Starting this middling 3-star review with a caveat: this novella series is one of my favorites. I love the main character and I love the dry 3.5 stars
Starting this middling 3-star review with a caveat: this novella series is one of my favorites. I love the main character and I love the dry humor in the writing. But I wanted more from this latest romp in the rural woods…
If you haven't read What Moves the Dead, stop here and go back to that one. It's the first in this novella "series" and while they do count as standalones...technically... I think the first one is fantastic and everyone should read it first.
Cool, they're gone right? Now onto this second installment.
*****
Alex Easton is a retired soldier from the fictional country of Gallacia. It gives me Romania / Eastern Europe / Russia vibes, but truly who knows what the author was visualizing when they crafted this setup. Either way, Easton exists in the 1800s era and they have a penchant for finding themselves in horrifying situations.
In Easton's first sojourn into the dark corners of folklore, they encountered mushroom-based horror in England in a truly twisted retelling of the Fall of the House of Usher.
In this second tale, they're back with their companion Angus and they're tackling something on the home front: their own rural hunting lodge in the Gallacian woods.
There's something sinister in the woods...
Call me cautious, but I'm stopping the introductions there. Slim novellas only have so many pages to share their tale, so I like to keep it short and sweet in my review to maintain some hints of surprise.
So, as someone who LOVED What Moves the Dead and touted it as "Mexican Gothic concept but better," I have to admit that this second Easton novella let me down.
I think it was a combination of a boring horror concept—boring to me, anyway—and a weird sense of aimlessness to the storytelling. The first novella had a very firm grip on its pacing. I was never bored, and I didn't put it down. This one was both very easy to put down and also felt like Easton was just...existing on the page, with no real forward momentum despite being slowly surrounded by the horror element.
All in all, I enjoyed more time spent with Easton and their friends—but I'm looking forward to a more compelling advance next time. (Hopefully there is a next time?)
Something new?? LOVE. This unique horror novella hits on multiple levels while hiding behind the facade of a stereotypical concept.
Concept: ★★4 stars
Something new?? LOVE. This unique horror novella hits on multiple levels while hiding behind the facade of a stereotypical concept.
Concept: ★★★★ Execution of themes: ★★★★★ Enjoyment: ★★★★
I think at our core, us horror readers are newness junkies. We like to be surprised, titillated, and/or intrigued by the "new" factor of the horror element we're reading. To enjoy horror is to, at a basic level, enjoy the constant chase for the unique.
Which makes it a very hard genre for writers, I can only imagine, as there's only so much "new" one can do. And there's that popular phrase with some truth to it, "nothing new under the sun," etc. etc. etc.
So when we find that new (pun intended) release that has something we've never read before?? Bliss. That's the spot.
Linghun hits that spot.
To call this novella a "horror" book is a bit reductive. It's also a nuanced study into the immigrant experience and a deep, dark dive into the hellscape of grief permutation. But it's also a horror in that it involves social horror, haunted homes, and the scary transformations of grief.
Go into this one blind and be open to something that isn't "SCARY" but is horrifying in its own way.
A raging manifesto of creation and unmaking at the hands of a woman trapped in the bindings of Victorian misogyny. What a treat!
Concept: ★★★★ Pacing: ★A raging manifesto of creation and unmaking at the hands of a woman trapped in the bindings of Victorian misogyny. What a treat!
Concept: ★★★★ Pacing: ★★★ Characters: ★★★★
If you are a fan of The Death of Jane Lawrence, you're going to love this book. If you are a fan of Mary Shelley and her early science fiction horror genius, you're going to love this book. And if you're someone filled with rage at the patriarchy and the hypocrisy of cis-het men—especially Victorian men—you're going to LOVE this book.
I enjoyed the hell out of this reading experience. (I also fit all three of those bills above, so that shouldn't be a surprise.)
Mary Frankenstein is the great-niece of Victor Frankenstein. Yes, that Frankenstein, the one who created the monster and died in the Artic along with his creation.
This novel takes the premise of Shelley's original and asks: what if we followed a woman, and what if it was at the height of the paleontology boom in Victorian London? What creature would a woman fascinated by dinosaurs try to create if given the notes of one overlooked horrific genius?
