Book Review: Orphans of Wonderland by Greg F. Gifune

Orphans of Wonderland
Greg F. Gifune
JournalStone Publishing (July 27, 2018)
Reviewed by Andrew Byers

Originally published in 2015 by Samhain Publishing, Orphans of Wonderland was re-released by JournalStone in 2018. The protagonist of Orphans of Wonderland is Joel Walker, a journalist haunted by a dark history. Twenty years prior, he delved into the investigation of a ritual killing, a tale that captivated the masses during the Satanic hysteria of the 1980s. Walker’s pursuit of truth left him shattered, a victim of a nervous breakdown, forcing him into a reclusive, small-town existence. Joel’s life shifts when he receives word that one of his closest friends growing up has been murdered savagely and inexplicably. Reluctantly, as a favor to his friend’s daughter, Joal returns to his hometown and begins investigating. This forces Joel to confront the shadows of his past. It soon becomes clear that Joel’s friend was killed because of a set of unresolved and unexplained circumstances from their childhood. Was Joel’s friend really being haunted by dark, inhuman figures? What really happened to Joel and his friends when they were children? Has the past really come back to haunt them?

In Orphans of Wonderland, the past becomes an inescapable labyrinth, its secrets lurking beneath the surface, waiting to ensnare those who dare to revisit it. Gifune, a maestro of psychological horror, weaves a narrative that transcends the conventional boundaries of the genre, offering readers a haunting exploration of paranoia, madness, and the insidious nature of evil.

The characterization in Orphans of Wonderland is a testament to Gifune’s ability to craft nuanced, multi-dimensional characters. Joel Walker, a man tormented by the ghosts of his past, is a compelling protagonist. His internal struggles, shaped by the trauma of his earlier investigation and whatever happened to him as a child, add layers of complexity to his character. Gifune’s portrayal of Walker’s descent into the murkiness of his own memories is both haunting and evocative.

The atmosphere in Gifune’s novel is a palpable force—an oppressive darkness that pervades every page. Joel is surrounded by people who are either clueless, and thus either unhelpful or in danger themselves, or are actively inimical but holding the answers to the questions that Joel is asking. The backdrop of urban decay, laden with the weight of buried secrets, becomes a character in its own right, its quiet streets concealing horrors that refuse to remain dormant.

Pacing, a critical element in psychological horror, is meticulously calibrated in Orphans of Wonderland. Gifune manipulates the rhythm of the narrative, alternating between introspective moments of dread and explosive revelations. The gradual unfolding of the mystery creates an unsettling tension, holding readers captive until the final revelation.

As the narrative hurtles toward its climax, Gifune skillfully explores the interplay between paranoia, madness, and the nature of evil. Orphans of Wonderland becomes a harrowing exploration of the thin line that separates the rational from the irrational, the real from the imagined. The novel’s denouement is both chilling and satisfying, leaving lingering questions that resonate beyond the final page. While Gifune seems to write only stand-alone novels (as far as I know), I’d actually love to see him revisit this setting and characters. There’s more to be explored here, and, I think, connected up with some of his other novels, including God Machine.

Gifune has many strengths as a writer, but having read much of Gifune’s oeuvre, I want to highlight three that are common throughout his fiction that come together to shine in Orphans of Wonderland. First, Gifune writes groups of old friends very well. While it is easy for a writer to say that a group of characters grew up together and have known each other for decades, that’s very hard to pull off convincingly. Gifune does so with aplomb. Second, he is a master of describing gritty, hyper-realistic, almost noir-ish settings and lives—stories and settings that feel very real—and then injecting elements of supernatural horror in a way that does not unbalance or upset the very real places and people he is writing about. This is harder to do than it seems. Think about the classic horror movie that is ruined the first time that the camera pans over and the monster is revealed to the viewer. And third, Gifune writes a certain type of unreliable narrator extremely well. This can be done cheaply and to ill effect easily, but Gifune takes care to craft protagonists who learn about themselves, the world around them, and their own pasts at the time as the reader. Gifune doesn’t tell his stories via tricksters or liars, he lets his stories unfurl by having his protagonists conduct genuine investigations into their worlds, and when they learn that reality is not what they had imagined, they are as shocked and horrified as we are. We see strong evidence of all three strengths here in Orphans of Wonderland.

Greg F. Gifune’s Orphans of Wonderland transcends the trappings of conventional horror, offering readers a cerebral and atmospheric exploration of the darkness that resides within and without. This is not a tale of gratuitous scares but a haunting journey into the recesses of the human psyche and the evil than some do for power. For those seeking a psychologically rich and thought-provoking horror experience, Orphans of Wonderland offers a descent into the depths of the past that will linger in the reader’s mind long after the shadows dissipate. Definitely recommended.

