Fu Manchu’s Vampire by Guido Henkel

Welcome to Meli Monday’s cont…wait, that’s only partly right. It is indeed  Monday, but I am not Meli. Apologies to our readers, but Meli is actually in the Florida bayou wrangling gators (honest, the postcard had bite marks). Don’t worry, CORRUPTS ABSOLUTELY will continue next week, and we apologize for the miscue.

Meli’s one of the most metal chicks I know, so it’s only fitting that I post this particular review today, being that Guido and I have had a few chats about the merits of metal, more specifically guitarists. Without further ado, here’s the review:

Guido Henkel is a name that many of you are probably unfamiliar with. He writes the Jason Dark: Ghost Hunter series, which takes place in the Victorian era seemingly alongside the escapades of Sherlock Holmes. In fact, many parallels are drawn between the two sleuths, most notably their use of Inspector Lestrade as a liaison with Scotland Yard. In the latest installment Fu Manchu’s Vampire, Jason Dark goes toe to toe with a familiar adversary, with some familiar backup. From the website:

When ordinary measures are no longer enough, criminal mastermind Fu Man Chu is making use of a supernatural henchman to get his way. Soon, Scotland Yard is confronted with a series of unexplainable deaths that unsettle Victorian London, and Inspector Lestrade turns to occult detective Jason Dark and Siu Lin for help.

But as they look into the case, little do the ghost hunters suspect that the evil crime lord has already made them the vampire’s next target!

Filled with enough mystery, drama and suspenseful action to transport you to the sinister streets of gaslit London, your encounter with the extraordinary awaits as a new nightmare emerges and an old nemesis returns.

The story is a return to form for Henkel, having already given his readers a dose of the romantic undead in book #2 Theatre Of Vampires (which was this reader’s personal favourite of the series.) Along for the ride, as always, are Jason Dark’s sidekick/assistant/love interest Siu Lin, and in lesser roles are Herbert and Lady Wellsely. Dark’s mission initially involves investigating two murders, though in rather typical Henkel style, that mystery is solved rather easily in order to set up the larger, more involved plot.

While the initial murder is predictable (the story wouldn’t go anywhere if we didn’t find out whodunnit) Henkel inserts a rather nice twist in that both Dark and Fu Man Chu are duped by a second antagonist. This serves to break the otherwise formulaic approach that Henkel has adopted throughout 11 books. That’s not necessarily a negative, readers are accustomed to certain authors following a pattern, I’m simply pointing out that Henkel has his own style.

That style often involves a two-pronged subplot regarding Siu Lin. On one side, she is Dark’s aide and confidant, and on the other she is a love interest. The amorous tension between the two had been building for almost the entire series, and I’m not going to spoil anything but this book adds a sense of finality to that subplot.

Fu Manchu’s Vampire is somewhat of a return to form for Guido Henkel. The story isn’t without flaws, but the prose feels fresher than some of his earlier works, and the double-twist in the plot is well done and unexpected. For more on Guido Henkel as well as purchase links for Fu Manchu’s Vampire and the whole Jason Dark series, visit his website.

Rough Music by Simon Kurt Unsworth

Simon Marshall-Jones and Spectral Press never fail to entertain me. With an editor that has his interests steeped in some of the most incredible prose I’ve read in a long while, this press is destined to go the distance in bringing great UK styled horror to the genre at large. The crime is that every chapbook from this press is limited to a run of 100, and not more. These are stories that should be available to more of the horror-centric audience, but they also sometimes tend to approach literary perfection.

Case in point is Unsworth’s Rough Music. This jaunt into a more abstract, yet emotionally charged world of hysteria, love, hallucinations and dreams. What Unsworth achieves with this short tale is nothing if not remarkable, and it’s a shame that it hasn’t reached the hands of more readers out there.

