Rust and Blood by Ed Kurtz

Why is it that sometimes when you come across a name, no matter where you turn, they’re always there seemingly laughing at you from the cabbage bin? Seriously. The past two pieces I’ve reviewed have had something to do with Ed Kurtz, Abattoir Press, or something else that I can’t remember but wanted to add because I like to work my descriptions in groups of three.

This offering, this splendidly varied cornucopia of horrific horror, is Kurtz’s first collection of short stories. Albeit one of the shorter collections I’ve recently read… thankfully… it still packs a wallop of a punch, and fills time without making me wish I’d have YouTubed past glories from So You Think You Can Dance. I will warn you, though, Kurtz does throw out a few pieces you just can’t un-see, but they’re sell worth it. Well, everything but Pearls. That one’s just fucking gross and I really never want to read it again.

From Amazon:

Love and cannibalism, retribution and madness, the horrors people commit in the name of goodness and the abominations that await behind closed doors. RUST & BLOOD collects nine stories of horror and crime where the tables are always turned and no one ever gets out unscathed.

Kurtz opens up this collection with Hunger, and immediately makes a reference to Arsenic and Old Lace. This, in turn, garners him many points in my book, and thus indemnifies him from a negative review. That said, go buy this book.

From here on out, we’ll talk about the mating rituals of the Alaskan Deer Whale-Prawn… uh… what?

Oh. Sorry, Meli.

Okay folks, it seems that I missed something during my absence from DT over the last few months. I’m just receiving word from the powers that be about a memo that went around? Apparently I actually have to review the book before I go on about anybody or anything’s mating habits.

(Ah, a segue in poor taste, Colum… as usual… *groan*)

Hunger starts off with by introducing Matthew, a young man that was morbidly obese as a child who, through the marvels of biology, grows into his fleshy self, and finds newly awesome opportunities with the opposite sex. After several relationships and a desperate addiction to “the next lay”, he finds himself unemployed, disaffected, and eating like it’s going out of style.

Fast forward a bunch of years and a few thousand snack-cakes later, and we see Matthew working at a motel and eventually into the bed of a “professional” named Carla. I won’t give up the rest of it, but look at the title, the set-up of the main character, and you can hopefully see where this is going. And here’s about the point in the review where I’ll put the little idea about mating habits on the table, and leave you to lose your appetite and feel all sorts of uncomfortable. Yep. The reader is fortunate that Kurtz does a wonderful job playing with the story here, and makes this a great opener for what is promising to be a fun little collection of stories. Even if I’ve just put some things in your head that you wish weren’t there.

And then came Sinners – a story that opens with a bit of mystery and grows to become what the reader understands is a sort-of after school special on a bender with Satan. Well, that may be a little excessive, but we’re on a ride in the Kurtz-mobile, so it’s pretty damned on target, if you ask me.

As the story unravels, Kurtz lays out the story of a young man who, upon witnessing or acting in, a brutal experience, is let out of the hospital after a 14 year visit, only to return to the scene of the crime – his home town. But Dean and Lee have it in mind to fix the sitch by finishing what they think should have been finished all those years ago. They mean to kill Billy Thorpe in a sort of small town justice.

Kurtz then takes all of the readers’ expectations and turns them on their head, crafting a deliriously creepy climactic scene, and ensuring a wicked quick page turning end. This is a keeper, for sure. It’s fast, it’s twisting, and it’s chock full of the author’s now trademark style. If you weren’t a fan of Kurtz before, you’re sure to be won over by this one right here.

Slowpoke is up next, making this animal loving reader question the author for a moment, and then deciding to just give the guy a chance to lay out his tale.

Okay… hold on. “Animal loving reader”, as in: I think animals are awesome and should be treated well… not the other way. Carry on.

Two drunkards, and apparently gamblers from the sounds of it, are deep in the sauce when one decides it’s time to kill himself a horsie. Why? A losing bet, I’m supposing. Regardless, they kick off the stools and get to the driving in search of vengeance and a weapon. What they get instead is a pain in the ass from “cousin Ike”, and a great scene full of hilarity that Kurtz pulls off expertly.

Fast forward to the ending, and what we have here is a wicked little ditty that teaches folks about the whole “what goes up must come down” mantra, and when it comes down, it’s probably going to ruin your t-shirt and kill your best friend. But the story isn’t finished yet, as Arnold, one of the two guys who tried to kill Mr. Ed, is put away, eventually gets out, and has to serve community service in a very embarrassing manner. And yes, there’s a great big LOL over here, and a LOL over there. When Kurtz wants to play with his characters and exhibit his wit, he does it well. Kurtz ends this story with a breezy, Tales from the Crypt feel, and again wins this reader’s continued attention.

