We’re always on the lookout for new talent in the YA horror world and Tina Callaghan’s fine debut novel “Dark Wood Dark Water” really caught our attention. Kids who enjoy dark fiction, aged 12+, will find much to enjoy in this unsettling tale which I sped through happily over a couple of evenings. The plot has a convincing balance of the supernatural, family/teen drama with an excellent sense of time and place. The brooding small town where the novel is set dominates proceedings and is an atmospheric backdrop for a skilfully told yarn of the uncanny perfect for enticing bored kids away from their mobile devices.
 
The town of Bailey is a place to avoid (thankfully it only exists in the imagination of the author!) and is almost portrayed as a character in itself. However, this Irish town has problems, big problems. Something evil has a weird long-standing hold over the town, people die (often drowning) and nobody seems to truly notice or care and they are quickly forgotten until the next death. This evil presence is skilfully and believably portrayed, and the uncanny fog which has a stranglehold over the town is a key component in the success of the novel.
 
One of the opening sequences illustrates perfectly how the weird phenomena operates; a young man stands at the river edge and is initially thinking of how much he is looking forward to returning to university and escaping Bailey once again. But out of the blue a powerful compulsion to move closer to the river edge, thinking that the water just looks so perfect, comes over him. Before you know it, he jumps and Bailey has another unexplained death on its hands.  Every family in this town has its tragedies.
 
The three main characters are older teens old teenagers whom have all lost someone close to them. Kate and Gabe have been best friends for years, with Josh joining the trio after he saves Kate when she is pushed into river and almost drowns. Josh is instantly attracted to Kate and together the three begin to look more closely into the mystery and its possible origins. But the deeper they dig, the more likely it is that the evil will turn its force in their direction. 
 
There is also a strong historical element to the novel which introduces the origins of the evil which shrouds the town, much of which is effectively told through dream sequences. However, put yourself in the head of a young teen, and I did wonder how engaged they would be with these ‘Old Ireland’ sequences. They meandered somewhat and I am also not sure how impressed they will be by the origins of the curse which controls Bailey. It’s no Pennywise and as a ‘Big Bad’ I have seen a lot scarier, even in children’s books. If the projected sequel does materialise then I think the evil needs to be more defined and, well, eviler, if that makes any sense. It’s all relatively ‘PG’ level and lots of twelve-year-old kids will have read a lot nastier, but on the other hand it is a safe read and suitably for any kid in secondary school.
 
“Dark Wood Dark Water” is greatly enhanced by a full range of support characters who either enable the evil or are influenced by it, and drift in and out of the novel. This helps develop a fuller picture of the town of Bailey and takes the heat from the three main characters. It also gives the author to build effective supernatural set-pieces with smaller characters, such as a boy who strangles to death a girl he walks home with after a party without ever realising why he did it, or another who pushes Kate in the river and has no clue why they did it. 
 
Tina Callaghan has a superb quote on the title page from Peadar Ó Guilín, author of “The Call” whom we have featured on Ginger Nuts several times: “’Dark Wood Dark Water’ is the sort of story Stephen King would have written if he'd grown up in Ireland -- a read-in-one-sitting, sleep-with-the-lights-on sort of book”. This is a good and accurate headline from Peader, however, perhaps he is also eluding to the fact there are a number of similarities to Stephen King’s “It”. Of course, your average young teen is not likely to notice, but the Big Bad in this novel is not a million miles away from Pennywise, and the Irish town of Bailey is controlled in a similar way to how Pennywise influences Derry. King uses the sewers in Derry, Callaghan uses the river in Bailey. These are merely observations through adult eyes and has no bearing on how a child will enjoy it. Callaghan is probably a Stephen King fan and wears her influences on her sleeve and there’s nothing wrong with that.
 
Like Peadar Ó Guilín “The Call” Callaghan convincingly blends in elements of Irish folklore, for instance, ‘fetches’ are doppelgänger shape-changer creatures which make several note-worthy appearances. Interestingly chilling occurrences can happen in the middle of the day, when lots of people are around, this only adds to the atmosphere and the danger the central characters find themselves in. After all, the river snakes its way around the town and so the threat is never way away. 
 
