I didn’t want to write THE HONEYS. I had to.

I’ve had the idea for THE HONEYS since before I was even an author. It was always horror, but it felt wrong from the start. It wasn’t dark and spooky, like the movies and stories I loved. Instead, I could feel it as this lovely, unsettling brightness far off in my future. The book always centered on a character trying to make sense of a recent death in their life, but the strangeness of it all made it hard to start.

And then my sister died. Very suddenly. Grief recolored everything in my life. Time and space felt warped by this new heaviness I embodied. And suddenly the idea for this book--this far-off brightness--was immediate and burning me up from within.

Those who have dealt with death will know this: you must get it out. I wrote mine out into the horror that is The Honeys. The book opens with Mars awakening to his sister attacking him, and in the ensuing fight they fall from the second story of their house. Together, embraced. Mars survives because he lands on his sister, crushing her, and she dies instead (this is not a spoiler, this is page six). It’s an accident, a horrible fluke, but Mars can’t shake the sense that everything about what just happened was planned. And so, in his grief, he develops obsession: relive his sister’s final days and figure out what it all means.

Grief in horror isn’t new or anything, in fact it’s an ancient and common fuel for many horrors, but like light through a prism, it splits into all sorts of dimensions when it passes through a storyteller. For me, grief wasn’t a ghost, or inky shadows. A ghost would have been a comfort, and shadows would have been nice to hide within.

For me, grief was an inescapable brightness lighting up my world in a new, awful way. Normal things became horrific in its strange illumination. Setting the table, singing happy birthday, taking photos -- everyday life becomes its own monster, yet no one but you can see it. That’s why I decided to write a story in which the monsters don’t lurk in shadows; they simply stand before you in the bright of day, convincing you that you’re the crazy one for wondering why no one else is running away.

Mars links his sister’s gruesome death with her clique of campmates known as the Honeys--beautiful, cunning, inexplicably terrifying, and named for the mysterious beehives they tend to behind their cabin. Mars witnesses one such honey coax a living bee from his sister’s ear at the open-casket wake. He follows them back to camp, where his late sister lived her final few weeks, immersing himself in a setting that should be lit with an almost juvenile nostalgia. But it’s wrong. It all feels very off to Mars. This is where the bright, inescapable nature of my grief makes its nest. The journey leads Mars right up to the Honeys and their hives, and then into their perfumed world, where he may finally find answers about his sister’s death. But that’s only if he can remember what he’s searching for.

The Honeys are not what they seem. And grief isn’t an obvious monster. It doesn’t lurk under beds or spring out of shadows. It doesn’t pass through populations like an infection. It doesn’t zombify. You can’t stake it in the heart. So how is it defeated?

Connection. Sensitivity. That was my discovery, at least. It isn’t Mars’s. I won’t spoil much, but in a book about girls who keep bees, it’s not hard to imagine there is something to be learned from the tiny animal, the mind that lives in millions of bodies all at once; something further to be learned about the divine power in letting down one’s guard and giving all your pain over to a larger system. A hive, perhaps. I myself have had to redevelop my own connection with the world these last few years, and I now understand the power that such sensitivity bestows. Unlike Mars, however, there’s nothing supernatural waiting for me to open up and let it in. At least not that I know of. But if there was, and if it was already within me, would I know?

The blaze of summer bleaches all color from convictions, I find, and it can be tempting to give oneself over to the sweet embrace that the Honeys--the girls and their cottagcore camouflage--use to entreat their prey. Acceptance, I think is the term, from all those self-help books people kept quoting to me. I appreciate the sentiment--really, I do--but this is a horror story. That’s why The Honeys has a sixth stage. Because some of us need a bigger finale to our suffering than simple acceptance. Some of us, like Mars, will find they require a bit of sweet, sweet revenge.
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THE FIRST HORROR BOOK I REMEMBER READING
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When I was a kid, I used to love reading the Point Horror books, but that was so long ago that I wouldn’t be able to tell you a single title. Then, as I entered my mid-teens, reading became displaced as a hobby by other things, and it wasn’t until a far few years later that I picked up fiction books again.

