The novella starts with our main character Alex, finding a creepy old book bound in human skin with a face for a front cover.. Yeah most of us can predict what’s going to happen next. This doesn’t mean that this isn’t an amazing story, because it is. The main character Alex is very likeable, as are her interactions with the other characters. The characters all feel realish and feel like far more than horror tropes. I also like how Alex and her sister Jess are presented, especially in terms of their relationships with each other their boyfriend’s.

    The story is full of in jokes cult zombie film lovers will recognise as well as it’s own humour. The zombies are very much more Return of the Living Dead than The Walking Dead. A lot of the zombie tropes made famous by Evil Dead, Return of the Living Dead, Night of the Living Dead and Brain Dead as well as other tropes more generic to the zombie fiction genre. After all the best way to stop the undead is some macho hero with a shit load of guns isn’t it? Despite dealing with familiar concepts and plots, Rubas manages to combine them in a way that feels unique rather than just regurgitated. I think this is because the entire story feels very much like young adult fiction. Alex is sixteen, and her sister and their boyfriends are a similar age. The story is told in 1st person by Alex and focuses on her very teenage life. If it wasn’t for the odd swear word, comment and more realistic romantic relationships I’d have said it was young adult fiction.

‘‘Hey, short shit, how’s the weather down there?’’ Bella never said to Edward, nor Juliet to Romeo but Alex does to Tim in the banter they share throughout the story.


     Because the story is written like young adult fiction, whereas in the referenced films everybody or most people die, Rubas made Langston’s martial art campaign against the undead successful and cooler. That’s just one example but I won’t spoil it for you by telling you more.

What didn’t I like about it?

More deaths and violence would have been nice. Sometimes it felt a bit too much like young adult fiction. I think it could have also been a longer zombie outbreak which would have been great fun.

More brains? Yes Please!


Why should I buy this book?

Well it is so far my favourite book that I have reviewed for Ginger Nuts of Horror. I loved pretty much everything about it but especially the humour and references to cult zombie films. Who doesn’t  want to play spot the reference? Buy a copy because it’s amazing!

(1) Trigger Warning

Please note this book contains two scenes of graphic animal deaths

Does your child draw pentagrams? Have you noticed the neighbours hanging their robes over the washing line? Worst of all, have they started listening to …. HEAVY METAL??

You may be experiencing a satanic panic. Worry not, our guest, Clay McLeod Chapman can diagnose this for you. Clay’s new novel, Whisper Down the Lane is both a homage to the horror of the 80s, and an exploration of how that decade's battle with truth, memory and Satan(!!) lives on today. His story riffs on the very real scandal at the McMartin Preschool, as well as the wider hysteria that led to people being sacked, vilified and even imprisoned based upon absolute bulls*t.

As you’ll hear, it’s a darker tale than I had imagined, but it’s also jam-packed with references, easter-eggs and allusions to the horror that made the decade. Along the way Clay talks to me about how the satanic panic never really went away, how it ties into our very modern sense of ‘truth’ and he tells me why he never wants his kids to read his stories. 

On my part, I tell him the world is ok and other unconscionably optimistic things!

Oh, and I’m convinced that Clay orchestrated Lil Nas X’s ’Satan Shoes’ to help him sell more copies. 

Listen to this excellent interview with Clay at Talking Scared Podcast 

https://www.buzzsprout.com/1322413/8241985

​Inspired by the McMartin preschool trials and the Satanic Panic of the ‘80s, the critically acclaimed author of The Remaking delivers another pulse pounding, true-crime-based horror novel.

Richard doesn’t have a past. For him, there is only the present: a new marriage to Tamara, a first chance at fatherhood to her son Elijah, and a quiet but pleasant life as an art teacher at Elijah’s elementary school in Danvers, Virginia. Then the body of a rabbit, ritualistically murdered, appears on the school grounds with a birthday card for Richard tucked beneath it. Richard doesn’t have a birthday—but Sean does . . .

Sean is a five-year-old boy who has just moved to Greenfield, Virginia, with his mother. Like most mothers of the 1980s, she’s worried about bills, childcare, putting food on the table . . . and an encroaching threat to American life that can take the face of anyone: a politician, a friendly neighbor, or even a teacher. When Sean’s school sends a letter to the parents revealing that Sean’s favorite teacher is under investigation, a white lie from Sean lights a fire that engulfs the entire nation—and Sean and his mother are left holding the match.

Now, thirty years later, someone is here to remind Richard that they remember what Sean did. And though Sean doesn’t exist anymore, someone needs to pay the price for his lies.

