I’ve opted not to rate this book. I pushed myself to finish, though I didn’t really care for it, and let it sit and gestate for a few days. Here we are and I’m not feeling all that much clearer regarding my opinions of The Body Will Follow. I’m mostly mixed because there’s an original idea and some powerful themes here. The story follows Carrie who has been possessed by a group of ghosts. The story essentially begins with her recovery, and the possibility of exploring the aftermath and the potential effects of dealing with something this big and life changing were definitely there.

The issues begin with the fact that none of the characters, from Carrie to the man that helps her through the transition back to some semblance of a normal life, are that likeable. Then there’s the fact that the ghosts thrive on overindulgence. In and of itself, that’s fine - there’s something that rings true about the dead wanting to indulge in earthly temptations, but it seems like it’s mainly sex. Like almost all sex. To the point that the ghosts seem to be contained within some kind of scrotum. This is one of the main reasons I opted not to leave a rating, it’s not because I didn’t expect it. After all, the cover does tell you this is a tale of perversion. It just felt forced, and wasn’t for me. This may work for some readers. I’m just not one of them.

I mentioned earlier the book deals with some heavy themes, a fair few actually, but what makes it awkward, is the way it attempts to do so using humor. There’s a lot of humor here that seems misplaced, or simply doesn’t land.

I found a fair few issues here that limited my enjoyment of the book, but I recognize that I am not every reader, and some people may enjoy this book. You may read this review and decide that ghosts who debase a young woman, resulting in graphically described STD’s is your cup of tea. If so, add sugar and enjoy.


I received a copy from the publisher for review consideration.

I have some guilt because it feels like I keep saying the same things about Unnerving’s Rewind or Die series. What can I say? This whole lineup has been a ton of fun in an otherwise dismal year. Trampled Crown is no exception.

Valerie is a teacher at Canary Lane High School, who ends up in charge of the school’s homecoming dance. Valerie is written in a way that makes her easy to relate to and commiserate with, Kellogg delving back and forth between Valerie’s attempts to pull the event together and history revolving around her sexuality, as well as an injury sustained when she was younger. Kellogg establishes that necessary atmosphere where something’s up and neither the main character nor the reader are privy to the full picture.

Our fairly large for a novella cast of characters includes students, other teachers, parents, and administrators. While not every character is as fleshed out as Valerie, the large cast gives the author a lot of room to have fun, dropping clues and red herrings left and right as to what’s going on.

It’s a fast, fun read with an LGBTQ main character, handled plausibly and respectfully. Something you love to see in your horror fiction. It’s a perfect fit for this series, and continues the mark of high quality literary callbacks to the 90 minute fright feature on VHS.

Editors Doug Murano and Michael Bailey have now released Miscreations into the wild. The book started off in the hands of Night Worms customers in January, giving a whole lot of happy horror fans early access to what will surely be one of the most anticipated anthologies of 2020.

Murano and Bailey have talked about how much time and care goes into curating an anthology, and Miscreations has that care on display in every facet. The illustrations and title fonts fit the creating a monster theme superbly. Adding to that the order of stories and inclusion of poetry by some of horror's top voices felt very blatant and pored over. Alma Katsu's introduction is also a can't-miss addition to the collection.

The bookends in Miscreations, A Heart Arrhythmia Creeping into a Dark Room by Michael Wehunt and Frankenstein's Daughter by Theodora Goss, are the perfect choices to begin and end with. Wehunt's piece is a self-aware, fourth wall breaker that I almost mistook for a second introduction. It evoked such anxiety in me by the time all was said and done. Goss' piece is a direct homage, and spiritual successor to Mary Shelley's 1818 novel.

Murano and Bailey seemingly made very conscious decisions to pull stories that would give us a worldly flavor, pulling various monsters and mythology from all over. Matryoshka by Joanna Parypinski, The Vodyanoy by Christina Sng, and Resurrection Points by Usman T. Malik are some prime examples of stories that entertained me by showing me a side of horror I hadn't been familiar with before.

Like any anthology, not every piece resonated with me, but I found the misses to be few and far between. Since the whole book reads like a story from cover-to-cover, it's easy to shrug off a story that didn't work for me in anticipation of what comes next. One of the biggest reasons that this anthology is an easy recommendation is the sheer number of stories that blew my mind with their underlying commentary, social or otherwise.

