3.5 stars
Because I love the sea and everything adjacent, this was one of the Weird Tales collections I was most excited about. Well, it wasn't as exciting as I had hoped. The maritime lingo wore me out and the stories started bleeding into each other, but the good news is that a less interesting Weird Tales collection is still worth the read. Not so surprisingly, I enjoyed the action-packed sea creature stories the least, because I've always been partial to ghost ships.

Favorites:

No Ships Pass (1932) by Lady Eleanor Smith:
Echoes of Lost. I don't think I can say more without giving spoilers, but if you remember how the show ended, you know what I mean.

The Floating Forest (1909) by Herman Scheffauer:
Creepy, but also beautifully written and has gorgeous imagery.

Devereux’s Last Smoke (1907) by Izola Forrester:
A classic ghost story of revenge. Nothing revolutionary, but one of the best in this group.

I'm not entirely sure if I like rhymed poetry but there are some beautiful parts and Scotland is always appreciated.

Can't remember much of the stories but I do remember where I was reading it. Hot summer day on the garden swing with no breeze of wind and the creepy feeling down in my spine.

"You call yourself a free spirit, a "wild thing," and you're terrified somebody's gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself."

3.5 stars
Although I wouldn't necessarily consider this Capote's best work (In Cold Blood will always be my favorite), I connected with it differently now than I did the first time, specifically Holly.

She has no boundaries and is carefree, distant, shameless, sensitive, and flighty. Her promises are only temporary, and her mystery draws you in as it draws in the narrator. Where did she come from? Where will she end up? Will she ever find peace and the home she so wants to have? There's something simultaneously false and genuine about her.

There's a strong possibility that fans of the movie may not like her or the barely-there somewhat melancholic story, but I appreciated the meandering mood that would fit a slow Sunday afternoon. Wistful, but never superficial.

PS. David Attie's photographs that accompanied the story in the 1958 issue of Esquire are perfection.

You know, it had its moments. Richard Grenvile was a realistic, charismatic, almost an antihero type of man. With lots of faults he always kept me questioning his motives and whether he was capable of something other than cruelty and misbehaving. So it was definitely justified for him being the center of everything and part of the book title. But then, I was constantly reminded by these same lines by the protagonist where she reminded that he had many faults along (yes, I know that already, get on with it). Because of that it was a bit too long and it didn't had as much beautiful passages as in Rebecca.

Quite disappointed, even though I knew beforehand that these stories would offer just mere glimpses to the Crimson petal world. It was nice to meet old friends, even if very briefly, so for that reason alone this stays in my shelf. Still, I wished more substance instead of skeleton stories. The writing didn't quite match the Crimson Petal beauty, either.