When I did, I was devouring anything to do with zombies, and I remember picking up The Zombie Survival Guide by Max Brooks. This obviously didn’t follow your average narrative structure, nor is it strictly horror, but its uniqueness in the genre certainly made it stand out and provided something different to get me back on the reading wagon.

THE FIRST HORROR FILM I REMEMBER WATCHING

As a kid, I was obsessed with horror and the more ghoulish shows. I imagine everyone reading this was the same, and I remember being about ten and getting my mum to tape any late night horror off the TV. One of these, in fact the one I remember first and the most, was the Hammer Horror film Plague of the Zombies.
Everything about it was perfect and I’ll be honest, knowing now the differences between British and European horror, it served as a perfect gateway for a kid my age. Of course, it was slightly macabre and no one would forget that hideous faced, iconic greyish zombie, but it was all just so British.

Maybe a year later, once I had progressed from taping whatever was on the TV to actually having films bought for me, I remember my mum brought back two video tapes from the store - Wolf, with Jack Nicholson. No thank you, and a random Jean Rollin film put out by Redemption Films. Which one it was, I have no idea. I watched it once and thought, ‘what the fuck is this’. Nowadays, though, it would be a different response.

THE GREATEST HORROR BOOK OF ALL TIME

Well, it is a clear cop-out answer, but the Necronomicon release of tales by H.P. Lovecraft, which contains around 36 tales I think. Because of this, it’s a fantastic contender for the greatest horror book simply because of the amount of quality it contains within.

If I had to pick one particular book, then I would go with Slugs by Shaun Hutson, which for me is just a proper slice of humerous British horror and helped inform me in what sort of horror I wanted to write.

THE GREATEST HORROR FILM OF ALL TIME

This is something where my opinion has, understandably, changed over time, depending on where I was in life. But one film has constantly remained in my top three and I’ll stick my neck out and say probably (although using that qualifier word probably negates my claim) is the greatest horror of all time - Zombie Flesh Eaters.

The film is a testament to everyone involved in that film, not least Lucio Fulci, for which I would argue it gave a fresh shot of life to his career.

It is also ironic that a film that set out to cash in on the success of Romero’s Dawn of the Dead would in many ways surpass it. For me, this is because it doesn’t rip off Romero in the way you would expect. Sure, it pretends to be a sequel of sorts, hell just look at the Italian title, but in reality, the story has its basis more in the Tex Willer adventure comics and somehow Fulci (and De Rossi) push the gore and violence resulting in an irresistible combination.

Not to mention there’s a zombie vs a shark. WTF!

THE GREATEST WRITER OF ALL TIME

Actually, I’m going to have to go off-piste here and name the French crime writer Jean Patrick-Manchette. During my long-lasting zombie obsessed phase, I tried my hand at writing some short stories, with no luck, but it was only when I first read Manchette it truly inspired me to write.

There is something about his style, his cynicism, and his social awareness that draws me in and lifts him above others for me. I always believe that the purpose of art, with writing and film being a part of that, is like a triangle. In the bottom two corners, you have entertainment and intellectual stimulation (be that social commentary, posing a question, etc.) while at the apex of the triangle, where the lines of the two corners converge, you have the combination of the two. This is where the fantastic books, films, artworks that truly inspire in life. For me, Manchette completes the triangle.

That said, not everything seeks to make this type of art. The Italian b-movie director, Bruno Mattei is quoted as saying “movies are supposed to be entertaining. So, they have to be made with that kind of spirit.”

In that vein, two of my favourite reads do just this extremely well - and perhaps this is because they only set out to entertain. These books are Slugs and Breeding Ground by Shaun Hutson. It was his style I had in mind when I wrote Killerpede.

THE BEST BOOK COVER OF ALL TIME

Quite frankly if you don’t see the cover for John Christopher’s The Little People and immediately try to find a copy of it, well I don’t know what’s wrong with you. It immediately screams…’what the?’

