford and Hayward have created a world where magic is possible. The jar of wishes the story revolves around sets a precedent for what is and isn’t possible. It may or may not figure into future books, but the idea of grounded characters with just a hint of fantasy has this reader very excited for what comes next.

Possession, slashers, gothic evil house terror. Is there anything that Hailey Piper doesn’t do well? The correct answer is no.
An Invitation to Darkness picks up with (former) Captain Jamie Thames discovering that an abandoned manor isn’t so abandoned, and falling head over heels for the occupant, Elizabeth Leavenworth. Elizabeth’s father also lives in the house, and it gets a little bit complicated from there.
The story starts written in an old-fashioned gothic style. The time fits the story nicely and showcases Piper’s ability to immerse herself in the writing, bending the narrative to her will.
The tone is consistent, but the subject matter gets weird and truly terrifying. Piper perpetually shows, and not just in this story, that she doesn’t shy away from showing the gore when it counts.
At its heart, this a story about a woman who will go to extreme lengths for the love of her life. We’ve read that story before, but not quite like this.

This book hit the world on May 8th, packaged with the type of eye-catching cover I’ve come to expect on a Michael Clark release, as well as a whole lot of anticipation. Thankfully or not, depending on how you look at it, I’ve only been privy to The Patience of a Dead Man trilogy since March. As much as I missed out on the first wave of excitement, each time I finished a book in the series I was able to take solace in the fact that the next one wasn’t far behind.

Well, all good things must come to an end and that solace is gone because book three, Anger is an Acid, brings the intertwined stories of Tim Russell, Holly Burns, and Mildred Wells to a head. I’m going to start off by saying that while I’m not sure how the rest of the world will react to the way Clarks wraps it up, I loved it. The characters, all of them, were too nuanced for the last twenty or so pages to go any other way. We’ve had three books to get to know and care for Tim, and the decisions he makes at the end of the journey are unexpected, but serve to bring his story full circle. Oh, how I would love to delve into spoiler territory at this point, but I’ll spare you.

Anger is an Acid picks up immediately after the end of Dead Woman Scorned. As the shortest book in the series, this one employs a pace that doesn’t really let up until the last page. There’s simply no time for that to happen. Even elements that seem to be superfluous to the story all tie together when the third act of the book rolls into the station.

One of the highpoints of this entire series is Clark’s ability to write tense, eerie scenes. He’s able to mimic the type of cinematic experience where you watch a character slowly travel down a dark hallway, absolutely convinced that at any second, something dreadful is going to emerge from the darkness. You don’t know when it’s going to happen, you aren’t even assured that it absolutely is going to happen, but you sit on the edge of your seat while it plays out. The first book gave us several of these cinematic achievements, and there is yet another one in Anger is an Acid where I finished the chapter, then flipped back just to see what exactly Clark is doing to pull this tactic off with such success.

I think my favorite book in the series remains book two, but a well-deserved tip of the cap goes out to Michael Clark. He hooked this reader with The Patience of a Dead Man, surprised the hell out of me with Dead Woman Scorned, and wrapped it all up in what I consider to be a highly satisfying manner with Anger is an Acid.

As a shameless plug, Michael Clark will appear on an episode of Dead Headspace with Patrick R. McDonough and I. It’s set to go up on May 27th, and he offers a lot of insight into the genesis of the trilogy and how he wrote Tim Russell. Going into book three with that knowledge really enhanced my appreciation of the ending.

I was given a paperback by the author for review consideration.

Speaking of secrets, Cailyn Lloyd’s first book in this series, Shepherd’s Warning, was such a pleasant surprise. I didn’t know anything about this author, but she was kind enough to entrust her book to me. Book one was a haunted house story at its core, but with elements of magic and elders, people who had been around hundreds if not thousands of years. No tentacles.

Even though this book was part of a planned trilogy, the ghost story was relatively self-contained. What impressed me most was that Lloyd didn’t rely on the trilogy spanning ideas to carry this novel. She wrote something that stood on its own.

The point of that tangent being that when book two showed up in the mail, I was thrilled to see where the story would go next. Would we revisit characters from book one or would this be another self-contained story with loose connections to book one.

Quinlan’s Secret tells the story of a couple, Josh and Kiera, buying and renovating a tavern in Wisconsin, not far from the events in the first book. The tavern is reportedly haunted, and immediately the owners begin to experience activity, mostly annoying things at first. This all leads to a massive discovery on their property that propel the events of the rest of the book.

Like the first book, this one is able to stand heavily on its own. As I’ve said before I don’t like to read books out of order or start in the middle of a series. That being said, you could read this and appreciate it without having read the first, but you probably shouldn’t. There are a lot of callbacks and world-building.

