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The Death of Jane Lawrence is a bit of a genre meld: part Victorian-style romance, part gothic horror, with a good splash of magical realism. It's an odd mix, no doubt. The first half of the book is traditionally gothic, even if it's based in a world of alternate history. Lindridge Hall is every gothic manor house. The grounds were ill-kept, overgrown with vines, dead shrubberies. Inside, it's much the same, with a Winchester House vibe with fake doors, odd hallways, and a locked cellar door. Of course, the house comes with its share of secrets and so does her new husband, Augustine.
The second half of the book is where things get really odd. I can't say too much without giving away the plot, but think how Mexican Gothic flipped things on its head. You go in expecting a dark past, apparitions, and other gothic accoutrements according to formula but what you get is so much more. Old friends of Augustine's appear at the Hall, bringing metaphysical elements and magic into play. Jane's (and Augestine's) sanity is frequently in question and as she spirals down and down, it gets weird. but in the best way.
I can say without a doubt that I loved sensible Jane Shoringfield. Living in a time period where she MUST get married, she makes a list of all the eligible bachelors and lists them off by how likely they are to let her continue with the life she has without disturbing it. She's determined by her careful selection that Dr. Augustine Lawrence is that person. She only has to convince him, which she does, with logic that includes their marriage as a business arrangement. Having spent a lot of time reading Harlequin romances, Jane is exactly the bluestocking kind of character I would choose. Fiercely independent, inquisitive, and ever-questioning, she's a force to be reckoned with.
I think those that go in expecting a cut-and-dry gothic ghost story are going to be disappointed with the transcendental twist, but I highly enjoyed it. I favor books that stray outside of the tried and true formula and this one certainly did.
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The second half of the book is where things get really odd. I can't say too much without giving away the plot, but think how Mexican Gothic flipped things on its head. You go in expecting a dark past, apparitions, and other gothic accoutrements according to formula but what you get is so much more. Old friends of Augustine's appear at the Hall, bringing metaphysical elements and magic into play. Jane's (and Augestine's) sanity is frequently in question and as she spirals down and down, it gets weird. but in the best way.
I can say without a doubt that I loved sensible Jane Shoringfield. Living in a time period where she MUST get married, she makes a list of all the eligible bachelors and lists them off by how likely they are to let her continue with the life she has without disturbing it. She's determined by her careful selection that Dr. Augustine Lawrence is that person. She only has to convince him, which she does, with logic that includes their marriage as a business arrangement. Having spent a lot of time reading Harlequin romances, Jane is exactly the bluestocking kind of character I would choose. Fiercely independent, inquisitive, and ever-questioning, she's a force to be reckoned with.
I think those that go in expecting a cut-and-dry gothic ghost story are going to be disappointed with the transcendental twist, but I highly enjoyed it. I favor books that stray outside of the tried and true formula and this one certainly did.
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Brutal is the only way to describe this novel by Michael Patrick Hicks. This is one of those that you don't need to see the trigger warnings on. Assume that if it's a trigger, it's in this book. Necrophilia, bestiality, gore, animal death, child death...the list truly goes on and on. I distinctly remember listening to this while out for a walk and the words that came out of my mouth were "Oh hell no". Truly, if you have any triggers, scroll on by. You have to be able to take a true unflinching look at yourself to see exactly what you can handle. Hicks doesn't waste any time taking you into the graphic depravity of the human mind. Savage and unyielding, this extreme horror is not a story for the faint at heart.
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I always dread reading books that have such a good following because I am usually in the minority of loving it. Mexican Gothic was one of those books that kept getting the hype everywhere I turned but thankfully, it did not fall to the popularity curse.
This is a very mystery-driven plot. The eerieness of both the setting and the unknowns of the characters added to the overall feel of the novel. So many gothic checkmarks are hit with this story yet we are still given a wonderfully feminist MC in Naomi. She handles all that is thrown at her with remarkable aplomb. The expected debutant is at odds with the untrusting, independent character that we are given. The house, as in many gothic fictions, is remarkably its own character as it should be, and the worrisome behavior of those in the house only added to the mystery.
On the same level of novels as Rebecca, Mexican Gothic is atmospheric and evasive. It's definitely a slow burn, but once the stone starts rolling, it will crush anyone who stands in its way.
