William Blake’s ‘And did those feet in ancient time’ (aka ‘Jerusalem’) provides the title for this anthology which appears to follow a very loose ‘urban’ theme.

First up is Paul Finch’s ‘Tools of the Trade’. This is basically a different slant on the Jack the Ripper mythology, with a paranormal investigator discovering Jack’s ‘Tools of the Trade’ in an abandoned Hotel. He enlists a journalist friend to make the most of the discovery, though as we can imagine all is not what it seems. It’s well researched, which is really obvious as there’s a lot of it on the pages, there are many details that I knew, others I didn’t and the majority of which stretch the story out to the point where I was wondering if anything was actually going to happen. When it did I was relieved, but I didn’t think the ending quite fitted all I endured to get there. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good story, I just found it heavy going at times. Great to see the Ripper approached from a new angle though.

The second story, Cate Gardner’s ‘Fragments of a Broken Doll’ is a somewhat bizarre tale of a little girl called Trill; she lives in a house adjacent to a prison and soon encounters an escapee. What happens next is very much in keeping with this story’s overall weirdness and perfectly explains the relevance of the title. Strange, disjointed and fascinating, I was hanging onto every word.

Andrew Freudenberg’s The Cardiac Ordeal, in stark contrast to the previous tale, is a thoroughly plausible nightmare scenario for a young couple whose infant daughter is abducted. What follows are ransom requests which push the couple to the brink of insanity and then some, all of which is played out on the father’s perspective, and it’s all nasty stuff, culminating in a horrific although somewhat rushed twist. There are certain things left unresolved, the reason for which becomes clear and leaves the reader with the unspoken question only the reader can answer. “What would YOU do in that situation?”

Story number four is ‘The Lies We Tell’ by Charlotte Bond. Meet Cathy, she is a hard-working estate agent and mother who is very much in control of her life and those of her family whom she lies to and manipulates to make her life easier. Throughout the story she is in situations where she keeps hearing clicks, primarily ascribing these to the heating system she ignores them, until she continues to hear them wherever she is. When at home she finds constant deliveries of little folded pieces of paper with six-figure numbers on them, with each newly posted piece the number increases. Both the clicks and the pieces of paper prevent this story from being dull, as we know something is coming, but exactly what’s going to happen isn’t even hinted at until the dark fantasy denouement brings a fitting end to proceedings. I hope I never hear the clicks.

Angela Slatter’s ‘Our Lady of Wicker Bridge’ concerns the disappearance of social worker Hermione whose car was found burned out, but no body discovered. The second story in this anthology to feature a strange little girl, this one is every bit as creepy and the atmosphere layers on the sense of isolation and dread in this above average ghost story.

John Llewelyn Probert’s ‘The Church with Bleeding Windows’.  What’s that you say? “Every bleedin’ church has bleedin’ windows or they’d be too dark inside!” You’d be right. If you’re into body horror and Demons then this is the story for you. This is a complete change of pace, hitting the ground running with a bucket-load of gore as a small group of people attending a therapy meeting in a church are terrorised by something unholy. This is my favourite of the stories in this anthology as not only does it get to the action early on and sustain it, but it’s also gruesomely funny with an internal logic which pans out perfectly. It had me engrossed and in places laughing out loud at a story which is as disturbing as it is funny.

Following on from that we have ‘Sleeping Black’ which is, although well written, a somewhat basic ghost story harking back the olden times when little boys used to be sent into chimneys to clean them, and occasionally would get trapped and die there. Marie O’Regan doesn’t really take me anywhere in this story where I haven’t been before as right from the get-go it is predictable and never really gets into its stride, giving a much greater sense of the lady of the house’s proclivities than anything supernatural.

Gary Fry entertains next with a somewhat unorthodox tale of Witchcraft in ‘Satin Road’. A mildly rebellious youth called Dean is the target of resentment from classmates and faculty alike. The reason is merely that Dean likes Heavy Metal Music, Horror Movies, and the supernatural and has long hair. He also wears Heavy Metal band design T-Shirts which put him in violation of the school dress code. I can readily sympathise with Dean as when I was growing up I knew kids just like him, in fact I was one (except for the heavy metal stuff) and was singled out for a lot of abuse, so this story rings very true in the delivery and indeed intent of the bullied boy whose revenge is as bizarre as it is exacting.  The first-person POV gives weight to the story, and were it not for one aspect which reminded me perhaps a little too much of a creature from a classic horror movie I would give this story eleven out of ten. As it stands it’ll have to make do with a nine-point-five.