Rough Music: (`n) a loud cacophony created with tin pans, drums, etc., the cacophonous ringing of bells, hooting, blowing bull’s horns, the banging of frying pans, saucepans, kettles, or other kitchen or barn implements with the intention of creating long-lasting embarrassment.

Sometimes, the sounds we head in the dark have resonances that we cannot foresee…”

– from the back cover

Unsworth’s story unfolds as such: Cornish wakes to a full bladder and a faint sound coming from outside. With a feeble attempt to ignore the pain in his bladder, he tries to go back to sleep, fails, and begins his long journey into madness. Throughout the story, we’re made aware of his infidelity, his love/hate relationship with his wife due to said infidelity, his inability to focus on anything productive, and the mysterious group of players that have begun to assemble just outside his house in order to create a huge racket and enact a scene that we find is meant for him, and him alone. His madness reaches a peak, and he invariably makes one of the worst mistakes of his life, leading to the loss of everything he holds dear.

“Emotionally charged” doesn’t even begin to describe the feeling of this book. I’ve said in many other reviews that this sort of subject matter makes me uncomfortable. Maybe it’s the idea of a relationship going sour, or the idea that we are all truly alone in our own heads, but it’s just something that takes me deep into head-speak and doesn’t let me out for days. This author basically wrapped all of that in one little tale, bludgeoned me over the head with raw emotion, and then left me in a field with giant headed musicians to keep me company. It’s strange, but it’s vivid, alluring, and wholly mesmerizing.

The music that the narrator speaks of is almost a tangible aspect to this story, making it impossible to look away from the big picture: that guilt truly is the enemy of sanity. Any of you out there who have felt even the smallest shred of humanity while doing something wrong, no matter how tiny, know exactly what I’m talking about. Now imagine that on display for you and only you, and you’ll completely understand what this main character is going through. It’s harrowing, really. I felt for this poor bastard throughout the entire thing, and even when he made the biggest mistake of all at the end.

There’s nothing comical about the spectres that Unsworth presents in this tale, but you can sure as hell bet that they’re weird. It’s almost like the author decided to write a piece of bizarro fiction and instead created a vast expanse of discomfort drawn in the most perfect words imaginable. To say I liked this book would be a total understatement. This is a piece of fiction that I would suggest to anyone dealing with megalomania or any mental condition that makes them think ‘It could never happen to me’. Honestly. I can’t get over how damned perfect and simple this ending is. Everything builds up with a rollicking crescendo of noise and hurt, only to be toppled with the smallest pebble in a quarry of pain. It’s absolutely breathtaking.

Unfortunately for most, this story is currently sold out at Spectral. Like I said above (and in my review of King Death), I really wish these were available to a larger group of people, and I hope the publisher decides to expand into ebooks and/or bump up their number of copies produced. Spectral is doing amazing things for the horror genre, and for the literary landscape in general.

C.

King Death by Paul Finch

I didn’t know what to think of this one when I went into it. For one, when I receive one of Spectral’s books to review, the first thing I do is leaf through it to find out exactly how long it is. Not because I want to get it over with, but because I want to know how much time they’re going to take me away for. This is, as I’ve mentioned before, one of the most exciting presses to hit the genre in a long while. The UK style that they bring forth is refreshing, and harkens back to the good old days of hammer horror and the perfection that one could expect with the stories they told.

So when I opened this one and found a glossary… well… I was a little put off. To clarify a little, I’m trying to work my way through A Game of Thrones right now. I’m not (at all) a fan of sprawling epics that require the use of maps, strange languages, and a system of words that I’ll never remember. But the prologue to that book hooked me. Now, back to the story at hand. When I saw the glossary, I immediately thought of Eddings and company, and wondered if Spectral finally dealt me a book that I wasn’t going to like.

I couldn’t have been more wrong if I stapled the damned thing to my chest and hollered about sparkling vampires and the end of the world as we know it.

This chapbook kicked some serious ass.

In 1348, England is stricken by the Black Death. The worst pandemic in human history has reached the kingdom of the warlike Edward III, a monarch who in battle against human adversaries cannot imagine defeat.