So then we come to Family Bible, a tale that sees a sort of backwoods Romeo and Juliet, but not, thing going on. You know how these things go. One family is wicked strange, the other is… wicked strange. And two of these folks fall in love. This is a Kurtzified R&J version. So yeah… thar be blood.

Basically, what we see is a young Ezra falling in love with Annabelle, but their love is forbidden as per the Family Bible. Ezra is made to do a ridiculous amount of work in order to prove himself a man, as well as copy out, by hand, and entire bible’s worth of teachings. Ezra’s brother, Jonah, is a hard-case, and totally to the letter when it comes to his religion. When he finds out that Ezra and Annabelle have a thing going on, he goes nutso and makes with the biblical craziness, locking his brother in a room and reeking a sort of justice that is just… crazy. What happens after that is Kurtz proving that sometimes things don’t need to be tied up in a Hollywood kind of way. And goddamnit if he doesn’t do it with a kick in the teeth.

Next up comes the über fucked up W4M, that just had me howling with a wicked sense of “did he seriously just go there?” And yes, he went there.

Kurtz has a way of taking a conventional plot and making it all twisty and turny, ending way off in the cornfield and totally away from where you thought it would go. W4M is definitely not just that. It’s the extreme case of that. It’s a point in literature where you say “This writer fellow really does know a good story, chaps” in a fake English accent that your friends immediately make fun of you for because you actually sound like you came from New Delhi. At which point, someone pokes you and asks you to stay on topic, and you continue by saying that this story takes a tried and true serial stalker/killer idea and eats it up with a faba beans and a nice chianti.

Where Kurtz goes oh-so-very-right with this story is with his style and description. The delivery is sometimes stilted, but the description is just so juicy. Gorehounds will appreciate the delectably disgusting pieces offered up for the meal, and will shudder with delight as the main characters gets more than he bargains for. Beyond that, it’s like Kurtz channeled a wee bit of the old W.J. White nastiness, and created a creature I would love to see make an appearance in a longer work (hint, hint, Kurtz). This is a story that is disgusting, wrong, and twisted in every way. All the right ways.

Now Pearls, my dear friends, is another story altogether. It’s disgusting. I had a hard time reading it, have a hard time thinking about it, and seriously want to gag every time it pops into my head. And yeah… pun intended there. It’s gross-out fare, for sure.

I don’t even want to get into this one very deeply, but let’s just say that the main character suddenly gets a weird skin condition and has the unquenchable need to do something very, very gross. Ugh, my god.

Kurtz’s description is in overdrive here, making sure to remind people that horror isn’t just all about ghosts and goblins and monsters galore. Sometimes the horror is visceral, and sometimes it’s the strangest biological oddities that can make us cringe. Yeah, this is body horror, kids. A lá Ed Lee and all the nice folks outta Necro. Hell, I haven’t read something this gross since Night Shade Books’ Excitable Boys – a rarity that should appeal to anyone who enjoys puking in their mouth. Way to go, Kurtz. You owe me several drinks, dude. Yuck.

Roadbeds is a small pulp tale that first showed its wonderful face on Shotgun Honey’s website as a mystery short. I loved it there, and I still love it here. Kurtz is obviously able to jump around in several different genres, and this collection shows that fluidly. This tale, in particular, shows a side of the man that hasn’t really been seen before. His less visceral, and more straightforward style.

Maury and crew are working on a dig when two bruisers show up. Things get all Mob-like, and one thing definitely leads to another. This story is so short and has such a great formulaic ending that I can’t even describe it here. It kicks ass for a little 3-4 pager. You’ll have to check it out for yourself.

Kurtz decides to go a different route with the next story, Earworm. This one sees the man playing in a land of musical torture, making life very difficult for his main character, and pretty much anyone who happens to be infected by this deadly little ditty from hell. Shit, we’ve all been there. Just thankfully not in Kurtz’s world… cause then we’d be dead.

Going from a great premise that plays with the idea of songs kicking your ass, Kurtz waltzes back into a land of pain pain pain, deciding that his story puppets going crazy isn’t enough to satisfy his lust for death, and all probably because he’s had a bad day at work and wants someone to suffer for it. Okay, that last bit may be stretching the truth, but I wouldn’t put it past any horror writer to kill the ever loving hell out of anyone who pisses them off on a Monday. Well… except for John R. Little. He’s just always so happy when I meet him.

Kurtz has all the time in the world to drag you through what you think is going to be a fairly straightforward story, but obviously hasn’t the patience to put up with your constant jabbering for such a long car trip. Once he’s set the tone for this story, it’s GO!GO!GO! with no letting up. This, my good readers, is a Kurtz trademark. He ensnares you, beats you about the head with everything he’s got, and once you think it’s all over…

…he kills you in a story called Krampus. Well, not you… Me.

