Admittedly I haven't delved deep into the realm of aquatic horror despite the fact that I find it fascinating. I hoped to begin to remedy that with Lords of the Deep by two authors I've read and enjoyed solo works by - Tim Meyer and Patrick Lacey. I wasn't sure what to expect from this one, thinking it might just be 200 pages of sea creature carnage. Make no mistake, I would've been okay with that, but the reader is treated to a lot more. The authors create a living, breathing seaside town to house the story. Lea Bay with it's troubled past and complex backstory is just as much a character as Daphne, Jake, or any of the other human cohorts.

Meyer and Lacey do deliver, and pretty early on, with the giant sea creatures, though the focus is more on pirates, ghosts, and hidden treasures. Combine that with the town, and you've got a little bit of the type of urban legend flavor that one hopes to find in a small coastal town. A lot of the book is considerably more subtle than I expected, but Lacey and Meyer do allow for things to come absolutely unhinged at a certain point in the story. If that's why you bought a ticket, you won't leave the theater disappointed.

I love some big sea serpents and krakens, I love some pirate lore, I love well-developed small town horror, and Lords of the Deep brings together two phenomenal indie horror authors to deliver the goods.

This is my second exposure to Catherine Cavendish, and although The Garden of Bewitchment wasn’t for me, it gave me a pretty clear look at what the author does well - atmosphere and secluded seaside locales. Both of these elements are fully on display in The Malan Witch and I’m pleased to say I really enjoyed the story.

I can usually count on reading at least one Silver Shamrock book a month, but it feels like I’ve read three in fairly rapid succession - Curse of the Pigman, Slaves to Gravity, and now The Malan Witch. All four or five star reads and such a wide variety of horror subgenres and tropes on display is just one reason why Silver Shamrock is one of the best indie presses churning out quality horror right now.

Back to the story at hand - our story follows Robyn who opts to spend the summer in her sister’s cottage as a means to cope with the loss of her husband. She learns a bit about local folklore and the history of the cottage/the land the cottage was built on from a local woman who she befriends. At first the occurrences in and around the house are subtle and just a bit unsettling, but whenever the titular witch makes an appearance, the description sent chills running up my spine. Cavendish does an excellent job spreading events throughout the runtime of the novella and, as mentioned before, establishing the chilling atmosphere.

The final chapter wrapped up the story brilliantly. Any loose ends, allusions to future story, and even the motives and background of a particular character who figures prominently into the climax feel very blatant on the author’s part to add an air of mystery to the story. In my opinion, the creep factor wouldn’t have lingered quite so well if every little piece concluded with a neat bow on it.

I enjoyed this novella quite a bit and would recommend it to several groups of readers. If you enjoy the consistently good and varied output from Silver Shamrock, this won’t disappoint. Readers looking for a good witch story, and this is a trope I’d personally like to read more of, will enjoy the connections between modern-day happenings and the history of the house/land/town. Finally, despite the fact that it’s obviously a story about witches, this book hits a lot of my favorite beats found in haunted house stories - applying the new (to me, anyway - witches) to the familiar (ghosts). If you’re still not quite sold, Kealan Patrick Burke hits yet another homerun on this cover and it’s going to look incredible on your shelf.


I received a copy from the publisher for review consideration.

I might be the only person in the universe who didn’t love The Only Good Indians, and that’s not to say it wasn’t a good book. It was. It just didn’t click for me. This one did, however. From the first page, Jones nails the group of teenagers aesthetic, creating an array of characters that is easy to care about and to worry about when things start to go downhill.

Sawyer, the first person narrator, tells us how the group finds a mannequin, affectionately dubbed Manny, and makes him part of the crew for a bit before inevitably growing bored of him. The group brings out Manny for one more prank, and as they tend to do in books that are horror or the like, things begin to go badly.

I’m not sure where I expected this story to go when I picked it up, but definitely not where it ended up. The journey that Jones takes us on through the chaos happening in a small town, the thought process of the narrator, and makes us wonder what’s really going on all the way up to the ending is mastery. There are some authors, and Jones fits neatly into this group, that are utterly brilliant for their ability to manipulate their audience and play with them like marionettes. Not to mention, have the audience thankful to have paid for that experience.

