"Rough Music" by Simon Kurt Unsworth

Rough Music

(Spectral Press Chapbook Series #5)

Simon Kurt Unsworth

Spectral Press (2012)

28 pages

I've had the good fortune to read and review the first four chapbooks from Spectral Press, so when I received a review copy of their fifth I was really looking forward to seeing what they were offering to readers this time around. As it turns out, Simon Kurt Unsworth brings a literary horror romp that acts almost like a prelude to his impending collection of stories that will be coming out through Spectral Press next year. The guy already has quite a few collections and anthology contributions to his credit, and after reading this story it's pretty clear that I need to find more of Simon's work.

This story, clocking in a little over twenty pages long, involves a married man named Cornish who wakes up in the middle of the night to sound of wood banging on metal somewhere outside his townhouse. He looks out his window to the street below and sees a man wearing a bulbous-shaped mask over his head, dancing a little jig, and banging a wooden spoon on a pot. The guy does this for a while then takes a bow and disappears into the darkness. Imagine seeing that outside your window. Strange shit, right? Well, it escalates.

As the nights press on and the racket outside becomes louder and louder, Cornish learns that his wife doesn't hear a thing, in fact it seems like he's the only guy on the block who can hear the cacophonous concert in the middle of the street. Each night, the strange man in the mask is joined by more and more masked performers until it winds up there is a play of sorts that is playing out each night, and Cornish realizes that it echoes facets of his own life, and the masks resemble those of his neighbors and friends. At the same time, his relationship with his wife is reinvigorated and more passionate after months of a wedge between them, in the wake of a transgression on his part. But the disturbing music and dancing outside his house, despite whatever influence it is having on his mood and relationship with his wife, it depriving him of his sleep--and maybe his sanity.

Yet again, Spectral Press finds a gem of subtlety and escalating strangeness to offer readers. I was really impressed with the way Simon used the mirroring of Cornish's life with the mummer performance outside his window. The ending was a bit abrupt, but it definitely achieved the kind of awkward terror I think he was aiming for. I'll definitely have to keep an eye out for more of his work in the future.

"Black-Eyed Kids" by Ian Rogers

Black-Eyed Kids

by Ian Rogers

Burning Effigy Press (2011)

60 pages

ISBN 9781926611136

Canada isn't all maple syrup and ice hockey, you know. We've got monsters too, and Ian Rogers is a guy who knows how to shine a spotlight on them. I've already been entertained by the first two novellas in his Felix Renn series through Burning Effigy Press, so I was interested to see if Black-Eyed Kids would make it a trifecta.

If you haven't read my reviews of the first two books, which I posted on this blog, you can check those out by clicking on the links: Temporary Monsters and The Ash Angels.

One of the nice things about this series though, is the fact that you don't necessarily need to read the first two to hop on the bandwagon. You could start with the third and get caught up with the main story points in short order.

This time around, Felix is doing some work in Toronto that is much more mundane and far less life-threatening--for a while, anyway. He's been hired by a guy to keep an eye on his wife whom is suspected of being unfaithful, but while Felix has her apartment staked out she is murdered right under his nose--cut in half with the lower half missing, and there's no sign of anyone coming or going. It doesn't take long to realize there is something supernatural going on, as that sort of thing seems to just gravitate to ol' Felix. A big clue that things are on the paranormal side of things is when two kids, a boy and a girl, begin stalking him. Maybe not so disturbing when put like that, but these kids are Village of the Damned caliber creepy thanks to eyes that are orbs of pure black. When Felix finds out the kids are connected to the murder, he also learns the guy who hired him isn't who he says he is, and there's been more than one death linked to those kids.

Whoa Nelly, this one was a dark treat to read. The first two books certainly had their fair share of sinister vibes, but there was more--how do I put it?--rollickingness. No that's not right. Maybe sardonic tone is what I mean. Felix is the kind of guy who will let his world-weary side shine through. This time around there isn't a lot of room for that, because his life is in imminent danger even more than the last two times. The story is the most intense of the three with a threat that Felix comes to believe he can't defeat. Everything plays out really well with an episodic quality I've come to expect and appreciate from Ian's work.

I think this would have to be Ian's strongest effort yet of the three novellas published so far, which bodes well for future iterations, including a Felix Renn novel that's apparently in the works. If you enjoy gritty urban fantasy, this should be right up your alley.

"The Ash Angels" by Ian Rogers

The Ash Angels

by Ian Rogers

Burning Effigy Press (Sept 2010)

40 pages

ISBN 9781926611099

I blogged a month or two ago about the first novella in Ian Roger's gritty urban fantasy, the Felix Renn series. I quite like the hard-boiled blending with dark fantasy and a dash of the Great White North for flavor. Well, I got around to reading the second installment, The Ash Angels, and while the book could work as a stand-alone I thought it a good follow-up to the impressive debut.

