**Review originally published in SCREAM Magazine**

I am fond of the short story format, but when it comes to short story collections, there aren’t many that hit a five star recommendation. They tend to be a mixed bag and invariably contain tales that miss the mark. But, every once in a while, a collection comes along that blows my mind. I knew I was in for a treat when I saw the pull quote for Spontaneous Human Combustion was Chuck Palahniuk comparing the author to Lovecraft, Bradbury, and Gaiman.

This collection presents fourteen stories that run the gambit of horror, science fiction, fable, and dark fantasy. It’s an engaging blend of genres that offers a refreshing variety of settings and situations. “Requital” has a man caught in an endless loop of hells, suffering for his various transgressions. “Saudade” is about a nomad who travels the post-apocalyptic world seeking a better future while also trying to contain the beasts he harbors inside himself. In “Undone”, we see a man who takes his trapped-on-an-island virtual reality game a little too seriously, the story playing out like an episode of Black Mirror. “From Within” takes us to a dystopian future, where a man tries to protect his son from the alien colonizers that have overtaken earth.

And so it goes.

While all the stories contain interesting concepts and fun twists, what really stands out is the storytelling style of author Richard Thomas. The writing features much showing and little telling, focusing mostly on images, mysterious events, and emotions. The writing also pulls back the cover on humanity, revealing monsters both literal and metaphorical as well as showcasing the enumerable consequences of their twisted dark desires. Thomas has this innate ability to take a fantastical story and draw it out on a granular level that we can sympathize with, mixing raw human emotions with extraordinary circumstances.

Despite the diversity of stories, there are a few running threads that tie the collection together. One such aspect is the emphasis on the supernatural. From cults to the cosmos, every tale is suffused with the uncanny and otherworldly. Some stories reach deep into the well of magic and occult, yet even the ones that don’t still shimmer with an air of the paranormal. Another uniting aspect is the running theme of what one will do in the face of misery and trials. There are plenty of brutal and despicable moments, but Thomas is much more interested in the how and why, exploring each character and meditating on humanity’s darkest corners.

Spontaneous Human Combustion is a gathering of ideas that are both provocative and transformative. You’ll be scared, disgusted, appalled, saddened, and utterly engrossed by the events that transpire. These stories will slither under your skin and burrow into your brain; they’ll lay eggs in your sinus cavity and stay with you long after you’ve closed the cover. As short story collections go, this one certainly stands out from the pack.

**Review originally published in SCREAM Magazine**

There’s a lot to love in Drew Starling’s debut novel Sentinel. A pervasive atmosphere of dread, amplified by the eerie methodical pacing and punctuations of brutal violence. A hulking, looming monster with glowing eyes and long, trailing fingers. A hint at a larger world, peering through the fabric of our reality, bolstered by a local cult. And an epic, nightly battle between supernatural entities: avatars that hint at a larger war for the fate of mankind.

The Dryer family has moved to the tiny town of Bensalem in search of a simpler life and a fresh start. The book starts slowly, giving us the lay of the land, allowing us to get to know Aaron, Ellen, and their young son Caleb, and introducing us to the townspeople. Everything is going well until their only neighbor for miles around is horrifically murdered. Then Aaron begins to notice a giant figure lurking in the field in the middle of the night. Things really kick off when Caleb disappears in broad daylight and the subsequent search to find him gradually reveals the centuries-old secrets of the town.

This is my first time reading anything by author Drew Starling, but I was very impressed with his ability to craft a well-paced and satisfying story. The writing is composed and self-assured, and I particularly enjoyed the immersive imagery, world-building, and attention to detail. The dialogue was a bit hit or miss for me, and Aaron came across as ineffectual and frustrating at times, but overall the main characters are developed in a way that really brings them to life. I also like how the story switches perspectives between the parents and the local police officer Cheryl, a tactic that draws us further into the story and gives it a nice balance between supernatural mystery and police procedural.