Two thirds of his subjects now perish. Woods become wild again, farmland goes to rack and ruin, villages, towns and castles are left empty, inhabited only by ghosts.

Little wonder that fear of the supernatural reaches an all-time high. Little wonder stories ignite about witches and demons spreading the plague, about ‘King Death’, an awesome harbinger of doom from whom there is not protection.

Cynical opportunist Roderic doesn’t believe any of these. With reckless indifference, he sets out to enrich himself…

-from the back cover.

Now there’s a load for the mind, right there. What we’re looking at is basically the story of a knight, or squire, who has not succumb to the plague, and is using every bit of his knowledge to gain more and more riches for himself, no matter the cost. He runs across a young boy in the woods who believes that he, Roderic, is the fabled ‘King Death’, and leads him to his castle – a place that is completely devoid of life – under the promises of sparing his life and granting him untold riches. What Roderic finds there, though, is a knife in the back and the chance to meet the real ‘King Death’, himself.

The fact that this book basically came out of nowhere is always a plus with me, as a reader. The imagery was incredible, and every facet of the story was told in a manner that didn’t speak down to the reader, even though it was set in a time period that necessitated a glossary. It’s not difficult to figure out what everything is when put into context, and it’s made simpler by the fact that the whole of the story is very cinematic and easily imagined as a scene in one’s head rather than a story told on paper. And I say scene because this story is basically one long scene pulled out of what feels like an epic tale.

Finch has the flow and style of reminiscent of the heavyweights of our horror history that immediately called forth the stories of Campbell, Blackwood, and Hodgeson, if only for his ability to craft an intensely dramatic, yet stripped down scene. I know a lot of people may disagree with me, but this kind of stellar writing doesn’t happen often enough in UK horror to make me think of these authors. King Death really is a treat to read, and it bothers me that it’s not widely available.

Now, to speak about the press for a second, it’s important for me to mention how damned perfect these pieces are, and how much you’re going to want to get out there and get your hands on these stories. Maybe together we can convince them to release more than 100, or even release them as ebooks. Go take a look at my reviews for Nowhere Hall or Abolisher of Roses. Even What They Hear In The Dark. These are amazing stories featuring incredible artwork and produced by one of my absolute favourite small/specialty presses. With King Death, Spectral has cemented themselves in my head as a press capable of heading up a revolution in UK horror. Keep an eye on these, folks. They go fast.

C.

A Laymon Kind Of Night by Mark Allan Gunnells

As a huge Richard Laymon fan and completist, I find it hard to pass up anything having to do with the author I admire so much. His work is fun, fast, far from realistic, and provides pretty much the most satisfying beach or bus read the horror genre has ever seen. But that’s my opinion. Not everybody is a Laymon fan, and not everybody appreciates the tongue in-cheek, often crass stylings of the gone-too-soon master of pulp horror fiction.

When I saw this little collection/chapbook for sale on Amazon while doing a ritualistic check for never-new Laymon fare for the Kindle, I was intrigued. The synopsis was interesting, and the author’s name was somewhat familiar. Seeing the title, I wondered if this was going to be one author’s tribute to the late, great author. While this is an interesting, entertaining standalone collection of 3 stories by Gunnels, channelling the spirit of the titular author to some small degree, it falls short of the homage I’m sure it was meant to be.

A late night walk home through a city teeming with danger… a nosy neighbor who discovers more than he bargained for… a take on Body Snatchers with vans instead of pods… Journey into the shadowy realms of human behavior where our darkest impulses are exposed to the light.