Tales of the Lost: Volume II is a collection of dark creative work: short fiction, poetry, and black and white artwork dedicated to the essential workers and victims of the Covid-19 pandemic. Editors Eugene Johnson (Where Nightmares Come From) and Steve Dillon (Things in the Well) set the dinner table with a potluck of eighteen entrees cooked up by established speculative genre scribes. All but four stories are original to the anthology, but the reprints include those from powerhouses Joe Hill and Neil Gaiman. Unlike some of the other Covid-linked collections released over the past year, the stories are free of even the tiniest jab of political soapboxing. There appears to be no fixed theme except that all of the pieces fall somewhere on the horror spectrum, ensuring there is something for every reader. Six of the offerings stood out for me in their originality, prose style, and impact.


Rock and metal music often hoard a lion’s share of tragic storylines in their lyrics, and the music of Our Tragic Heroine, the band on which Matthew R. Davis’ story is named, is no different. In one of the quieter horror pieces in the book, four members at the height of their band’s career gather in their guitarist’s dressing room to discuss news of a sudden tragedy, the death of their dark muse, a woman whose personal torments they used to fuel their most successful songs. In his biography, Davis reveals that he is a musician himself, and his inside knowledge works to his advantage, as the subtle details with which he imbues the tale ring true, rendering an engrossingly sad and heartfelt story of the darkness that exists behind a concert’s curtain.


Lisa Morton offers another compelling psychological portrait; “The Deals We Make” opens with “There’s a man who comes through my window at night. Sometimes he crawls into my bed. Sometimes he sleeps in a dresser drawer. I made a deal with him.” After learning of her aging, divorced mother’s medical diagnosis—vascular dementia— the unnamed narrator is instantly saddled with the weight of caring for her infirm parent until a fortuitous encounter with a mysterious figure offers her respite. Unfortunately, nothing that comes easy is ever really free. Sprinkled with Morton’s whip-smart prose, her story might be the best twist on the Faustian tale I’ve ever encountered.


Christina Sng’s poem “Little Lost Girl” is a creepily fun little ditty about a serial killer, a hostage, her daughter…and a question of which of the three is truly the most dangerous. “Lady of Styx” by Stephanie M. Wytovich is only four stanzas in length, but each of them drip with thickly dark imagery, like a hypnotist luring his patient into a trance. Perhaps the most delightfully disturbing of the eighteen pieces is John Palisano’s “The Revival of Stephen Tell,” a story akin to ingesting a powerful psychogenic drug that produces a nearly immediate effect, one that skirts the boundary of diving headlong into a bad trip in the very best way. Oscar and his wife Martha attend an unusual show: according to the latter, they have been invited to witness a magician die, then return from the dead. Oscar is dubious, but sure enough, when Stephen Tell first appears, the magician is bound to a metal frame and promises the audience “a glimpse into the great beyond.” What follows is one of the most strangely terrifying acts of body disarticulation that makes any sawing a woman in half act seem like child’s play.


Hands-down, my favorite in the collection was Tim Waggoner’s ghost story “Forever.” I returned to the tale after I finished the anthology because of its loveliness. A narrator returning to her hometown recalls a childhood friendship with an abused girl who found a way to escape her torment: she went missing and never returned. Though the narrator’s explanation to police in her youth was far from truthful, the adult she became questions the accuracy of what she actually witnessed, and it beckons her to investigate further.  Waggoner’s writing is melodious; his story, haunting. “There’s a light breeze blowing, and the leaves on the trees above us rustle softly, making a sound like a rushing river. I imagine I hear voices as well, whispering words that I can’t quite make out. These voices aren’t sinister, though. Their tone is soothing, comforting, a balm for the spirit.” “Forever” is the perfect opening number in a satisfying collection that serves not only to entertain the reader with a diverse selection of horror fiction and verse, but to benefit a worthy and relatable cause.

Tales Of The Lost Volume II: A Covid-19 Charity Anthology
Edited by Bram Stoker Award Winner Eugene Johnson and Steve Dillon


We lose many things during our time in this universe. From the moment we are born we start losing time, and loss becomes a part of our life from the beginning. We lose friends (both imaginary and real), loved ones, pets, and family. We gain stuff and lose stuff, from our socks to our money. We can lose our hope, sanity, passions, our mind, and perhaps even our soul! In the end when death finds us, we end up losing everything... Don't we?


Loss is part of who we are. We can't escape it. We learn from it, grow from it, and so much more. Some of the greatest stories ever forged come from loss. Within this book is some of those stories.


Featuring stories and poetry by an amazing lineup including:
Tim Waggoner * Lisa Morton * Neil Gaiman * Joe Hill * Heather Graham * Christopher Golden * Tim Lebbon * Christina Sng * Vince Liaguno * John Palisano * Kaaron Warren * Chris Mason * Greg Chapman * Tracy Cross * Stephanie W. Wytovich * Alexis Kirkpatrick * Ben Monroe * Lucy A. Snyder and Matthew R. Davis.