By far my favorite elements are the creature(s) and the cosmic, Lovecraftian vibes. I don’t want to give away too much, but the creature design is fantastic. The mysterious entity, featured on the book cover, felt so real and original; it had a weight and menace that had me holding my breath and biting my nails whenever it appeared in the dark of the night. There’s also a fair amount of unease and a creeping sensation of the unexplainable that surrounds the events in the story. It feels both grounded and ethereal, and I loved every moment.

Sentinel hits many of the highlights of cult horror, cosmic horror, creature feature, and small town horror. The descriptive writing is impeccable, and I was enthralled by the chilling atmosphere that Starling maintains throughout the book. This is the first book in a series, it’s subtitle is actually The Bensalem Files #1, and I’m very much looking forward to where things go in the next book, Nothus, when it releases later this year!

**Review originally published in SCREAM Magazine**

On the outside Maeve seems like an ordinary thirty-something single woman. She owns her own apartment, works as an editor in the publishing industry, and has a relationship with a bartender that’s mostly physical. But behind this average facade lies a past that Maeve is desperate to hide: specifically the strange cult she was raised in, as well as the intense loneliness and sense of displacement that has plagued her all her life. When Maeve’s cousin Andrea, who was also raised in the cult, suddenly contacts her out of the blue, Maeve thinks she might have just found the belonging she’s been missing. What she doesn’t know is that Andrea is harboring some dark secrets of her own.

The novel has a fantastically odd and intriguing premise. Andrea is the founder of a tech company called NewLife, which creates creepy realistic dolls to help both expectant and grieving mothers, and much of the story is set in the massive, ancient, and remote estate that she and her husband Rob own. Andrea has recently lost her own child, and now she’s intent on purchasing Maeve’s fertility (by buying an egg from her). Then there’s the Motherhood Collective, a cult pledged to the superiority of mothers and dismissal of men to an extent that is both violent and disturbing. Why exactly is Andrea so eager for Meave to stay with them? What lengths will she go to in order to secure Maeve’s “cooperation”? What horrifying memories from the past has Maeve buried deep in her subconscious? And has the Motherhood Collective been banished for good?

Unfortunately, the book takes too long to answer those questions, and much of my interest was lost until the final quarter. To be fair, the final act is full of twists (some expected, some surprising) and shockingly gruesome scenes. But does such an ending make up for the laborious trudge that it took to get there?

There are moments of tension throughout that bloom to full on suspense and horror towards the end. I enjoyed learning about the cult, especially through the chapters written in flashback when Maeve was a child. The revelations in the final act had my heart thudding in anger at the injustices done to Maeve. And the lifelike doll concept and cult-like adoration of Andrea by her followers was pretty creepy.

And yet, like I mentioned, much of the book moves at a snail's pace. I had a good idea of where the book was heading, so it felt like torture waiting for things to kick off. I’m a fan of dread and slow burn stories, but this one lost me. It also felt like the characters had to voice their opinions on motherhood every few pages. I’m not sure if this was the author beating me over the head with a message, or just repetitive writing.

Just Like Mother has some of the same sinister and unnerving elements that make stories like Rosemary’s Baby, The Invitation, and Westworld so good. When its sci-fi, gothic, and cult horror elements are working, they work well. But overall the book felt like it would be better suited as a short story, at least in its current form. I will also admit that, not being a woman or a mother, I may not have been the best target audience. If you can connect to these characters then I would say it’s worth reading to see what happens at the end. Long live the Motherhood Collective.

**Review originally published in SCREAM Magazine**

Roll up, roll up! It’s opening day at Montague’s Carnival of Delights and Terror! The jangling of calliope music and cries of carnies shouting their side shows drift across the fairgrounds. Under the baking sun you can partake in all of the games, rides, treats, and prize-winning competitions you desire. At the far end of the fairgrounds sits the towering ferris wheel called The Whirl, its massive shadow spinning slowly across the tents. And right here we have our very own ghost train, aptly called Journey Through The Crypt. But wait, the ride is broken down? And a young girl has suddenly gone missing?