Oh yeah, folks. This combines Frankenstein with dinosaurs. And not in a hoaky, campy way—in a Gothic, academic, and distinctly sinister way.
Our Hideous Progeny was a novel I didn't know I wanted until I started reading it. Following a distinctly queer and feminine lens, this was a different kind of Gothic reading experience and grounded in an intriguing blend of real history—the scientists and research mentioned are real—and the fantastical with the infusion of Frankenstein and his family picking up on the legacy of brutal creation.
The themes of this novel hit HARD. Be warned that the author pulls very few punches when it comes to misogyny, female rage, unresolved queer identities, the dead and dying, ethics of creation, murder, and more.
I appreciated the author's deft hand at these topics and the utter ruthless and occasionally impotent rage of our protagonist, Mary. Mary was so viscerally depicted—I felt like I knew her, I was her, and I also wanted to soften her in order to see her succeed (which was honestly part of the problem that was highlighted in this novel: Mary didn't need to be soft, she needed to be treated with equality and she had no desire or ability to soften her rage).
The only thing that kept this novel from reaching an easy favorite read/five star reading experience was the pacing. Let's be honest... Our Hideous Progeny took a long time to get off the ground. And was quite slow in doing so. I wish the pacing had led to more plot, earlier, so that it was less of a slog to become invested in the characters.
This was so singular. I’ve never read another novella—let alone an under-100-page novella—like it. Post-apocalyptic, grief-stricken, intentionally mysThis was so singular. I’ve never read another novella—let alone an under-100-page novella—like it. Post-apocalyptic, grief-stricken, intentionally mysterious, and gloriously ressurrectioned.
Undead Folk is a novella that I found through various Instagram friends. Queer horror novella, all three are buzzwords for me. Of course I was going to pick this up.
It's 76 pages, so I REALLY can't talk about the plot because to do so would be to negate the reading experience.
So here are some thoughts:
I loved the intentionally vague descriptions, landscape, and setup. You're meant to be confused, yet intrigued, and I certainly was.
The undead/resurrection angle to this story was very cool. Again, vague to the point of frustration, but very to the point with its messaging and purpose.
Having this slim novel pack such a punch with its meditation on raw grief? Very well done.
Some minor qualms I did have, however, included the fact that I do wish this novella had been a wee bit longer. I would have loved something denser, longer, with more teeth. 150 pages instead of 76, for example. Both Ella and Amos needed more time, for me, to truly get to the bones of this narrative and unpack the seriously dark underbelly to this story. It was okay at this length, but I likely would have sobbed my eyes out if given more time to get connected to their character arcs.
This was actually pretty cool. I always keep my expectations low for my “freebie” books—you never know what you’re in for!—but every once in a while, This was actually pretty cool. I always keep my expectations low for my “freebie” books—you never know what you’re in for!—but every once in a while, one of them really shines. Smilin’ Sam’s Corn Maze is one of those winners.
Kind of unpolished in parts, but overall extremely solid and, unlike other novellas, truly gripping in story setup and sense of intrigue. I wanted to know the answers, and I didn’t want to stop reading until I found them out. ...more
I think the beauty of this collection is in its simplicity. It’s not complicated, it’s not hiding deep allegories in pretty phrases. The word “raw” keI think the beauty of this collection is in its simplicity. It’s not complicated, it’s not hiding deep allegories in pretty phrases. The word “raw” keeps bubbling to the top of my mind. “Uncomfortable” is a close second. LaRocca has a talent for the visceral and yet doesn’t rely on tricks of other horror genre titans to get to his end effect. Really interesting collection. Full review to come...more
I loved everything about this debut. Generational bonds between the women in one family line tied into one horror-tinged speculative debut with Cree CI loved everything about this debut. Generational bonds between the women in one family line tied into one horror-tinged speculative debut with Cree Canadian roots—what a novel.
Bad Cree snuck up on me. I saw the cover a few times in the store and it caught my eye. But I kept passing it by, until eventually I heard someone mention that it was a story about sisters and horror-based dreaming. Those two hooks grabbed me and i knew I needed to read this story.