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This is a very mystery-driven plot. The eerieness of both the setting and the unknowns of the characters added to the overall feel of the novel. So many gothic checkmarks are hit with this story yet we are still given a wonderfully feminist MC in Naomi. She handles all that is thrown at her with remarkable aplomb. The expected debutant is at odds with the untrusting, independent character that we are given. The house, as in many gothic fictions, is remarkably its own character as it should be, and the worrisome behavior of those in the house only added to the mystery.
On the same level of novels as Rebecca, Mexican Gothic is atmospheric and evasive. It's definitely a slow burn, but once the stone starts rolling, it will crush anyone who stands in its way.
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Mouth Full of Ashes is my first foray into Briana Morgan's writing and I couldn't start with a better novella than this nod to the 80s' The Lost Boys vampire film. This tale of two siblings trying to make a fresh start in a new town and finding only trouble at the local boardwalk was full of nostalgia. The brother and sister duo get wrapped up in the local vampire clan and mom is even being pursued by the vampire master.
While it is essentially a reimagining of The Lost Boys, Morgan has a fun carnival/boardwalk setting, believable characters with a heartbreaking past, fun banter and wit, and even a little romance with queer rep thrown in for good measure. The relationship between the siblings is truly the backbone of the story. There's lots of young adult angst and the need to "find yourself" without coming across as too cheesy. While the pacing seemed a bit rushed at the end, there's plenty that makes this fun vampire novella worth reading.
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While it is essentially a reimagining of The Lost Boys, Morgan has a fun carnival/boardwalk setting, believable characters with a heartbreaking past, fun banter and wit, and even a little romance with queer rep thrown in for good measure. The relationship between the siblings is truly the backbone of the story. There's lots of young adult angst and the need to "find yourself" without coming across as too cheesy. While the pacing seemed a bit rushed at the end, there's plenty that makes this fun vampire novella worth reading.
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Ashford wastes no time dunking the reader right into the fray and with one sentence commences initiating the tension that will ensue throughout the story.
Such a simple sentence and one that could be completely innocuous, but we know there's more at stake here. That sentence begins the contrast of the beauty of nature with the terrible monstrousness of the creatures and the ensuing battle for survival. There's no doubt of the ephemerality of everything human in this new world after the "ruin" as it's christened.
I like that the story starts without really telling us how we got here. What are the lizard people? Where did they come from? Other than telling us that poisonous gas came first encircling the cities and then these saurian creatures came next, we don't really know much about them. They are pitiless killers, but you can't condemn them for surviving. They aren't the ones to hate here any more than we'd hate crocodiles or say any big cat in the African Safari. They were made to consume and in order to survive and thrive, they have to eat. It's not their fault that one of the easier things on the menu is human.
We only really have three characters, which makes the novella easier to follow versus Sole Survivor. Gone is the big cast with names you don't care about—fodder for the feast if you will. No, here Ashford gets intimate. There's Cora, who has carved out a space in the Australian bush, away from the cities and towns and then there are interlopers, Darren and Sarah. Well, we can't forget about the lizards, but as the methodical hunters and killers that they are, strangely they aren't the biggest threat here.
Ashford has perfected his main character Cora. She could be me or you. She wasn't built to do this. She doesn't have years of military training or survivalist knowledge. She was, like the rest of the world, thrust into this miasma and it was either adapt or falter. This world has changed her. She's endured but she's not without fault. She's made mistakes that cost her the life of her son. In spite of that, Cora has managed to keep herself alive being resourceful with little bits of material appropriation and newfound awareness along the way. She's carving out an existence alone in the mountains and she likes it just fine that way. When Darren and Sarah show up, she offers them whatever she has just so they will move on and leave her little corner of the forest in relative peace.
Darren is the kind of villain you love to hate. Ruthless and smart but still stupid somehow. There's a wrongness about him that goes much further than the pure meanness that people can have within their hearts. It's clear from the start that he has a sickness both in body and soul. He's despicable, a stain on humanity, and I want to see him get everything that karma has coming for him. Sarah, on the other hand, is a bit of an enigma. Is she with Darren simply for survival—riding his coattails for protection? Does she truly care for him, in which case was he a better person before the shit hit the proverbial fan? It's hard to know exactly where she stands and Cora waffles on that one as well throughout.
This isn't your typical end-of-the-world survivor slog. Ashford chose a completely weird post-apocalyptic lizard creature stance, sure, but by narrowing the viewfinder to these three characters, he's created something inherently more intimate and ultimately more unsettling. He put the horror genre in the spin cycle. What begins as a creature feature evolves into the "human is the real evil" trope and morphs yet again in the last pages. Thrilling and poignant, When The Cicadas Stop Singing is a completely different beast than Ashford's other works. It's unexpected, completely out there, and heartrending.
