Strangeways: The Thirsty Matt Maxwell Graphic Novel Review by Darkeva I usually don't like Westerns; not most of them anyway. My dad on the other hand - well, let's just say that he could be a filmographer for John Wayne with no trouble. I should perhaps also clarify that I don't usually enjoy straight Westerns, with few exceptions such as The Quick and the Dead, but even when characters on a television show travel back to the Old West, I don't get into it. However, if there are supernatural elements at play - say, a combination of a vampire story with a Western setting, I tend to be more open to taking a second look. I'm also a huge fan of graphic novels, which is why I'm glad I had the chance to review Strangeways: The Thirsty, a graphic novel by Matt Maxwell, which is basically Dracula in a Western setting - fangs at high noon. The way the story is broken out is well-organized and easy to follow. Collins is a gunslinger who comes to Drytown to find it's a death trap. The head vampire, Raphael De Medina, controls his vampire minions and battles Collins; on his side is the Engineer, a man of Spanish descent who knows how to kill vampires. Guns and regular bullets don't work on them. Neither does silver. But sunlight, holy water, crosses, garlic-those things all work, and a few well-timed explosions also do the trick. It's a fast-paced story that reads as though it's a television miniseries. The dialogue is great, and thankfully not too heavily inflected with an exaggerated Western accent, nor do the characters of Spanish backgrounds speak in a stereotypical manner (also a bonus), and the ending is jam-packed with a great resolution and the chance for Collins's story to continue. The last section of the graphic novel highlights De Medina's origins, how he became a vampire, why he became the way he did (to a certain extent), and it was like an Easter egg or bonus feature on a DVD. Though the artwork is also great and keeping it in black and white doesn't detract from the final product, it's sometimes hard to differentiate De Medina and Collins in the frames as their garb is quite similar and both wear oversized hats. Despite that, it's a wonderful combination of vampires and Westerns, and makes the perfect reading recommendation for that reader you know who wishes that Deadwood would have vampires.

The Whisperer Donato Carrisi Mulholland Books Hardcover, 432 pages, $25.99 Review by Sheila M. Merritt Nothing is quite what it seems in Donato Carrisi's The Whisperer. The novel, which has already created a stir in Europe, is a psychological thriller with more twists and turns than a cornered politician. The narrative initially appears to be moving on a straight linear path, then does a fake in a different direction; repeatedly. Elusive and entrancing, The Whisperer takes the notion of cat-and-mouse to another level: teasing and confounding the reader along with the story's criminal investigators. Manipulative to the max, the book is a riveting read that injects the tired serial killer subgenre with a well needed stimulant. Without divulging too much of the plot, the bare bones scenario is: The severed left arms of six young girls are discovered, buried in a circle. Five girls are known to have been recently abducted, prompting questions about the sixth appendage...and what has become of the remainder of the missing bodies. Called into the case are brilliant criminologist Goran Gavila and Officer Mila Vasquez. Vasquez is a specialist in locating lost persons. She is especially skilled at finding children. As it becomes likely that the five known abductees may well be dead, Mila puts her focus on the mysterious sixth amputee, who is possibly the lone survivor. Gory and gruesome discoveries escalate as Vasquez and Gavila become plunged into an investigation with profoundly personal resonances. Their disturbing uncoverings include: A network of pedophiles comprised of well-to-do, outwardly respectable folk; a prisoner who leaves no traces of his DNA; terrified kids forced into mock smiles for photographs; and a web of grisly and sadistic murders that have connections to the abductions. The separate acts of unhinged individuals meld into an unholy cohesive whole. And just when it looks like the situation can't get any more grim, it does. Those who actively do harm are rightfully depicted as evildoers in the tale but people who allow such occurrences to happen, by turning a blind eye or acquiescing, are also deemed reprehensible through their quiet complicity: "Sometimes a human being discovers that he has an evil nature, which means he can only find happiness by killing someone else. There's a name for him: a murderer, or serial killer. But what do you call the others, the ones around him who don't stop it happening, or who even take advantage of it?" Regarding atmosphere, it should be noted that despite the author's Italian name and residence, the action occurs in an unidentified place. The characters are not specific to a particular country or region; the geographical setting is nebulous. This is a clever paving of a sense of the universal, cementing the storyline to a common accessibility - and making the probable film adaptation more viable. Author Carrisi gets down and dirty in terms of analyzing psychotic temperament, and is calculating and precise in how he lays out the serpentine story elements of the novel. Despite the inevitable post-reading critical reaction replete with reflection on plot holes, what sticks in the mind are ghoulish images and complex analytical back stories. Charles Manson is evoked, bringing to mind that responsibility for heinous crimes doesn't always entail direct participation. What gets under the skin in this yarn is what lies beneath the surface; how maniacal manipulations are too readily possible, and how deceit (including self deception) exists on many levels. The Whisperer distresses and disrupts comfort zones. The book doesn't tolerate complacency. Donato Carrisi shakes things up; assumptions lead to errors and profound damage. His narrative haunts, agitates - and fascinates.