I won't go into detail about all my favorites because you should probably be spending your time reading Miscreations rather than a 7-page review of it, but I'll leave you with some of the stories that worked best for me: Operations Other Than War by Nadia Bulkin, You Are My Neighbor by Max Booth III, Spectral Evidence by Victor LaValle, and My Knowing Glance by Lucy A. Snyder.

Special attention to Josh Malerman for putting a really interesting and unique take on a werewolf story, and to Ramsey Campbell for Brains, which was hands down my favorite story in the collection.

I bought this as a very satisfied Night Worms subscriber. If you aren't getting their monthly packages, what are you even doing?

I won’t keep you in suspense - this is the best book in the Nightmareland series, so far. Keyword there is “so far”, because even three books in, the feeling that we’re just getting started is still very fresh. Barnett has done a meticulous job at planning out the amount of content that will fit into each portion of the series, as well as where and how each should end. The first two, Nightfall and Lullaby, leave the reader excited for the next installment without relying on a traditional, and potentially obnoxious, cliffhanger. The way this one ends? Psh, good luck waiting for book four.

Writing reviews for this series is weird, because some plot elements could be considered spoilers for earlier books, but then again, why are you reading a review for book three if you didn’t read the first? Let’s assume you have. Nightfall (1) sets up John to be our stalwart hero going forward in this new world, draped in darkness. Lullaby (2) promptly takes this piece off the table, where he primarily remains for this book. Our focus continues to be on Mariah, with the added bonus of getting to know Marcos better, who we met last time.

While Barnett has not shied away from adding human villains to supplement the atmospheric disturbance that makes for the catastrophic event putting events into motion, it’s in Sleepwalking that we get a few ‘humans are the worst monsters’ antagonist types. While characters like Ernest, Theo, and Jeffrey don’t strike as primary antagonist material - though I could be wrong, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time in this series - they make for a perfect picture of the depravity on display now that the world has changed.

Lullaby left me curious about Marcos, intrigued. One book later, and I’m irrevocably sold on every aspect of this character. Barnett gives the character a compelling backstory, incorporating the aspects of his disability, and ties it beautifully into current events happening in the story.

Nightmareland is really starting to feel like transcendent work, thanks in equal parts to two things on the author’s behalf. I’ve talked endlessly about Barnett’s prose, and if you really did read the first two books, you already know and I don’t have to sell you. Second, Barnett’s vision for where this series and these characters are going are truly unique, and subverts many of the typical post-apocalyptic tropes to tell a story that leaves you expecting the unexpected. Another installment of Nightmareland, another high recommend. Don’t sleep on this series.


I received a copy from the author for review consideration.

Ladies and gentlemen, here comes Paul Michael Anderson with easily one of the most unique and original concepts you'll read in a horror book this year. Mixing horror with science fiction, Standalone also acts as a love letter of sorts to the slasher genre. There’s some fun shout outs to our favorite villains and movies throughout the span of horror cinema as the plot rolls along and unravels. This is one of those stories that reveals bits and pieces as it goes, never really showing all its cards until the end. And even then, the reader has room to add some of their own interpretations.

 

The first chapter is such a draw-in, following our lead, Jenkins, as he ravages a very familiar summer camp. Anderson drops in odd little bits here and there to take the reader out of familiarity. We're pretty much asked to make a mental note of strange happenings to return to later. Come chapter two, we start to see what's really going on. If you read my reviews, you know I like to go light on synopsis. Honestly, I don't even read the back cover most of the time. This book has a Christopher Nolan-movie vibe, where if you go in knowing little to nothing, you're bound to enjoy it more.

 

One of the more impressive elements pulled off here is the seemingly effortless balance of deep existential questions with gore-laden fun with familial drama elements. At first glance, it seems like too much to squish into one book, and at times I did find myself with a bit of whiplash. Perhaps wishing I had more action during exposition or even hoping for a more detailed explanation of the concepts that make up the foundation of the story. As I mentioned before, a lot of that is intentionally left, or at least that was my interpretation.

 

Standalone also comes with a bonus short story at the end - “The One Thing I Wished For You”, and as much as the book worked for me, I liked the story even better. The book and story share a common theme of a father making sacrifices for their child, and though the book pulls it off, the story is even more effective at those heartstring tugs. Standalone put Paul Michael Anderson on my radar, but "The One Thing..." made his collection of short fiction - Bones Are Made to be Broken - a must-have book.