Yeah. We’ve been here before, haven’t we? Let’s just look through the DT posts here… won’t be a minute…

Doot doo-doo doo dooooooo….

Um… nope. Haven’t told you folks about this one yet, have I?

Okay. Well, here goes.

Krampus is a nice little Christmas tale about a young boy who hasn’t been very good this year. He’s made to spend the holiday with his Oma, and with the help of her friend Nicholas, she intends to show the boy what bad kids get for Christmas. Oh yeah, and she’s going to have me completely destroyed in a gory festival of awesome!

I was ridiculously stoked when I read this one. No joke. I’d checked it out back in December of 2011, when the skies were dark and my life wasn’t filled with so much… who the hell am I kidding. With four million kids running around and an empty bank account, this was pretty much the best thing that happened that whole holiday season, apart from seeing the kid’s faces on Christmas morning. So you can pretty much understand where I’m coming from if my whole review of this story consists of “buy this book… read this book… love this boooooook.”

In fact, you can go snag yourself a copy of Krampus for free if you’re diligent enough and know how to use google like the naughty little thing that it is.

Anyways, what we’re looking at here is a tried and true Kurtz tale, but with a holiday twist. Couple that with a scary, thick accented beast of a woman, a weird old man, a little Canadian jerk (me) and a boy who just doesn’t know when it’s time to throw in the towel and will yourself to die, and you’ve got the best story this side of Scrooged. The gore is a-plenty, the hilarity is as black as my soul, and the pace is set at a break-neck speed and refuses to stop. Until it stops. At which point… shit… I’m dead anyways, so it just stops.

And now that you’ve slogged through 2400+ words of insanity, you might as well go pony up the couple bucks and get a taste of someone who I’m sure is going to kick the genre’s ass in the coming years. Hell, I know he has a story or two out there waiting for publication. I think maybe it’s just a matter of time before Kurtz takes Control of the situation and brings this genre to new heights. And me, I’ll be sitting right here waiting. Bring it on, Kurtz.


Catch My Killer: The First Sam Truman Mystery by Ed Kurtz

First off, anyone who’s anyone knows I have a literary hard-on for Kurtz’s writing style. The man has a flow that just leaves me humming like a lady in a Billy Idol song (wanting more more more, for those of you who live under a rock). But how the hell was I to know that he’d be throwing down with a hardboiled/horror crossover when I read Bleed and Rust & Blood?

I had no freakin’ clue. But damn was I excited to see what this man might pull out of his hat next.

From the first word of this series hitting the streets I was sold on it. But truth be told, I can also tell you that the potential for this venture scared the shit out of me. Here’s an author that I admire; two genres that I adore; and a whole lot of “what the hell is gonna happen if I hate this?” roaming around in my head. It made for some semi (but only figuratively) sleepless nights in camp-Colum-land, I’ll tell ya.

But goddamn was I happy when I cracked this sucker open and read the first few “pages” (I’ll explain my hatred of the Kindle “pages” some other time, dear reader). Not only does Kurtz’s style survive the time travel to the 1960s, but it almost seems like it belongs there. The man can throw his punches in different eras, folks. At the end of this little novella, I was left stoked and (again) jonesing more. It’s a good thing this series is planned to go on for a while, cause I haven’t had enough yet.

Sam Truman is a disgraced and unlicensed former private investigator without a proverbial pot to piss in. During a morning mission to scrape up enough bread to pay his rent at the flophouse, Sam intervenes in an attempted armed robbery and ends up shooting the thief to death with a gun he isn’t legally permitted to possess. In the aftermath of the shooting, Sam is visited by the bloody corpse of the dead robber, which is now being inhabited by the spirit of a murdered woman who charges Sam with the task of solving her murder.

Now Sam is up to his neck in a dark underworld of walking corpses, black magic, and Hell’s own army, and all because he agreed to a dead woman’s plea to “Catch My Killer!

– from

This premise sounds very familiar if you’re a frequent flier in the mystery or serial detective stories of yesteryear. The main difference here is… well… it’s modernized, but it’s also a throwback. Let me explain that statement.

Kurtz does everything he can to set the tone and the vibe to match the era this story plays out in, but does so with today’s yearn for action, description, and flamboyant characters. As a character, Truman is truly a force to be reckoned with, but also shows a side that can be completely pitiable, and often times even laughable. Kurtz, while obviously caring deeply for his character on many levels, doesn’t shy away from kicking the crap out of him. I really haven’t seen a character this complex or likable in this sort of genre mash up since Lamberson’s Jake Helman Files, or Oliveri’s The Pack: Winter Kill.