It's Christmas time, and while Felix and his ex-wife are civil to each other these days, he'd rather be alone--and drunk. He needs something festive for a chaser while home alone, so he heads out to find some eggnog and wides up with a mystery involving piles of ash shaped like angels. It's a case that leads him from a funeral home and ultimately to a familiar location from his recent past, all the while trying to keep from winding up like the ashen corpses he finds.

The Ash Angels has the same hard-boiled approach to urban fantasy that I've come to enjoy from several authors, and Ian has a great character with Felix Renn to explore this world he's created. That said. this second installment didn't come off quite as strong as the debut effort. The curse of the sophomore book in a series, I suppose. It's not bad, quite the contrary actually, but with such a powderkeg as Temporary Monsters, I had my hopes set really high on this one. Still a satisfying read, and I'm eager to read the third installment, Black-Eyed Kids, in the near future, which Ian intimated is his strongest work of the three. Good to know.

If you're not on board the Felix Renn bandwagon, and you're a fan of gritty urban fantasy, I suggest you remedy that.

"Four Live Rounds" by Blake Crouch

Four Live Rounds

by Blake Crouch

self-published by Blake Crouch (2010)

ASIN B003BEEAD0

Merry Christmas to me, because quite a few authors I had on my watch list offered free e-books on the Kindle Store this past Christmas. Blake Crouch was chief among them, I dare say, as he had several listed as freebies for a week or two. I think I downloaded them all, including this collection of four short stories. Four Live Rounds was my first time reading Blake's work that was not a collaboration with another author, so I was very interested to see how good he did on his own compared to the thrillrides he writers with J.A. Konrath and others.

"*69" starts with an interesting concept: what if someone's cell phone inadvertently called you while that person was committing a murder? Pretty creepy, especially if you've ever gotten one of those odd calls where there's no one on the other line, but you can hear something like breathing or some kind of commotion. In Blake's story, after the initial phone call, there's a quaintness to the married couple pondering who might have called and whether they actually overheard someone's murder. But the story quickly ramps up as their suspicions escalate and their actions to learn the truth cross a couple of lines. A really strong opener for this collection.

"Remaking" is a tragic bit of work strikes a nerve considering the number of times you hear about a child abduction on the six-o-clock news. If I had to pick a runt from this litter of stories, "Remaking" would be it, but it's still one that kept me hooked until the end because the man's torment and how it threatened the safety of the child was chilling.

"On the Good, Red Road" is a western that acts as a prelude of sorts to a novel of Blake's called Abandon. A man tries to make his way to a mining town, but winds up in the couple of a trio of outlaws. Things are tense enough as the guy tries to gauge how best to get away from the villains, but when a sudden blizzard leaves them stranded and starving in the middle of nowhere, that's when it really turns into a nail-biter.

"Shining Rock" struck me as a story with a really strong start and finish, but there was a piece in the middle that strained my credulity. A married couple are on a romantic excursion in the bucolic fields of a park called Shining Rock, and are approached by a lone man from a neighboring campsite who at first seems off-putting with his large knife, but ultimately charms them with smalltalk and pricey booze. But there's something about the lone man and his brief tale of tragedy during drunken chatter that sets the husband on edge and has him wanting to flee the park as soon as possible. I really liked the story overall, but there was one aspect of the wife's reaction to her husband's revelation that didn't feel believable to me. Aside from that, it was probably my favorite story of the four.

It's a nice, quick hodgepodge for anyone who'd care to check out Blake's work for the first time. A little bit of everything, from western to psychological thriller, to horror. There's a larger collection on the Kindle Store called Fully Loaded, which includes these four stories and a bunch more (his collaboration with J.A. Konrath, Serial, among them), so I'll have to check that out sometime, too.

'Red Penny Papers' (Fall 2011)

I can't remember exactly when it was I discovered Red Penny Papers, but I can tell you it's been a welcome source for short fiction from day one. Stories by Aaron Polson, Camille Alexa, Natalie Sin, and others have provided me with no shortage of creepy, fun stories--and all of them for free.

The Red Penny Papers fall edition presented five short stories from authors who are all brand new to me. "Arkady's Apprentice" by S.J. Hirrons was a rather stirring tale of magic and legacy with a magician, his apprentice, and his son. The side-note at the end of this story, where Hirrons writing instructors apparently dismissed this story as unpublishable. Whoops. That's some writing school.

