As you’ll probably have gathered from previous reviews, I’m pretty well a confirmed Jasper Bark fan at this point. As such, when Quiet Places crossed the Gingernuts review list, I couldn’t resist grabbing it, tottering to-do list be damned. I’d heard some strange murmurings about this one - ‘No sex! No violence! Literary horror!’ - and I was very curious to see how this would play out, especially as the early press also indicated the story formed part of the Heresy series story cycle, a mythology that’s been far from bloodless so far in the Bark catalogue.
 
Well, and okay, let’s address that first - yes, it’s fair to say this novella isn’t splatterpunk horror in the vein of, say, the gloriously deranged Stuck On You and other prime cuts collection. That said, there’s always been (a lot) more to Bark than a willingness to ‘go there’, and all the other qualities I’ve come to expect and enjoy are present and correct.
 
Example? Achingly real characterisation. A central thread of the story involves a love story between Sally, our lead, and David, the Laird of Dunballan. It’s a relationship that evokes some past Bark stories - Bed of Crimson Joy in particular - but it’s far from a simple retread. The two characters are fascinating portraits, and the way they interact has a ring of authenticity that is, quietly, rather brilliant.
 
Similarly, the setting of Dunballan is evoked with skill and care, the surface charms of an idyllic Scottish village subtlety underlaid with feelings of creeping claustrophobia and isolation. Similarly, there’s a lengthy story-within-a-story section in the grand tradition of Lovecraft, which traces in part the outline of the intriguing Heresy that has been a component of so much of Barks recent work, and it too is rich in a very different kind of atmosphere, evoking a past time and society with apparently effortless poise.
 
And then there is the horror.
 
I don’t want to give much away - ideally, really, not anything, the joy of discovery was big part of the pleasure of reading this tale, for me - but rest assured, while the lack of splatter is accurate, this one packs a punch as hard and as bleak as any of Bark’s past work, creating, by the end,  an existential hellscape to rival that of the last chapter of Jim Thompson’s The Getaway.
 
In conclusion, yes, Jasper Bark has done it again - delivered yet another slice of evocative, dark horror, peopled with flawed yet sympathetic, brilliantly realised characters, and with a black hearted mythology that feels set to grow and grow. And splatter fans, don’t let the lack of overt gore put you off picking this one up - it’s as chilling as anything Bark has so far produced.
 
KP
3/10/17

Well, this is a nasty little number.

From Comet Press comes Red Room, a brand new extreme horror and dark crime magazine.
While I only occasionally enjoy extreme fiction, the combination of hardcore horror and crime fiction promised by Red Room had me intrigued. Crime fiction makes me think of more “serious” work that contrasts with what I consider typical of the extreme horror genre, so I had high hopes for the stories and articles in this collection.

I was not disappointed.

Red Room’s debut contains exciting, surprising features and tales that make me optimistic about the journal’s future. I must admit to being unfamiliar with many of the names contained within, but I was excited by the fact that Jack Ketchum had a story, and that David L Tamarin had interviewed a notorious cop-turned-fiction-writer who was once accused, and subsequently cleared, of taking part in grisly kidnappings.

Rather than describing each article and story, I will leave you to discover them yourself and just mention those that were, for me, Red Room #1’s highlights.
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The magazine opens with Nick Manzolillo’s excellent and disturbing tale The Phantom Video Stream. This uneasy story is about a man who discovers a secret sub-section of Netflix which offers no explanation as to its contents, and which is not referenced anywhere online. The seedy and unsettling tone of this one had me wondering how far it was going to go, and its conclusion left me grimly satisfied.

Tom Barlow’s Selfie was the first of Red Room’s crime fiction tales, and I loved its rapid pace and lively style. After being conned out of his father’s life insurance policy, our protagonist Mike has no way to pay for his sister’s ongoing chemo treatment. However, lucky for Mike, he’s just learned that he has an identical twin brother who has no knowledge of Mike’s existence. His plan is ruthless and cunning – but not without its drawbacks.

Jack Ketchum’s Megan’s Law is a thoroughly distressing piece of work, and is told with the author’s customary eloquence and unflinching style. Brace yourself before reading this one.