This review originally appeared in Hellnotes.

Book Review: Children of Chaos by Greg F. Gifune

Children of Chaos
Greg F. Gifune
JournalStone Publishing (May 25, 2018)
Reviewed by Andrew Byers

In Greg F. Gifune’s Children of Chaos, the past becomes an inescapable specter, haunting the present with its sinister secrets and unrelenting grip. Gifune, a virtuoso of psychological horror, embarks on a mesmerizing journey that traverses the treacherous terrain of guilt, redemption, and the forces that compete for influence within the human soul.

The narrative unfolds against the backdrop of a torrential downpour, as three teenage best friends—Phil, Jamie, and Martin—stumble upon a mysterious stranger cloaked in scars, whose presence catalyzes a chain of violent events that will irrevocably alter their lives. Three decades later, haunted by the memories of that fateful encounter, the trio find themselves ensnared in the suffocating tendrils of their past. By that point, their lives have altered unimaginably from the boys they once were: Jamie has become a Catholic priest; Martin, the victim of severe mental illness, has disappeared somewhere in Mexico to found a frightening cult; and Phil, a divorced alcoholic, who has become a failure as a husband, father, writer, and friend, is called upon to journey to Mexico to find Martin and see if he can be brought back to receive the help that he needs and be reunited with his dying mother. Phil’s journey, both physical and spiritual, and what he finds in Mexico, forms the heart of the novel. It is disturbing and compelling and utterly savage. I enjoyed it immensely and appreciated that it hints at far more about the nature of reality than it explicitly states.

As the narrative unfurls, Gifune deftly explores the interplay between past traumas and present-day turmoil, weaving a tapestry of suspense and introspection. From the seedy streets of Tijuana to the desolate expanse of the Corridor of Demons, the journey becomes a visceral odyssey into the heart of darkness, where salvation hangs precariously in the balance.

Children of Chaos is, of course, Gifune’s take on Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, as he states in his final author’s note, with more than a little of the savage brutality and sheer amount of death from Apocalypse Now. Because this is a Gifune novel, it would likewise not be complete without the meditation on good and evil, and spirituality, free will, and destiny that we have come to expect from so much of Gifune’s work.

Gifune’s masterful storytelling prowess is on full display here. Phil in particular is a troubled soul whose life has not gone as planned. Deeply conflicted, he is torn between wanting to help a childhood friend and needing to preserve his own life and what little wellbeing he has left. We know less about Martin and Jamie, but both have important roles to play in what almost seems like a foreordained drama.

The atmospheric richness of Children of Chaos is a testament to Gifune’s narrative dexterity, as he conjures a world steeped in foreboding and menace. The desolate landscapes of both Tijuana and the Mexican desert serve as a haunting backdrop to the characters’ descent into madness and terror.

Pacing, a crucial element in psychological horror, is expertly calibrated in the novel. Each twist and turn of the plot unfolds with meticulous precision, ratcheting up the tension to a fever pitch as the characters hurtle towards their apparent destiny, an inexorable reckoning. The relentless momentum of the narrative ensures that readers are gripped by an unyielding sense of dread and foreboding for what’s to come.

Greg F. Gifune’s Children of Chaos is a tour de force that has not yet received the attention that it deserves. For aficionados of the genre seeking a gripping and immersive tale, Children of Chaos is an unmissable odyssey into the abyss—an electrifying descent into the heart of darkness that will linger in the reader’s mind long after the final page is turned.

Definitely recommended.

This review originally appeared in Hellnotes.

Book Review: Razored Land by Charles Allen Gramlich

Razored Land
Charles Allen Gramlich
Tule Frog Press (November 9, 2023)
Reviewed by Andrew Byers

In Charles Allen Gramlich’s riveting Razored Land, the world as we know it has been irrevocably altered by the cataclysmic aftermath of The Flux—an insidious genetic plague that has unleashed chaos and devastation on an unprecedented scale. Against this backdrop of desolation and despair, protagonist Jase Holland embarks on a perilous quest for survival and redemption, navigating a treacherous landscape teeming with monstrous mutations and malevolent forces.

Postapocalyptic thrillers used to be a genre unto themselves in the 1980s and 1990s but I don’t see as many new ones being written today. Gramlich has updated the hoary tropes of the 1980s’ fears of nuclear war with a post-pandemic catastrophe in which a mysterious illness rapidly sweeps across the world and warps and mingles the DNA of different species, most certainly including humans. Fast forward fifteen years and what is left of human civilization isn’t much: a few enclaves of humans who were immune to The Flux and the rest of the scarred landscape is inhabited by newly sentient animal species and half-human/half-animal monstrosities and mutants. If you remember the classic role-playing game Gamma World, I might even describe this book’s setting as Gamma World: The Beginning.