More recently, the cover of Pupille by Luigi Musolino that was put out by the Italian publisher Zona 42 was fantastic. The use of red on black was striking and the book cover just had a nice, perhaps slightly raised feel that really impressed me.

THE BEST FILM POSTER OFF ALL TIME

The Ghanaian poster for Jurassic Park is pretty special, and certainly keeps in line with my love of the creature feature sub-genre, but I would have to go with something trashy like The Nail Gun Massacre which perfectly embodies the violent promise and sleazy nature of that style of film. It might even be better than the film, as was often the case (I’m looking at you Mardi Gras Massacre and The Toolbox Murders).

THE MOST UNDERRATED FILM OF ALL TIME

I’m not entirely sure underrated is the right word, but Dellamorte Dellamore aka The Cemetery Man deserves a lot more love and recognition than it gets. Based on the Dylan Dog comics, this film runs the gamut of human emotions from love and loss, to camaraderie, humiliation, friendship and jealousy.

Everett is simply fantastic in his role as Francesco Dellamorte, and it really was worth the producers time holding out for their man rather than taking the first bit of money that was offered and compromising (rumours of Matt Dillon being in place for the original proposed investors).

However, Creatures from the Abyss aka Plankton by Al Passari is an underrated gem, and considering you can watch it for free on YouTube or pick up the DVD for only a couple of quid it deserves more people, who like gross out creature feature horror comedy, checking it out. I was fortunate to speak to the director a few years ago, and he seemed a bloody nice man, too.

THE MOST UNDERRATED BOOK OF ALL TIME

Well, from a non-horror perspective, it is either S.F.W. by Andrew Wellman (which was turned into one of the ultimate 90s slacker films alongside Mallrats), or No Room at the Morgue by Jean-Patrick Manchette. Both have UK releases but I think they must have been short run (S.F.W.) or muted (No Room…) as I don’t think either have had much impact.

However, if I had to pick a horror novel that I feel was never given the wider love or attention it merited (I didn’t even know it was put out on Verotik), then I would choose Header by Edward Lee. This story should have received more lasting coverage and achieved more widespread acclaim (outside of the immediate community - where, in fairness, it is always held up as an example).

Also, I sound like a stuck record would like to give a quick shout out to Breeding Ground, by Shaun Hutson, which is the sequel to Slugs. I never see it get talked about on its own merits, but along with the first, it was instrumental in my love for fun animal horror/creature features.


THE MOST UNDERRATED AUTHOR OF ALL TIME

Well, it’s clearly the delightfully named Jonathan Gash who penned the Lovejoy mysteries. Gash created a terrific bastard of a character and some inventive stories (which then spawned a toned-down but equally terrific TV series), even winning the John Creasey Award in 1977 for The Judas Pair, the debut in the Lovejoy series.

In reality, Mr Gash was a doctor specialising in tropical medicine, so to find the time to pen around 24 Lovejoy novels along with several other series is humbling. Back on topic, however, I picked him because he draws you into this bastard’s world with humour and a touch of mystery, and that is where Lovejoys charm lies. The characters are both recognisable and exaggerated and clearly put on the page to entertain us. Which they do.

We should talk about Thomas Ligotti a lot more too, and so should the more mainstream press.

THE BOOK / FILM THAT SCARED ME THE MOST

As a young kid, it was Poltergeist and even to this day my mind has taken what I saw and amplified it so much that I still say that this film is the one that scared me the most. Although the Turkish film Baskin comes a close second, and so far is the only film that has left me slack jawed in the cinema.


In terms of books, I would like to give another shout out to the disquieting and eerie Pupile by Luigi Musolino which slowly built up the tension and creeped me out more and more as I read.


THE BOOK / FILM I AM WORKING ON NEXT

I am currently working on two projects. The first is another creature feature novella, this one with a single monster and set in a beautiful Italian location. I’m hoping this will be out by the start of next summer. The second is a historical noir that is in the final stages of editing (finally) but will probably be completed after the creature feature.