This was a convincing debut from an author who is one to watch. If you have a child around 11-14 who likes creepy books or are looking to buy a present for a friend’s child, or you dream of reducing the hours your child plays on online guff like “Fortnite” then “Dark Wood, Dark Water” may do the trick. An impressive, ambitious and entertaining debut.
 
Tony Jones

There is nothing more rewarding than beginning a new book, with minimal foreknowledge of its plot, and then realising within ten pages that it is a complete winner. Bartholomew Bennett’s debut novella “The Paul Ones” knocks it out of the park, whilst leading the disorientated reader on a mesmerising slow dance into the murky world of book selling which was enjoyable on a couple of different levels. Firstly, it’s a superb yarn which very, very slowly and subtlety builds up tension with an uneasy developing sense of the uncanny over 120-pages. Secondly, it’s a book about books (and I love those) and a treasure for bibliophiles as the author’s deep personal love for the printed word is conveyed through, the somewhat cynical, narrator.
 
At first glance you might think this novella is not about very much, but when you dig a little deeper, there is much to savour, puzzle and suck you into. “The Pale Ones” opens in a London charity shop when the narrator is tipped and winked to buy a crusty old book called ‘World War II Destroyers’ by a fellow book browser he calls ‘Harris’. The narrator is a buyer and seller of books, who trawls charity shops for bargains which he then resells online, and it’s an occupation he enjoys and there is money to be made. Harris is another bookseller whom the narrator believes to be more experienced and successful than himself. After grudgingly buying the war book which he later realises it is in fact worth up to £75, Harris is no fool, or so it seems. After a few drinks together, Harris offers the narrator a temporary partnership, to accompany him to Yorkshire on a book buying expedition. He promises him a sizable percentage of the profits and the first pick of the rarities they are sure to find. An offer not to be refused!     
 
Going back to his love of books…. The narrator adores sniffing out a bargain and mentions a number of titles along the way, and as someone who has bought, sold, or given away countless novels over the years I found myself searching my memory banks for whether I had ever owned ‘such and such’ a version of Malcolm Lowry’s ‘Under the Volcano’ or whether I had unwittingly ever given away a novel which was worth a small fortune, probably... Moving away from horror for a moment, if you’re a big reader you’re going to have a lot of fun with “The Pale Ones”. In the forward Bartholomew Bennett says he bought and sold books for many years, so he really knows the game and it really shines through, adding a weird level of authenticity to the novella.
 
Horror legend Ramsey Campbell, also a well-known bibliophile, wrote the bi-line for the cover so he probably agrees with some of my comments above, writing: “A real addition to the literature of the uncanny and an impressive debut”. Ramsey nails it, for most of the novella the reader was unsure which shape the supernatural element was going to take, but you just know it’s coming. Campbell has written fiction with a very similar style himself, and not so long ago wrote a novella about books in “The Booking” and has produced many novels where the supernatural element in a story is playfully teased out very slowly, like with this 120-page novella which fits superbly well into the area of ‘quiet horror’ which has merited considerable discussion recently. 
 
Harris takes our narrator on a merry dance of drinking, buying, selling and meeting strangers and weirdos in decrepit areas of the north east of England. The carrot is the narrator discovering that rare first edition, or valuable illustrated reprint, which always seems to be out of reach. Of course, we are reading the account of the narrator, written in the first person, so perhaps we can’t trust his opinion 100% either as he has his own fair share of personal problems. Their journey is a bizarre one, and the bulk of the novella concerns this unsettling odyssey to buy books nobody else seems to want or would happily give away for free. The narrator trying to get a genuine handle of what Harris is up to is a real treat and also darkly comical.  
 
The narrator is unintentionally funny, which is great writing, and I found myself sniggering as he gets landed with more and more crap books, not a Malcolm Lowry in sight, as he vents to Harris: “I didn’t take you all that way to increase my holdings in Clive fucking Cussler and Danielle Steele.” Neither is the narrator particularly likable, but he is so skilfully written that does not matter a jot. Overall though it’s quite hard to put my finger on why I thought “The Pale Ones” was so good; it was probably a combination of many things, an expertly paced plot, their expressive descriptions of their journey (and the books), not to mention the odd balls they meet along the way. But I suppose the overriding strength was the way in which the two characters bounced off each other. The narrator really does not like Harris, but in his revulsion, is still drawn to him in an unpleasant way. How can you describe him: you want to look away, but you keep your eyes trained on him anyway.
 