The book itself is composed of two novellas or short novels, the second of which picks up immediately following the action of the first half. Gramlich sets the stage for an electrifying narrative that pulsates with tension and intrigue from the very first page. As one of the few fully human survivors of The Flux, Jase Holland finds himself thrust into a nightmarish reality where the line between humanity and monstrosity has been blurred beyond recognition. With his pregnant fiancée Jenn missing and the world overrun by demonic entities known as the Vile, Jase’s journey becomes a harrowing odyssey of survival against insurmountable odds.

This is not just a novel of military action and gun porn, though Gramlich certainly knows how to write a great fight scene; the story is elevated by the presence of some very intriguing religious elements that hint at a possible supernatural presence that suggests the battle between Good and Evil might be more literal than most Razored Land’s inhabitants understand.

Gramlich’s skillful storytelling transports readers into a dystopian world fraught with peril and uncertainty. From the desolate wastelands of postapocalyptic Louisiana and Arkansas to the hidden sanctuaries of the Immunes and the Vile, the vividly rendered landscapes serve as a haunting backdrop to Jase’s desperate quest to find the woman he once loved.

At the heart of Razored Land lies a compelling exploration of the human condition in the face of overwhelming adversity. Jase Holland emerges as a resilient protagonist whose unwavering determination to find Jenn and their unborn child—who would now be a teenager—serves as a driving force amidst the chaos and carnage. His journey is a testament to the indomitable spirit of survival, as he grapples with the moral complexities of a world plunged into darkness.

The novel’s pacing is relentless, propelling readers forward with a relentless momentum that leaves them breathless with anticipation. From pulse-pounding action sequences to heart-wrenching moments of introspection, Razored Land delivers a rollercoaster ride of emotions that keeps audiences on the edge of their seats until the final, electrifying climax.

Charles Allen Gramlich’s Razored Land is a gripping tale of resilience, redemption, and the indomitable human spirit in the face of unimaginable adversity. With its immersive world-building, compelling characters, and pulse-pounding narrative, this postapocalyptic thriller is sure to captivate readers from start to finish. There are clearly many more stories that could be told in this intriguing postapocalyptic setting and I’d love to see Gramlich return to it. Very much recommended.

This review originally appeared in Hellnotes.

Book Review: Deep Night by Greg F. Gifune

Deep Night
Greg F. Gifune
JournalStone Publishing (July 13, 2018)
Reviewed by Andrew Byers

Originally published in 2006 as the second novel after Greg F. Gifune’s powerful debut The Bleeding SeasonDeep Night was re-released by JournalStone in 2018. It is as chilling and unsettling as The Bleeding Season, a highwater mark indeed. In Deep Night, the tale begins innocuously enough with a group of old friends vacationing in the remote woods of northern Maine. However, what unfolds is far from the idyllic getaway they envisioned. A chance encounter with a blood-stained woman introduces an ancient and malevolent presence, setting in motion a series of events that will irrevocably alter the course of their lives. The narrative seamlessly shifts between the initial time at the cabin and the haunting aftermath, a year later, where the characters grapple with their fragmented memories and an unrelenting evil that refuses to be forgotten.

Gifune’s narrative prowess is on full display as he navigates the temporal intricacies of the plot. The alternating timelines heighten suspense and allow readers to piece together the puzzle of that fateful night alongside the characters. This nuanced approach to storytelling elevates Deep Night beyond mere horror conventions, transforming it into a profound exploration of memory, trauma, and the unreliability of perception.

The characters, particularly Seth Roman and his brother Raymond, are intricately woven into the fabric of the narrative. Gifune deftly explores their vulnerabilities, fears, and the complex dynamics that bind them. Raymond’s childhood night terrors, an enigma that becomes a linchpin in the unfolding horror, add a layer of psychological depth to the narrative. As the characters grapple with their fragmented recollections, the line between reality and nightmare blurs, intensifying the narrative’s psychological impact.

The novel’s atmosphere is an entity unto itself, a palpable force that permeates every page. The desolate woods become a character in their own right, shrouded in an eerie silence that amplifies the sense of isolation and impending doom. Gifune’s evocative prose brings the chilling setting to life, immersing readers in an otherworldly realm where malevolence lurks in the shadows.