Truman is a down and dirty ass-kicker with an attitude and set of skills that will make most envy his complete make up. I wish I had come up with this character. I really do. I’m envious as hell, and feel as if a new bar has been set in terms of main, anti-hero type characters. I can only imagine Truman taking on a Hawkeye Pierce kind of role in this genre, and look forward to seeing what the future authors of the series will do with him.

As for Kurtz’s bad guys… let’s just say that I was almost peeing myself when he brought them out in this badass little novella. Not in the “scared as hell” kind of peeing, but the “I’m so stoked that he went there” kind. Well, that’s if you catch my drift… let’s stop talking about pee, shall we?

The baddies are immense in this piece, playing on a level field to Truman’s larger than life persona and holding their ground well. I’m a huge fan of the Satanic Panic era of fiction and film, so the evil-doers in this book sat well with me, indeed. From evil shadows to body jumping demon-things, this book is filled with awesome supernatural oddities and more fun than you can shake a stick at. What I would have like to see more of, however, is Kurtz’s signature over the top style, which he’s toned down for what I can only assume is the limits of the time period. Kurtz more than makes up for this shortcoming with a healthy dose of go-go-go and a smattering of gloriously grotesque gore on the side (albeit as a small side dish). It’s really easy to get sucked into this one and find that your breakfast is forever ruined in the toaster. *sigh*

The Truman Series is a promising offering from Abattoir Press, and something I know will feature prominently in the horror literature landscape for years to come. When people ask what mash ups and cross genre fiction are supposed to read like, you can sure as hell bet that I’m going to be pointing them this way first. Kurtz has really hit his stride, and I can only see things going up from here.

Grab yourself a copy of the first Truman Mystery, Catch My Killer!, at Amazon in Kindle format, and keep an eye out for the second Truman Mystery, The Last Invasion, which drops on May 1st.


Bloody Bytes: Digital Deals & Steals

On this week’s edition of Bloody Bytes we have the scoop on free samples, a couple cool websites, and a few good deals to celebrate this extended labor day weekend (well, for some of you in the U.S.A.) Check ’em out beyond the break!

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Fresh Faces: Bleed by Ed Kurtz


At the beginning of each month we will take a look at some very promising genre talent that you may not have heard of- fresh faces, if you will. These authors will be names to watch out for in the future so check them out so you can say, “Ah yes, I remember reading them back in the day.”

Have you ever been watching a really good horror film and you can just tell that the filmmakers were absolutely in love with the genre? It’s a good feeling, right? It’s like we are part of some special community where we are all just fans. That happens to me all of the time with film but it is rare that I get that feeling from a novel. Well Ed Kurtz has given me that feeling with his debut novel, Bleed. Ed knows what horror fans want because, at his core, he loves and understands the genre.

When Walt Blackmore moves into an old gable front house on the outskirts of a small town, things are really looking up for him; he has an adoring girlfriend to whom he plans to propose, a new job teaching English at the local high school, and an altogether bright future. His outlook and destiny are irreparably changed, however, when an unusual 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 grows, Walt finds himself more and more interested in fostering its well-being. At first he only feeds it stray animals so that the blood-hungry monster can survive, but this soon fails to satisfy the creature’s ghastly needs. It is gradually becoming human again, 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. 

The audience has a front-row seat as Walt slowly begins his descent into the unthinkable. As the mysterious stain grows so does Walt’s insanity. Bleed is a slow-build with a quick pace. I know that sounds a bit contradictory but the pacing within each chapter is extremely quick while the chapters themselves build slowly to the climax. It is a very interesting dynamic that certainly helps Bleed deliver the scares while building a fantastic amount of tension.

As Walt loses his mind and the stain takes on a more recognizable form, Kurtz brings the scares. I found myself honestly frightened at what may be waiting for me on the next page. Kurtz picks off “safe” characters with reckless (and grisly) abandon so you never get “comfortable” within the story. Again, this is a testament to Kurtz’s ability to masterfully understand and manipulate the conventions of the genre.
With all of the scares on display, do you know what really got me? The noises. Kurtz saves his most descriptive prose to describe the sickly noises throughout the novel. Whether it is the creaking bedsprings in the intense prologue or the slurping and sucking sounds that emanate from the stain as it begins to take shape, these sounds add to the terror more than any amount of blood and gore ever could.

Bleed is a very simple novel done exceptionally well. Kurtz knows how to take a safe setting and few characters and twist it into an unpredictable mass of blood and scares. Kurtz is certainly a name to keep an eye out for in the future. I know I’ll be waiting with bated breath for his next release.