Animosity James Newman Necessary Evil Press Price: $45.00 (limited edition) Review by Darkeva How well do you know your neighbors? It's a question most people don't give a second thought to these days, content that they exchange perfunctory pleasantries with those in their immediate vicinity, on either side of their houses But imagine what would happen if those seemingly normal and well-adjusted neighbors find out that you write horror. Chances are at least some of them would be disturbed, especially if they don't understand the genre and can't imagine why anyone would write it. Most horror writers would probably keep quiet about it. Or their neighbors wouldn't take much of an interest. But in Animosity, horror writer Andrew Holland doesn't have it so easy. Because of his great success, everyone on the block knows he writes horror. His neighbors know that even though they don't read his work, he's basically a nice guy and like him for the most part. He's also a family man with a loving wife and daughter, and he certainly doesn't have any reason to believe that people who he's known for so long and who have been so kind to him could turn out to be the worst monsters he's ever encountered. But as the saying goes, all good things come to an end. He catches his wife cheating, and a divorce follows. Not long after, he discovers the corpse of a little girl in his idyllic neighborhood and descends into a hell even he couldn't conjure from his dark imagination. He can't begin to describe how horrific it is for him to have found the body, a pain that would be magnified a thousand times if it were his own daughter, Samantha. No direct evidence points to him, but the neighbors learn from media reports that he found the girl, and they get suspicious, starting to make leaps and accusations. They ignore the fact that if he murdered the child, he would probably cover his tracks as opposed to bringing it to the police's attention. Still, he found the corpse. Not much that points to his guilt - except for a conviction for raping a minor, which the police unearth in their background check. The media also finds out, and mentions it in their reports, which heightens tensions among the neighbors who reason that if he could rape a minor before, he could have committed this murder. A flashback shows the reader the circumstances of the alleged "rape" (it's not what you might think). The neighbors, of course, don't get this explanation, and even if they did, are so far gone that it wouldn't make a difference. In their eyes, Andrew has become a pedophile and murderer. The gruesome gore scenes in his novels don't make a great case for his innocence. His neighbors descend into a dangerous herd mentality that escalates with one violent act after another. Anything Andrew does only seems to make the situation worse. It's difficult for the reader to see what's happening to Holland, and how the mass outbreak of hysteria manifests itself into a dark force more evil and destructive than any demon or ghoul from Hell. Human nature is the most powerful weapon at the disposal of Holland's neighbors, and they give in to their irrational beliefs about him. Everything culminates in a neighborhood brawl that sees some of his neighbors becoming downright bestial, all because they think he's a murderer. There's an even more tragic irony that I won't divulge here in the interest of not giving away the plot, but this book powerfully illustrates the damaging effect it can have when a group of people choose to believe something and don't allow common sense to prevail; when they choose to ignore the facts before them and invent their own lies to justify their twisted beliefs - a sick example of confirmation bias. So next time you move to a new neighborhood and your neighbors ask what you do for a living, you may want to rethink what you tell them.

Supernatural Tales #20 Edited by David Longhorn Supernatural Tales Press, Trade Paperback £17.00 Reviewed by Mario Guslandi The 20th issue of Supernatural Tales, the magazine/anthology created by David Longhorn continues to offer to dark fiction lovers a varied menu of well written, enticing short stories. Among the tales included therein I want to mention, first of all, "The Folded Hands" by Katherine Hayes, an experienced author who contributes a fascinating, puzzling, almost Aickmanesque story featuring an unsuccessful magician, a wealthy gentleman and a girl desperately in love. "Wolf Hour" by Daniel Mills, although not quite original (it blends a lot of classical ingredients of the ghost story: the femme fatale, the séance, the doppelganger...) manages to engross the reader thanks to its eerie, atmospheric nature. The mysterious Philbampus provides "Sallow," an obscure, slightly blasphemous tale of horror and pedophilia, set in the world of a little parish in a forlorn village. Brian Day's "Good for the Gander" is a gentle piece where a widower living in a deserted area is lured by deceiving party lights appearing in various empty houses. "The Friends of Faustina" by Michael Chislett is an enigmatic, compelling cocktail of cultural touring in Brighton and ghostly appearances, served with a bit of humor and a touch of eroticism. Delicious! Unfortunately I can't say much about Andrew Kolarik's "The Burning Man." I don't have a clue, surely due to my limited intelligence, what the "story" is about but other readers will possibly be able to find its meaning. As always the booklet is supplemented but a few interesting, insightful reviews by the Editor.