This book is five easy stars. A two-day read that unpacks like a 90 minute movie. Action-packed and madly paced, but thoughtful as well. Coming up with groups I’d highly recommend to is a little rough. Stephen Graham Jones fans, of course, but beyond that telling you what kind of genres/tropes it hits does get a bit spoiler heavy. If a murder-y, monster-y, psychological mash-up that reads cinematically sounds up your alley, I’d definitely pick this one up.

I received a copy from Netgally for review consideration.

There are certain authors I get downright greedy with, and Laurel falls squarely within the genre. From the moment I closed Whispers in the Dark and held it close to bask in its glory, I’ve been anxiously awaiting the next Hightower story. 

Going in, I’d read the barebones synopsis, and it was just enough to tell me this book was going to destroy me. I thought I might get a little time to prepare, even ten pages, but no such luck. Right from the get go, we find out that Chris lost her adult son in a car accident, and is still emotionally reeling from it. She frequently visits the roadside cross where the accident occurred rather than Trey’s grave, and after a drop of blood falls into the dirt, she has an encounter with his ghost.

Laurel pours so much of herself into this book, not to say Laurel is Chris, but it clearly comes from an incredibly personal place. That to say, this couldn’t have been an easy book to write but the emotion of a mother, a parent, bleeding the bond with their child onto the page, is immediately affecting to the reader. For whatever reason, one line that grabbed my attention early on comes from Chris’ first encounter with Trey’s ghost - “...he raised a hand, and waved, with that goofy little finger wiggle he’d perfected when he’d stopped wanting her to kiss him in front of his school, but still wanted to communicate to her that he loved her.” Details like this drive Hightower’s magnificent story into the reader’s heart like a corkscrew.

Cross Roads is a story of grief, sacrifice, and love. It’s a supernatural horror story where, to me anyway, the horror doesn’t come from the supernatural. This book is out through Off Limits Press on August 10th, and I have no issues announcing it as a top book of 2020. I can’t definitively say this book is for everyone, but I can’t imagine a reader out there who wouldn’t be swayed by Laurel Hightower’s gifted storytelling and vibrant prose, both beautiful and devastating. Pre-order Cross Roads today. You won’t regret it.





I received a paperback copy from the publisher for review consideration

This book made a real quick trip from not being on my radar at all to being a series where I highly anticipate the next, which is thankfully sitting on my shelf right now. What Barlow pulls off in this book is sincerely masterful, mixing YA with fantasy with horror. Quick aside here to say, I have a newfound belief that YA revolves around the age of the main character, but there are a lot of elements present in this story that might draw comparisons to an R-rated Hunger Games, or other series, type lead character. 

Pivot is the first book in Barlow’s Jack Harper trilogy. The first thing you might want to know, and the book’s back cover obliges us here, is that Jack is a girl. We first meet her at age seven, being raised in a mysterious mansion by Cyrus, a cult leader with some major league delusions of grandeur. But also some actual grandeur. Cyrus is in possession of a box that grants him both power and knowledge, part of said knowledge being that he knows who will be faithful to him and who will pivot and turn on him.

When the reader intrudes upon the story, seven year old Jack is being trained in the art of death, learning how to kill over and over again. Despite the surroundings, Jack develops a sense of humanity and even morality that drives the story forward.

One of the elements that makes this story work so well is the way it’s isolated to Jack’s point of view. What we see and what we understand about this world is all seen from inside of the mansion. Do we trust what Cyrus tells Jack or do we form our own ideas of what this wider world truly looks like?

Another thing I truly enjoyed, and am very interested to see how it works going forward, is the slow introduction of the fantastic into the story. It’s introduced early on, but only in small increments, as we go on, Barlow crescendos it, developing a lore and mythology that the readers expects to be steeped in further installments.

Pivot is about 220 pages and there’s not a boring moment. Barlow does an incredible job of crafting a self-contained first installment that stands on its own, but raises enough questions and does the work of world building to peak the reader’s interest, making us want to see what Jack’s going to get up to next. I would highly recommend for fans of coming-of-age, cult horror, and even horror that is grounded but intertwines magic and mythology into its realistic setting. Next up: Perish.


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

I read Manifest Recall as part of my campaign to squish as many novellas as possible into the month of November last year. Important? Not really, but the potential downside of reading so many different stories in such a short period of time is having elements blend together. The point is despite being one of the first books I read that month, it stuck with me.

The pacing, the fun, the dark humor, and Baxter's brilliant ability to write action scenes are all on display again in Recall Night. Eli Carver is in exile after the events of the first story, but has the opportunity to return to America scott-free to start over. Before he can even settle in, he's falling ass-backwards into trouble again.