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"The cicadas had fallen silent."
Such a simple sentence and one that could be completely innocuous, but we know there's more at stake here. That sentence begins the contrast of the beauty of nature with the terrible monstrousness of the creatures and the ensuing battle for survival. There's no doubt of the ephemerality of everything human in this new world after the "ruin" as it's christened.
I like that the story starts without really telling us how we got here. What are the lizard people? Where did they come from? Other than telling us that poisonous gas came first encircling the cities and then these saurian creatures came next, we don't really know much about them. They are pitiless killers, but you can't condemn them for surviving. They aren't the ones to hate here any more than we'd hate crocodiles or say any big cat in the African Safari. They were made to consume and in order to survive and thrive, they have to eat. It's not their fault that one of the easier things on the menu is human.
We only really have three characters, which makes the novella easier to follow versus Sole Survivor. Gone is the big cast with names you don't care about—fodder for the feast if you will. No, here Ashford gets intimate. There's Cora, who has carved out a space in the Australian bush, away from the cities and towns and then there are interlopers, Darren and Sarah. Well, we can't forget about the lizards, but as the methodical hunters and killers that they are, strangely they aren't the biggest threat here.
Ashford has perfected his main character Cora. She could be me or you. She wasn't built to do this. She doesn't have years of military training or survivalist knowledge. She was, like the rest of the world, thrust into this miasma and it was either adapt or falter. This world has changed her. She's endured but she's not without fault. She's made mistakes that cost her the life of her son. In spite of that, Cora has managed to keep herself alive being resourceful with little bits of material appropriation and newfound awareness along the way. She's carving out an existence alone in the mountains and she likes it just fine that way. When Darren and Sarah show up, she offers them whatever she has just so they will move on and leave her little corner of the forest in relative peace.
Darren is the kind of villain you love to hate. Ruthless and smart but still stupid somehow. There's a wrongness about him that goes much further than the pure meanness that people can have within their hearts. It's clear from the start that he has a sickness both in body and soul. He's despicable, a stain on humanity, and I want to see him get everything that karma has coming for him. Sarah, on the other hand, is a bit of an enigma. Is she with Darren simply for survival—riding his coattails for protection? Does she truly care for him, in which case was he a better person before the shit hit the proverbial fan? It's hard to know exactly where she stands and Cora waffles on that one as well throughout.
This isn't your typical end-of-the-world survivor slog. Ashford chose a completely weird post-apocalyptic lizard creature stance, sure, but by narrowing the viewfinder to these three characters, he's created something inherently more intimate and ultimately more unsettling. He put the horror genre in the spin cycle. What begins as a creature feature evolves into the "human is the real evil" trope and morphs yet again in the last pages. Thrilling and poignant, When The Cicadas Stop Singing is a completely different beast than Ashford's other works. It's unexpected, completely out there, and heartrending.
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Iraxi has reason to be angry. She's stuck on a ship in a flooded world, surrounded on all sides by those who despise her, and monsters of air and sea who are waiting to end her. She's pregnant with a child she doesn't want in a new world where no one has yet to carry to term. She's not even sure the child is human. Her hatred burns her from within, leaving no room for anything else. Her anger is like the water that filled her world, rising swiftly and submerging everything in its path.
I am insistence personified, and the spite I draw is my sustenance...
This is a novella that will speak to all your senses. Not only is Iraxi's rage all-consuming, but the descriptions of the ship and its people will also engulf you. Seventeen hundred forty-three days at sea. She is locked in this place surrounded by rotting wood, the sea lapping at it from all sides, mildewing in the salty air. The stink of bodies and fluids and blood all around. Unable to even escape to fresh air due to the razorfangs from the sky and tentacles from the depths. This narrative will envelop you in its depictions like a dark, oily dream from which you can't awake.
While the eldritch creatures encircling the ship would typically be the focus of a novella, Rocklyn beckons us to sit with Iraxi in her boiling resentment and fury. We experience her loathed pregnancy, the debilitating changes to her body, and eventually the horror of her labor and what comes after. If you are looking for a dark and disturbing visceral tale, Iraxi's account will whisper bleakly to you. Flowers For The Sea is ghastly and gloriously weird and well worth the read.