Aloha from Hell Richard Kadrey Harper Voyager Hardcover, 448 pages, $23.99 Review by Sheila M. Merritt Sandman Slim returns to the underworld in Aloha from Hell. Author Richard Kadrey's furiously funny fire-and-brimstone novel is a primer on how to write snappy, sardonic dialogue. The witticisms are wild; the descriptions devilishly clever. Kadrey's prose engrosses, which is a major plus since the plot is convoluted and overpopulated with ancillary characters. The book contains no chapters; just space breaks that add to the sense of a relentlessly ongoing narrative that lingers too long in limbo. Fortunately, half-angel/half-human Sandman Slim (otherwise known as Jim Stark) makes observations that are lean and mean. He cuts to the quick, even when the scenario gets weighted down by a plethora of personages with complicated histories and agendas. Wisecracking Jim Stark always seizes the opportunity to sarcastically appraise a situation. Learning that he must commit suicide to get back into Hell, this conclusion is reached: "After you've been shot, stabbed, slashed, burned, and almost zombified and survived it all, death gets kind of abstract. It's like valentines and diplomas. Something other people have to deal with." The hardboiled antihero's reason to revisit to Hades concerns a lost love. Alice died years ago in violent circumstances connected with Stark's supernatural dealings. She went to Heaven, but is subsequently snatched by Jim's enemies and transported to the depths to be used as the lure in an elaborately constructed vendetta. Simultaneously, life on earth is moving on for the protagonist, who takes a smoldering relationship to the next level. His new amour has some dangerous qualities which make her a fine match for Stark: Their coupling is ideal for them both; they destroy most of their lodging while making love. Like countless noir leading man prototypes, Jim Stark is a sucker for the ladies. While still stewing about Alice's untimely demise, and concerned about the ramifications of another potentially deep involvement, he theorizes: "Sometimes just seeing a woman smile is like a knife in the heart. It hurts and rattles your whole system, but against all your instincts you swallow the pain and keep looking. After a while you realize it doesn't hurt as much as you thought it would." What does hurt Slim is the participation of celestial entities in the malevolent melee. There's the yin-yang quality to Heaven and Hell; and sometimes it's hard to tell the players apart without a scorecard. One team can be equally as harmful as the other, especially when there's a lengthy history of grievances on both sides. Stark/Slim slings verbal barbs with élan; slamming deities, demons, and their turf with equal earthy eloquence: "Hell is just L.A. with lousy head shots." Los Angeles receives a particularly biting Slim slam in this marvelous description of a local hotel: "It's like a cross between a seventies swingers no-tell motel and the kind of hipster hot spot where rock stars stay when they don't want to be seen bringing home good smack or bad strippers. The rooms are comfortable in a Zen halfway-house kind of way. But the kitchens are decorated in bright primary-colored vinyl like a Playboy-chic burger joint. The place looks like where David Lynch would meet Beaver Cleaver's mom for secret afternoons of bondage and milk shakes." Aloha from Hell is an urban fantasy that excels in confab. Even during periods when the novel's over-embellished storyline lulls, scribe Richard Kadrey proves he's a pro at palaver.