Baxter kicks things off with quick flashbacks interspersed with trips to the present to show how Carver got into his current predicament. Once the two stories catch up, it's all action and another dead sprint to the finish line.

What I love about this series is the way the author flips tropes in a unique way. Eli Carver could very easily fit into the role of a Jack Reacher or Lucas Davenport type - a real man's man who's practically invincible. Instead Baxter uses this platform to speak up about issues like subtle (and also not-so-subtle) racism and toxic masculinity. More than once, we get to see Carver ridicule men that fit (despite their bulked up arms) into this category.

Of course we can't talk about this series without touching on Eli's ghosts. I generally don't like the term 'supernatural thriller' because it's usually horror trying to get itself noticed, but that's what this book is. We don't see Eli's ghosts quite as much this time around, but their use as comic relief and allowing the reader to draw conclusions about whether we're seeing a haunting or symptoms of a psychological break continues. Clues are offered to support either decision, though I know which direction I lean in.

This is an easy recommend to fans of the first book, bringing back the storytelling elements I loved, but adding a new and unexpected supernatural element that I hope we haven't seen the last of. Assuming, of course, we haven't seen the last of Eli Carver. I believe this could be read as a stand-alone, but there might be elements, such as Eli's ghosts, that aren't overpaid owing to this being the second in a series.

I've said it before, but no one writes a fight scene quite like Alan Baxter and Recall Night has no shortage of the good stuff.

I received a copy from the publisher for review consideration.

How on earth did I let this one sit on my TBR pile from February all the way to July? Unforgivable. Adam Cesare’s latest offering marks his first foray into young adult horror fiction and has sparked a lot of discussions about what that label means, so let’s put a few things right at the top to avoid seeing the words “young adult” and subsequently dropping Cesare’s (arguably) best book like a hot potato.
Many people, this list formerly including myself, assume that the gore they signed up for when they chose a horror book will be PG-13’d in a young adult book. Not so. Cesare does some truly horrifying things to some of the characters in this book that wouldn’t be out of place in any of his other works that are not marketed toward younger readers. Misconception number two, if you like gritty language in your horror, this book may be a little too toned down for you. Again, absolutely not true. Adam Cesare has no fucks to give because he threw them all into Clown in a Cornfield just for you.
What makes this a young adult novel is the focus on a teenage cast, primarily on Quinn Maybrook, a Philadelphia transplant now living in Kettle Springs to help her and her father move on after the death of her mother. A few things to note here. Society has the tendency to label junkies as losers, many times books and movies follow suit. Adam gives us a very personal, but not excessive narrative showing the steps that turned Quinn’s mother from a person who had an accident and would really rather not have any pain pills to someone who becomes dependent to an overdose victim. It is positively heartbreaking in its simplicity and honesty, and though it only takes up a few of the 352 pages this book bolsters, it really stuck with me.
Early on Cesare makes it clear that the mother’s death derailed the father’s life even more than Quinn’s and that she is shouldering bigger responsibilities than should fall on a teenager. This is set up beautifully, but if I was left with one complaint I would’ve liked to have seen a little more payoff for the masterful building Cesare does early on with these elements. Still, it serves to create a main character we invest in and root for from page one.
I’d leave most of the elements of how Frendo the clown figures into the story for the reader to discover. Suffice it to say, it all lends a pretty unique element to the way this story goes about fitting into the slasher genre. There are some things you may guess at early on, but I’d wager there’ll be others that throw you for a loop. Here’s the lovely part though. Even if you’re that person that can’t be surprised, sees every twist coming (I am decidedly not), I can all but guarantee you a fun, fast-paced time with this book.
Having Harper Collins promoting your book doesn’t hurt, but I don’t intend to act surprised if this title does big things for Mr. Cesare. Perhaps some well-deserved notoriety and a movie deal? I can highly recommend this book to fans of slasher horror and well-developed kick-ass female leads. Again, please don’t let that YA label keep you away from this stellar read.

I was given a digital copy through Edelweiss for review consideration.

Anytime a Mark Steensland collaboration drops, I consider it a momentous occasion. When partnered with Silver Shamrock, go right on ahead and double that anticipation. After Steensland’s initial book with the press, In the Scrape, co-written with James Newman, this one had my attention from the word go. Glen Krisch is a new-to-me author, so I was anxious to see what the two could do together.