“The Pale Ones” is part of a new series of literary novellas published by Inkandescent, as far as I am aware this is the only horror release thus far but considering the high quality of this I really hope they have more in the pipeline. In a recent correspondence publisher Justin David hinted that Bartholomew Bennett was working on a follow-up of some sort. Let’s hope so, this was a highly impressive debut which deserves to make waves in both literary and genre circles.
 
Tony Jones

 
If you read this outstanding novella, you will NEVER EVER catch the wrong bus again!
 
James R Grabinski's “Edge of the Known Bus Line” was an unexpected joy which I wholeheartedly recommend to those of you wishing to discover a longish novella which is a genuine 100% one-off. I can also just about guarantee you will love this off-beat tale as much as myself! Initially though, I cursed Grabinski and his publisher for sending a PDF instead of a MOBI, but not letting that dampen my spirits I was quickly absorbed by the sass and spirit of the nameless female narrator who unwittingly and unluckily gets stuck in a shanty town which is impossible to escape from.
 
I would not necessarily call this horror, more a weird mix of (almost) dystopia, black comedy, Ray Bradbury, and a large sprinkling of JG Ballard. The latter because the most obvious comparison and point of reference to this highly original work I could think of was Ballard’s “The Concrete Island” about a guy who gets stuck in the middle of a massive traffic island. This book was way funnier than the Ballard though and really deserves to find an audience.
 
It’s quite difficult to explain what it’s about, but I’ll try my best… The unnamed female narrator works in a deli and is on her daily bus to work. This is the same bus she gets every day, sharing it with familar other daily commuters. One day she notices the bus has a different sign on it with “Out of Service” written on the front, presuming this is a mistake she unwisely ignores it. After a while the bus takes a slightly different route and when there are only a few passengers remaining on board it goes through a tunnel and everyone realises they have no idea where they are. The bus driver then, at gun point, dumps the passengers in the middle of this remote shanty town, “End of the Line” says the driver. One passenger tries to re-enter the bus and is shot and killed by the driver. We soon find out this dump of a location is called “End of the Line”.
 
Once they are off the bus the narrator looks around and is horrified by what she sees. Most people are starving, the kids are naked, and in no time at all her fellow passengers are robbed of all their belongings and most of their clothes. She is soon told that to survive she’ll have to join a gang and quickly realises there is no way of leaving this shanty town. She gives permanent nicknames to all the characters featured, including “Tarp Woman” and “Condom Eye” who give her some hints and tips on how to survive in the soul-destroying place. Ultimately this very funny novella is about the narrator trying to escape the shanty town, whilst at the same time trying to figure out how to survive in it. She also made me think of the Patrick McGoohan character in the 1960s cult series “The Prisoner” who spends every episode of the show plotting to escape, and who is also nameless.
 
As luck would have it her real job working in a deli saves her, as she is skilled with a knife and gets a job working for one of the bigger gangs skinning rats, which is the most consistent feature of their diet. I loved the way she named everyone, a few included “Newspaper Guy” “Napping Woman” “Ass Staring Guy” and we never found out their real names. As she tries to escape and tries to get her head around the impossible bus system, “Bus Driver” “Other Driver” and Another Driver” are humorously added into the mix.
 
I don’t want to say too much more about what goes on except for the fact it is blackly funny with the author creates this weird world with all sorts of crazy rules people follow to survive. Expect routine cannibalism, a prophet who sits on a toilet seat for a throne, hallucinogenic spiders, worshipping of baseball memorabilia, and the dream of the “miracle bus” with Chicago the ultimate destination.
 
Combine the unique voice of the narrator and a brilliant setting the final product is a genuinely original piece of fiction which impressed me greatly. What was our narrator’s major strength? HOPE!!!! She never gave up trying to survive or escape…. Amusingly, she saw her bra as her final sign of humanity and did everything possible to hold onto it when all her other personal belongings had been pilfered.
 
Did I say her name was never revealed? Ah well, make sure you hang in to the end, I might be lying….
 