Pacing, a crucial element in any horror narrative, is meticulously handled in Deep Night. Gifune masterfully controls the ebb and flow of tension, allowing suspense to mount organically. The gradual escalation of fear mirrors the characters’ descent into an abyss of terror, creating an immersive experience that captivates readers without resorting to gratuitous shocks.

As the narrative hurtles toward its climax, the boundaries between the corporeal and the supernatural blur, and the characters find themselves ensnared in a malevolent force that defies comprehension. Deep Night becomes an exploration of the human soul, a harrowing journey into the darkest recesses of existence, where the quest for survival is intricately entwined with sacrificial love and unwavering faith.

Deep Night transcends the conventional tropes of horror, offering readers a nuanced and thought-provoking exploration of fear, memory, and the human spirit. This is not merely a tale of supernatural horror but a profound narrative that lingers, inviting readers to confront the shadows that lurk within the depths of their own psyches. For those seeking a horror experience that resonates on a psychological level, Deep Night is a haunting odyssey into the heart of darkness. Definitely recommended.

This review originally appeared in Hellnotes.

Book Review: Falls the Darkness by Mark N. Drake

Falls the Darkness
Mark N. Drake
January 30, 2024
Reviewed by Andrew Byers

Over the last few years, Mark N. Drake has created and extensively developed a fictional place, Darkisle, a foreboding island inhabited by Lovecraftian horrors and cultists, where he has set three previous novels, The Gathering Shadows, Those Under the Hill, and What Festers Within, as well as several short stories. Drake has returned to Darkisle with his fourth novel, Falls the Darkness, continuing the adventures of two-fisted 1920s-era detective Jack Glennison as he battles against various occultists and Mythos horrors. I had a lot of fun with this one, as I did the first three books in the series—it’s a terrific blend of Cthulhu Mythos lore with pulpy action and thoughtful investigation.

I don’t want to give too much away about the Mythos horrors that await Jack, but I will say that it takes as its foundation my favorite cosmic horror story: HPL’s “The Colour Out of Space.” ‘Nuff said. Here, Jack has been hired by his friend, the wealthy occultist Sir Charles Deverby, who we’ve met previously, to locate a missing employee. The employee was part of a team sent to a rural area of Darkisle to locate more pieces of a meteorite that has…odd properties. When Jack gets there, he finds plenty of intrigue among the remaining members of the team. Also, the locals don’t want him or the team nosing around in their affairs, and there is clearly something extremely dangerous inhabiting the heath where the meteorite fragments can be found. All the components of a great Lovecraft-inspired mystery are here.

Drake is a meticulously detailed plotter who I always trust to get the details right. Past reviews of Drake’s work have noted the clarity of his prose. Like all of its Darkisle predecessors, at no point does the plot of Falls the Darkness depend on characters doing stupid things or behaving irrationally; everyone here behaves sensibly and according to their own best interests. Glennison is a smart, methodical investigator. Drake plays it straight with the reader, which I very much appreciate: there is an actual mystery to be solved here, and Glennison systematically sets out to gather clues. He finds them, and the reader has access to all of them as he does so. When the resolution of the central mystery is presented at the end of the novel, you, the reader, had all the same clues that Glennison had access to. Drake’s writing is always satisfying and well-crafted.

Drake is very good at telegraphing the direction of his next Darkisle novels at the end of each book, and it seems that the next novel—one that I’m already anticipating—will finally return to the site of Jack’s university days where something terrible happened and exposed him to his first brush with cosmic horrors. I have been looking forward to learning more about that since it was first alluded to in Glennison’s inaugural outing, so I can’t wait to see how this next one turns out. Jack, his assistant Josine, and the host of secondary characters who surround them become more fully realized with each novel in the series. Though it may be trite to say, Darkisle itself is as much a character in the novel as anyone else. I now have a clearer sense of this benighted island than some real-world places I have visited!

Falls the Darkness is very much recommended, though if you’re new to Drake’s Darkisle, I suggest you start with the first in the series, The Gathering Shadows, as each novel really does build on everything that came before it.

This review originally appeared in Hellnotes.

You can purchase this book on Amazon HERE.

Weekly Horror Short Story Review Project – Year 6 in Review

I began this project on February 16, 2017 and it’s been going strong ever since. Over the course of the last six years, I’ve had the chance to read A LOT of and dark fiction short story collections and anthologies I might never have had a chance to read. I’ve read some phenomenal stories, some real stinkers, and a lot in between. I’m proud that I’ve been able to maintain a pace of reading and reviewing about four of these stories a week for six years. That’s a lot of stories. But all things must come to an end.