I love history. As a writer, I try and weave as much of it into my novels as possible. My latest horror/thriller DEMON DAGGER is about demons escaping from Hell, bodily possession, and the selling of souls. Believe it or not, some interesting history ended up even in a story like this. Many believe the souls my fictional demon craves exist, but back in 1907, one man in Haverhill, Massachusetts tried to prove it.

Dr. Duncan MacDougall

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Duncan MacDougall wasn’t a religious zealot or an obsessive spiritualist. He was a certified medical doctor. His theory was that if a soul (or “continuing personality after death” as he put it) existed as an individual thing tied to a specific person, that soul had to be physically part of that person, and that soul would have mass. If the soul continued to exist post-mortem, it would be possible to see a loss of mass after the moment of death. Some of his reasoning was wrapped up in the concept of “ether”, a common scientific misconception of the time, but the logic behind his experiment design was solid.

MacDougall approached his experiment with the soundest of contemporary scientific methods. He built a delicate scale accurate to two-tenths of an ounce that included his subject’s deathbed. He carefully calibrated the apparatus and was certain to account for a host of potential losses like post-mortem voided waste and exhaled final breaths. Then, as subjects, he used individuals on the verge of death with diseases that kept them immobile during their last moments on Earth, lest their movements upset the sensitive scale.

Starting in 1901, he began to conduct his experiments. How he got voluntary participants for them is not documented, but he must have been quite a salesman. Over about a year, he performed the experiment six times. Two of the experiments he discounted because of measuring errors or in one instance “interference by people opposed to our work.”

The four experiments in which he had faith all showed near-immediate losses of mass at the moment of death. This amount varied by individual but was less than an ounce, averaging out to 21 grams.
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Coincident with his last set of human experiments, he performed the same experiments on twelve dogs with a variety of weights, using scales with a higher accuracy of a sixteenth of an ounce. In every instance, there was no weight loss for the dogs after death. The phenomenon he was observing only occurred in humans, and if other animals showed the same post-mortem results, his conclusion was that only humans had souls.

With his experiments far from complete, a reporter got wind of what he was doing. In April 1907, The New York Times published an article about his work that was subsequently picked up by other newspapers across the country. MacDougall was appalled. The story contained some factual inaccuracies, but worse, having his work reported by the press, instead of in an academic journal, sapped it of any scientific credibility.

MacDougall went right to work and by May of 1907 had an article published concurrently in both the journals American Medicine and the Journal of the American Society for Psychical Research. In the article he described his experiments in detail and even concluded with saying the results were preliminary. He encouraged other doctors to perform similar tests to prove or disprove his theories.

MacDougall took an immediate pounding from the medical establishment, often dismissing the theory he was researching without looking at the research itself. Others raised questions about his protocols that were already answered in his journal articles. In the end, no other doctors performed any experiments to validate or invalidate his work. To his own frustration, all his research became a dead end. MacDougal later died at the early age of 54.

In DEMON DAGGER, the demon feeds on the offered souls of the living. Bereft of the divine spark and moral compass the soul provides, these people become dangerous sociopaths. MacDougall’s experiment gave me a framework for that idea, and while no one else built on his work, I had someone do so in the novel. In my fictional experiment, a skeptical doctor performs the same experiments using Texas death row inmates. He debunks MacDougall since none of the dead lose any mass. But the demon hunters know the tests actually validate MacDougall, because the Texas experiments were on soulless sociopaths.

Today our scientific methods are more advanced. We also have documented proof of post-mortem consciousness in hospital rooms, and that points to some form of life after death. Will anyone find a way to ethically repeat MacDougall’s experiment? Probably not, but if they do, I’ll be waiting on the results. I bet I can work them into a DEMON DAGGER sequel.
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(First two images copied from the Wikimedia Commons website. Journal image copied from Google Books.)

“A thrilling game of supernatural cat and mouse.” — Publishers Weekly


“A hugely entertaining story of all-too-human heroes battling soul-devouring demons.