Highly recommended. The spirit of Ballard lives on and we’re all the better for it. I loved it.  If Ginger Nuts of Horror rated books this gets 6/5.
 
Tony Jones

If you’re like me, then you are a Nineties kid raised on TV and Nintendo. And if you’re really like me, then you probably stayed home on Saturday nights and watched shows like Are You Afraid of the Dark? Remember that show? Where a group of kids sat around a campfire and told scary stories. Some of the stories were great(I’m looking at you clown with no nose) and some of the stories weren’t(basement that granted wishes). Well, Dale Robertson’s The House That Jack Built is sorta like that show, except instead of campfire the characters are sitting in a pentagram trying to summon Old Man Jack. It’s a great concept for a book, but unfortunately there is something lacking in its execution.

We are introduced to Sebastian(Seb), Tommy, and Regan, three school kids that have made plans to check out the urban legend of Old Man Jack. Apparently, if you go into the creepy house in the middle of the woods, light some candles and tell scary stories you’ll entice Old Man Jack out of his hiding place. It’s a rite of passage for the kids in town, usually bringing back some junk from the place to prove you actually did it. All of the rumors about the house and Old Man Jack stemmed from Tommy and Seb, yet the two have never been there. So when their friend Regan points out this fact and guilts them into going, they have no excuses. This is a perfect setup for a wraparound story to showcase some short stories.

Tommy and Seb are decent characters to follow into the house. They are both all talk when it comes to sneaking in, doing their best to hide their fear from the others, especially a girl. Which leads us to shady Regan. She could be an awesome character, but instead she comes off like a child doing a terrible job hiding a secret. I’m all for having a character with ulterior motives, but either have the other characters notice this or give us something unexpected. It takes away a bit of the suspense when you know that Regan is not going to be a good person.

I think each of the three stories has their moments. Out of the three, Regan’s is probably the best. Seb’s story is about an old man that discovers he can gain his youth back by drinking the blood of children. Tommy’s story is about an app that not only allows you to order delivery, it also has a function that allows you to order prostitutes. I like the twist on vampirism involving old people, and the app story is cool concept. It’s definitely the most gory of the three, which can be fun, but stays away from the more interesting aspect of story: the company that is behind the app. I’d like to see a longer version exploring how the company started, kidnapped people, and is able to get away with it. Regan’s story is about a mother and son that move to a town where the children are being brainwashed and controlled by a demon running a Sunday school. It feels like Regan’s story is Robertson’s favorite, the detail and pace of the story is well thought out and executed. 

The thing that I should point out is that these stories are not tied to the central plot of the book. There are no clues or messages that’ll lead you to a deeper understanding of Regan, Seb, or Tommy. I don’t know if tying the stories to the town or the characters would have improved the book, but I’m sure it would have connected us to them more. And it’s always fun looking at the story within the story for any hints at what might be happening in the real world(of the book).

After they tell their stories we get a somewhat hurried explanation of the truth behind Old Man Jack. It’s nothing you haven’t really heard before, and since we already know Regan has a secret, the reveal isn’t that shocking. I’m sure the ending would have had more of an impact if I was invested in the characters, but since I felt like I barely knew them, I wasn’t upset when the inevitable happens.
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Overall, I didn’t exactly hate this book. The concept is strong, it’d be a fun book to read around Halloween. But, it’s a mixed bag of what to focus on, the wrap-around and the stories compete with each other leaving you indifferent. It’s a quick read, which might be part of the reason why I feel the way I do. There isn’t a lot to distract you from the sections that didn’t work. I know some books feel like they have too much filler, but this is one that might have improved with more to flesh out the characters and the legend.

34 years after reading James Herbert’s seminal masterpiece “Rats” I find myself once again reading a novel about the pesky rodents we all love to hate. Herbert certainly raised the bar for visceral violence in his 1970s cult classic, but flash-forward forty odd years and the prolific American Hunter Shea finally turns his pen to rats. He was bound to eventually as this author really loves a creature-feature, everything from giant iguanas in “Jurassic Florida” to Nessie herself in “Loch Ness Revenge”. In 2019 we’ll probably see the giant iguanas fighting Nessie in a Hunter monster mash-up! So, Hunter Shea loves this type of trashy, fast-paced, cartoony horror, and to be fair he’s really good at it. This latest creature feature has just as much in common with the trashy b-movies of the 1950s as it does with the pulp horror of the 1970s, gleefully mixing it all up.
 
