A band of men, comrades, flying dark under the radar, immersing the reader in the scene middle of things about to go askew plunging peaks and survivalA band of men, comrades, flying dark under the radar, immersing the reader in the scene middle of things about to go askew plunging peaks and survival at the forefront with many outcomes inevitable with all the batshit crazy things a high octane charged ride commencing viscerally infusing you along the paths taken.
These men:
“Every man on board knew this. Ten operators kitted out in military camouflage, without name tags or any visible sign of rank. Mercenaries heading for an unsanctioned black ops mission aboard a luxury jet flying dark. Hard men with chiseled faces, stoic men accustomed to danger, but unaccustomed to fear.”
Down, down, they go, the survivors tread forth as strangers on strange new land of snow equipped with Ak -74’s, are there any other denizens of the land they can seek assistance from or be in danger from?
“The strange, dense calm of the forest was as ominous as the storm that had taken them down.”
With only 90 minutes to nightfall, bringing dangers including a severe drop in temperature, solutions of paramount importance for survival. Seeking of assistance of importance because many will not go looking,reasons being:
“Their mission—arms smuggling and black ops destabilization, in and out in seventy-two hours—was completed in total radio silence for reasons of deniability. Their flight plan simply did not exist. No one would automatically come searching for them.”
Daniil Oleg Radimir Liev Avva and Timurq live, how many will fall.
Prose potent and visceral with all necessary details and word economy laid forth to keep you immersed. Mystery and terror lays in wait.
Tell me this excerpt does not peak your interest:
“Their voices echoed strangely. Inside this third ring, the mountain floor was devoid of snow or even dead leaves. Wind swirled about them like voices whispering in ancient languages, but the ground was remarkably clean—as much as they could see in the settling darkness. “A tumulus,” said Daniil suddenly. “The word I was looking for—an ancient grave in honor of a fallen great. A warrior or some notable.” “It’s a labyrinth,” said Liev. “Maybe they were trying to slow down a charging enemy. Defend the core while the attackers negotiated their way in. Trying to keep them out.” Yuri leaned against the wall and recoiled fast. The others turned. Barely visible against the dark stone, rows of spikes hammered out of dark iron jutted from the stone, pointing inward toward the center. “Or maybe,” said Daniil, “they were trying to keep something in.”
Yes i see that its short maybe too short some new readers saying but its done well the shortness and they didn't tell anything in the wrong way, just more please sir.
Coincidences occurring, sinister things, along with the 4th of July menacingly looming, marking an anniversary of a dreaded secret fate past but neverCoincidences occurring, sinister things, along with the 4th of July menacingly looming, marking an anniversary of a dreaded secret fate past but never dead re-emerging. Maybe it’s too late for the truth to set them free?
The complexities and anxieties that something is afoot from realms of unseen interjecting into the characters lives ensuing a need to stay for the tales end, a novel of length, one of lucid nicely done storytelling keeping you immersed with trepidation through dreams, hallucinations, hauntings and the present, with things occurring upon on a group of five once upon a time teenage friends, in a small town, dealing with the past that is never dead and with what price they have to pay as fates shifting, a turning to a strain of macabre, a haunting and macabre metamorphosis of a few denizens of Kingsport.
The writing reminiscent of four authors that have penned similar tales those of Ray Bradbury, Stephen King, Joe R. Lansdale, and Robert McCammon, if you enjoyed those authors you would enjoy this.
This is out now in June of 2024, would have been great to have a review out early as one had access to it, so many books and only so much time whilst life calls in other ways via slave of the money, ones striving to survive an adequate life, with the powers that be have where they want you, ensuing a more tired state at times and a slowing down and delaying great cathartic times enduring the reading musing and reviewing. But that will change, one hopes. I have not read enough of Malfi’s works and have many on my tbr for years waiting with joy and trepidation to be read. Reading now Horror Movie by Paul Tremblay (review will be in link here maybe in few days time) another same publisher release, also reading it a little later than scheduled and enjoying it.