Mackenzie keeps waking up from the same dream. This in itself isn't that odd—but the fact that she wakes up with pieces of that dream in her hand, in the real world, is odd. From twigs to the decapitated head of a crow, Mackenzie knows that a) this isn't normal and b) things are getting worse. And she's getting scared.
Her Cree family, with its deep roots to the Alberta land, are far away from Mackenzie's sad apartment in Vancouver. And Mackenzie realizes that maybe it's time to face the sadness and secrets awaiting her in her hometown...
Combining family secrets, Cree stories, and a persistent thread of endurance and love throughout, Bad Cree was a perfect read for me. I loved Mackenzie's journey. I was here for her pain, her grief, and her family's close bonds yet tangled relationships. Having such a strong novel about sisterhood tied to a speculative horror novel was a huge win for me.
Bad Cree's accessible writing and creeping sense of atmospheric dread catapulted this immediately into a new favorite read. Come for the intrigue of the "real" dreams, stay for the tension and family story. This isn't a slasher horror, or even a big bang reveal—it's a small story with deep roots.
Did I read a different book than everyone else? Those stellar reviews are making me feel like I missed the hype boat on something… This was fine, but Did I read a different book than everyone else? Those stellar reviews are making me feel like I missed the hype boat on something… This was fine, but I couldn’t see past some reader-specific flops for me.
Concept: ★★★★ Plot/Pacing: ★★★ Character setup: ★ Enjoyment: ★★★
A historical Western horror novel set on the United States/Mexico border in the 1800s, Vampires of El Norte is the kind of story that jumps out at you on the shelves.
A Western-style ranch novel... with vampires? A historical fiction Western novel that...doesn't center itself on the white experience? Both of these things were huge radar pings for me, and I knew I needed to try this story.
Nena is the daughter of a wealthy Mexican rancher, living the restricted life of a wealthy daughter during this time period. Her only source of excitement is her childhood best friend, Nestor, who is part of the ranch's live-in hired ranch help.
But one tragic night involving an unknown beast in the dark alters the course of Nena and Nestor's lives forever, and Nestor flees in the middle of the night thinking the worst.
When the two of them reconnect nine years later, Nena and Nestor are different people with different motivations. But their connection remains strong—for better or for worse—and they discover that they must put their personal issues aside to face a great threat from the Anglos encroaching on their land from the east.
Because their homeland and lifestyle is coming to an end if they can't stem this tide of white encroachment. And there's something moving in the dark...
Alright. So for the sake of avoiding plot spoilers, I will keep my personal reaction portion of the review relatively brief.
There were several things about Vampires of El Norte that I enjoyed—the atmospheric setting, the twist on the traditional Western novel experience, and the infusion of Mexican heritage and culture to the vampire canon.
However, there were a few quirks to this novel that, I'll be honest, really bothered me due to my personal reading tastes. THEY ARE LIGHT SPOILERS FOR THE BEGINNING OF THE NOVEL, SO STOP HERE if you don't want even the most mild of spoilers.
Gone?
Ok, so my largest issue that permeated throughout the entire reading experience was the inciting incident between Nena and Nestor. When Nena is brutally attacked as a child, Nestor thinks she's died. He literally flees into the night—worried that Nena's wealthy parents will seek retribution against him, which is valid—and he never returns. Nestor is gone for NINE YEARS. He does not confirm Nena's death, he does not talk to his family or grandmother for nine full years as they are still on Nena's ranch. He literally goes no contact and punishes himself for all of that time thinking his childhood best friend is dead.
Then, when he has to return to the ranch, he discovers that Nena is very much alive. (He never bothered to even write a letter to his Abuela to check??) And while Nena acts normal in response—she's pissed, he left and never bothered to come back/verify—the rest of the family, including Nestor's own Abuela, just takes this in stride?? I'm sorry, the logic isn't logic-ing.
I know I should have been able to put that aside and enjoy the rest of the novel for what it was, but I'll be honest. I wasn't able to get over it as it was the foundation of Nena and Nestor's adult relationship and the rest of the plot never eclipsed their relationship enough to allow me to forget. This was a highly romantic story and very character driven, so we were always focused on Nena and Nestor as a duo, and therefore I was constantly looking at this "rift" between them and just wishing we had a real problem instead.