When you’re reviewing four stories a week, one from each of four books simultaneously, and doing this solidly for five years, you end up working your way through a lot of books. I have now completed reading and reviewing 68 story collections. Here’s the complete list:

  • Weeks 1-17: The Call of Cthulhu and Other Weird Stories, by H.P. Lovecraft, edited by S.T. Joshi (Penguin, 1999)
  • Weeks 1-55: The Dark Descent, edited by David G. Hartwell (Tor, 1987)
  • Weeks 1-18: The Bazaar of Bad Dreams, by Stephen King (Scribner, 2015)
  • Weeks 1-21: Black Wings of Cthulhu, edited by S.T. Joshi (Titan Books, 2010)
  • Weeks 18-29: The Thing on the Doorstep and Other Weird Stories, by H.P. Lovecraft, edited by S.T. Joshi (Penguin, 2001)
  • Weeks 19-33: Books of Blood, Volumes One to Three, by Clive Barker (Berkley, 1998)
  • Weeks 22-39: Black Wings of Cthulhu 2, edited by S.T. Joshi (Titan Books, 2012)
  • Weeks 30-50: The Dreams in the Witch House and Other Weird Stories, by H.P. Lovecraft, edited by S.T. Joshi (Penguin, 2004)
  • Weeks 34-47: Books of Blood, Volumes Four to Six, by Clive Barker (Sphere, 2007)
  • Weeks 40-56: Black Wings of Cthulhu 3, edited by S.T. Joshi (Titan Books, 2015)
  • Weeks 48-78: The Yellow Sign and Other Stories, by Robert W. Chambers (Chaosium, 2004)
  • Weeks 51-76: The Book of Cthulhu, edited by Ross E. Lockhart (Night Shade Books, 2011)
  • Weeks 56-91: Alone With the Horrors by Ramsey Campbell (Tor, 2004)
  • Weeks 57-74: Black Wings of Cthulhu 4, edited by S.T. Joshi (Titan Books, 2016)
  • Weeks 75-99: Mammoth Book of Cthulhu, edited by Paula Guran (Running Press, 2016)
  • Weeks 77-88: The Crawling Chaos and Others: The Annotated Revisions and Collaborations of H.P. Lovecraft, Vol. 1, edited by S.T. Joshi (Arcane Wisdom, 2012)
  • Weeks 79-89: The Hastur Cycle, Second Edition, edited by Robert M. Price (Chaosium, 1997)
  • Weeks 89-106: Medusa’s Coil and Others: The Annotated Revisions and Collaborations of H.P. Lovecraft, Vol. 2, edited by S.T. Joshi (Arcane Wisdom, 2012)
  • Weeks 90-114: The King in Yellow Tales, Volume 1, by Joseph S. Pulver, Sr. (Lovecraft eZine Press, 2015)
  • Weeks 92-95: Dark Feasts, by Ramsey Campbell (Robinson Publishing, 1987)
  • Weeks 96-106: Cold Print, by Ramsey Campbell (Tor Books, 1987)
  • Weeks 100-115: Madness on the Orient Express, edited by James Lowder (Chaosium, 2014)
  • Weeks 107-118: Demons by Daylight, by Ramsey Campbell (Carroll & Graf, 1990)
  • Weeks 107-126: A Mountain Walked: Great Tales of the Cthulhu Mythos, edited by S.T. Joshi (Dark Regions Press, 2015)
  • Weeks 115-124: Legacy of the Reanimator, edited by Peter Rawlik and Brian M. Sammons (Chaosium, 2015)
  • Weeks 116-123: The Beautiful Thing That Awaits Us All, by Laird Barron (Night Shade Books, 2014)
  • Weeks 119-136: Made in Goatswood: New Tales of Horror in the Severn Valley, edited by Scott David Aniolowski (Chaosium, 1995)
  • Weeks 124-132: Behold the Void, by Philip Fracassi (Lovecraft eZine Press, 2018)
  • Weeks 125-126: The Inhabitant of the Lake & Other Unwelcome Tenants, by Ramsey Campbell (PS Publishing, 2018)
  • Weeks 127-153: A Mythos Grimmly, edited by Jeremy Hochhalter (Wanderer’s Haven Publications, 2015)
  • Weeks 127-136: The Red Brain: Great Tales of the Cthulhu Mythos, edited by S.T. Joshi (Dark Regions Press, 2017)
  • Weeks 133-154: The Madness of Dr. Caligari, edited by Joseph S. Pulver, Sr. (Fedogan & Bremer, 2016)