The last I will mention is David L Tamarin’s aforementioned interview with Gil Valle, an ex-police officer who was arrested by the FBI and charged with conspiracy to commit kidnapping. The main evidence used against him was his use of a dark fetish/fantasy website where he discussed graphic sexual scenarios involving kidnap and cannibalism. The interview offers a glimpse into Valle’s mind, as well as the shocking events that took place after he was acquitted of all charges. It is followed by an excerpt from Valle’s upcoming novel.

As well as other distasteful and thoroughly enjoyable stories, there is also an enjoyable feature on Video Nasties.

Red Room is a tasty treat for anyone who likes fiction and features that leave a bad taste in the mouth.
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Recommended for fellow sick little monkeys.

There will be Blood
 
“Bleed” by Ed Kurtz is the second book of his that I’ve read. My first introduction to his writing was the wonderful “The Rib from which I Remake the World”; a dark novel that had this fantastically Bradbury tinged flavour running through it. By comparison, “Bleed” is an altogether different type of beast. Whereas the former felt like a dark fairytale about loss and redemption, “Bleed” is a brutal and bloody nightmare of madness, lust and obsession reminiscent of late 80s horror writing and, in particular, Clive Barker.
 
The novel is centred on Walt Blackmore and his fixation with a small red stain. Walt has recently relocated to the country and is determined to create his own little slice of rural bliss with his fiancée, Amanda. Unfortunately for Walt, the dilapidated property in his possession has a dark and troublesome history that will have far reaching consequences on the present, turning his heaven into hell. Initially resistant to Walt’s attempts to cleanse it, the stain’s true nature is exposed and Walt falls into a whirlpool of madness, betrayal and murder.
 
“Bleed” feels somewhat lean in places but the real meat of the novel is the dark and brutal tone of it. The book does feel like it is cut from the same cloth as horror books that I read in the late 80s, mainly those clubbed together under the sometimes erroneous “splatterpunk” moniker. I mentioned Barker earlier and his influence can be felt throughout but “Bleed” is an altogether harsher experience. This is a book that more than lives up to its title as Walt succumbs to the stain’s insatiable appetite and in doing so, sacrifices all connection to humanity. Bones are cracked, marrow is slurped and blood is copiously spattered across the page as Walt lures people into the clutches of the ravening beast within.  
 
I have to admit that when I initially finished “Bleed” I was a bit ambivalent towards it. It’s definitely one of the more brutal novels that I’ve read recently but I felt that Walt felt somewhat sketched in and vaguely defined as a person. You are never really sure who he is and this is demonstrated when he inexplicably seems to change personality within the space of a few pages. It’s a very jarring moment that completely threw me but in retrospect the ambiguity surrounding him is kind of the point; Walt feels like a predator in disguise, a wolf in sheep’s clothing who wears his disposable humanity like a mask waiting to be shed. In “Bleed”, the sins of the past haunt the present and appearances can be very, very deceptive.
 
“Bleed” is a novel that gets under your skin and wears its influences well. It does feel almost like an American Hellraiser at times but that’s not to denigrate the quality of Kurtz’s writing, far from it. “Bleed” is a stark, brutal and unpredictable slice of extreme horror where the demons that lurk within can be ravenous and all consuming.

When Walt Blackmore moves into an old Gablefront house on the outskirts of a small town, things are really looking up for him—he has an adoring girlfriend, a new job, and an altogether bright future. But Walt's destiny is irreparably changed when a dark red spot appears on the ceiling in the hallway. Bit by bit the spot grows, first into a dripping blood stain and eventually into a grotesque, muttering creature.
As the creature thrives, Walt finds himself more and more interested in fostering its well-being. At first he only feeds it stray animals, but this soon fails to satisfy the monster's ghastly needs. It is gradually becoming something more, and for that to happen it requires human blood and human flesh. And once Walt has crossed the line from curiosity to murder, there is no going back.

Spungunion: (pronounced: Spun-Gun-Yun) noun; 1.) a dish made from rotting road kill, usually a skunk or a opossum. The more fragrant or maggoty, the better. 2.) Something that's been on the road for a long and unfortunate time...