But that being said, obviously I'm just one reader! And given the excitement and enjoyment that a lot of other people got out of this novel, I'm guessing that my weird logic gap was a unique experience and not the norm. So I do recommend this for my historical fiction friends who want an extremely light dash of horror.
I received this novella for free during the October 31 free ebook special for Halloween horror reads—I forget what the day was called, but i1.5 stars
I received this novella for free during the October 31 free ebook special for Halloween horror reads—I forget what the day was called, but it was all horror. Great idea, thrilled at the chance to try so many new authors and stories for free. Thank you to this author/publisher for having this book in that promotion!
Sadly, this one was a miss for me. Cool hook, I’m always a sucker for a podcast angle, but ultimately I found this story fell flat and relied a lot on telling vs. showing. ...more
Okay. First—I am not at ALL trying to direct this review toward the author as a person. I try to talk story first, concepts next, grammar/structure raOkay. First—I am not at ALL trying to direct this review toward the author as a person. I try to talk story first, concepts next, grammar/structure rarely if it calls for it (this last point is often tricky as it feels more personal, hence why I avoid it). But for this one I have to talk about it.
The literal construction of this novella was where it fell about for me and the rest followed. Badly constructed sentences that I often had to read twice to decipher. Sentences that switched between past and present tense indiscriminately within the same sentence—not within narrative to dialogue, either, but fully narrative sentences. And then some oddly stilted dialogue clinched the experience.
Not for me, but these issues might not bother another reader. And the art for this cover is stunning—5 stars to that designer!...more
Fun hook—two noir goons for hire, one undead and one not-dead—but at the end of the day, this didn’t grip me and I found myself Bored with a capital BFun hook—two noir goons for hire, one undead and one not-dead—but at the end of the day, this didn’t grip me and I found myself Bored with a capital B.
Concept: intriguing Plot/Pacing: pretty boring and propelled by dialogue Enjoyment: it was fine
The Pale House Devil is the story of two noir goons for hire. One of them has been dead for centuries. The other is a living man. Both of them spend their criminal lives as hit men and fixers. But then one job goes awry and these two friends find themselves persona non grata.
So they do what any duo would do—they hightail it to the opposite coastline and try their luck in California.
And once in California, they find themselves... still outta luck for work. So when they get a mysterious case from a mysterious woman, they feel compelled to take it despite the red flags. Beggars can't be choosers, after all.
To share any more of the plot would spoil this very slim novella, so I'll stop there and get right to the heart of the matter: this novella was the definition of "okay" for me.
Was it gripping? Initially, yes. But the choppy and terse dialogue grated on me after the first chapter, and the fact that most of this novella was spent on dialogue really took away from the experience of this story as a horror plot.
Was it worth the read? In short... no. At least not for me. I think that a certain readership interested in this kind of setup would enjoy it. I was not that reader—I needed more context, more development of the plot, and more action.
Well then. I haven’t felt that level of creeping, utter dread in quite some time—and certainly not while bathed in the surface level story of4.5 stars
Well then. I haven’t felt that level of creeping, utter dread in quite some time—and certainly not while bathed in the surface level story of a sunshine cottage core sapphic love story. This story isn’t about the shock of a reveal. It’s about the never-ending ceaseless anxiety of the trap closing softly around you. Too gentle to identify as a danger. Too inexorable to escape.
I'm not even going to describe this story, because I think it works best when you can experience the inescapable dread in real time.
Stunning novella. Polarizing if you think the “reveal” is meant to be the draw of the tale. Recommended highly to my other short/weird/queer horror fans.
Stripped to the essentials, crystalized characters and electric plot. What a novella.
Pacing: ★★★★ Sense of horror: ★★ Charisma: ★★★★★
Some stories just Stripped to the essentials, crystalized characters and electric plot. What a novella.
Pacing: ★★★★ Sense of horror: ★★ Charisma: ★★★★★
Some stories just have that "it" factor, you know?
Goddess of Filth is one of those. A group of young women get together one night. They host a seance of sorts, inviting the "old gods" to join them.