  • Weeks 137-152: To Rouse Leviathan, by Matt Cardin (Hippocampus Press, 2019)
  • Weeks 137-156: Degrees of Fear and Others, by C.J. Henderson (Dark Quest, 2011)
  • Weeks 153-168: The Mammoth Book of Nightmare Stories, edited by Stephen Jones (Skyhorse, 2019)
  • Weeks 154-165: Cthulhu’s Reign, edited by Darrell Schweitzer (DAW, 2010)
  • Weeks 155-178: Haggopian and Other Stories, by Brian Lumley (Solaris, 2009)
  • Weeks 157-171: Dark Equinox and Other Tales of Lovecraftian Horror, by Ann K. Schwader (Hippocampus Press, 2015)
  • Weeks 166-187: The Mammoth Book of Body Horror, edited by Paul Kane and Marie O’Regan (Robinson, 2012)
  • Weeks 169-185: Tales of Jack the Ripper, edited by Ross E. Lockhart (Word Horde, 2013)
  • Weeks 172-180: The Casebook of Carnacki the Ghost Finder, by William Hope Hodgson (Wordsworth, 2006)
  • Weeks 179-275: The Weird: A Compendium of Strange and Dark Stories, edited by Ann and Jeff Vandermeer (Tor, 2012)
  • Weeks 181-192: The Gods of H.P. Lovecraft, edited by Aaron J. French (JournalStone, 2015)
  • Weeks 186-196: Alfred Hitchcock’s Monster Museum, edited by Robert Arthur (Random House, 1965)
  • Weeks 188-207: Under Twin Suns: Alternate Histories of the Yellow Sign, edited by James Chambers (Hippocampus Press, 2021)
  • Weeks 193-203: The Skinless Face, by Donald Tyson (Weird House Press, 2020)
  • Weeks 197-208: Young Mutants, edited by Isaac Asimov, Martin H. Greenberg, and Charles Waugh (HarperCollins, 1984)
  • Weeks 204-216: Just After Sunset, by Stephen King (Scribner, 2008)
  • Weeks 208-237: Weird Vampire Tales, edited by Robert Weinberg, Stefan R. Dziemianowicz, and Martin H. Greenberg, (Gramercy Books, 1992)
  • Weeks 209-219: Alfred Hitchcock’s Witch’s Brew (Random House, 1983)
  • Weeks 217-228: Cthulhu 2000, edited by Jim Turner (Del Rey, 1999)
  • Weeks 220-240: Hellbound Hearts, edited by Paul Kane and Marie O’Regan (Pocket Books, 2009)
  • Weeks 229-248: The Children of Cthulhu, edited by John Pelan and Benjamin Adams (Del Rey/Ballantine, 2002)
  • Weeks 238-249: A Taste for Blood, edited by Martin H. Greenberg (Barnes & Noble Books, 1992)
  • Weeks 241-269: The Black Magic Omnibus, edited by Peter Haining (Taplinger, 1976)
  • Weeks 249-265: Whispers, edited by Stuart David Schiff (Jove/HBJ, 1979)
  • Weeks 250-263: Caped Fear: Superhuman Horror Stories, edited by Steve Proposch, Christopher Sequeira, and Bryce Stevens (IFWG Australia, 2022)
  • Weeks 264-280: Knifepoint Horror: The Transcripts, Volume 1, by Soren Narnia (self-published, 2018)
  • Weeks 266-276: Reassuring Tales: Expanded Edition, by T.E.D. Klein (Pickman’s Press, 2021)
  • Weeks 270-286: Dracula Unfanged, edited by Christopher Sequeira (IFWG Australia, 2022)
  • Weeks 276-289: The Book of Cthulhu II, edited by Ross E. Lockhart (Night Shade Books, 2022)
  • Weeks 277-293: Tails of Terror: Stories of Cat-Themed Horror, edited by Brian M. Sammons (Golden Goblin Press, 2018)
  • Weeks 281-296: Knifepoint Horror: The Transcripts, Volume 2, by Soren Narnia (self-published, 2018)
  • Weeks 287-296: The Call of Poohthulhu, edited by Neil Baker (April Moon Books, 2022)
  • Weeks 290-309: Nightmares & Dreamscapes, by Stephen King (Signet, 1994)
  • Weeks 294-311: Shadows Over Baker Street, edited by Michael Reaves and John Pelan (Del Rey/Ballantine, 2005)
  • Weeks 297-311: Cruel Stories, by Donald Tyson (Weird House Press, 2022)
  • Weeks 297-304: The Edogawa Rampo Reader, by Edogawa Rampo, translated by Seth Jacobowitz (Kurodahan Press, 2008)