Like the majority of his output “Rattus New York” is undemanding fun, with sketchily drawn characters, and moves at such a lick you’re never going to get bored. It’s a quick read and so so easy to enjoy you will have to stop yourself from finishing it in one sitting (I read it in two). When it’s loaded with ridiculous scenes of scared and angry mums stomping masses of giant rats trying to chomp on their babies you’ll just keep on reading and before you know it the novella will be finished.    
 
The plot is a simple one of nature biting back at mankind. A scientist, Dr Randolph Finch, releases a new rodenticide, Degenesis which is supposed to sterilise rats and prevent them from breeding, making them easier to kill. Of course, something goes wrong with the formulae and the rats get bigger, harder to kill, and more dangerously, more intelligent. Some of these rats were so clever I thought one of the blasted critters was going to start playing the piano! The scientist Finch is actually just a supporting character in the novella, the main characters being a pair of city exterminators, the soon-to-be divorced Chris and Benita Jackson. This pair were top-notch leads and the comedy banter between them was great.
 
“Rattus New York” is seen from the point of view of exterminator Chris, who is still in love with his soon-to-be ex-wife. When out on a couple of local jobs they notice that groups of rats are both more aggressive and intelligent. Having been in the game for twenty years, they are startled to see rats using incredible guile to avoid traps and attack humans in packs. Before long a massive lair is discovered under Grand Central Station where millions of rats are hiding. And plotting! Quickly, the authorities realise what has happened to all the homeless people…. The fun is just about to start and Hunter Shea begins to move swiftly through the gears.
 
Chris and Benita were entertaining lead characters, with Chris reminding me slightly of the exterminator Vasiliy Fet in Chuck Hogan and Guillermo del Toro’s “Strain” trilogy and they really find their legs once the action heats up. The novella is littered with fast moving action sequences, mass attacks, blood baths, but never loses its sense of humour. It’s not deep or fancy and if you fancy switching your brain into neutral for some shlock horror look no further.
 
However, I did wonder whether Hunter Shea missed an opportunity to come up with something meatier than this final 112-page novella? I felt there could have more substantial set pieces and more battles and with the rat invasion taking place over a longer period. The potential of this story was so great I felt that a chance was missed to create something less formulaic. I really liked the way the novella closed, but again there could have been much more detail in the lead up to this conclusion which was a bit rushed. Perhaps more characters could have been involved resulting in a more challenging and involved work? Small quibbles. Either way, I’m also fine with this readably trashy horror which was good company for a couple of hours.
 
“Rattus New York” is the second instalment of a trilogy called “One Size Eats All”. The first book, “Jurassic Florida” came out earlier in the year and “The Devil’s Fingers” concludes the trilogy in October.
 
Tony Jones

Jeffrey Ford is one of the best writers working today.  There, I said that right out of the gate and I mean it.

I have yet to read anything from him that is anything but brilliant. Always brimming with rich characters and wonderful settings, great premises and wonderful dialogue. Often times a simmering cauldron of the dark fantastical with some historical sprinklings and more than enough creepiness. This book is no exception.

Ahab's Return, is a wonderfully paced novel wherein we meet George Harrow, a writer who toils for a rag known as The Gorgon's Mirror. He doesn't get to break the big stories or even write the want ads, he dreams up fallacy and legend and splices them together around tidbits of truth.  He's like the Weekly World News of the mid-1800's.

Harrow's world is turned upside down with the arrival of Ahab. The very captain from the famed novel, Moby Dick.  You see, Ishmael  wrote that work as fiction but it was in fact mostly true, before he quit his journalist job to become an addict.  Ahab survived his written demise  and has spent many years fighting his way back to find the wife and son who moved on after thinking him dead.  Now with that strict purpose of finding his long lost son and repairing a lifetime of damage wrought, he tries to integrate himself to these different times and attitudes.  With the help of Harrow and former crew members, Ahab fights for the soul of his son and himself in a world blacker than any he has known before. The belly of a whale was most likely brighter.