The Winter Chills Book Review Project is up and running. Originally proposed by Dylan at Monster Librarian (he’s the one who keeps it going), the book review project teams up a handful of horror related web sites all offering a variety of horror book reviews for readers to enjoy for free. This time out, our very own Sheila M. Merritt reviews The Secret of Crickley Hall by James Herbert. Description: Would you stay in a haunted house for more than one night? Would you live in a place where ghostly things keep happening? Where a cellar door you know you locked the night before is always open the following morning? Where hushed whimpering is heard? Where white shadows steal through the darkness? Where the presence of evil is all around you? Would you? Should you? The Caleighs did, but they had their reasons. They should have known better though. As the terror mounts, they begin to regret their decision. As the horror rises, they realize their very lives are at risk ... and so is their sanity. For the secret of Crickley Hall is beyond all nightmares. Below the review, you’ll find links to other reviews provided by other horror web sites. All for your reading enjoyment. Here’s where to get started: The Secret of Crickley Hall

Tattered Souls 2 Frank J. Hutton, Editor Cutting Block Press Trade Paper, 218 pages, $18.99 Review by Sheila M. Merritt Psychically tortured individuals populate Tattered Souls 2, a fine anthology of eight stories that studies fear from odd perspectives. Included in the pages of the book are tales of: an actress who becomes transfigured by a legendary fan; a battered woman's epistolary account that is punctuated with bruises; and a man who is propelled into action by a hematic-infused relationship. These three narratives, in terms of subject matter and execution, are extremely impressive. And are, therefore, the focus of this review. In "Misery and Me" by Anne Michaud, a vampire love story blends addictions - blood and drugs. The language of the piece creates its own narcotic buzz; a haze more red than purple. The male protagonist comprehends the allure of his seductress, and succumbs rather like a school boy: "He fell quiet and didn't know what to do with his hands until a brisk gust of wind blew her hair across her face, a strand getting caught on her lips. As he gently brushed it aside, his fingers touched her skin ever so slightly. Her flesh was cold. Liriel didn't move, kept her gaze on his, testing him." "Misery and Me" has an edgy poetry. This dance of death includes a few moves that defy conventional thematic choreography. Skewed love is a tie that binds in Kathleen Dale's "Becka." The first person narrator is verbally and physically abused by the main men in her life. Becka's low self-esteem began with beratings and beatings from her dad. Now married to an equally injurious guy, she finds some release through documenting the hurtful exchanges. Her writings disclose the inner turmoil, as well as her feelings of uneasiness concerning an unseen presence that gets riled up when she is threatened. Empowerment is near and yet oh so far, as Becka becomes emboldened by the externalization/manifestation of seething rage determined to protect her at all costs. Writer Dale does a superior job conveying the protagonist's emotional entrapment, engaging the reader's sympathy. When Becka feels liberated, the reader internally cheers; when the character is deflated and defeated, tears of frustration may very likely flow. Blood, both real and fake, is what flows freely in "Mademoiselle Guignol." Stephanie Shaw sets her tale at the notoriously gory Theatre du Grand Guignol. Paris in 1913 is in a state of transition. The Belle Époque era is giving way to artistic change reflecting more discordant times: Cubism; Stravinsky's shocking composition "The Rite of Spring;" and a World War on the horizon. Flourishing in the midst of this cultural flux, the Grand Guignol continues to supply bloodthirsty spectators with sanguinary satisfaction. Among the regular attendees, who run the gamut of society, is a mysterious elderly Englishman. He finds the acting of Lina, known as Mademoiselle Guignol, enthralling and imbued with truth. She understands and easily accesses the tenebrous regions of the soul; a beauty who knows the bestial: "Hers was a neck made for breaking - a stem of a tragic lily blessed by a complexion so transparent one could see blood rush madly beneath it." Her dark, violence-filled performances are sensual to the max. Although she can reproduce an orgasm on stage by thinking of her lover, Lina dismisses sex as synonymous with death in real life: "Death, she wanted to whisper, was not erotically charged. Death was tedious and drawn out, it came to women after hard and bloody labor, to men after a lifetime of drinking and ditch digging. It ran children down in the streets via hansom cab or flu. When not monotonous, Death was almost comical in its abruptness. A misstep off the curb, a distracted butcher, a match thrown too close to the gas line. And no organ played." Ever the realist, Lina has seen the writing on the wall. Her life as "Mademoiselle Guignol" must end; an aging actress in a climate of shifting trends needs to make adjustments. Her final performance is laden with appropriate shocks. The audience is particularly surprised when she doesn't appear for curtain calls, leading to speculation that perhaps a lethal accident occurred. The English admirer is puzzled and driven to investigate, setting the stage for a denouement that is indeed pure Grand Guignol. Stephanie Shaw's tale is highly atmospheric; displaying a keen sense of place and period. Graced with smart dialogue and memorable characters, this story along with the works of Anne Michaud and Kathleen Dale, are more than enough reason to seek out a copy of the overall excellent Tattered Souls 2. [Editor's Note: the Kindle edition has just been released and is available on the Kindle for $2.99 here: Tattered Souls 2 ]