Opens with a scene of one interloping of previous trodden ground, a home of past living in search of a microwave, a Duane Oshun in his ex-wife’s home Opens with a scene of one interloping of previous trodden ground, a home of past living in search of a microwave, a Duane Oshun in his ex-wife’s home uninvited, one May in Utah. From Utah to Montana 29 year old Duane, a newly divorced man with a son of 13, with things he leaves behind and heart at battle with trying to forge a new life, a new chapter of ones life commences as a new denizen of a town will arrive wandering and inquisitive in a small town and a drive to a church may deliver some gifts of employment, friendships and social connections as one tries to start a new life. With the new territory and chapter of life in the small town he questions if he may be happy in solace in a cabin built by ones own hands who’s new job entails cutting wood, logging, seeking happiness and solace in a cabin in the wilderness recovering from fall out of divorce would be splendid and with son to visit and live amongst beauty of the earth. There is one interloper that also has a cabin one that paths will inevitably intersect each other and these sentences lead you with grace and a great anticipation on the how of these fates cross path one strain true and straight from the pages of dark history of the evil that men do.
Plight of men and women separated and new love to be found, old beef, grudges and enemies, the protecting of the forest and stopping of poachers, and other dangers lay in wait. A Bear dangerous enough too, that does appear in this small town and tale but also a far more dangerous being to society one with rage and anger about to show its ugly head in the wilderness. Incorporated alongside the characters pursuit of a life and meaning and other trials there be a nicely crafted twisted portrait, the complexities and frailties and the wickedness of this man once whom terrorised the population, all embedding within the reader a memorable historical literary treat. The author successfully juxtaposing the reader amidst wilderness and tragedy and vividly evoking the duality of nature and man with the beauty and ugliness, good and evil.
There be various greatly formulated sentences, words in line to describe various environments, emotions and scenes unfolding. A few examples are in the excerpts i have selected @ more2read ...more
Many have fallen, nations destroyed, but earth itself is in imminent danger from a force, an ancient battalion of Shoggoths serving the Outer Gods theMany have fallen, nations destroyed, but earth itself is in imminent danger from a force, an ancient battalion of Shoggoths serving the Outer Gods there will be Shoggoths’ chimeras up against the NecroTeks. Lost, a crew the Lost Souls, and an ai with consciousness are the last hope. A terror ancient and of present danger descending upon the characters amidst this cosmic tale with the dead awakening and necromancy cycling, a phenomena ensuing with a metamorphosis afoot in an epic tale. A grande cosmic extravaganza undertaken with a band of warriors named lost souls embracing necrotek in this first instalment in a brave bold new world beyond the known Jonathan Maberry has crafted with cosmic war, horror, mechanical monstrosities and ancient gods.
An odyssey with all the needed ingredients and elements laid down with the great orchestrations of a well crafted author into a prose that was a joy and ease to read, along with all the cosmic philosophy, the complexities and aspects that come with it, masterful laid down with care and clarity. Something just getting started with this first book that will have you waiting with great joy for its continuation, of which the author is crafting at this moment.
This would convert well to screen and hope someone does adapt it and do a good job of it. By the time he has written and published the second instalment I will have hoped to read and completed Hyperion, Dune, and The Foundation.
We humans on earth try to survive and make do and good within our own perplexing lives and frailties but unfortunately things break, and can and can’tWe humans on earth try to survive and make do and good within our own perplexing lives and frailties but unfortunately things break, and can and can’t be undone, and one may seek out cures of all kinds and if all else fails there is one on a distant moon involving a home and spiders. Book a seat on a shuttle to this destination, seats are limited and expensive!
One day in 1923 a Veronica Brinkley was voluntarily handed over in custody by her husband for Treatment of the Melancholy at Barrowfield home. The complexities of her dilemma upon earth along with the anxieties and frailties of what to come are well crafted necessary elements hooking the read in upon a moon amongst spidery matters and frightening minutes within a metamorphosis of one Veronica with a deeply effective human tragedy.