That alone would be premise enough but being this is  Ford novel, we get much more.  We get a cult of street urchins working under a barely human sorcerer to cleanse the city in horrific ways. We find mountains of Opium and we follow zombies and ghosts, hallucinations and mythical creatures and on top of it all, we have truths and lies bent to a point where they become mirror twins.  And all of it written in such a way that it's fun.  The historical and fictional mashing was truly inspired.

I greatly enjoyed it and cannot recommend it enough.
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Ahab's Return is available from William Morrow Books, an imprint of Harper Collins Publishing.

Sheila Shedd’s debut novel has the heights without the wuthering.

There are occasions when the brave amongst us try on different hats. Sheila Shedd is a brave freelance editor with a strong reputation, this is partly why I chose to read and review her debut novel Heart of Jet, I say partly because many years ago I reached a conclusion that editors must in some way be able to create better novels and short stories than the average writer on account of their particular skills. Since reaching that conclusion I have read several works written by editors which were for one reason or another totally disappointing. I’m happy to say that is not the case here, as although there is one issue I would consider a big negative the rest of Heart of Jet makes for an impressive debut.

Another reason I chose to read it is that it is an unusual mishmash, to my way of thinking at least, of Gothic supernatural/romance/historical adventure, all three genres sitting outside of my usual reading material and the Gothic supernatural aspect in particular is of interest to me. There have been quite a few supernatural stories doing the rounds which I found to be somewhat lacking, relying more on a horror component than more subtle machinations of supernatural occurrences. There is a very slight underplayed horror component at work here too, but one which is for the most part necessary as without it the basic story would have a much fluffier nature.

What I haven’t discussed yet is the elephant in the room, which is the big negative, so here goes:

The story concerns two young ladies at the turn of the last century, American socialites Caroline and Charlotte Grant, sisters whom upon receiving the last request of their Grandmother, travel from America to their ancestral home in Scotland, so far so good. The first port of call in England doesn’t exactly go according to plan, largely down to their naiveté of being strangers in a strange land. The basic idea is a good one, and so well-constructed as to be plausible, however this is where my first criticism begins, as the language used by the English people with whom the young ladies come into contact reminded me somewhat of Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins. This criticism continues when the ladies reach Scotland as Sheila Shedd has given every Scots character an accent as thick as Scots Porridge Oats and equally salty, which, as with salty porridge, is an acquired taste. Whilst I can absolutely appreciate the desire for linguistic authenticity I found this to be more of a parody of the vernacular to the point of ridicule. I will point out for the sake of clarity that I have some Scots ancestry as my Mother was a descendant of the Clan Stewart, so although I’m English I had when younger been in the company of enough Scots to know that not all of them sound like Robert Burns addressing a haggis. It’s all somewhat jarring, but I persevered and was glad that I did.

Now, we go onward to the many positives of the story.

The underlying story is beautifully crafted, with very distinct personalities driving story forward along with the occasional idiosyncratic interjections of an omniscient narrator whose nature is somewhat inviting and gossipy. It’s a bold move which could quite easily have backfired but instead lends itself beautifully to the quirkiness of the tale. Caroline is the elder sister, slightly stern but still open to what she considers an adventure and an assertion of her independence. Charlotte is more of a free spirit and the two complement one-another perfectly as both believable and endearing characters.
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As with just about everything in fiction, especially that with a strong historical vibe, there are stereotypes, but the two main characters have a much more progressive outlook than many of their contemporaries, which fits well with the new century setting. Upon their arrival in Scotland we do get the stereotypical matriarchal housekeeper, gruff groundsman and strapping young sons, all of whom have key parts to play. There’s a lot of lead-up with the introduction of characters and settings which at first I thought to be non-essential filler, but the bigger picture at the end of the novel gives a much wider sense of importance to all of the previous events, as even the small details such as Caroline’s behaviour in a public house only serve to strengthen the credibility of the supernatural aspects.

Speaking of which, once the young ladies have spent (very little) time in their ancestral home, Caroline gets a visit from a rather unpleasant looking spectral form who guides her to find the eponymous Heart of Jet, which from its discovery onward has a marked effect on Caroline who takes it upon herself to put right a dreadful injustice from generations before.