James' best novel yet!" — Tim Waggoner author of We Will Rise

“Demons. Possession. Stolen souls. And a body count that’s rising. Demon Dagger delivers all this and more as novice demon hunter Drew Price must stop one of Hell’s most powerful archdemons before the creature destroys Drew’s family. Russell James doesn’t pull any punches as this story races to a thrilling climax.”
– JG Faherty, author of The Wakening and Sins of the Father
 


 Drew Price has a gift, or perhaps a curse.

When a demon possesses a person, Drew can see the horrific-looking demon that dwells within. This ability has made him a demon hunter, armed with the one weapon that can send these fiends back to Hell; the demon dagger.

A demon named Nicobar sets its sights on punishing this hunter. It starts by taking the soul of Drew’s son, condemning the boy to life as a psychopath.

This fast-paced, chilling novel follows Drew’s attempt to save his son’s soul and then use the blade to end Nicobar’s time on Earth.

“Demon Dagger is an immensely enjoyable page-turner that wastes no time and will keep you engrossed right from the beginning. I hold out hope that there will be a sequel or two from James in the world of Demon Dagger, as he planted the seeds to follow it up with many more stories.” — Grimdark Magazine

DEMON DAGGER
Flame Tree Press — August 16, 2022
288 pages
Hardcover: $26.95 Paperback: $16.95, Kindle: $4.99
ISBN:  978-1-78758-693-2


FLAME TREE PRESS is the imprint of long-standing independent Flame Tree Publishing dedicated to full-length original fiction in the horror and suspense, science fiction & fantasy, and crime / mystery / thriller categories. The list brings together fantastic new authors and the more established; the award winners, and exciting, original voices. Learn more about Flame Tree Press at www.flametreepress.com and connect on social media @FlameTreePress

LOLA was shot on location in Kildare and Dublin features songs composed for the film by acclaimed singer/songwriter Neil Hannon of The Divine Comedy. LOLA will premiere at the 75th anniversary of the Locarno Festival, followed by Edinburgh Film Festival in August, as well as a London screening at FrightFest on 27th August.


Ayvianna also brings her talents to Orchestrator of Storms, narrating a fascinating documentary about the life and work of Eurocult director Jean Rollin. The film recently premiered at Fantasia. From a struggling artist with an unconventional upbringing to the purveyor of New Wave surrealist fantastique via distinctive and unique films such as The Rape of The Vampire, The Iron Rose, Fascination, Lips of Blood and The Living Dead Girl. Sex and nudity, innocence and perversity, stunning visuals and rule-breaking became Rollin trademarks - and you’ll find out why in this provocative, moving and enlightening look at his myth and magic -as friends, critics and actors tell all. Orchestrator of Storms will screen at FrightFest, UK, on 26th August.

The first horror book I remember reading


I have vivid memories of being fascinated, as a young child, by The Devil Rides Out and Dracula on my dad’s bookshelf, and being a little freaked out by the covers (the glorious Arrow issues) and I remember feeling there was something very adult and forbidden about them. The first one I remember daring to read from that shelf was The Day of the Triffids, and it really did feel a little dangerous to me at the time. The TV show had scared me senseless, pure nightmare fuel, and I remember it feeling like a test of bravery. I was far too young to appreciate it at the time, but I got through it and it felt like a big achievement. Technically it’s a sci-fi novel, but to me it will always be a horror novel first and foremost.


The First Horror Film I remember watching


I can blame my dad for this one too. He’s a big Hitchcock fan, so I’m pretty sure it would have been Psycho. I also remember him returning from the video shop one evening with a copy of the original Friday the 13th, I’d not asked for it, I’m not sure I’d even heard of it, and have no idea why he rented it – certainly wasn’t his sort of horror film – and I was far too young to watch it. I like to think he had no idea what he was renting, and it was all a happy accident. But I always look back on that as the starting point to what would become a lifelong love of horror films (I have a real fondness for the Friday films, I think for that reason) Many years later I ended up working in that video shop (the best job in the world!) and I absolutely devoured every horror film on the shelves.

