 Reynolds deftly avoids many of the pitfalls and flaws of those writers, however, forging his own path with no-nonsense prose and characters to deliver a 21st-century pulp horror novel of an exceptionally high quality. Highly recommended; but only those with strong nerves and stomachs need apply. Dark and Lonely Water by Graeme Reynolds ASIN : B0BSVBRXSL Publisher : Crystal Lake Publishing (10 Mar. 2023) Language : English File size : 1091 KB A Horror Book Review by Kit Power Review note Since writing this review, recent events in the UK around Nicola Bulley might mean that this is a difficult read, as it concerns missing people, disgraced police divers and the waterways of the north of England. I need to start with a disclaimer; I’m very proud to consider Graeme Reynolds a friend. Additionally, his publishing company, Horrific Tales Publishing, put out my novella A Song For The End in 2020. So by all means, read the following with that in mind, but also be aware that my usual review policy remains in place; regardless of my connections to someone, I only review work that I a) finish and b) enjoy. My previous experience of Graeme’s work is his excellent High Moor werewolf trilogy, and specifically the audiobooks narrated by Chris Barnes, which as you’ll see from the linked reviews I thought was quite brilliant, so I was keen to get stuck into his new stand alone novel project. Dark and Lonely Water stars Sam, a single mother who is trying to juggle a demanding career in journalism with the responsibilities of parenthood. Reynolds does an excellent job with his character building, showing us via her daily routine the enormous pressures playing on Sam; her own nightmares, the continued emotional impact the loss of her husband has had on both her and her children, in different ways, and the sheer impossibility of trying to balance the needs of her job with the demands of her family. This isn’t primarily a novel of social commentary, but Reynolds does a superb job with the opening of the novel in portraying a slice of life that’s both everyday and extraordinary; Sam is not a perfect person, but the pressures she’s dealing with are simply beyond the strength of any single pair of shoulders to bare, and Reynolds delivers a touching yet entirely unsentimental portrayal of a woman struggling to survive on the ragged edge of day to day life. Sam is given a new assignment; a series of mysterious drownings that have happened near the area in which she grew up. Sam is unhappy about this assignment, but is given an ultimatum by her manipulative, uncaring boss: go and cover the story or lose your job. There’s a brilliant moment here where Reynolds uses Sam’s boss to deliver a key piece of information about her character. Seeing her reluctance to undertake the assignment, he points out to her that she is the ideal person to undertake it “given what happened to your mother “. It’s an absolutely brutal moment, but it’s also a great example of the skill of Reynolds as a storyteller; delivering in a single line character notes relating to both Sam and her boss, whilst also giving crucial information to the reader. Dark and Lonely Water is full of such moments. Having reluctantly taken the new assignment, Sam finds herself soon returning to the home of Uncle Marcus, the man who raised her as a child following the death of her mother. Her investigation soon also leads her into contact with Chris, a police diver who has recently been suspended from duties, and who claims to have seen something relating to the drownings that falls significantly outside of the official narrative. For the reader, there is no doubt that something unpleasant and supernatural is afoot; in the grand pulp horror traditions of James Herbert, Reynolds uses a series of intercut set piece horror scenes to depict the grisly murders of a parade of innocent victims. In this respect, the tension in the narrative comes not from a curiosity surrounding the nature of the attacks, but rather a creeping sense of dread as Sam and Chris are drawn into ever darker and more dangerous circumstances. Reynolds' great gift for drawing believable, flawed, yet sympathetic characters meant that as a reader I was heavily invested in the narrative from the beginning and felt a building sense of fear as the scale of what the two were facing became clearer. I don’t really want to go into any more detail; a large part of the joy of reading Dark and Lonely Water is the experience of the narrative unfolding in front of you. Reynolds is an assured and skilled storyteller; a master of pacing, characterisation, and narrative flow. He has a surefooted grasp of when to take a moment to pause, allow the characters to breathe and interact, and when to put the foot back down on the gas, And the final quarter of the novel is a relentlessly paced descent, as Reynolds pulls together all the threads of the story to deliver a shocking and twisted climax that I suspect will live long in my memory. Dark and Lonely Water is a slick read, but not an easy one; Reynolds is as serious about delivering his horror as he is realizing his characters, And, of course by creating such a level of investment in those characters, Reynolds knows the fear we will feel as they come into danger will be that much more acute. That said, this novel feels to me like a modern pulp classic in the proud tradition of past masters like Herbert and Hudson. Reynolds deftly avoids many of the pitfalls and flaws of those writers, however, forging his own path with no-nonsense prose and characters to deliver a 21st-century pulp horror novel of an exceptionally high quality. Highly recommended; but only those with strong nerves and stomachs need apply. KP 5/3/23 DARK AND LONELY WATER |
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