Non Standard Construction by Penny Jones is the story of a guy called James who is somewhat down on his luck and looking for new digs in London. After many want ads are scoured he eventually finds a place and secures his tenancy, which really is where things take a turn for the even worse. Any sympathy I felt for James was heightened when things started going wrong, but in all honesty I would say that this story doesn’t really maximize as much on horror as misery and there’s a lot of missed potential for a much greater story here. I think if anything it was a slow build up which didn’t really travel to a satisfactory ending and I could readily have read a much longer story which actually had something more to say among the supernatural line.

Gary McMahon’s ‘The Night Moves’ concerns Miles, a man obsessed with perfecting the titular ‘night moves’ a Martial Arts Kata which is seemingly impossible to attain Mastery of. Even his former teacher ‘Hoodoo’ hadn’t achieved it, which only makes Miles more determined. Nothing else matters in pursuit of his goal, one which promises the ultimate reward and comes with a twist as deep and dark as a black hole. There are many stories, some in this very anthology, which have a huge build up to a rapid payoff, and in most cases they seem like a let-down, yet the meandering of this tale serves to strengthen the ending as, were it to be any more spun out at the end, it would have a diluting effect which would ruin the concept. It’s perhaps the most ‘felt’ of the stories in this anthology, as if Gary McMahon has lived and breathed his character.
​
The last story is the almost ridiculously titled ‘/’dƷɅst/’, I say ‘almost’ as it’s a phonetic script translating as ‘Just’, which will make sense much later on in the story but even afterwards could probably seem pointless. I have a few problems with this story as I can’t see how or why Carole Johnstone’s routine ‘Police procedural’ belongs in a book of primarily urban supernatural scares. I think it highlights a difficulty the genre faces these days in that more and more books and TV detective shows are blurring the lines with ever more creative serial killers and ever more bizarre murders, even though what’s on offer here isn’t particularly effective in that way either. Where do we draw the line? Normally anthologies will attempt to finish on a high, y’know, leave the reader with something awesome so the parting memory of the book is a great one, but in this instance I think they goofed. I like to read stories which even if they are a little odd or rough around the edges are at least intelligible, but the constant use of Scots pronunciation here is off putting to the point where I have no desire to read any more of Carole Johnstone’s work for fear of even more characters sounding like Groundskeeper Willie in The Simpsons. Mangled linguistics aside I found the story was really more of an introduction to the life of the DCI than much to do with the serial killer or his victims. It could have been so much more, but became in my opinion the low point of the Anthology.
Overall, Great British Horror 2: Dark Satanic Mills is a great collection and well worth the effort. Who knows, maybe you’ll disagree with me in places or entirely. That’s your choice; all I can say for certain is that there’s bound to be something here to float your boat.
 

 
I’m friends with the editor, just to get that out of the way. That said, I paid for the hardback myself, and I’m only writing about it because I actually enjoyed it.
 
A Suggestion Of Ghosts has the subtitle ‘supernatural fiction by women 1854-1900’. Editor Mains has scoured obscure publications and library archives to assemble 15 ghost stories, the vast majority of which have never been reprinted since initial publication. It’s a fascinating premise, and certainly a worthy project. I have to confess that after picking it up, I did find myself wondering to what degree this collection would work, beyond the obvious and considerable value as a cultural artifact. Or to put it more bluntly; beyond the obvious and intrinsic value of the book as a window into a previously neglected world, would the book actually be any kind of fun to read?
 
I really should know better, by now. Mains has assembled and curated with exquisite care a collection that covers a huge range of styles, cultural backgrounds and themes. Sure there’s melodrama here, as you’d expect from the era, but there’s also pathos, meditations on faith, and on a couple of occasions (as mentioned in Linda Rucker’s tour de force of an introduction) actual honest-to-God Scooby Doo endings.
 
I think what struck me most were the characters - victorian women written by actual victorian women are a very different proposition to those written by victorian men, for the most part, as you might expect. There’s a huge variety here, even from within the considerable constraints that ‘respectability’ places on the characters and the authors, and that’s also reflected in the approaches - there’s some surprising use of present tense in a couple of tales, and one spiritual piece written entirely in dialect that’s just stunning, but emotionally and technically.
 
Some of the pieces display the trappings of their time in other ways - one, a piece written by a woman who ran a confederate hospital during the American civil war, is notable for both it’s brilliant evocation of location and it’s shockingly casual racism, while elsewhere, reputations are made and lost over the slightest social infraction. It’s also interesting how often the ghosts are benign, even benevolent, serving to either redress mistakes made while alive, or redress injustices wrought on later generations.
 