The Greatest Horror Book of All Time

The impossible question! I could make an argument for quite a few, for many different reasons but I would say, simply because of what it means to me, it would be ‘Salem’s Lot. It was my first Stephen King novel, and like so many people, his books were a gateway to so much more, and a large part of why I wanted to write. It’s also a magnificent novel too!


The Greatest Horror Film of all time


It’s pretty hard to look past The Exorcist for that accolade. I first watched it, way too young, when a friend managed to get hold of a pre-cert copy and I sneaked downstairs very early one Sunday to watch it, sound turned low (so, of course, I hadn’t really experienced it at all) I knew the stories, the myths, all the talk of pea soup and spinning heads but for me the horror, the absolute dread, has always been the first three quarters of the film. It’s uncomfortable, at times unbearable, and paced to perfection. It’s a perfect storm of writer and director, the genius of Owen Roizman behind the camera and one of the greatest performances in film by Ellen Burstyn. It’s not a film I can return to very often. It’s never been a film I can settle with.


THE BEST BOOK COVER OF ALL TIME

Simply because of the fear it instilled in me as a young child, the Arrow edition of The Devil Rides Out is probably the one that means the most to me. More recently, I think all three of Andrew Michael Hurley’s novels have gorgeous covers, and I think the one for Stephen Volk’s Dark Masters trilogy is outstanding. I do have a fondness for really simple covers though too and I adore the reissue cover for William Peter Blatty’s, Legion, it’s deceptively simple but I think, really beautiful.

THE BEST FILM POSTER OFF ALL TIME


A coin toss between Jaws and Alien. Both are perfect. Maybe Alien has the edge for me because of the tagline.

THE BEST BOOK / FILM I HAVE WRITTEN


I probably need to say the most recent one here, don’t I? I really don’t like looking back on past books, and if I’m forced to I only ever see the faults anyway, so I would always say whatever was newest. The Knock-Knock Man is a novel I’m hugely proud of though. It is exactly the book I wanted to write, and that’s not always the case. It had lived in my head for so long, I’m so happy to get it out and trap it on the page. That said, Bleeker Hill is also a novel I’m immensely proud of, and for much the same reason. They will probably both end up being my most divisive books, but so be it.


THE MOST UNDERRATED FILM OF ALL TIME

There’s a couple. I think that Werner Herzog’s remake of Nosferatu doesn’t get the credit it deserves. It’s stunning. I also adore Session 9, and think it deserves to be much better known than it is. It’s a beautiful, slow burn horror – my favourite kind – and genuinely scary. Plus it’s got Peter Mullan in it and he makes everything worth watching.



THE MOST UNDERRATED BOOK OF ALL TIME

Not so much underrated, but I think MG horror is often overlooked by some adults. One of the joys of working in a children’s bookshop is that I’ve really had my eyes opened to how many fantastic MG horror books there are out there at the moment – Lockwood & Co, The Aveline Jones series and Monsters of Rookhaven, are up amongst the best books I’ve read in a long time. There’s so much talent and imagination at work in that world. Also, it would be hard to say she’s underrated as she’s a bit of a legend, and maybe it’s just me, but I don’t hear enough people talking about Michelle Paver’s adult ghost stories – Thin Air and Dark Matter – and I think they are absolute masterpieces. She’s such a wonderful writer and a bit of a hero.

THE BOOK / FILM THAT SACRED ME THE MOST

No writer creates nightmares that get right to my horror sweet spot quite like Adam Nevill. He’s an absolute master of the genre, and is consistently good. Without question, Adam’s No One Gets Out Alive is the book that has unnerved me, freaked me out and generally horrified me the most. In a good way. Mostly. The first three quarters of the novel is relentless, suffocating, brutal and unforgiving. As a sustained exercise in terror, I’ve read nothing like it, and doubt I will again. It will never be comfort horror and, much like The Exorcist, I’m not sure I can go back there too often, and that is probably the biggest compliment I can pay.