 

If you're looking for something that's not going to echo books you've already read, or if you're simply looking for a new twist on the tried and true slasher, that makes plenty of room for blood and guts, Standalone is very likely up your alley.

I received a copy from the publisher for review consideration.

The Plot Against Heaven is closer to dark fantasy than horror, but oddly enough throws in a fair bit of satire and a hint of workplace comedy before all is said and done. Although I often skip the synopsis, I gave it a look in this case before taking the book on.

We’re dropped into the midst of the action as our first-person narrator, Paul, attempts to gate-crash Heaven in a bid to confront God after the wrongful death of his wife. It’s a lot to take in, but the elements for a truly interesting fantasy are certainly present. 

Kirkbride draws the reader into this short novella with relatively brief chapters that move the action along, contributing few, if any, wasted words. The scenes that take place in Hell lean more heavily into parody than I expected, setting up the Devil as more of a punchline than a threat, or contributing to an overall sense of mythology. There’s nothing wrong with it, it’s pulled off well enough, and I found myself cracking a smile more than once. It’s simply not what I expected going in. Place that squarely on the shoulders of the reader, rather than the author.

Apologies for the mild spoilers, but there are two notable twists and turns toward the end. One feels overly forecasted, however the other, arguably the larger of the two, came through quite effectively. 

If you’re looking for a fast, fun read, The Plot Against Heaven might just do the trick. There aren’t really horror elements present, and it feels more appropriate to call it Action Satire than dark fantasy, but if that’s something that interests you, check it out on October 3rd.

I received a copy from the author for review consideration.

Lucy Snyder first grabbed my attention with her story “My Knowing Glance” in Miscreations. It made me take notice of this author and grab a copy of her story collection, Garden of Eldritch Delights, which I regret to say I haven’t gotten around to yet. When Halloween Season was announced, the cover instantly grabbed my attention (seriously, have you seen it?), and it became an October must-read.

I really enjoy when an author struts their variety from the get-go, and kicks their collection off with a poem that almost serves as an introduction, embodying the theme of the book. Sonora Taylor did it with one of my favorite collections last year, and Snyder does it here with “Beggars’ Night”.

Two of the strongest stories in the book run back-to-back pretty early on. “Cosmic Cola” is fun, but also heartfelt, and runs with some Lovecraftian mythos making it considerably more human in the process. “Visions of the Dream Witch” makes the extraordinary feel ordinary, which absolutely does not sound like a compliment. It is, though. Snyder crafted a world in this short that feels very much like ours, but nobody blinks an eye at the idea of magic and supernatural creatures. One of those stories that completely immerses you.

“The Porcupine Boy” is one of my favorite stories of the year. The main character is dubious, but loveable and it doesn’t take Snyder long to set that up. It’s fun, creepy, and the addition of the current cultural climate, which is not always necessarily successful, clicks here.

Riding with the theme of two phenomenal stories in a row, “In the Family” follows “Porcupine Boy” and I loved it. My favorite things about it would spoil it, so I’ll keep them to myself, suffice it to say, this story is carefully crafted and pays off.

“After Hours” is another (very) short poem that lets us know the final two stories are going to be a bit more adult than previous offerings. They are, and they’re both funny as hell, something that Snyder injects into this collection effortlessly, and for me, it landed every time. Both “The Toymaker’s Joy” and “The Tingling Madness” are great caps to an excellent collection, but it’s the latter that steals the show. A Cthulhu Cult story, something usually done with reverence, is laugh out loud funny, and impeccably entertaining, in no small part to sharp dialogue. It’s the perfect finale to this collection.

I knew going in Snyder was a hell of a storyteller, but this collection offers so much more. The voice behind these stories is personable and fun. While this is a collection geared toward the season at hand, you could really break this book out any time of the year and garner enjoyment.


I received a copy from the publisher for review consideration.

Nicholas Anthony’s Malocchio: Dark Magic of the Evil Eye combines dark fantasy with historical fiction. Taking place in Italy during World War II, the story interweaves witchcraft and wizardry in with the humanity of a war winding down.

One of the places Anthony excels at is crafting a world hidden within the real world. We’ve all heard the metric for horror/fantasy, if you removed all the supernatural elements, the story should still stand on its own. Much of the work early on is setting up the soldiers that make up the main cast of characters. The interactions between soldiers feels authentic, and once established, Anthony sets to work showing the magic behind the scenes.