One of them does, and it possesses one of the young women. She writhes on the ground, totally unknown, and from that night on another being walks within her skin, showing itself with its caiman eyes (crocodile relative) and its odd ways.
And when the young women/demonic hybrid starts to showcase disturbing trends of femininity and agency mixed with revengeful actions against those with deepest sins...
Yeah. Things are about to get interesting.
Goddess of Filth was a very unique novella with a simple pitch: Girl gets possessed.
But then, with its bare-bones writing style mixed with a blend of the macabre and the mundane, this novella shone. I found myself gripped, wanting to know what would happen and how it would go down.
Super unique. Looking forward to exploring more from this author and more short horror from Creature Publishing.
Very interesting read. One of those "it's an underlying message" tales that usually drives me nuts—but this one? It worked. And it worked WELL, while Very interesting read. One of those "it's an underlying message" tales that usually drives me nuts—but this one? It worked. And it worked WELL, while managing to keep the enjoyment factor at the same time. A new favorite haunted house read for me.
I totally can see why The September House made it on to so many of my mutuals' lists... and after reading it, I now understand the really polarizing reactions to this read.
Ranging from lukewarm "whatever, it was fine" to oh-my-god-this-was-so-freaking-cool to "what are people on about, this was dull and preachy"—yeah, it seems like this story incites a reaction.
I had no idea where I'd fall, and the blurb from Grady Hendrix saying "just when you thought you'd seen everything there was to see about the haunted house story, there's this surprise" practically made me do it for that alone. As someone who loves haunted house stories, what do you MEAN this was something...new?
I love new.
So with my curiosity piqued, I dove in.
When Margaret and her husband Hal bought the large Victorian house on Hawthorn Street—for sale at a surprisingly reasonable price—they couldn’t believe they finally had a home of their own. Then they discovered the hauntings that happen every September. Most people would flee. Margaret is NOT most people.
The blurb sets us right off: there's a house, it's a nightmare to live in each September, and most owners don't make it to the next autumn before they flee into the night. But then, there's Margaret.
Margaret has nerves of steel and an unwavering will to resolve all solutions through adaptability and compromise. She's had a lifetime of experience navigating challenges and she knows the truth: as long as one follows the Rules, any problem can be navigated.
So Margaret deals with the walls dripping blood. The screaming and moaning. The dead children all pointing to the basement door saying "he's down there." She doesn't mind the housekeeper with the axed forehead who serves her tea. And she's even cool with the screaming demon boy with the biting habit.
All things, after all, can be managed if done properly.
But when Margaret's husband, Hal, runs off into the night and disappears... Margaret runs into problems. Her daughter, Katherine, wants answers. Where is Hal? Why did he leave? Why does Margaret want her to stay away?
Margaret doesn't want to tell Katherine about the hauntings. Especially not in September.
Katherine—like father, like daughter—doesn't listen. She arrives, and she's here for answers. In September.
Margaret's going to have quite a time. (And she does.)
This was a really, really cool horror novel. I think this is the kind of story I was expecting out of Sarah Gailey's Just Like Home, which disappointed me more than expected a few years ago. The September House has some layered family secrets and traumas that are boldly, and yet subtly, conveyed in this story.
Margaret as a main character was such a clever choice. Her wry humor, her acceptance of all truths (no matter how dark), and her resolute will to continue on at all costs was so...singular. And I loved unpacking all of that over the course of the novel.
This novel about an atmospheric, creepy island and the haunting revelations of buried angst and secrets ending in a gory finale isn't 4 gripping stars
This novel about an atmospheric, creepy island and the haunting revelations of buried angst and secrets ending in a gory finale isn't for everyone—but wow, this hit the spot for me!
Laney is a divorced teacher with a dead sister, a rich ex-husband, and a niece now under her care. Her ex-husband gifted her their rich island property in the middle of Lake Superior, and while Laney loves it to pieces, she doesn't have the money to pay for it alone—so she rents it out as an exclusive rental property for vacationers. She hates every moment of it, but there's no other choice.
So when Laney receives a call from a renter that blood and scratches have been found in a closet, and pentagrams are all over the property, she's pissed. Someone's throwing a mean prank and now she's got to fix it before the property loses more revenue. Armed with her niece, Madison, and sheer will, Laney heads to the island.