In short, while this is an important social document in it’s own right, bringing stories slipping into the mist of time back to life, and putting them before a modern audience (in a beautifully formatted and produced book, I must add), it is also a cracking collection of ghost stories that more than stands on its own merits. The women authors of this book are centre stage, speaking in their many different voices and from their many perspectives, and I was wowed.
 
Volume 2 is up for pre-order. Mine’s already paid for.
 
 
KP
29/6/18

​I love collections of short stories...and I especially love scary short stories.  They remind me of when I was a kid and my siblings and I would try and out-scare each other after dark with creepy tales.  Badlands by Alyson Faye is a collection of short stories and flash fiction pieces with lengths ranging from 100 to 1,000 words.  Most of the stories have some element of horror or creep to them.  I don't have much experience reading or writing works as short as flash fiction, but this collection was a flavorful introduction for me.
 
The stories I liked most within this collection were the ones that left me saying, "Whoa..." to myself upon completion.  These were the stories that actually made me pause and reflect upon the feeling of being creeped out.  I’m not easily creeped out, so when something makes me stop to think about it before moving on, I’m very pleased.  These are the stories where if you don't read them all (although I would advocate that you do), you have to read at least these pieces:  "Mother Love" (reminds me of post-mortem photos that were more common in the Victorian era), "Doll Man" (creepy...both creepy and sad), and "Belladonna" (a sweet revenge story).  "Visiting Mum," while not super-creepy, actually made me a bit apprehensive about getting old (I usually don’t think about it too much, myself).
 
Others tugged at my heartstrings, being full of some sort of longing or loss.  For me, these stories include "Each Other's World" (actually kind of zombie-esque), "Treasure Hunt" (essentially about a lost girl, very sad), and "The Last Walk" (starts off hopeful, ends tragically).
 
There were some stories that really did nothing for me.  Not to say that they weren't well-written or original...they simply didn't resonate with me or perhaps I didn't understand them enough to be moved by them.  These stories include "3D Audrey" and "Peacocks."
 
If you are a fan of flash fiction or short story anthologies, give this one a try.  You’ll probably find a story or two that you tell amongst friends at a campfire - maybe they’ll bring you up a notch in your group (if you’re like me and want to outperform the other storytellers in the group).
 
It would be a bonus if there were some really creepy black-and-white illustrations to really cement the creep into my brain.  Overall - well done, Alyson.
 
 
 

This was my first experience of reading the work of Dan Padavona.  I can assure you it will not be the last.

Quilt is a very dark tale of commitment and sense of duty, threaded with compassion and then sewn-- roughly at times-- to urban mythos and nightmarish legend.

Jadyn Werth is a promising student and athlete.  He made an impression on his teacher Annelise and she has made it her mission to save the boy from the suffocating tentacles of poverty and inner-city squalor.  She sees a light in the boy that she knows she can nurture.  Then he stops showing up for class.

She grills his friends and acquaintances and all they can offer is shrugging shoulders and ridiculous stories of the "Halloween Man." A gruesome being that snatches and kills those who wander in areas of the bad part of town they aren't supposed to.

Annelise decides to go in search of the boy herself, after not finding much in the way of support from her fellow teachers or the principal.  Her quest takes her to a part of town unfamiliar and terrifying, well before the real terrors start for her. Well, before she comes face to face with the stuff of legend.

Quilt is a fast read. Written well with an attention to detail and some stunning prose. I enjoyed the characters and the visuals conjured by the writing. If I had a criticism, it would be how it sort of felt rushed. Like it was threatening to be a longer sprawling mythos of a story. In fact, I feel that Padavona could easily sustain a series of dark tales set in this location and it would remain wholly believable.  If Candyman had been directed by Rob Zombie, it'd be in the ballpark of what you're going to read here. Only this is better.
​
Quilt is available through www.danpadavona.com  and at Amazon.

I became aware of Lutzke’s work thanks to his novella Of Foster Homes and Flies, which I thoroughly enjoyed, as my review of the time made clear, so when a review copy of his latest effort became available, I was eager to get my hands on it.

Stirring The Sheets concerns Emmett, a recent widower reconciled to his loss, who is employed as a mortician. The story focuses on his few remaining relationships - one young, hostile neighbor, one elderly, friendly one, and his co-worker/trainee - and his own internal thoughts and emotions, as he tires to navigate his life adrift from the anchor of his marriage.