This is the story of Deke Larch, a widowed trucker who has lost everything and is struggling to find his place in a world and the person who took it from him. That journey puts him in touch with strange characters and bizarre places. Deke had always felt like he operated on the fringe of society, but he really had no idea...his journey will teach him that monsters are interpretive and sometimes what we think we want is not what we seek at all.

Spungunion is a story about grief and loss, about lonely roads and lost souls, about failure to let go and falling when you finally do. It's about livin' and dyin' and how sometimes the difference between is very slight.
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“This trucker’s tale of bloody revenge and harrowing self-illumination takes place in the deepest, strangest veins of the Twilight Zone’s midnight highways. Boden rolls his supernatural mystery down the blacktop surface of the road to Hell, and you’re gonna love the journey into the fire.” – Philip Fracassi, author of Behold the Void, Fragile Dreams and Altar.

By Tony Jones 

Make sure you read our full and extensive interview with the Queen of American YA horror Amy Lukavics (by clicking here) , covering aspects of this, “The Ravenous”, her third fantastic horror novel in some detail. As the interview details I am a huge fan of both of Amy’s previous novels “Daughters Unto Devils” and “The Woman in the Walls” and Ginger Nuts of Horror is delighted to have given five star reviews to both books. 
 
Now onto novel three, “The Ravenous” with Lukavics doing what she does best, crafting a terrific horror story which has complex family issues beating at its dark heart. Family is the overpowering theme which interconnects her three novels and there is no better YA writer anywhere in merging the issues of everyday life, damaged teenagers with that of the supernatural. She smoothly integrates the darkness, without necessary explaining it, into a plot with characters we would really love to see fight to live another day. She might not be perfect, but you’ll also be rooting for Mona in no time at all.
 
“The Ravenous” is told from the point of view of fifteen year old Mona, the middle of five sisters, ranging from twelve to nineteen in age. The eldest, who has temper issues, acts as a surrogate parent to the others, as their real mother is an alcoholic who drinks her life away in her bedroom. Their father is in the military and is absent throughout the novel.
 
Pushing the supernatural aside the family dynamics of this gripping novel is superb. Mona drinks too much, has no friends except for a text message based relationship she uses as a crutch when life gets too much. At one stage she was much closer with another of the sisters but they drifted apart after an argument. The sisters behave impeccably in public, but behind the curtains their family is fractured and the only thing which truly unites them is their mutual love for the youngest sister Rose, whom they all dote upon.
 
However, tragedy strikes, and when their mother causes a drunken argument Rose is pushed backwards and falls into the deep basement. She tumbles to the bottom and breaks her neck, dying instantly. This was a truly horrific moment, when the Cane family realise their beloved sister is lying twisted at the bottom of the stairs with blood coming out of her ears. To say much more of the plot would spoil it, but in her madness the mother claims she can “Bring Rose back” and then disappears for a few days with the body, but soon she returns and she is not alone…
 
That’s the opening to what is a fantastic horror novel, although it’s a YA read, it really is not far away from being a fully-fledged adult novel. I read it just as I would adult horror and enjoyed it every bit as much. The character dynamics was superb, the angst was real as the girls dig themselves deeper into a hole, not to mention a few sequences of bone crunching violence instigated by the eldest sister who really seems to enjoy dishing out pain just a little too much.
 
I hope teens will be able to tap into the fractured and vulnerable psyches of the Cane sisters and the returned Rose who is a pitiful creation no matter how horrific she becomes. Most importantly the reader can still feel her humanity as much as she feels her own loss of it. Adult readers will rightfully think the plot is wrapped up both a bit too neatly and quickly, but I doubt a teen reader would notice. Another question an adult reader may ask is how many fifteen year olds really do have alcohol problems? It’s uncommon, but not impossible… That aside the book moves along at a hectic pace until its superb final page.
 
If you’ve never tried the Queen of YA Horror (can Ginger Nuts copyright that moniker?) or if you are seeking a great horror novel for a child of 12+ then look no further. Either this latest offering, or either of Amy’s previous books are all high quality choices.