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I am insistence personified, and the spite I draw is my sustenance...
This is a novella that will speak to all your senses. Not only is Iraxi's rage all-consuming, but the descriptions of the ship and its people will also engulf you. Seventeen hundred forty-three days at sea. She is locked in this place surrounded by rotting wood, the sea lapping at it from all sides, mildewing in the salty air. The stink of bodies and fluids and blood all around. Unable to even escape to fresh air due to the razorfangs from the sky and tentacles from the depths. This narrative will envelop you in its depictions like a dark, oily dream from which you can't awake.
While the eldritch creatures encircling the ship would typically be the focus of a novella, Rocklyn beckons us to sit with Iraxi in her boiling resentment and fury. We experience her loathed pregnancy, the debilitating changes to her body, and eventually the horror of her labor and what comes after. If you are looking for a dark and disturbing visceral tale, Iraxi's account will whisper bleakly to you. Flowers For The Sea is ghastly and gloriously weird and well worth the read.
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What happens when you combine fast cars, Las Vegas gang shootouts, and Lovecraft? You get this weird but fun acerbic romp with Jason Parent! Eight Cylinders is the love child of cosmic horror and Fast and the Furious.
The story opens with Sebastian “Seb” McAlister in the middle of an abandoned department store parking lot shoot out with the local Chinese drug lord questioning the mini Magic 8 ball he'd taken from said drug lord's eye socket. Yes, you read that right. First, someone was using it as a fake eye. Second, Seb took it and pocketed it. Third, he's actually asking it for advice. When his partner in crime is killed and Seb is wounded, he takes off in his stolen SRT Hellcat with no destination except the advice of his mini Magic 8 ball. He passes out from blood loss and wakes up trapped in the mountains of the desert with strange companions and surrounded by a giant tentacle monster that won't let them leave.
Seb is an interesting character. He's a criminal with a conscience and an erstwhile crime noir internal dialogue. He cares about three things: his partner, his girlfriend, and his new boosted hot rod, so let's not give him too much credit, shall we? Admittedly selfish, reckless, and maybe a bit crazy, he's still the perfect anti-hero to band together this merry bunch of weirdos, uniting them under a common cause and possibly leading them to freedom.
Is this sci-fi? Action? Horror? Who knows and who really cares? This novella isn't going to strain your brain. It's meant to be fast and dirty like Saturday nights drifting at the track. It starts with a bang and ends with a movie-style ending—unfinished but satisfying. It's action-adventure storytelling at its best. Lots of guns and fast cars and regular guys turned badass. Don't expect things to make sense because they won't. Don't expect answers that you couldn't get from a Magic 8 ball. Things just are and they don't always fit within the range of what is possible. Eight Cylinders is just an entertaining read that puts the pedal to the metal and rides hell for leather for the hills.
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The story opens with Sebastian “Seb” McAlister in the middle of an abandoned department store parking lot shoot out with the local Chinese drug lord questioning the mini Magic 8 ball he'd taken from said drug lord's eye socket. Yes, you read that right. First, someone was using it as a fake eye. Second, Seb took it and pocketed it. Third, he's actually asking it for advice. When his partner in crime is killed and Seb is wounded, he takes off in his stolen SRT Hellcat with no destination except the advice of his mini Magic 8 ball. He passes out from blood loss and wakes up trapped in the mountains of the desert with strange companions and surrounded by a giant tentacle monster that won't let them leave.
Seb is an interesting character. He's a criminal with a conscience and an erstwhile crime noir internal dialogue. He cares about three things: his partner, his girlfriend, and his new boosted hot rod, so let's not give him too much credit, shall we? Admittedly selfish, reckless, and maybe a bit crazy, he's still the perfect anti-hero to band together this merry bunch of weirdos, uniting them under a common cause and possibly leading them to freedom.
Is this sci-fi? Action? Horror? Who knows and who really cares? This novella isn't going to strain your brain. It's meant to be fast and dirty like Saturday nights drifting at the track. It starts with a bang and ends with a movie-style ending—unfinished but satisfying. It's action-adventure storytelling at its best. Lots of guns and fast cars and regular guys turned badass. Don't expect things to make sense because they won't. Don't expect answers that you couldn't get from a Magic 8 ball. Things just are and they don't always fit within the range of what is possible. Eight Cylinders is just an entertaining read that puts the pedal to the metal and rides hell for leather for the hills.
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