Just like we have a name for the protagonists that span the series in the elders, we are treated to a name for the force of evil that seems to be running rampant in Packers country. The book builds slowly and then cuts loose in a pretty bonkers third act that establishes new precedence for what this force of evil is capable of.

As much as I love the world building, there is an element of middle book syndrome present. The pressure to create a work that connects to book one and also sets up book three is not an enviable one. For the most part, Lloyd balances this task with grace, but there are times where it felt like some elements that should have been resolved at the end of this story, are left to be resolved in book three. Admittedly, this is a minor gripe since it didn’t really detract from my enjoyment of Quinlan’s Secret, and served to get me excited a year ahead of time for Hayward’s Revenge, the upcoming third and final book in the series.

Cailyn Lloyd is something of a well-kept secret in the horror community, and I’m hoping to see that change. I’m anxiously looking forward to how this series wraps up in book three, and I can’t wait to see what she has planned next. Highly recommend this entry in the series to fans of the first, fans of haunted house/tavern stories. There are also some light magical and historical fiction elements present if that’s your thing.


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

I’m going to preface this by saying that I love when mythology twines together with my horror. Whether it be aspects of Greek, Norse, Celtic, Japanese, or in this case Egyptian, I love diving into the complex explanations and stories created by ancient cultures. When these stories break into the modern, or semi-modern day, driving into the lives of real people, I’m there for the ride. That said, this book had an A from the get-go, but it had to work to keep that A.

Tomb of Gods is precisely the type of novel I can never imagine myself writing. I mean, I would absolutely love to sign my name to something like this, but there’s an unparalleled depth of imagination on display here. It feels like everything, including the kitchen sink, is thrown at us, but it never feels like too much. The foundation is based heavily in Egyptian mythology, but Moreland is still able to put his own unique stamp on the world building that takes place here.

The story follows Imogen Riley, an Egyptologist whose Grandfather’s team disappears during an expedition. He reappears a year later covered head to toe in markings and symbols, and no longer in his right mind. Imogen leaps at an opportunity to retrace the steps of the expedition in question and try to unravel the mystery of what happened. What follows is a journey into the heart of Egyptian gods and lore, the underworld and afterlife associated with the mythology, and all the creatures that come along with it, some natural, some decidedly not. There is a kind of labyrinthian element to the way the dark realm leads our cast of characters through puzzles and challenges, ramping things up toward the conclusion.

The pacing here is top notch, using short chapters and consistent action to keep the reader perpetually engaged. I saw this book described somewhere as an R-rated version of Indiana Jones, and this comparison definitely works. There’s almost a moment where we go full Crystal Skull, but thankfully Moreland spares us and we end up with a satisfying conclusion that explores the origins of the main set of Egyptian gods.

Tomb of Gods freaked me out at some times, and entertained me at all others. People who enjoy horror interlaced with action and adventure will enjoy this. Anyone like me who likes mythology-based horror will love this.


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

Dividing your apocalyptic doorstop into “books” is nothing new. One only has to open up The Stand or Swan Song to be greeted by a full page advertising your entrance to Book I. Typically, the number of “books” the end of the world is divided into all get collected into one place. Daniel Barnett is going about this a bit differently. It’s tempting to draw comparisons between Barnett’s Nightmareland series and John F.D. Taff’s The Fearing, but the difference is Taff wrote his series in full before releasing it serially, and despite the fact that Barnett has a fair portion completed, he’s going to be working on it for some time to come. As a reader just finishing up Volume One, this excites me to no end.
At around 140 pages, Nightfall mainly serves as the introduction to the series. We get a look at the apocalyptic event that gets things moving, but are left with plenty of wonder. I wouldn’t consider it much of a spoiler to tell you that the sun ceases to shine. I think the title pretty much takes care of that. Barnett makes no secret in his author’s note that if you want an explanation for everything going on, you’ll get it, but it’s going to be a while. I’ll also tell you that there’s a lot more going on here than just widespread darkness.
Nightfall makes great use of its runtime to give us a taste of the violence and mayhem we might expect to see going forward. Barnett writes in a way that reminded me of Cormac McCarthy. At some times the prose is vivid and poetic, at others considerably more straightforward. The tone varies in service of the story and it’s undoubtedly something I will be paying attention to going forward. I would go so far as to say the writing lends the story the feel of a western.
At times the pacing feels a bit odd, although this could be written off to my own personal experience. The reader has to remember that although the book in their hand is slim, it’s only a small portion of a story that would run many inches thicker.
While we meet various characters who we will undoubtedly follow to the story’s end, or at least theirs, our focus is on Jim Hawthorne. In Jim, we have a protagonist that brings the word stoic to mind. He’s a hard, quiet man with no qualms about violence, and the reader is immediately aware that there’s a lot of backstory to dig into going forward.
By the time the last page has been turned there is enough story revealed to whet the reader’s appetite. Rather than leaving us on a traditional cliffhanger, Barnett gives us something to think about while we wait for Volume Two. There are teases about where the story could be going, but Nightfall gracefully avoids the pitfall of feeling like it left off mid-chapter. It truly feels like a complete volume as opposed to a reasonable place to end part one because of word or page count.
For the first five or so volumes, Barnett is planning to release them every couple months. At least we won’t have to wait long for Volume Two.