All of the admirable qualities from Lutzke’s prior work is present and correct. The prose is eloquent but unfussy and plain spoken, and flows effortlessly, and the whole tale is infused with poigionancy. Emmett is also well drawn, and both his voice and internal misery are superbly realised. 

The story as a whole is a meditation on grief, and indeed Emmett’s grief is almost a character in it’s own right - a force that both haunts and controls his life, leading him to make decisions he knows are poor, and clouding his judgement. This particular personal hell will be well familiar to anyone who has experienced depression, I think, yet it goes remarkably underrepresented in fiction. Lutzke manages to express it well, giving insight into the mentality that allows (or do I mean compelles?) a person to commit acts they know are self harming. This aspect of the storytelling shows remarkable depth and maturity, and I found it to be very impressive.

The only element that didn’t really work for me was the opening. While I understand the attraction of a ‘grabby’, in media res style prologue, in the case of this story I felt it gave too much away, leading me to understand a large part of what was going to happen in the narrative some way ahead of the events themselves. That may have been the intention of the author, and of course reactions to it will differ as a matter of taste, but my own reaction was one of mild disappointment, as I felt it robbed some of the tension from the middle of the book.

That said, this is undoubtedly another impressive outing from Lutzke, with strong characterization, compulsively readable prose, and a raw empathetic heart. He remains an author to watch, and a refreshing and distinct voice in the horror field.

KP
29/5/18

The opening pages of “The Reverse” sees a couple of young men Omar and Joe being brutally murdered by some nasty Big Foot type of creature. So, if you’re looking for any type of suspense, or slow reveal of tension, you are not going to find it in this forgettable, repetitive, and incredibly long novel as the author lays his cards on the table in this opening chapter. Over the next pedestrian and very long novel there is much more of the same, with various characters, none of which you care about, being despatched by a killer creature. When this sort of horror is done well, you’ll think of Adam Nevill, Nick Cutter or Ronald Malfi, who can all transform an idea as simple as this into literary and scary horror novels. At the trashier end, and there’s nothing wrong with that, think Hunter Shea, Jason Parent, or Michael Patrick Hicks, three authors who write SHORT punchy solid genre which blow “The Reserve” out of the water and would do so in a third of the page count.
 
Chapter two introduces the major characters we’re going to spend the remainder of the novel with. Cooper is a university student visiting New York for the summer and staying with his brother Nick. Out of the blue Nick surprises Cooper by telling him he has landed him a big part in a b-movie horror film which is going to be filmed illegally on North Brother Island. This is an uninhabited bird sanctuary, located near Rikers Island, but still in close vicinity of NYC. As cash is short they will use the island location for natural sets including an abandoned hospital in recreating a post-apocalyptic setting. Before long they canoe over to the island and once the first member of the small firm crew disappears the fun begins. There really is not much more to say about the plot as the various characters are then mundanely despatched by the creature.
 
Interestingly enough, I discovered that North Brother Island is a genuine location, which really is a bird sanctuary, uninhabited by man. Situated right in the heart of New York, potentially, this could be a grand setting for a horror novel, but the author never really gives it a sense of time and place and the bland descriptions lacked atmosphere, detail and any sense of threat. Before long I could not care less about any of the characters and the appearance of the creature was so frequent I quickly tired of that also. A lot of the book is written in the first person “I” tense via Cooper, and this limited character development (there was none) and restricted what could be done with the other characters after the filming started to go bad.
 
By about 80% into the novel I really began to wonder whether there was anything more to this book than being a simple creature feature and eventually it did change direction. I guess this was supposed to be seen as a twist, but it did not work for me, and it remained ridiculous until the final page.
 
I notice Jordon Greene has reviewed his own book on Good Reads, not sure what I think of that, giving it five stars, noting “It's a creepy tale that's sure to rattle your nerves.” I disagree completely, it did not rattle my nerves, it just got on them. However, you are more than welcome to read it and make up your own mind. I review horror books all the time, both literary and trash, and this is one I would advise you to avoid.
 
Out of interest I went to the publisher Franklin/Kerr Press to double check this was not self-publishing in disguise. It says not, however, how any editor let this book pass at this length (Amazon says 332 pages, but it feels way longer) with such a flimsy story should get out of editing and find a new job. I also prayed my kindle way lying when it said seven hours of reading was remaining, sadly it was not.
 
This novel has the moniker “SOME PLACES WERE MEANT TO BE FORGOTTEN”. More likely it is this novel which will be quickly forgotten. Avoid.
 
Tony Jones