American small towns are known for their patriotic values and their distrust of outsiders, in this case drifters and carnies. So when animals are mysteriously mutilated and young Lily Grey disappears, the townspeople naturally blame the recently arrived carnival - specifically the new hire Joe Cage. But Joe is innocent and eager to prove so, just as he is desperate to escape the past that haunts him. As the search for Lily deepens, the town will soon realize that the carnival is harboring a secret: an ancient evil, thirsty for blood.

This is a fairly lengthy novel, but it never felt long. The story moves at a decent pace and every scene feels necessary, or at least entertaining. It’s definitely a “page turner,” and I appreciated the amount of time the author spent allowing us to get to know these characters. The enigmatic Joe Cage, the conflicted Sheriff Jackson, the traumatized Grey family, and all the various carnies and townspeople in between - most every character is interesting, lifelike, and well-developed. I felt very connected to these characters, both the heroes I loved and the villains I hated. It's a great cast all around.

Though the characters hold the spotlight in my heart, the storyline is a close second on the ticket. There is suspense and dread from the start, as the novel opens on a field of tragically slaughtered and dismembered cattle. Then, there’s the strange disappearance of Lily at the carnival and the carnies themselves, whose malicious secrets begin to reveal themselves in the second half. And finally there’s Joe Cage, with his scarred wrists and troubling past - one that is frightening and awful, but one he must deal with in order to help save the town and himself. It’s captivating stuff, punctuated with the exclamation point of a violent bloodbath when all hell breaks loose in the final act.

Montague’s Carnival of Delights and Terror reads like an ode to Bradbury’s Something Wicked This Way Comes and a love letter to the best stories of Stephen King. Author Jamie Stewart said he was inspired by the horror novels of the 70s and 80s, and those tropes are well represented here. You can certainly tell the author has put a lot of energy and heart into crafting this tale. The engaging storyline, interesting characters, quick pacing, and entertaining blend of horror and humanity make this an easy recommendation.

**Review originally published in SCREAM Magazine**

The Breathlands are like any other family from the backwoods. You know, like those in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Hills Have Eyes, and Wrong Turn. Sephorina has her hands full trying to take care of everyone. Her mama is nine years pregnant with twins and about to burst. Her daddy lives in a bathtub trying to regrow all four recently lost limbs. Her grandma consorts with the supernatural and brews regenerating blood potions. And her brother Hughie is a jerk. It’s up to Sephorina to seduce and kill young men so their “milk” can be drained for her daddy’s restoration.

This is one of those books I will never forget. It reads at a blistering pace with jaw-dropping moments around every corner. It’s bizarre, hilarious, and repulsive in the best way possible. In other words, pure entertainment. So many scenes - such as the disgusting birthing of the twins or their terrifying transformations later on - are seared into my brain forever. In addition to the overall strangeness and vulgarity, I love the world that author Andrew Post built: the cult-like nature of the family, the various rituals and folk horror deities, and so on.

With a story like this, Post could easily have stayed in the extreme horror territory and relied on shock value alone, but he’s smarter than that. Yes it’s campy, gory, shocking, and gross. But, it’s also a story about family dynamics and misfortune that is very well written. Apart from all the murder and pacts with demons, the Breathlands could be any old family trying to make their way in life. You find yourself rooting for the big sister who murders men to protect her family, and that tension between sinister audacity and sympathetic authenticity is part of what makes this novella so great.

Milk Teeth is a nonstop thrillride of unnatural oddities and quirky characters; a horrifying story that also has a lot of heart. It’s equal parts redneck Lovecraft and Rob Zombie, but it also feels like its own unique entry in the hillbilly/cosmic/folk horror genre. There is much left to be explored in the world of the Breathlands, and I sincerely hope the author will grace us with a sequel in the near future!