At the risk of sounding somewhat sexist I believe I am not the intended audience for this book, as with the lengthy costuming descriptions and bodice ripping passion displayed herein I can only assume this would appeal wholeheartedly to ladies who like their romance intimate, dark and brooding. This is not to say that it got in the way of what was overall a chilling supernatural drama, if anything it made the whole experience richer as it gave much clearer understanding of the personalities involved.

The mishmash of Gothic supernatural, rather descriptive romance and adventure is a strange enough combination. Adding an almost comic undertone via author intrusion may seem to be over egging the pudding but it isn’t the case, as in all honesty I enjoyed Heart of Jet and I’m assuming that although the ending wasn’t as I expected, there could someday be a sequel as this is Sheila’s debut and with the start as good as this it would be a shame were she to be a one hit wonder. She is clearly a woman in love with language and knows how to use it to great effect.
The book is available on Amazon:

Sheila Shedd can be contacted here for her creative/editorial services:

This was a beautifully written book and pretty much from the start I was taken in by the description of the environment. I thought it was a brilliant decision to place the story onto this bleak, cold landscape as I felt it perfectly reflected the nature and mood of the narrative.

This book is a perfect example of why I need to rectify the blind spot that has largely existed in my reading habits when it comes to crime novels. It’s a genre I’ve always felt drawn to but for some reason don’t actually come to as often. I think one of the strengths of narratives of this type (and this book in particular) is how much the human condition can come through and how the depth of the characters is put so emotionally on display.

As a parent, I responded deeply to this story, the tragedy of a young child killed (Alice), her best friend (Paige) bearing witness and the main character of the book (Tom), left to care for his granddaughter, protect her from elements of the town that would do her harm as well as what he can to help her heal. It’s a situation that has great potential for conflict and it’s all used to perfection.
The emotional conquests against Paige seem to come on multiple fronts as, in addition to the expected trauma, she becomes of greater interest to Alice’s parents. For whatever reason, they have concluded that Paige knows more than she has been telling and will go to any lengths to get her cooperation. What I liked about this point was how, on one hand their behavior comes off as unreasonable and hostile, you also feel a touch of sympathy for them. They have lost a child, after all. This, I think is an essential element of all great fiction. You don’t necessarily have characters that are absolutely good and absolutely evil. All we have are characters doing the best they can to live through the struggles which have been thrust upon them.

And as the story progresses, the escalation of situations that Tom keeps getting pulled in to serves wonderfully to heighten the tension of the story. It reminded me a bit of Scott Smith’s A Simple Plan in how, despite all efforts to correct his situation, things just keep getting worse and worse.

And it all builds up to an ending that, while it isn’t something we haven’t seen before necessarily, Triana executes it in a way that is effective, without taking it so far over the top that it seems gimmicky.

If I had any criticism, it would be that while Tom himself is a deep and interesting character, early in the book there are a number of points where he reflects on his disdain for the world today. Of his lack of understanding of the younger generation and their technology and phones and so forth. It isn’t a point of view that I’m necessarily unsympathetic to, it’s just that it’s a narrative I’ve become more and more tired of seeing. It’s the kind of thing I can get pretty much every day on Facebook or Twitter and as it doesn’t really add anything to the plot of the book, I found it to be a bit distracting.

You could make the argument that this disdain for the modern world serves to further isolate Tom as a character from the rest of his life. But I think that the circumstances of the story already accomplish this effectively enough without having to use any kind of enhancing device.

Also, as we find out early, Paige is living with Tom because her parents passed away, leaving her in her grandfather’s care. This puts Tom in the awkward position of having to act as a parent, an older man trying to figure out the unsteady ground of raising a young girl. This in my opinion would be a more effective way of highlighting Tom’s sense of aloneness. It’s germane to the story, incredibly emotional and personal and doesn’t have quite so much the feel of pop-culture-speak.

And just putting all cards fairly on the table, there are a number of typos in this that were a bit glaring. That being said however, I didn’t feel like these took away from the impact of the story or the beauty of the prose. I never felt like turning away  but they were there. I just think the story could have stood for another editing pass.
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In all, it’s an incredibly rich and entertaining book, one I read multiple times. It’s a quick journey and if you’re looking for a vivid distraction, an emotional and human story, look not further than right here.