Next was "So Long, Warren" by Ash Krafton, a devilish mix of noir and the supernatural, which is one of my favorite combinations these days. "Iron Jack" by Mark Rossmore was interesting with its decomposing marriage and the automated servant tearing the couple apart.

"Oni wa Soto" by Sara Kate Ellis would probably be classified as my favorite of the bunch. A story about a devil with a crisis at the workplace. The Japanese setting, along with the undercurrent of dark humor, really resonated with me. Good stuff. And then "Janitors of the Cosmos" by William Vitka finished off the collection. This one could be classified as the strangest of all five stories, bordering on the surreal, as a "god" exterminator roams the universe hunting down various incarnations of deities who still cling to their would-be worshippers.

If you'd like to check these stories out, you find them all on Red Penny Papers' website. I managed to get this in November when Katey the editor pointing me towards an e-book edition--for free! It might still be available, so if you prefer e-books over reading from your web browser, I highly recommend going that route.

Just checked on Smashwords and it's still available free of charge: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/85230

"King Death" by Paul Finch (Spectral Press Chapbook Vol. 4)

It's pretty hard to imagine the rampant disease and death and quite literally plagued Europe, even the world, during the 14th century. Perhaps the centuries have mythologized the Black Death to a point that it's simply hard to comprehend. Hell, judging by the degree to which the public at large loses their damn minds when the evening news mentions a flu outbreak, a bonified pandemic wouldn't have to hit us physically--the world would be crippled on a psychological level. So think back to a time when our modern medical marvels didn't exist, but an engrained acceptance of the supernatural did. What would that world really look like?

Well, Paul Finch shines a spotlight on one patch of England, as a con man roams the country side exploiting death and superstition by parading himself as King Death himself. Rodric is out to plunder a devastated territory for whatever meager gain he can get. After all, who's going to stop them when everyone is too busy dying?

That's kind of a simplistic summary of Rodric and his motives, and when he encounters and orphaned lad with a chip on his shoulder, Rodric's motives are given a real test.

The story itself weighs in around twenty pages, but that's plenty of time to set the stage and the stakes. Some of the language is a bit of a chore to get through for a dullard like me who doesn't read historical fiction that stretches much further beyond the 18th century. Fortunately, there's a glossary at the end of the book, so a quick glance at that and I was off to the races.

This is the first time I've read Paul Finch's work and walked away impressed, showing Spectral Press has a good eye for picking out short fiction to feature in their chapbook series. Paul apparently has a helluva lot more work out there, so I'm going to have to look up some more of his work down the road.

The Spectral Press Chapbooks Volumes 1-3

Spectral Press started out this year as a new imprint dedicated to short works of horror fiction, inspired by the classic tales of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, while still looking forward for today's brightest writers with new ideas and new approaches to instilling terror in readers. But, with three issues now out, how close have they come to backing up their claims of providing high quality stories?

What They Hear in the Dark by Gary McMahon

I've got a brand new Gary McMahon novel sitting on my bookshelf waiting to be read, but for some reason I haven't put it at the top of the heap. After reading this story, maybe I ought to reconsider. A married couple buy a big ol' house in the wake of their young son's death. It's a fixer-upper, it'll keep them busy, help them get some closure. But we all know closure is hard to come by, especially when the house you move into has a room that shouldn't exist. The Quiet Room.

I am a sucker for a haunted house story, and this was is one of the best I've read in the last year or more. Rob and Becky, the couple living in the house, offer two stark views of the room and what it means to each of them. Rob hears absolutely nothing, barely his own thoughts, but feels a sinister force somewhere inside the room whenever he is inside it. While Becky has convinced herself the spirit of their dead son is in there. Whether there is something in the room or whether Rob and Becky are projecting pieces of themselves into its void, that's one of the questions that lingers.

The Abolisher of Roses by Gary Fry

I'm unfamiliar with Gary Fry's work, this being my first chance to read his stuff, and it seems I will have to make it a point to find more. His story revolves around Peter, a stodgy businessman, who winds up being dragged by his wife Patricia to an outdoor art exhibit. He'd rather be off cavorting with his mistress, but entertaining his wife's interests from time to time seems to keep the marriage together. But, Peter strays from his wife and the lone path in the gardens out of frustration and discovers artwork that feels too macabre and too personal to belong with the rest of the exhibit.

This was easily the creepiest of the three volumes, as Fry's story gives a bit of the ol' down-the-rabbit-hole vibe, as Peter wanders further into the woods. The guy has such an alienated reaction to the mediocre art he is used to seeing, that when he sees the grotesque and uncomfortably intimate artwork he finds off the beaten path, poor old Peter's sanity has trouble maintaining a foothold. For the mere idea of liberal arts driving a stuffed-shirt conservative to the brink is enough to make me enjoy this one, but Fry goes a wee bit further in scope with this story.