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

If only it were possible to travel back in time. I’d really like to see the look on my one-year-ago face when I tell him “Dude, splatter westerns are a thing, and pretty soon you’re going to need them in your life.”

The Magpie Coffin is the first in Death’s Head Press’ Splatter Western series. You might ask, much like I did, what exactly is a splatter western? Based on this book, it follows a lot of tropes you might expect in a western – lone gunslinger sets out on a quest for revenge against people who committed some sort of wrong against him – but the violence is extreme, and this story also contains supernatural elements. The story actually fits a lot more neatly into the western genre than it does the horror genre. That’s not to say there aren’t horror elements, there are so many, but Wile E. Young fully immerses himself in this world. The word choice, the writing style all come together perfectly to transport the reader into the world of Salem Covington.

Covington, our lone gunslinger, at least for a little while, sets out to track down the men who murdered his teacher. As the story unfolds, we find out what kind of things this teacher instilled in Salem and how some of those teachings were perverted to turn Salem into the ruthless killer who resides in the pages of this book. Despite how vicious and, at times, sadistic Covington is, Young gives us moments that showcase a moral compass, an internal set of ethics. These moments make for a truly three dimensional character.

The men Salem tracks down are despicable human beings and Covington’s interactions with them are not for the faint of heart, hence the “Splatter” portion of the series title. There are definitely parts where I felt a little bad about what I was reading, but also having fun. That might actually be more a reflection on me than the book.

While about halfway through this book, I was thrilled to see Young announce that he was working on another story set in the same world, For a Few Souls More. I can’t wait to spend more time following this character and see how many more creative ways he can come up with to dispatch enemies, it’s the mythology present in this world that has me most excited. I won’t spoil, but I’m intrigued to learn even more about the rules and history surrounding Salem’s weapon of choice.

The Magpie Coffin kicks this new series from Death’s Head Press off with the grandest of receptions. If you’ve been enticed with horror westerns from the likes of Jonathan Janz, Josh Malerman, and John Boden, this is another stellar entry in the subgenre. If you like stories that show all the blood and guts, but still take the time to develop the character who’s causing all the ruckus, look no further.


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

Give me that old time religion and it’s good enough for me.

When you turn the last page of Devil’s Creek, by Todd Keisling, you read that despite the completion date being in 2019, the starting date was in 2007. This story made quite a journey in order to get into our hands. Oh, you haven’t ordered a copy yet? Go to it, I’ll be right here. Got it? Good. One of the big obstacles on that journey was finding a publisher willing to invest in a 400 page book. Two acknowledgements need to be made at this point.

First, kudos to Todd Keisling for not compromising and chopping one hundred plus pages off this story. Frankly, it didn’t have the weight to lose. Everything you read in these pages is integral to the final product. Second, kudos to Silver Shamrock for being the type of publisher that says this is a story worth telling and it needs 400 pages to say what it has to say, we’re going to make that happen.

Right from the beginning we’re in high gear. Keisling wastes no time establishing Jacob Masters as an utter creep who has no problem taking advantage of women and children. This is the second really excellent antagonist of 2020 I’ve read who uses religion as a foothold to grasp at power. Masters, however, has backup of the evil, supernatural cosmic variety coming from beneath the Church of the Holy Voices. I said religion before, but this church gathering is unquestionably a cult, and though the book starts off with a demonstration of how depraved these people are, the main focus is on the survivors thirty years later.

Devil’s Creek is Kentucky fried small-town horror done right, although I’m a yankee, what do I know? The way Keisling puts the events together is almost background noise at first while we get to know the people of the town. This execution is inevitably going to draw some Stephen King comparisons, but in a good way. If you can remind people how they felt reading Salem’s Lot for the first time, you are unquestionably doing something right. Getting to know the survivors, the Stauford six, as well as we do is a big reason this novel succeeds, and to drive home an earlier point, if Keisling was forced to cut this world-building and character development, the novel may not have been so successful. Here I’m thinking mainly of Jack and Riley, arguably the two main characters. We spend a lot of time getting to know them outside just the main story, and it truly helps us invest in them. There’s also an argument to be made for Keisling creating one of the most kick-ass female characters we’re likely to read this year in Imogene Tremly.