As one might imagine, of the 68 books I’ve read, some were better (MUCH! better) than others. Some turned out to be real stinkers. Of the 68, here were my favorites, and ones I would recommend HIGHLY:

  • If you haven’t yet read Lovecraft, start with this one: The Call of Cthulhu and Other Weird Stories, by H.P. Lovecraft, edited by S.T. Joshi (Penguin, 1999).
  • If you don’t know Clive Barker’s work, and aren’t averse to body horror, start with: Books of Blood, Volumes One to Three, by Clive Barker (Berkley, 1998).
  • If you’re looking for more Lovecraftian tales by people who followed in Lovecraft’s footsteps, read these two: The Book of Cthulhu, edited by Ross E. Lockhart (Night Shade Books, 2011) and A Mountain Walked: Great Tales of the Cthulhu Mythos, edited by S.T. Joshi (Dark Regions Press, 2015).
  • If you’re looking for an introduction to Laird Barron’s work, read: The Beautiful Thing That Awaits Us All, by Laird Barron (Night Shade Books, 2014).
  • If you want other recommendations for cosmic horror, try: The Madness of Dr. Caligari, edited by Joseph S. Pulver, Sr. (Fedogan & Bremer, 2016) and Dark Equinox and Other Tales of Lovecraftian Horror, by Ann K. Schwader (Hippocampus Press, 2015).
  • If you want to be scared out of your wits, or at least sincerely unsettled after reading, try: Knifepoint Horror: The Transcripts, Volume 1, by Soren Narnia (self-published, 2018).

As I have mentioned previously, the life of a blogger is a sometimes lonely one, so let me know what you think of the reviews, or hit me with any other questions or comments you might have. As always, thanks for reading!

Week 311 – Weekly Horror Short Story Reviews: Tyson and Clark

Welcome to Week 311–the FINAL WEEK, in fact–of my horror short fiction review project! As I mentioned previously, I’m wrapping this particular series of posts up, but never fear, the blog isn’t going anywhere. Next week I’ll do my last annual roundup for the project. Three very nice stories this week, one a novella, but my favorite was “Nightmare in Wax” by Simon Clark, who offers us an excellent rendering of Homes, Watson, and Moriarty tangling with the Necronomicon. How can you go wrong with a story like that?

Cruel Stories, by Donald Tyson (Weird House Press, 2022)

“The Seed of Vass”

A woman seeks the aid of a witch to gain revenge on her lover. The old herbalist is far more than she appears, and takes her on a gruesome journey, introducing her to real witchcraft. Good.

“The Rose Circle”

A novella—the longest story in the collection—about a young woman in nineteenth-century Boston who becomes increasingly interested in seances and spiritualism, which drives her to become involved with a group of Bohemian spiritualists and occultists. That path begins with an introduction to drugs and free love by the group, which, it soon becomes clear, is more of a cult than anything else, but it takes an even darker path when it becomes clear that the group has access to real magic. Very dark magic, as it turns out. Very nice.

Shadows Over Baker Street, edited by Michael Reaves and John Pelan (Del Rey/Ballantine, 2005)

“Nightmare in Wax” by Simon Clark

This one is truly creepy. An elderly Watson is playing some wax cylinders recorded by Holmes, passing along news of his pursuit of Moriarty, who is seeking the Necronomicon. I liked this one a lot.

Week 310 – Weekly Horror Short Story Reviews: Tyson, Macomber, and Wilson

Welcome to Week 310 of my horror short fiction review project, the penultimate week! Just two stories this week as we wind things down. My favorite was Tyson’s “What is happening” about a wealthy man who has the misfortune of surviving the collapse of human civilization. He has grown so dependent on others that he’s not especially well-equipped for this new environment in which he finds himself.

Cruel Stories, by Donald Tyson (Weird House Press, 2022)

“What Is Happening”

A wealthy, demanding, morbidly obese man who cannot move out of his bed unaided turns out to be in serious trouble when civilization collapses and he can no longer rely on his servants to help him with the simplest of tasks. This is a story of karma and all that.

Shadows Over Baker Street, edited by Michael Reaves and John Pelan (Del Rey/Ballantine, 2005)

“Death Did Not Become Him” by Patricia Lee Macomber and David Niall Wilson

Watson brings a mystery to Holmes that only he can solve. Watson had earlier received some of his own visitors, you see, and the pair must embark on an adventure involving Jewish mysticism. Not bad, but a little forgettable.

Week 309 – Weekly Horror Short Story Reviews: Tyson, King, and MacIntyre

Welcome to Week 309 of my horror short fiction review project! Today we bid farewell to Stephen King’s Nightmares & Dreamscapes, though we will continue onward for two more weeks after this one. Once again our three stories were all entertaining ones, though my favorite was King’s “Umney’s Last Case,” which is a very meta story about what becomes a highly antagonistic and existential relationship between an author and one of his protagonists, a noir-ish private eye in 1940s Hollywood.