Nowhere Hall by Cate Gardner

The men in pinstripe suits aren't the only strange things populating Cate Gardner's imagination. With Nowhere Hall she offers up a building as unsettling and unraveling as Stephen King's Overlook Hotel--The Vestibule.

Ron is having an off day. So off, in fact, he's contemplating a slow walk through busy traffic. But instead of stepping off the curb, he turns back towards the gleaming white hotel at his back, the Vestibule. Drawn to it, both by a want for shelter and the allure of a beautiful woman who steps inside, Ron goes inside after catching a mysterious umbrella that fell into his waiting hand. Inside, the surreal goes up another notch, with the hotel appearing abandoned and brand new at the same time, mannequins seem to come to life, and the hotel's concierge knows more than he's letting on.

Where Gary Fry's story had a bit of the Alice in Wonderland, Cate's story had it by the bowlful. Nowhere Hall felt like the kind of story Rod Serling would have written if he had a poet's heart--and a hit of LSD. It's a sad song sung slightly off-key, which manages to make it all the more haunting.

"Serial" by Jack Kilborn and Blake Crouch

Serial

by Jack Kilborn (aka J.A. Konrath) and Blake Crouch (aka Blake Crouch)

Norwood Press signed limited edition (2009)

64 pages

I had a free PDF copy of this novella from J.A. Konrath's website, but I never got around to reading it until I won a physical copy from The Man Eating Bookworm. As it stands, I really should have read it as soon as I had that PDF--but I hate reading books in that format.

The story is dead simple: what if two incredibly efficient, undeniably psychopathic serial killers crossed paths, and targeted each other without realizing they were cut from the same cloth?

The answer: mayhem.

Donaldson is a killer whose preferred prey is any hitchhiker on a lonely stretch of highway that catches his eye. He doesn't fuss with knives or guns, though. Nope, he's got a customized kill wagon with reinforced steel behind the plush dashboard that a lot of damage. If you've ever seen Deathproof, and the car Kurt Russell drives, just imagine a family friendly version of that. Then, there's Lucy, who is just the sweetest little thing you ever did see--and she knows it. She winds up being Donaldson next hitchhiker, since she's the kind of killer who gets off on luring men to pick her up from the side of the road, so she can take them somewhere secluded and torture the holy hell out of them.

Donaldson and Lucy were born to meet.

The collaboration worked really well between Konrath and Crouch, with Joe creating Donaldson and Blake creating Lucy, then pitting the two characters against each other. Kind of like a demented literary form of playing Mortal Kombat. It's a tautly woven novella with nothing extra to clutter up the carnage. Definitely a fun, fast read for horror and thriller fans alike.

Since it was originally published, there's been a sequel put out, as well as an "uncut" version of each, even put together in an omnibus e-book on the Kindle Store and other places. If the extended version is as good as this, I'll definitely have to look out for it.

"The Black God's War" by Moses Siregar: a novella introducing a new epic fantasy

This was a free novella I snagged through the Amazon Kindle Store. It's epic fantasy, which is not a genre I have found much enjoyment in over the years despite my efforts. Siregar's method of promotion intrigued me, though: promote the epic novel, which is due for release in August, by offering fifteen of the early chapters for free that provide their own storyline and give a clear sense of what to expect from the longer work.

While the novel is bound to include a multitude of characters, the novella concentrate's mainly on a brother and sister, Ciao and Lucia. The story begins as Lucia, then a child, witnesses the celebration of her infant brother's birth, hoisted by their father King Vieri before an adulating and exulting crowd. Ciao is heralded as the kingdom's savior-of-sorts, literally the son King Vieri has always wanted. Though, when the story jumps ahead to Ciao's adolescence, he's a healer rather than a warrior cast as the role of the King's lead general in a long-running war against a neighboring kingdom.

For what amounts to a snippet of a larger work, the story presented holds up and has a good pace to it. Siregar's strongest suit may be the character development on display, as the royal siblings and a few other characters exude their personalities and frailties in a believable fashion. Throw in some intriguing magical elements and this is a story I might actually invest a good amount of time in by reading the eight-five chapter novel.

@#$% me, eight-five chapters?