However, when she gets to the shore prior to heading over to Hemlock Island, Laney discovers quite the scene: her ex-husband, his sister and Laney's ex-best friend, and two other people from Laney's past that she'd much rather forget.
With spooky shenanigans and sinister consequences awaiting them, the last thing Laney needs is this tangle of interpersonal drama. But it's too late, and now this motley crew finds themselves trapped on an island—and what they're about to find will change them forever.
I would categorize this novel as one of those hybrid, in-between concepts. Not quite horror enough, not quite thriller enough, not quite interpersonal drama enough. And for the detail-oriented lovers, I can see the disappoint rearing its head from the very first few chapters.
This is a novel based in action, dialogue, and tension. All taking place on a truly gripping island setting in Lake Superior on the Great Lakes. (Which is in my neck of the woods as a Michigan girl, so let's be real, this was a huge sell for me.)
For me, a reader who loves drama, action, and clean prose focused on goals in her mystery/thrillers, Hemlock Island was a win. I loved the tension, the secrets bubbling to the surface, the surprises blatantly hidden and revealed at the proper times. This isn't a shocking whodunit, or whydunit, or even meant to be truly surprising/shocking—instead, I found the wins in Hemlock Island to be the sheer enjoyment of the unfolding story and the ruthless practicality of the characters faced with a horrifying scenario.
Come for the creepy island. Stay for the creepy island + the politics of this twisted tangle of friends and lovers and enemies.
Loved the concept, loved most of the execution—I think this debut slightly fumbled the landing. BUT that being said, the vibes and concept wer4 stars!
Loved the concept, loved most of the execution—I think this debut slightly fumbled the landing. BUT that being said, the vibes and concept were enough to keep this a personal favorite.
Concept: ★★★★★ Plot/Pacing: ★★★ Enjoyment: ★★★★
Imagine this:
You visit an island. Something is off about it. The people are nice, albeit your standard rural area standoffish vibe. The island itself is a beautiful piece of land off the coast of Northern Wisconsin.
But there's something about these people—their clothes are dated, their cars are all rust buckets, their music is 20 years out of date. And weirdest of all... you can't find anything more tech savvy than a Walkman and a boom box.
You realize the town is acting like it's 1994.
And when you catch some members of the town captivated by seemingly "live" coverage of OJ Simpson's car chase in California—and then you catch them watching it multiple nights in a row—you realize something is seriously, seriously weird here. Because the entire town KNOWS it's not actually 1994. But they're acting out the scenario anyway.
And then you find out that people sometimes disappear.
Welcome to Clifford Island. You might not make it off...
Dead Eleven is a horror release that I found out about randomly on Goodreads one day, and IMMEDIATELY knew that I needed to have it. From that pitch you just read, can't you see why?? What a concept.
Layered into that killer concept was a mixed-media, brother/sister, and past/present timeline angle that I found too good to resist. So I bought this and read it almost immediately.
Ultimately, I think this debut did a few things perfectly: the vibes, the lingering/creeping dread, the pulse-pounding "I need to know what happened" element that keeps you reading late into the night.
Where this book fumbled was in the ending. I think it wasn't bad, but it wasn't as spectacular as its first half implied it would be. But then... maybe it will for you. Let me know!
Eagerly looking forward to more horror mixed media from this author.
Oh YES. I had such a horrifically good time. This is the mirror-twin counter melody to Mexican Gothic, the Fall of the House of Usher done grot5 stars
Oh YES. I had such a horrifically good time. This is the mirror-twin counter melody to Mexican Gothic, the Fall of the House of Usher done grotesque.
Concept: ★★★★ Pacing: ★★★★★ Enjoyment: ★★★★★
Well, it's happened again: I have fallen in love with yet another bizarre and lingering horror story with a special focus on mushrooms. ("Again," yes, because this niche apparently has multiple books in it.)
Join me and the spores...
Alex Easton has heard word that their childhood friends, the Ushers, are struggling. Madeline is gravely ill, Roderick is not faring much better, and something is amiss.
Alex arrives, and they quickly realize that Roderick's understated things. There is something very, very wrong with this scene.