This is only my second Keisling book after Scanlines, but I’m noticing a bit of a no one is safe, and do be prepared to expect the unexpected theme building. Bad things happen here, and the descriptions are always extremely vivid, calling on all the senses. You can smell the dirt and decay under the church right along with the characters, you can hear the rending and other horrible things being done in some of the more graphic scenes, you can see the
blue eyes glowing in a dark forest, you can taste the dirt being shoved into your mouth. Far be it from me to attempt to predict the future, but this is a novel that just might have what it takes to stand the test of time. Fans of cult, small town, misguided religion, and character- driven horror are all going to find a lot to like here, and I will do my best to feign surprise when Devil’s Creek starts showing up on a lot of best of 2020 lists.


I received a digital copy from the publisher for review consideration

Last year, I was lucky enough to get access to an early copy of Little Paranoias, Sonora Taylor’s collection that came out in October. It’s no exaggeration to say that everything about it worked for me. From the poems to the flash fiction to the longer form stories, even the curation of the order was well done. How does this relate, you say? I was dying to find out what this author could do with a novel-length story.

Fast forward seven months, and I hold in my hand, Seeing Things, A Novel by Sonora Taylor. At 174 pages this is a fast read that grabs the reader by the shirt collar and yanks them toward the finish line. You want to put it down between chapters because the kids are hungry or you’ve got a zoom meeting for work, but you can’t. You’re essentially not allowed, not when the end of each brief chapter leaves you demanding to know what’s going to happen next.

We’re dropped into Abby’s coming-of-age journey from page one before anything horror-related is even hinted at. From there the reader discovers that she’s developing a bit of a new talent. She sees dead people. At first you might be thinking, okay, I’ve seen this movie, but Taylor adds a little spin here. The dead want nothing to do with Abby. They actively avoid her, running away and being outwardly rude about it if the opportunity arises. One of her first encounters results in a ghost literally giving her the finger as he walks away.

Now I’ve probably given you the impression this is a comedy, but that’s not it either. There are a few humorous moments, mostly courtesy of Abby. She can be a bit of a smart ass, but Taylor also writes her with humility, which keeps her from coming across arrogant. Instead she’s instilled with a sense of charm. If forced to pigeonhole this into a genre, I suppose I’d have to say it’s a supernatural mystery, but more importantly, it’s a Sonora Taylor story. The characters are all complex and imperfect, male and female alike, but the female protagonist is strong and well-rounded. The prose carries the reader along, never for a moment feeling dull or clunky. This book is short because there are no wasted words. The terrifying imagery is not present on every page, but this adds to the overall effectiveness when it does present itself.

I won’t talk in detail about my favorite element of this story. Actually, I can’t without spoilers, but I appreciate a book that makes me question how exactly I’d react given a certain situation. The book closed after 174 pages, but my brain continued rolling. This is the mark of a strong storyteller. Seeing Things is up for pre-order now. If you loved Little Paranoias, don’t miss this one. If you’ve never read Taylor before, this makes for a great jumping on point.

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

I’ve made it no secret that the indie horror community has changed the way I read. That said, I still tend to avoid vampire books most of the time. The ones I’ve read in the past tend to go one of two ways. Vampires are either romanticized, making them feel dated even in more recently written books, or vampires are brutal, mindless killing machines, more like zombies, but usually controlled by a master who is romanticized.

After reading Hairspray and Switchblades by V Castro, I didn’t know exactly what to expect from a vampire novel, but I knew it wouldn’t be the same. The vampire mythos here has more in common with Marvel’s Blade series than most vampire literature. We ditch some of the more well-known tropes in order to establish a unique mythos. The titular character is layered, but at heart she’s a kick-ass female heroine. While the story’s focus is on Maria, the characters that surround her are lovingly crafted to be just as deep and interesting. I would happily read more stories that centered around just Vlad and Jorge.

A big part of Maria’s appeal is that despite the youth and the power bestowed on her when she became a vampire, she is a flawed character who deals with moral and ethical conundrums. It wouldn’t be a V Castro book without a healthy dose of sex, and Maria the Wanted has got it in spades. While one scene in particular made me glad I wasn’t reading the book in a public place, it doesn’t feel gratuitous. Rather it adds a strength and honesty to Maria’s character.

I enjoyed Castro’s inclusion of a soundtrack. As you read the book, you gain insight into characters by what they’re listening to or even band t-shirts they choose. It ends up being a pretty sizable variety of music and if a reader were so inclined, they might find that having a playlist while reading enhances the experience. 

There is a theme presented, revisited several times throughout the book, related to working for what you have and not taking handouts. It’s not hammered over the reader’s head, but it does catch your eye if you’re paying attention. It gives the story an almost autobiographical element, as the way it’s handled makes it seem as though this is a quality that the author values.

As of this writing there is no release date or plan for book two in the Keepers series, but Violet Castro has set up a story, or series of stories, with globe-hopping, time-spanning potential, and I’ll eagerly pick up whatever comes next in the world of Maria.