Coffin Shadows is a picturesque example of exactly what the novella offers in regards to the horror genre – a story with minimal set-up, dropping you directly into the action, and is able to keep the pace up for the majority of the run time. This story revolves around Janet. When we meet her there are certain peculiarities to her characterization, and we see the actions long before the explanations are unfurled. The most memorable part upfront is a clearly dead, pre-teen boy in a red sweatshirt that seems to show up everywhere she is, including, but not limited to, the coat closet at the school Janet works at.

That event causes a panic attack of epic proportions which results in Janet being given an unasked for and unanticipated vacation from work to get it together. She uses this time to return to her hometown, and from here we dig into her complicated past.

It feels like I just laid a great deal of exposition at your door, but that’s a pretty basic set-up, happening fairly quick in the book. It’s really the discoveries Janet makes in regards to her personal past and the people and places she grew up around that propel the narrative forward. There are some interesting elements that I won’t go into here, most I didn’t expect going in, or even after the first thirty pages or so. In this regard, the authors holding onto their secrets until the proper time is done fairly well.

I mentioned the pacing of a novella previously, and as much as I love the breakneck dynamics the novella had to offer, this one could’ve used just a bit more padding to increase characterisation. The reader doesn’t dislike Janet, but nor do they like her. They don’t really get to know her before she’s plunged into the action. We also could use a little more time spent with her partner, Brian, to figure out whether or not he has Janet’s best interests at heart and if we should be rooting for him.

On the flip side, regarding the mystery surrounding Janet, the reader not knowing every aspect of her personality allows the authors to experiment with dangling plot elements in front of the reader. We are invited to guess and wonder what’s real.

Overall, Coffin Shadows creates the literary equivalent of the 90 minute horror/psychological thriller movie, grabbing hold of the reader on page one and dragging you kicking and screaming behind the bumper fire almost 120 pages. With the exception of one plot element that I would’ve liked to see wrapped up, the story is very self-contained and allows for that one-sitting type of escapism I’ve really thrives in since the pandemic hit. I would recommend this fans of psychological horror.

I received a copy from the publisher for review conversation.

Hunter Shea knows his cryptids, his urban legends. I’m typing this out about an hour away from where this book takes place, but the melon heads were completely new to me. At first, I thought maybe they were a creation of the author’s imagination, but the lore rang so true, I had to put down the book and conduct some research. Sure enough, the creatures, Dracula Drive, it’s all got its base in reality.

Shea starts off giving us the titular Misfits, a group of social outcasts who rely on each other. It’s an added bonus that the story takes place in 1993 so we’re immersed in flannel and grunge rock - possibly some of the best stuff the 1990’s had to offer. I have a personal litmus test for books that contain a cast of characters, though it’s admittedly not a great one for people who take notes or, you know, have a good memory. If I can close the book and come back in a couple days to write a review, still remembering all the main characters by name, the author did a great job of sticking them in my brain.

Mick, Heidi, Marnie, Vent, and Chuck all come to life on the page, fitting under the banner of social outcasts, yet retaining their own personalities. They each have hopes and dreams and backstories that endear them to the reader. To Shea’s credit, this is a massive part of what makes the book work. To me, yelling and screaming into the void, but directed at the author, it makes the events that happen throughout the story carry significantly more weight. 

If you’ve read this author before, you know that bad stuff happens in his stories. If you haven’t - hello, welcome. Meet Hunter Shea, bad stuff happens in his stories.

Misfits is a really solid example of a book hitting me at just the right time. Life this past week has been stressful, going back to work outside the house for the first time since March. I needed the perfect book to destressify. This was a read I’d been looking forward to, one I knew would be immensely readable. It’d be gruesome and brutal, with the misery being inflicted on others. Exactly what I needed in my life, in other words. It could plausibly fit under the title of creature features, but those tend to be light on characterization, heavy on gore. Shea proves here you can, indeed, have your cake and eat it too.

This is a great Autumn read. Why? Because it’s a great read in general and it comes out in September. Truthfully, it’d be a great read any time of the year, but don’t let that stop you from sitting with this book and your favorite Octoberfest/Pumpkin beer. I would recommend to anyone who loves well-written, character-driven teenage groups, as well as fans of cryptids and local folklore.


I received a copy from the publisher for review consideration