Cruel Stories, by Donald Tyson (Weird House Press, 2022)

“Future Indefinite”

A middle-aged reporter runs into a group of young revolutionaries, who turn out to be way more radical (and violent) then is initially clear. I don’t want to spoil all of the revelations of this story, because there are definitely some important surprises here. This was an interesting one, and took me on several twists and turns that I had not anticipated.

Nightmares & Dreamscapes, by Stephen King (Signet, 1994)

“Umney’s Last Case”

A Chandler-esque private eye living in 1930s Los Angeles meets his author creator when the author enters the world he has created because his own life has gone bad. This is an extremely meta story, which I appreciated, but it’s a lot of fun. The character is badly abused by the author and, well, the character seeks revenge. How does one double-cross one’s own creator? Good stuff.

Shadows Over Baker Street, edited by Michael Reaves and John Pelan (Del Rey/Ballantine, 2005)

“The Adventure of Exham Priory” by F. Gwynplaine MacIntyre

We learn the truth about the Reichenbach Falls encounter between Holmes and Moriarty, not the one that he eventually revealed to Watson. Here, Moriarty is in league with the Great Old Ones, seeking esoteric means of building his power base. At the last second, even Moriarty recalls what it means to be an Englishman. Fun story.

Book Review: Rogue by Greg F. Gifune

Rogue
Greg F. Gifune
JournalStone Publishing (September 14, 2018)
Reviewed by Andrew Byers

The veneer of the American Dream—loving spouse, solid job, nice house, comfortable life—fractures catastrophically in Greg F. Gifune’s Rogue, revealing a narrative that intricately weaves psychological unraveling with supernatural horror. Gifune takes readers on a harrowing journey through the life of Cameron Horne, a man whose seemingly idyllic existence spirals into a nightmarish descent. This tightly-woven and unsettling exploration delves into the complexities of identity and the inexorable pull of the unknown.

Cameron Horne starts with what we might assume to be the quintessential American life but the fabric of his reality begins to unravel almost as soon as the novel begins. Gifune crafts a compelling premise here, introducing readers to a protagonist whose descent into darkness becomes an irresistible vortex of mystery and terror. Cameron is a civil servant who monitors registered sex offenders, which brings him into daily contact with some of humanity’s worst on a daily basis. As the narrative progresses, he is beset by increasing bouts of confusion, missing time, and sudden fits of violence. He eventually comes to experience even more disturbing things that deeply upset the fabric of his daily life and cause him to begin to question everything about himself.

As Cameron grapples with bizarre episodes of lost time, horrifying nightmares, and a haunting figure that seems to possess knowledge of the future, the narrative takes on an otherworldly hue. Gifune masterfully blends psychological horror with the supernatural, creating an atmosphere that is both disquieting and captivating. The question of whether Cameron is losing his mind or being stalked by an evil force becomes a central enigma, propelling the plot forward with relentless suspense.

The characterization in Rogue is a testament to Gifune’s narrative prowess. Cameron Horne is more than a mere vessel for the story; he is a complex, multifaceted character whose internal struggles mirror the external horrors he faces. Gifune delves into Cameron’s psyche with nuance, portraying the internal conflict between his mild-mannered facade and the awakening of something primal and malevolent within. Because he experiences missing time, confusion, and uncertainty about what is happening to him—is everything he seems to experience real?—we, like Cameron himself, take a journey to discover the mystery at the heart of Cameron’s increasingly troubling experiences and crumbling persona.

The atmospheric elements of the novel contribute significantly to its impact. Gifune’s ability to evoke a sense of dread is palpable, as shadowy figures, mysterious voices, and haunting visions encroach upon Cameron’s reality. The pacing of Rogue is a finely tuned symphony of tension and revelation. Gifune skillfully tightens the narrative screws, allowing suspense to mount steadily as the protagonist’s descent accelerates. The oscillation between moments of eerie calm and explosive violence adds a dynamic layer to the storytelling, keeping readers on the edge of their seats.

In Rogue, Gifune blends elements of horror, psychological thrillers, and supernatural mystery seamlessly. The novel stands as a testament to his ability to craft narratives that transcend genre boundaries, offering readers a nuanced and chilling exploration of the human psyche under the weight of malevolence. As the layers of Cameron Horne’s unraveling are peeled back, Rogue becomes a haunting odyssey that lingers in the mind, inviting contemplation of the boundaries between sanity and the unknown.

This review originally appeared in Hellnotes.