The Sad Tale of the Brothers Grossbart by Jesse Bullington

The Sad Tale of The Brothers Grossbart - Jesse Bullington (Orbit - 2009)

I must admit that I am a sucker for good-covers, though I am aware of that age-old cliche that judging a book solely on its artistic representation can prove to be a waste of time as well as hard-earned money -- and let's face it, in this day and age hard-earned money is definitely something not to waste. However, when a book does come along with such an alluring design what other indicators does one have that such a book might prove interesting? After all, if the publishing company was willing to spend money on not only the book/author but the cover/artist as well -- especially during these trying times for publishing houses -- then perhaps it is alright to judge a book by its cover?

As such, how could one possibly ignore The Sad Tale of the Brothers Grossbart by Jesse Bullington when their (the reader[s]) eyes fall upon this illustrious cover? What appears to be a skull eventually comes into visual clarity as a pseudo-mish-mashing seek-and-find -- the skull is actually two men standing side by side, with satchels and shovels, whereabouts various artifacts are strewn. So yes, I was drawn towards this novel. I studied its cover for awhile before finally flipping it over to the back whereby I was intrigued by the synopsis and the tag-line: "We ain't thieves and we ain't killers, we's just good men been done wrong" (Bullington).

So, without any further inquiry into the matter I purchased the novel by newcomer Jesse Bullington at full retail price, taking a chance that the story wouldn't disappointment -- seeing as the cover didn't. I must say it was a gamble which paid off, but not handsomely so. While I did enjoy the story overall, and absolutely loved the characters (the brothers as it were), I grew rather bored of the novel about three-fourths of the way through. It wasn't as if I trudged through the book, finding it boring or taxing, but rather I found the scenes and themes inane. It was as if the adventure never stopped, but not in a fantastical way (i.e. epic adventures and long journeys), but rather in an overtly redundant way. It's almost as if the book could have ended several chapters earlier, or lasted several chapters longer.

The story was just the same scenario one after another. The brothers travel, the brothers face a foe, the brothers triumph. But for what? What are its morals or themes? There were religious contemplations, as well as pondering philosophically on justice and righteousness, but did such postulations deserve to last as long as they did; or for that matter end so abruptly? In the end, a better conclusion could have been reached one way or the other. Instead, what we're left with is a story a third of the way into the book which doesn't wrap-up until a few hundred pages later, adding nothing new but more dialogue conversing the same moral questions over and over and over and over and over with an overabundance of expletives. However, I am left to wonder if that's not the sad tale of the Grossbart . . . that life is monotonous, no matter what monsters you may face?

Overall, I liked the book and found it an enjoyable read and would recommend it to any fan of fantasy seeking monsters, gruesome battles, medieval history, religious inquires, and a lot of f___ing expletives.

Suffice it to say . . . Good Book, Good Read.

"Orpheus and the Pearl" by Kim Paffenroth

This is one of two novellas that appear in the first volume of Belfire Press's "Duel" Novella Series. You can learn more about this series by visiting Belfire Press. Look for my review of David Dunwoody's Nevermore tomorrow.

Whenever I hear tell of Kim Paffenroth, it's usually in the context of the zombie genre. The man knows zombies. And given this was the first time I've had a chance to read his work, I was fully expecting some gruesome undead fare. And while there is a character risen from the dead in Orpheus and the Pearl, she is not a zombie--at least it's not explicitly stated that she is.

Set in the backdrop of Massachusetts during the early twentieth century, Dr. Catherine MacGuire is called to the residence of Dr. Percy Wallston on an urgent matter concerning one of his patients, a woman in dire need of psychoanalysis. MacGuire is versed in the teaching of Freud and the workings of the mind, a relatively new form of the science, which is exactly why she was chosen by Wallston. To her dismay, she learns the patient is Wallston's wife, Victoria. All the more unsettling is that Victoria died--or was at least said to have died. In fact, Dr. Wallston has resurrected Victoria with startling, violent results, and he desperately needs Dr. MacGuire to find a way to have his old wife back rather than the ravenous and malicious creature he has sequestered in his home.

Paffenroth's story evokes some of that old world charm, as a horrific affliction is shown against a quaint backdrop. It's the whole juxtaposition of the prim and proper engaging in macabre acts. But it's not an entirely gruesome story, and rather relies more on the tensions between Dr. MacGuire and the Wallstons, both in their interactions with each other and MacGuire's past creeping into the back of her mind. And the ending is not at all what I initially expected, which is good in one sense, but on the other hand the end result felt a bit too--I don't want to say chipper, so let's go with neat and tidy.

All in all, it's a good little story. Something off the beaten path from the onslaught of gory depictions of the undead, and the historical setting resonated much better with me than when I read Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. If you like tales of the undead with a strong emotional core, this might be the kind of story you'll want to check out.