The first story up is the titular, A Laymon Kind Of Night, which focusses on a standard, if not clichéd, take on a typical female Laymon character, but with more faults than redeeming value. In the story, Tina has just recently discovered the works of Richard Laymon and quickly becomes obsessed with the author’s bibliography. What this has to do with the story, apart from being a blatant nod to the author, I don’t know. When her co-worker has a bad piece of fish for lunch and ends up not being able to close the bookstore they work at, Tina finds herself going home very late and completely out of her element in a shady part of town. With every situation she faces, whether it be taking the bus or walking down the street, Tina finds a commonality between her present experience and some of Laymon’s most depraved plots, regardless of how far-fetched the idea may be.

What this story is missing most is the well structured chaos present in all of Laymon’s work. No matter how outrageous or ridiculous the plot is, the author is almost always able to make some sort of justification for his subject’s actions. One of the best things about Laymon is the formulaic aspect to all of his novels, but A Laymon Kind Of Night reads more like a generalization of the man’s work than it does an homage. Everywhere Tina turns she faces something potentially horrible, imagining potential rape scenes here and there by some perverted member of society. Be it a young Mexican man offering her some help, a sleazy looking bus driver, a homeless man (any hard-core Laymon fan knows that he often wrote very terrible things about the homeless in his stories), or a man masturbating in the back of a porn shop (this is what I meant my far-fetched); Tina feels, or imagines the potential for danger coming from every direction. In the end, when an honest man tries to come to her aid, Tina is so deluded that she reacts murderously in an effort to protect herself. With an out of context, weak twist ending, the story misses the mark. Gunnells surely delivers a great short story, but ultimately a sub-par Laymon tribute.

This story should have maybe been a middle or closing tale and not the title of this collection, as it’s severely misleading and, in my opinion, may do more harm than good for those who haven’t had a chance to read Laymon’s work. A Laymon Kind Of Night might read like a fun standalone story, but not as a feature dedicated to the work of Richard Laymon. It unfortunately undermines the great pulp sensibilities that Laymon is so well-known for, in favor of a perverse trip into a “what if” scenario that only hints at the power it could have held. If one were to read this without any prior knowledge of Laymon’s body of work, they may assume that his fiction was completely throw-away fare designed for perverts and creeps.

The Snoop is up next, picking up yet another Laymon type of feeling, but this time adding what I can only define as a Ketchum-esque attitude. Anyone familiar with the work of Jack Ketchum knows that his pieces are more often than not quite brusque and, for lack of a better word, brutal. With this short story, Gunnells channels everything he should have in the previous one, and maximizes the creep factor towards a great little tale that would sit well in not only a Ketchum tribute, but a Laymon one as well. It’s my understanding that this story wasn’t written to incite fan reactions from either camp, but the author does a phenomenal job at this unconscious shout-out to the greats of our modern genre. This is the story that should have led off the collection, hands down.

In first person narrative, the reader is introduced to a pretty much normal American male who is asked to watch his neighbor’s dog while he’s away on vacation. The narrator admits to a love of going through other people’s belongings, and tortures himself by waiting an hour after his neighbor leaves before entering his house to start snooping. Gunnells uses a great sense of the mundane to set the stage for an air of creepiness and unsettling weirdness. The narrator searches through the house for anything that would be of interest to him, or might reveal more information about his neighbor, but comes up with nothing above average… which sort of telegraphs the ending immediately. But that’s part of the fun with this story. Eventually the narrator takes a visit to the basement and finds a very disturbing scene. The story ends with the author amping up this disturbing revelation, thus satisfying the reader and his or her expectations for this tale. The Snoop is a great short story, and a hell of a lot stronger than its predecessor. I’d read more of Gunnells’ work based on this story alone.

The last story in this small collection is Van People – an absurd little take on The Invasion Of The Body Snatchers, but also a bit of a new direction in the author’s literary canon. In this one, Gunnells showcases a well honed ability to write dialogue, narrowly saving the tale from being a bland re-imagining of a phenomenally original story. While I have to say that the use of vans instead of pods is both interesting and ridiculous, it ends up being a fun tale steeped in a more Goosebumps-for-grownups kind of way, but not without its many faults.