Edited by Bram Stoker Award Winner Eugene Johnson and Shirley Jackson award nominated author Steve Dillon. Coming in 2020 from Plaid Dragon Publishing in association with Things in The Well. With cover art by the brilliant Francois Vaillancourt, and interior art by the amazing Luke Spooner.


Money raised by the anthology will go to benefit the Save the Children Coronavirus response.

Anxiety about machines taking over our existence and eventually becoming the catalyst for our destruction as a species is not a new concept. However, it is one that seems to have been shoved to the back of the fear line in the last decade, the dark fiction genres instead overrun with zombies, serial killers, and spirit possessions. We’ve forgotten, it seems, that the scariest creatures are the ones we usher willingly into our own homes. Luckily, the authors of Murder and Machinery: Tales of Technological Terror and Mechanical Madness are here to remind us. In a potluck of dystopian, steampunk, and sci-fi-inspired horror, Murder and Machinery has something for every speculative fiction fan, especially those for whom creepiness is best served on cold metal, but six of the stories are particularly strong in both writing style and originality.

“#Selfie” is a haunting portrayal of a desperate woman whose cries for help go unnoticed in a social media-obsessed world. Linda Brucesmith’s story gradually builds in tension as the smallest details (a carefully chosen boning knife, a deliberate number of painkillers, a painstaking preparation of the protagonist’s appearance) methodically paint an ominosity that is soon pricked by the biting satire of her online followers’ reaction to a dreadful deed. In his “Fargan’s Termination,” author Paul Williams notes, “At least humans sometimes accepted the possibility of mistakes.” Here, a death row inmate in a futuristic prison ponders the drawbacks of living (and dying) in a world where machines, touted as being infallible and efficient, maintain every aspect of his existence and there is no room for error…or irony.

“Fatal Beasts” by Karen Bayly follows Gabriel Tambo, a man who came from humble beginnings but whose extraordinary talent for technology seems destined to balance the scales. When a wealthy benefactor commissions him to produce a blood filtering machine, he is successful, but when he is selected to be the device’s first user, he learns the true, nefarious intention for its creation. Kerilee S. Nickles’ closing tale, “The Screen in the Sky,” professes, “Modern technology really is a marvel…now, after years spent underneath its harsh gaze, no one mentioned it anymore.” Nickles’ tale of a pandemic-sickened world (one a bit too similar to that of 2021) centers on Claire, a former science teacher, and a massive birth-death statistical surveillance screen. In this new society, as interactions with other people continue to dwindle, Claire nearly forgets what it means to be human until a reminder is given and then heartlessly taken away.

The always engaging Chisto Healy’s entry in the line-up is a must read for anyone with an Alexa. In “A Little Kindness Goes a Long Way,” the appliances in Roger’s home appear to be conspiring to ruin his day, from a toaster on the fritz to the unpredictable shower sprays. Even his holographic home assistant Clarise seems on the brink of malfunctioning…or is it that this artificial intelligence is becoming more human? Humans can feel willful and underappreciated, but more importantly, they can learn to make choices in their own self-interest, and therein lies the terror. In collection editor Cameron Trost’s own entry, “Tenterhooks,” the narrator lives a quiet, solitary life in rural isolation until his friend from town appears spontaneously at his door. “They’ve found a use for us, you see. That’s why everyone’s vanishing one after the other. We’re not so worthless after all.” His mate’s report of what’s happening in town seems too horrific to be true, but as the story climaxes, the narrator comes to terms with a terrifying fate. Bonus points to Trost for composing the most delightfully satisfying ending I’ve read this season.

The machines the authors of Murder and Machinery feature are not those of faraway societies: they are the smart phones, surveillance systems, and home monitors on which we’ve become reliant. If it’s true that tech addiction has run amuck, then these writers deliver an intervention that might just scare a reader straight.

Review by  Rebecca Rowland

Lock the doors and switch the power off at the mains!

Tales of deadly machinery have long fascinated us, from Edgar Allan Poe’s classic pendulum to the Terminator films.

Murder and Machinery pays homage to this tradition, offering you gripping tales following this theme but set in different times and places, from colonial America and London during the First World War to dystopian futures on this planet and beyond. Never before has an anthology brought tales of science fiction and suspense together in such a terrifying way, showcasing the nightmarish imagination of authors who know how to play on the reader’s fears and who share those fears of uncontrollable machines, or perhaps even more frightening, of fellow humans mastering technology for their own evil purposes. A word of advice before you start. By all means, settle down in your living room and let this anthology of technological terror and mechanical madness enthral you, but first, you might want to lock your doors and switch the power off at the mains. Best keep it low-tech tonight. Trust me. I hope you have candles?