Madeline looks like she's already dead, Roderick doesn't look much better. The Usher estate is damp, moldy, and near-death itself. There's a visiting American doctor who has no idea what is going on, and a wandering older British woman on the grounds with a passion for mushroom study and a daughter named Beatrix Potter.
As Alex stays in the home, a creeping sense of foreboding and inevitability starts to sink in. The longer they stay at Usher, the worse it seems to get...
And that's IT. I won't say any more.
What Moves the Dead looks like—and sounds like—a repeat of concepts to those of us who have already read and loved Silvia Moreno-Garcia's Mexican Gothic. In fact, T Kingfisher themselves writes in the Author's Note that they'd been chewing on this idea already, and then Mexican Gothic came out and What Moves the Dead disappeared into a drawer, almost for forever, as Kingfisher went "gah, I can't do it better than THAT!"
Well I, personally, am thrilled that someone got T Kingfisher to revisit and finish this tale. This is something akin to a cousin, a neighbor, someone with the same facial features as Mexican Gothic but with an entirely different set of personality traits. These two novels are NOT the same, and—as a Moreno-Garcia superfan I can't believe I'm saying this—What Moves the Dead did it... better.
This was grotesque, truly horrifying, and went somewhere that even I didn't full expect. I thought I knew the steps, and I was having a good time, but then... yeah. This seasoned reader was still surprised in an interesting way. A very, very good horror novella that I recommend to anyone with the stomach to handle it.
Thank you to TOR/Nightfire for my copy in exchange for an honest review.
Oh YES. I had such a horrifically good time. This is the mirror-twin counter melody to Mexican Gothic, the Fall of the House of Usher done grotesque.
Concept: ★★★★ Pacing: ★★★★★ Enjoyment: ★★★★★
Well, it's happened again: I have fallen in love with yet another bizarre and lingering horror story with a special focus on mushrooms. ("Again," yes, because this niche apparently has multiple books in it.)
Join me and the spores...
Alex Easton has heard word that their childhood friends, the Ushers, are struggling. Madeline is gravely ill, Roderick is not faring much better, and something is amiss.
Alex arrives, and they quickly realize that Roderick's understated things. There is something very, very wrong with this scene.
Madeline looks like she's already dead, Roderick doesn't look much better. The Usher estate is damp, moldy, and near-death itself. There's a visiting American doctor who has no idea what is going on, and a wandering older British woman on the grounds with a passion for mushroom study and a daughter named Beatrix Potter.
As Alex stays in the home, a creeping sense of foreboding and inevitability starts to sink in. The longer they stay at Usher, the worse it seems to get...
And that's IT. I won't say any more.
What Moves the Dead looks like—and sounds like—a repeat of concepts to those of us who have already read and loved Silvia Moreno-Garcia's Mexican Gothic. In fact, T Kingfisher themselves writes in the Author's Note that they'd been chewing on this idea already, and then Mexican Gothic came out and What Moves the Dead disappeared into a drawer, almost for forever, as Kingfisher went "gah, I can't do it better than THAT!"
Well I, personally, am thrilled that someone got T Kingfisher to revisit and finish this tale. This is something akin to a cousin, a neighbor, someone with the same facial features as Mexican Gothic but with an entirely different set of personality traits. These two novels are NOT the same, and—as a Moreno-Garcia superfan I can't believe I'm saying this—What Moves the Dead did it... better.
This was grotesque, truly horrifying, and went somewhere that even I didn't full expect. I thought I knew the steps, and I was having a good time, but then... yeah. This seasoned reader was still surprised in an interesting way. A very, very good horror novella that I recommend to anyone with the stomach to handle it.
Thank you to TOR/Nightfire for my copy in exchange for an honest review.
Let’s be honest, I bought this anthology for the Stephen Graham Jones story. Which was just as bonkers as his usual work, so hooray for that. But! I fLet’s be honest, I bought this anthology for the Stephen Graham Jones story. Which was just as bonkers as his usual work, so hooray for that. But! I found a few other hidden gems in this collection that were interesting and made this flash-fiction reading exercise worthwhile. (There were also a fair few duds.)
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