Three friends – a gay man (Travis), a soon-to-be father (David), and a sterile single man (Kevin) are hanging out in a backyard, talking (*note – the author had to add the sterility part as a point of contention to further the story… as the reader finds out a little later). The conversation turns to fatherhood and the characters’ back stories revealing the above mentioned tidbits of information, but really offers no hint as to what is about to happen. They do talk about David selling his mustang in order to purchase a van, and the stage is set for a rebellious, if not maligned, conversation about one losing one’s balls by upgrading to a family vehicle. At this point, the story shifts and David inexplicably deserts his friends in the cruelest and most confusing of ways. He berates his former friends, makes threats and homophobic remarks towards Travis, and generally shuns them on relatively unknown terms, thus explaining the whole Body Snatchers theme right then and there.

Travis and Kevin continue hanging out until Kevin has to go out-of-town on business. Upon his return, he finds Travis and David hanging out in David’s backyard. He attempts to regain their former friendship, but is met with rudeness and a shallow ignorance that was once delivered by David alone. Completely confused, Kevin retreats to his house, attempts to go on with his life, and eventually becomes prey to a whole society of people buying vans and treating him like street trash. The reader has, by this point, already figured out that the author replaced pods for vans, and that the entire coup was being staged from the van dealership in the first place. But, pushing on, Kevin decides to do something brash and attracts nothing but the end of his life as he knows it.

Van People is at both times a frustrating and interesting read that really does show that dialogue is the most important part of a story… in some cases. Gunnells utilizes the emotion in the voice of his characters to express exactly what he wants them to, even when colliding with an idea that refuses to settle in the reader’s mind as even remotely rational. Personally, the whole premise felt like a clichéd attempt at some sort of machismo aimed at the youth of today, but served up in the wrong decade. I imagine this story would sit well with the blue-collar youth of yesteryear, but it just doesn’t sit well in this day and age.

It’s a little bit of a stretch to say that this book is a collection of truly original short stories, as they all serve as tales honoring certain authors or aspects of the genre, but it’s worth the read if you’re so inclined. I wouldn’t suggest this as a piece of fiction meant solely (or at all) for Laymon enthusiasts (the self-described “Laymonites”, or so I’ve heard) but for anyone interested in campy, fast paced horror fare centered around the human condition, it’s a fun little read at a good price.

Burning Effigy’s: An Evening With The Authors

Burning Effigy Press is unabashedly one of our favourite publishers here at DT, so when we found out about this event, we jumped at the chance to attend. This was an evening of wonderful people, conversation, and literature. An Evening with the Authors was an incredibly immersive experience, so please feel free to read the article and watch the video embedded below.

We began the evening as Burning Effigy founder/owner Monica S. Kuebler took the stage and thanked us all for attending, as well as expressing a very sincere gratitude for having made 2011 Burning Effigy’s best year ever. Monica hinted at new releases in 2012 from both Ian Rogers and Tobin Elliott, both of whom were featured performers this evening along with comedian/playwright Jeff Cottrill. Monica then recounted all of the books that B.E. had published in 2011 in chronological order:

THIS LITTLE LIGHT OF MINE – Nate Southard
VANISHING HOPE – Tobin Elliot
AT LOUCHE ENDS – Maria Alexander
GROUCH ON A COUCH – Jeff Cottrill
BLACK EYED KIDS –  Ian Rogers
7 BRAINS – Michael Louis Calvillo

Monica then introduced us to our first author of the night, performing a scene from the hilarious one-man play GROUCH ON A COUCH, Jeff Cottrill. The scene is from the middle of the play, and rather than spoil it, please watch the video below and be on the lookout for my personal favourite scene – trash angels! Also, keep en eye out for a full review on the site in the coming weeks.