Upon a moon amidst the immeasurable cosmos denizens of human and spider entities be awaiting with a infusion of human frailty and the macabre and ancient holy wonder in a mesmeric manifestation of gothical grotesque excellence penned by Nathan Ballingrud with a phantasmagoric procession of monstrous delights.
Starring: The Brinkleys Veronica Brinkley Dr. Barrington Cull Charlie Duchamp Goodnight Maggie Bentley Myles Orderlies Soma Alabaster Scholars
The uncanny and disquietness and yet very human emotion running parallel with vivid visceral masterful evocation with the reader carrying on the dreamThe uncanny and disquietness and yet very human emotion running parallel with vivid visceral masterful evocation with the reader carrying on the dreams and nightmares.
The author a capable conductor of the familiar and unfamiliar, executing with intimate and precision storytelling, juxtapositioning the reader amidst different realms and worlds with a myriad of characters consuming hypnotically under his wings within visionary works, enter The Brian Evenson Zone!
Greyness Games Help me Things be controlled People being instructed. Help help Paralysed character A freedom wanted Head and bodies and memories Memories feed, knowledge gained Scary bedtime story time Servants and masters Mother and father Brother and sister Twins Family and unfamiliar Frailties and complexities Existential crisis Fears and hopes Need and wants Strange and uncanny Vivid and visceral Insidiously consuming First person narrations Terrifying good. Goodnight, sleep tight!
(More reviews of short stories will be posted soon)
Laird with his lyrical third eye potent tellings, a transmutation of words archaic and contemporary(More reviews of short stories will be posted soon)
Laird with his lyrical third eye potent tellings, a transmutation of words archaic and contemporary fused, juxtapositioning the reader in realms colliding surreal and real with a lyrical darkness and terrible beauty laid down transfiguring the scene to a conjuring of Laird Barron's calling.
I hear your echo Laird that cosmic horror one to chill your blood that, “voice into the dark, waiting for an echo.”
Resistance had been present and one swaying away from getting to reading Laird Barron’s work, but the echoes getting through and hear his calling and slowly taken oneself upon the road of dissecting his ballads.
American Remake of a Japanese Ghost Story
One Jessica m ‘PA for Phantom Lovers,’….Invited to a housewarming at ‘a big American Gothic structure updated to resemble something Argento might’ve used as a set in the heyday of vinyl and exploitation cinema.”’
This place gave her certain vibes upon arrival: “The creepy part was when we pulled into the yard and the place perfectly resembled my recent bad dreams right down to the peaked roof, nearby shed, and fields and woods. The dreams themselves were vague and disjointed as dreams are wont to be. I recalled wandering fields by moonlight, then an endless maze of dim hallways. Occasionally, someone or something on my plucked at my hair . . .”
We don’t happen to have magic balls, oracles, portals to the void, handed down by one Mary with warnings and may never encounter the chance. We do have the chance to be transported into this tale with one who does, the author taking the reader down an uncanny valley with the vivid scenes unfolding with things occurring. There be people undertaking a seance, amateurs inexperienced playing with the unseen and a Ouji board and there be a real conduit amidst them in form of Jessica M with a portal and senses of another kind with the power and curse to unravel mysteries. There are some finely crafted sentences and word choices, a poetically potency present with strains of the comedic amidst the lyrical darkness, ones that are a joy to read throughout various works of the author. Be aware forces of darkness awaiting Jessica M with her divining ball portal to the void amidst the thick and the uncanny of it.
Tiptoe
The past gone but never dead, memories good or bad, one Randall Xerxes Vance opens up his past for the reader with what partaken one last day on Lake Terror in ’68. Lake Terror which was really Lake Terron and as he tells: “The Vance clan’s holy trinity: Christmas; IBM Family Day; and the annual summer getaway at a cabin on Lake Terron. We made our final pilgrimage the year before Armstrong left bootprints on the Moon. Lake Terron—or Lake Terror, as we affectionally called it—gleamed at the edge of bona fide wilderness. Why Lake Terror? Some joker had altered the N on the road sign into an R with spray-paint and it just stuck. Nights were pitch black five paces beyond the porch. The dark was full of insect noises and the coughs of deer lurching around in the brush.”