**Review originally published in SCREAM Magazine**

Imagine suddenly being struck immobile, unable to move or speak. Your brain and bodily functions are still active, but you’re trapped inside a body that has become like a stone prison. Hopefully, you didn’t freeze somewhere dangerous. Hopefully, you didn’t shut down away from others. Your very existence now depends on whether someone will find you and care for you.

This terrifying scenario is at the heart of Stephanie Ellis’s speculative sci-fi thriller Paused. A mysterious epidemic is quickly spreading across the globe. People are freezing without warning, hospitals are filling up, and chaos is spreading. No one knows what’s happening or who the disease will strike down next. It’s up to Dr. Alex and his research team to find a cure before it’s too late. But, the clock is quickly winding down, and each day, each hour, brings humanity one step closer to total shutdown.

The novella is reminiscent of science thrillers like those of Michael Crichton, with its rapid pacing, intentional focus on characters, and a conflict that examines both global devastation and individual panic. The author shows how this mysterious plague affects all people, and I appreciate that the POV changes some throughout the story. Some of the best chapters are the ones told from the perspective of the afflicted, as we see first hand how they become helplessly trapped in their own skin. It’s harrowing and quite disturbing, especially when their untimely inaction leads to their own death or the deaths of others. Imagine all the worst ways to die and not being able to do anything about it…chilling stuff.

The writing is fast-paced and urgent. You really feel the tension and fear of the scientists as they race against the clock, and the suspense continues to ratchet up as more and more people fall prey to the invisible enemy. I love the concept and the characters, but my biggest issue is that there’s not enough here. The pace, ironically, almost moves too quickly. There’s a lot tossed at the reader, but not all of it is fully fleshed out. I want more scenes of disaster, more insight into the malady, more trips out of the lab and into the real world, longer moments of character development, and so on. In short, I want Ellis to turn this into a full novel.

Thankfully, this is more than just another pandemic story. It serves as a thoughtful commentary on the various ways a society can break down. From individuals’ and governmental responses to research scientists and conspiracy theorists, Ellis has provided a full picture of how society can descend into chaos. An enigmatic disease that seemingly strikes at random is a terrifying force to reckon with, and you’ll be rooting alongside the scientists as they test every possible alternative to find the explanation. Despite the few qualms I have, I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend Paused by Stephanie Ellis.

**Review originally published in SCREAM Magazine**

It’s exciting to read a story and have no idea where you’re going or where you’ll end up. A story that hooks you in and keeps you guessing with its twists and turns, that populates its prose with believable characters and places them in increasingly outlandish scenarios. I’m pleased to say that Scott Cole’s latest collection Departures is full of exactly these types of stories.

The collection opens with “Egg House”, a story about a man who buys a new house and discovers a giant egg hiding behind the bathroom door. The egg looks and smells strange, but the real horror kicks in when it finally cracks open and reveals its mind-bending interior. This story sets the tone for the unique and imaginative storytelling that Cole does so well.

Each of the ten stories here fall under the brand of dark fiction, but they are nicely varied in their plots and horror influences. “Cold Hands” reads like early gothic fiction and tells of an abused spouse who takes matters into his own hands. “The Trunk” is like something Roald Dahl might have written, with its mysterious stranger offering a deceptively simple challenge. “The Noise Machine” has a blend of terror and sci-fi that feels like its from Bradbury or Ellison. And “Only Bad People”' comes across as a modern day version of the stories Poe and M.R. James used to write.

Some stories, like “Clown Noses” and “The Noise Machine”, are deeply unsettling without resorting to abundant gore. Other stories, such as “Gourds” and “Can’t See the Forest”, revel in their body horror trappings and gross out moments. “The Penanggalan” features a creature from Malaysian folklore and reads almost like travel writing. Regardless of the type of horror, all the stories here are a lot of fun!

Scott Cole writes with a clear and engaging voice, and there’s often an undercurrent of dark humor running throughout. I like that each story focuses on ordinary people who, usually through no fault of their own, find themselves in bizarre and unfortunate situations. With its boundless creativity and variety of frights, Departures is an easy recommendation for those who like their horror with a side of surrealism.