Upon completion of the scene, Monica joined Jeff on stage for a Q&A session. We begin with the obvious:

  • Why a play? Jeff has always loved theatre but had an affinity for numbers and was forced into things like math and business, until he admittedly failed himself out of York and begun to live for his passion.
  • What would he do differently? “Don’t listen to shitty advice.” Many people told him what he needed/didn’t need and he ended up getting conned, as a result he’s resolute to listen to his gut.
  • Will he ever do another play? Jeff will definitely write more plays, but is rather hesitant to perform again.
  • What is the backstory to GROUCH? Jeff wanted to mesh Avenue Q with Z Story. He also took elements of his personal life to apply to the character.
  • Current projects? Jeff is currently studying sketch comedy at Second City, where he’s nearly completed the course and will have his sketches performed live. (Please watch the video or listen to the audio for exact dates.)

After a brief intermission, Monica introduced us to VANISHING HOPE scribe, Tobin Elliott. Initially, Tobin hired Monica to edit NO HOPE but, after reading the manuscript, Monica decided that she wanted to publish it. She requested that Elliott write a sort of ‘teaser’ chapbook for quick release, and the author obliged, producing VANISHING HOPE in response. The novel, NO HOPE, will be available sometime in 2012. Tobin thanked Jeff, Ian, DT’s own Colum and Monica for their support. Before the reading, Elliott noted that the cover model lives in Russia and recently reached out to him via Facebook. Her name is Natalie. (Those who’ve not read VANISHING HOPE, the protagonist’s name is Talia.) Tobin’s reading begins on page 39.

After the reading, Tobin is joined by Monica for his Q&A which Monica begins with a burning question:

  • What took so long to break in? Tobin cites a lack of confidence in his work and his unwillingness to admit that he is a writer as his main reason for not pursuing horror fiction sooner.
  • Are there any stories yet to be told? The novel, NO HOPE is still taking shape, and Tobin does have preliminary ideas for a follow up.
  • How did VANISHING HOPE come about? The “squirrel scene” was originally a short story, and he expanded on that.
  • What can we expect from NO HOPE? Set in 1981, there will be new characters, a broader world, and more antagonists. Set in a school, Tobin exorcised some high school demons through the actions of his characters.
  • Why is a child (Talia) the protagonist? Tobin wanted to explore a loss and perversion of innocence, the character of Talia gave him those opportunities.
  • Did any research or medical study go into VANISHING HOPE? Absolutely none, Tobin happily admits that he “faked all of it.”
  • Will Talia be in NO HOPE? Only in cameos.
  • Current projects? Tobin is working on a murder mystery that he was asked to write, and has made one of his characters a writer working on a murder mystery.
  • Other appearances? None in the works, though Tobin will be at Darklit Durham as a fan.

After another brief intermission, Monica once again took the stage to present the final reader. She explained her love of long stories and epic series and the stark contrast between that love of long stories and the admittedly novella-favouring nature of Burning Effigy. When introduced to the Felix Renn series, Monica felt they’d be a perfect addition to the lineup. Ian Rogers then took the stage and read from BLACK EYED KIDS.

Prior to the reading, Rogers paused to explain the back story of Felix Renn and his world. Ian was once asked if the feel of dread in the books were a metaphor for 9-11, to which Ian understands the correlation, but did not write the books for that purpose. Ian then picked up a stack of printed pages, and read an excerpt of a completely new, unpublished Felix Renn story! Watch the exclusive footage of that reading below.

Ian remained onstage while once again Monica moderated the Q&A, which began with:

  • Where did Felix Renn come from? Ian loves to read detective, noir and horror stories, penned by the likes of J. Russell, Robert Parker, Jim Butcher and felt that the genres could meld quite nicely. Ian has coined his genre “supernoirtural”, where supernatural things exist as a matter of fact. Ian also believes that Felix is a “wiseass, like me.”
  • How did you build the world of the Black Land? The world is left very open and in the background, as Ian wanted to avoid over-describing the world and concentrate on plot, character and other fundamentals. Ian stressed that the world needed to be practical in order to maintain a suspension of disbelief.
  • How many Felix stories can there be? Ian noted that he has 3 or 4 novels outlined, and a spinoff brewing for another character. He believes that Felix’s world is centralized in Toronto, which will eventually come to an end, but the spinoff has the potential to go nation-wide.
  • Where else can readers find Felix? The story MY BODY can be found in Chilling Tales, while MIDNIGHT BLONDE will be found in and upcoming edition of British magazine Supernatural Tales. Ian mentioned the upcoming Felix Renn collection to be published by Burning Effigy will have at least 50% new material in order to keep readers sated.
  • From the unpublished story, who is the dead person? The interior decorator, though she’s not dead.
  • Tobin Elliott jumped in with a humourous request that Ian stop copying Tobin. “Kovac” is an integral character name in both BLACK EYED KIDS and VANISHING HOPE (though spelled slightly differently). The covers of both books feature creepy children. Monica chimed in stating that Tobin’s cover came first and the rights to the picture were purchased before Ian submitted his idea. Monica also assured us that Ian enjoys surprising her with plot details, and the initial drafts of both covers were virtually identical.
  • Where else will Ian be? Like Tobin, Ian will be attending Darklit Durham, but as an organizer along with Michael Kelly and founder Joel Sutherland. Ian also has a signing of his weird west novella DEADSTOCK coming up in Peterborough and he will be a guest at Wizard World Con in April.

After the Q&A with Rogers, Monica mentioned that, in addition to new offerings from Ian Rogers and Tobin Elliott, Burning Effigy will be publishing a novella by Gemma files in 2012. She then announced that her YA serial novel, BLEEDER, will begin on January 1, 2012 with the cover and synopsis being revealed exclusively at Dreadful Tales on December 1st. Monica thanked us all for coming, thanked the Black Swan for having us, and the show closed.

Colum and I personally would like to thank Monica S. Kuebler, Ian Rogers, Tobin Elliott and Jeff Cottrill for a wonderful evening, and for chatting with us afterward.

For more on Burning Effigy Press, visit their website and follow them on Twitter. Monica S. Kuebler can be found via Burning Effigy, on her website, and the BLEEDER website.

For more information on the Felix Renn series, visit The Black Lands. Ian Rogers can be found at his website or via Twitter.

Tobin Elliott maintains a blog here, and you may also find him on Twitter.

Jeff Cottrill can be found and contacted via his website, and he also keeps a Twitter account.

To keep up to date with everything Dreadful Tales, bookmark us, follow us on Twitter and like us on Facebook.

7 Brains by Michael Louis Calvillo

7 Brains from Michael Louis Calvillo took me for a ride. I wasn’t really sure what to expect, never having read any of Calvillo’s previous works, this little book kept me on my toes right from page one.

Humanity is on the cusp of a New Evolution. Yep! Pure Emotion has curdled and given way to empty solutions, a gilded edge of bling-bling exteriors masking Rampant Corruption, Souring Evil and Internal Pollution. Our hero, Malcolm, the reluctant man with a reluctant plan, purpose fluttering in his chest from zero to a million miles an hour in seconds flat, holds the keys to the kingdom of light. All he has to do is eat seven lovely brains and set things right. He’s got a hacksaw, and a hammer, and a set of determined, pearly whites. Can he usher in hope before the imminent descent of everlasting night?

The story is told by Malcolm, himself, in first person. After only a few pages it becomes apparent that Malcolm is quite possibly insane. Calvillo’s narrative invites the reader into Malcolm’s mind, and paints a picture of a happy, yet troubled man. Malcolm’s nightmares draw upon legitimate human fears, while his conscious mental state evoked a genuine sympathy from this reader. As the pace of the story quickens and the antagonist is introduced, Malcolm further straddles the line of insanity, yet remains grounded by his constant love for his family.