The supernatural characters have familiar elements enough to catch the readers attention, but seem to draw from local folklore. A story set in Italy that the author successfully convinces us only could have happened in Italy. The stregas are creepy and ruthless, but imbued with enough character that we get drawn into whatever they’re doing or who they’re doing it to.

This portion could be considered mild spoilers, so read on at your own risk. The titular villain is alluded to through most of the book, but doesn’t make a physical appearance until late in the game. While this is far from a sin, and can be quite effective, his return is very exposition heavy and anticlimactic. I like the way the author keeps Malocchio in the background as a looming threat, but a slightly sooner appearance with a condensed explanation for absence would’ve worked for me. As always, it’s worth noting this is simply one reader’s opinion.

I love folklore interspersed into my horror, and I’m always down for a unique take on historical events. Anthony has crafted a little slice of the world in which to play, but also leaves the door open to more tales told utilizing this mythos. If those aspects appeal to you, this book just might be up your alley.

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

While they don’t do it with all their releases, I’m enjoying how Perpetual Motion Machine will sometimes package a novella with a somewhat related short story from the author. In the case of Bob Pastorella’s release, you can read a story entitled “Pork Chop” - a 16 page affair that led to the book you’ve just read, unless you go out of order, but you’re not a monster. Are you? The story introduces one of the most interesting characters in the book, a kind of Southern Americana version of a James Bond villain who’s grafted together with kevlar.

After reading and thoroughly enjoying They’re Watching, the book co-written with Pastorella’s This is Horror co-host, Michael David Wilson, I was eager to see what portions of that book germinated from Bob’s imagination, and therefore eager to dive into Mojo Rising. This one steers into more of a gritty crime noir that feels like it only could have been penned by a writer from Texas.

Don’t get me wrong with the crime noir comparison - we definitely steer into horror territory more than once or twice. During these instances, Pastorella embraces the grotesque with a mentality that says I’m looking, so guess what? So are you. Pastorella also perpetually embraces the bizarre. In a book that centers around drugs and references The Doors this often, wouldn’t you have to?

If I had one complaint, it’s one of personal preference. My favorite stories put character ahead of all else, and though our protagonist - Juney - is an interesting guy, most of the importance is placed on setpieces and surroundings. It works for what this novella struck me as trying to accomplish. I simply didn’t find myself as invested as I like to be in the people.

Mojo Rising is exactly the type of book one might expect to come out of Perpetual Motion Machine. It’s fast, fun, strange, and contains masturbation. Trigger warning? If that’s your fare, by all means, dive in. If you just want to see what This is Horror’s resident anecdote machine can do with a pen, or a laptop anyway, check out Mojo Rising.


Review/rating coming soon

As I’ve come to expect from these Rewind or Die books, this one kicks off with a bang. We get a unique creature that, although completely at home in horror lit, I don’t think I’ve read anything that features them. Sridhar excels at the sensory descriptions put on the page here. We can hear, see, and feel all the terrible things going around us.

The story focuses around the haunted Basilio Theater, more specifically a theater summer camp occurring there. Our main character, Vivian, is working as a counselor. We’re introduced to other counselors as well as campers, a relatively sizable cast for such a short book. Whenever I have the following issue, I’m always willing to admit it could be my problem, but I found the cast of characters difficult to keep track of and keep straight. I could’ve used a bit more character development to help me differentiate and become more invested when people begin to go missing.

This is a tough review to write because the main issue I had with the story was due to pacing. I want to be objective and hold the story up on it’ own merits, but the Rewind or Die logo gives me a certain expectation. As bonkers as the first part goes, the story never really gives us that over-the-top sensibility again, and we keep looking for it. We get a bit of action toward the end, but there’s a very large portion in the middle where we deal in drama (literally and figuratively) and a bit of slow-burn mystery. It makes for a slightly slower read than we’re used to.

What I liked about Offstage Offerings is the unique setting where the story takes place. While we’ve seen haunted theater, the haunting on display here isn’t traditional, though that notion is touched upon by the author. Same thing with summer camps, but combining the two is a nice touch. One thing I’ve really loved about this series is just how different the books all are from each other while still nailing the 90’s VHS aesthetic, and in that respect, Offstage Offerings is a nice addition.


I received a copy from the author for review consideration.