Frailties and complexities within the raw present, Randall’s buried past reanimating finding its ground and running its course with the shifting of the time within new fears and traumas. One was fond of photography of wild animals, but the reader may come to ponder that the lens may have been turned now with reader more to inward hidden animal. There was a game taught by father Tiptoe, that this reader has had it hand at setting traps and surprises for others in his youth and one can associate with the fear and surprise that can be sprung upon a victim. This game had rules but no not like that of dear Dexter, if you was thinking so, one whose father taught many a thing. Randal says, “..a game called Tiptoe Dad taught me. A variation of ambush tag wherein you crept behind your victim and tapped him or her on the shoulder or goosed them, or whatever…The victim must be awake and unimpaired.” Despite this game and his learnings of survival with it and the moulding of a man he says this made him with time: “..I’m a tad jumpy. You could say my fight or flight reflex is highly tuned.” He battles with many things, the older him, and mentions: “nightmares ensued; and creepy-crawly memories surfaced.” “the beginning of a rough, emotional ride: insomnia; nightmares when I could sleep; and panic attacks. It felt like a crack had opened in my psyche. Generalized anxiety gradually worked its claws under my armor and skinned me to raw nerves. I committed to a leave of absence, pledging to conduct an inventory of possible antecedents.” There is the case of dear Aunt Vicki she is quite a soul, a kin with a talent, and not the fake kind, as she goes to expound on, she can perform ‘hypnotic regression’ and ‘communed with friendly spirits.’ These souls with things buried all on Lake Terron, Lake Terror, Vicki enlightening the scene where eyes don’t see. The author builds the character Randall imbuing the reader with a sense of care and he reels you on with great crafting with the what and how of the story with dread and the uncanny and a want to understand all that is contained within.
Girls Without Their Faces On
Barry F having an Autumn party in Alaska. Delia is going with J her boyfriend. If Planet X is aligning with the sun we are all doomed according to mysterious man J, it seems no more parties. Delia is having a instinctual feeling in this tale that she doesn’t quite know who J is, and what he does as a job when he is away.
Her sense of imminent danger may have had risen at this observation:
“By some trick of the dark, his eyes flared dull-bright crimson. His lambent gaze pulsed for several heartbeats, then faded, and he became a silhouette again.”
Prepare your self for “hardcore Bermuda Triangle-Mary Celeste s**t,” of Laird Barron’s great crafting with cosmic horror.
The tale moves to an encounter of cataclysmic effect and ruination, the denizens of Alaska entering a new chapter of existence, a whole strange new world you find yourself immersed in. There is a unique presence of a canine Atticus and too in Strident Caller in Nox Pareidolia with Artemis.
Strident Caller
The Strident caller and skull candle transcending the scene and then on….like a scene out of Mandy (2018 Film).
Gander at these words strung together that follow, characters evoked within this tale with craftsmanship of the author ones to interlope your fleeting precious minutes of immersive reading.
Craven is..”Unlike many of his friends and fellow travelers, he hadn’t gotten hooked on liquor or addicted to dope or caught an embarrassing, career-ending disease. Jack of a dozen trades and possessed of not half-bad looks, his mutably convivial personality proved sufficient to excel at the job of survival.”
Andy, “Andy was a late career Boris Karloff-looking sonofab***h who stalked the grounds while wearing the scowl of an ax-murderer on vacation.”
There is Deborah the temptress, “Seventy-fifth birthday coming next month, she possessed the florid sumptuousness of an aged yet ageless Italian scream queen.”
The possible star character, Artemis, one whom “Craven rescued the brindle pit bull.”
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