Calvillo pushes the boundaries of classification with his antagonist. I began reading expecting a zombie splatter-fest, but that opinion was quickly squashed as Malcolm’s degeneration is protracted and “zombie” becomes improper terminology. Elements in both story and narrative suggest a paranormal antagonist, however that idea is quashed by the antagonist himself.

I said before that this book took me on a ride, and that’s the best way to describe it. 7 Brains is emotional, psychological horror. Having said that, this book contains all the gore and uncomfortable situations that hardcore readers will crave, and will test those limits at least twice. Calvillo made this book incredibly funny in areas where the humour was best served, and the punchlines were delivered effortlessly. Calvillo also examines the human condition, as each of the 7 brains represent human attributes that in Calvillo’s world, (and in ours, I’d agree) have been rendered extinct. Malcolm is forced to make gut-wrenching choices, and Calvillo’s world is so expertly constructed that all choices offered to Malcolm could have a terrible outcome.

7 Brains is only a taste of what Michael Louis Calvillo has to offer, and as a chapbook, it’s a bite-sized portion of awesome. You can order a copy from Burning Effigy Press, and check out Calvillo’s other works on his website.

Revenge Flick! by James Newman

I consider myself a big Tarantino fan.  I‘ve seen, purchased and analyzed all of his films and can rarely find fault with anything that the man touches. Hell, I quote Jackie Brown on a daily basis (much to my wife’s disapproval). I honestly believe that he will be remembered as one of the filmmakers that defined our generation.  I also love genre fiction (as evidenced this very site).  These two loves have existed completely independent of each other and, frankly, I’ve never given any thought to combining the two.  Lucky for me, James Newman did think to combine the two and the result is a nasty little chapbook called Revenge Flick!.

From SideshowPress.com

Behind the wheel of his Mustang, a rotting corpse riding shotgun, The Man With No Balls is on a quest for blood.

Once known as Roy “RJ” Taylor, he had a job in construction, a vintage black mustang, a double-wide trailer, and a loving wife. A part-time actor already in his 40s, he had all but abandoned his dreams of becoming the next Brad Pitt.

When he got a part in the latest film by celebrity film director Terry Quintana, it looked like RJ would finally get his big shot. But what should have been a dream come true soon spiraled into his worst nightmare.

Now RJ is no more, and The Man With No Balls has taken his place. Shotgun in hand, death in his thoughts, he is on a mission for REVENGE…

Revenge Flick! Plays out like an inside joke for lovers of all things Tarantino.  The story is funny, violent and just weird enough to make for a very worthy nod to the director.  Newman realizes that the strength of this chap comes from the brutal violence and unbridled rage felt by The Man With No Balls so he lets the character take center stage and the story moves to the background.  The Man With No Balls motors across his tattered life as he seeks to settle the score with the director who has ruined his dreams.  There is no shortage of blood as Newman gets flat-out nasty with his assault on the reader.  He takes no prisoners as The Man With No Balls exacts his revenge on every person that has done him wrong.  It is a thrilling little ride that will leave your gore soaked face grinning from ear to ear.

Newman flaunts his versatility as he uses numerous styles to tell the story.  There are sections written as a screenplay, while others are told in memoir form and there are also portions told from the third person.  All of these varying techniques and perspectives add to the overall cinematic flow of the chap and really give credence to the argument that Newman is one of the most talented writers working in the genre. His style is unique and unassuming while the ultimate effect is jarring and powerful.  Now, Revenge Flick! is not indicative of Newman’s true talent because, lets face it, this story is basically a tightly crafted exploitation flick in print. This is not a bad thing at all.  Newman has proven is true ability in novels like Midnight Rain and Animosity so it is a treat seeing him writing from a more whimsical place. It takes a great writer to know the story he is trying to tell and show the appropriate amount of restraint.

 

This is a fun little chap that is a must-own for fans of Newman and Tarantino. Revenge Flick! is limited to 150 copies and is signed by Mr. Newman, himself.  I strongly encourage you all to head over to Sideshow Press and pick up a copy.