Lee Allen's Blog - Posts Tagged "supernatural"
Alone - A Supernatural Mystery
My Christmas novella Alone is available from Amazon and iBooks amongst other retailers.
_______
All things must end.
Recovering from a recent accident and faced with the prospect of spending another Christmas alone, Jessica accepts the invitation of an old flame to spend Christmas with him and his aged aunt at his manor house in the midst of the Brecon Beacons.
Feeling her arrival is unwelcome, Jessica awaits her reunion with a face from the past, while a snowstorm postpones his arrival and renders her trapped within the house. Behind the silence, something dark is lurking.
Left with little choice, Jessica finds she must face the secrets the old house hides. Yet what she may come to learn is that nothing haunts us more than the secrets of our own pasts, and that burying them does not make them forgotten.
_______
Read on for a sample below:
December 16th
_______
You can order now for:
Amazon's Kindle
Apple's iBooks
Rakuten's Kobo
Barnes & Noble's NOOK
and is also available in multiple formats on Amazon and Lulu.com.
Merry Christmas!
_______
All things must end.
Recovering from a recent accident and faced with the prospect of spending another Christmas alone, Jessica accepts the invitation of an old flame to spend Christmas with him and his aged aunt at his manor house in the midst of the Brecon Beacons.
Feeling her arrival is unwelcome, Jessica awaits her reunion with a face from the past, while a snowstorm postpones his arrival and renders her trapped within the house. Behind the silence, something dark is lurking.
Left with little choice, Jessica finds she must face the secrets the old house hides. Yet what she may come to learn is that nothing haunts us more than the secrets of our own pasts, and that burying them does not make them forgotten.
_______
Read on for a sample below:
December 16th
The gentle trickling of a glittering melody drifted on the air, creeping into the ears of the sleeping woman who lay on the bed in the corner of a sparsely furnished room. Her skin was deathly white, the only sign of life the water vapour escaping between her delicate lips as she breathed.
A shadow crossed her face, a slight creasing of anguish in her expression. There was something troubling about the sight of seeing innocence vanquished in something as subtle, like the moment a child suffers the loss of believing in magic. Worse still was that there was no one to witness the sight. Emptiness swirled around her clammy skin, dancing a Viennese Waltz with the silence that fell like frost in the wake of distant music that wasn’t quite alive.
Jessica awoke, her eyes drifting over the high ceiling. From her memory she grasped vaguely at what had woken her. A metallic tinkle. She listened to the dense blanket of night. The sound of being alone.
She rubbed her heavy brown eyes and sat up. Her unfinished glass of Irish Cream whisky sat on the bedside table, beside the candle that still held the ghost of its extinguished flame. She pulled her cardigan tighter around her shoulders, looking to the window, the landscape aglow even in the black of night.
She closed her eyes and touched her face. If she tried hard enough it was as if a hand reached from memory, fingertips brushing over her fingers, grasping her hand, lips bowing to graze her skin.
She shivered involuntarily. She had a feeling she could hear music, faint and distant, like bells carried on a still wind.
Her toes were cold. She flexed them on the worn carpet. Her feet were weary as she stood, crossing slowly to the window, watching the sky and the snow covered earth, the stars glowing beyond and the desolation of the stretch of beacons. She was lost, a lost girl nearing the end of her journey.
Turning from the window, she found the owner of the metallic tinkle. She stooped, a silver chain grasped in her fingers as she withdrew her hand. She felt the beads grasped under her cold fingertips, squeezing them as the crucifix fell across her palm. She felt the weight of her soul on her heart, sinking to her knees and bowing her head to her hands.
All things must end. And this was how it began.
_______
You can order now for:
Amazon's Kindle
Apple's iBooks
Rakuten's Kobo
Barnes & Noble's NOOK
and is also available in multiple formats on Amazon and Lulu.com.
Merry Christmas!
'Twas the Night Before Christmas - Preview
She would always remember the first night he visited, on a cold and treacherous Christmas Eve so many years before. Not unlike this one, with the wind howling down the chimney and a young child awaiting the arrival of St. Nicholas. Through the thin glass, she watched the cobbled street, awaiting the purr of the engine and crunch of tyres, fearful of a faraway tread of hooves and wheels bouncing from the cracks.
Her fingertips touched the cold pane, as the first snowfall of winter began; flakes gently floating against the glass, vanishing as if at the touch of her fingers. That day had seen the first snowfall of winter too, while she had been walking the fields with her younger brother, her father having gone down into the village to stock up on provisions. She had raised her arms to the sky, thanking the Lord that it was to be a white Christmas.
Laughing, she and her brother had run back to the house, where they found their mother assisting Mrs Gibbon, the cook and housekeeper, with the preparations for this evening’s dinner and tomorrow’s celebratory luncheon. It was a tradition for their mother to help in the kitchen each Christmas; so as never to forget her roots, she said.
“Would you like any help, Mother?”
“No, thank you, Ellie. You just keep your brother occupied until your father gets home and we can prepare for this evening.”
Which she dutifully did. Holidays, Christmas in particular, while they were children had been filled with games and laughter, the sheer joy that only children can feel. Reminiscing, then, had always overflowed with a warm glow, not tinged with the cold edge of sadness and the bitterness of regret. Childhood should be as sweet as candy cane and she was glad of it, but only wished she could see it otherwise than as through the glass of a snow globe.
She remembered the many Christmases spent baking in the kitchen with Mrs Gibbon, singing carols along to the wireless with her brother, taking long walks in the countryside in the brisk air with her father. She could shake all of these images and watch the snow fall around them the way the icing sugar used to fall through a sieve to top a Victoria sponge, each one like a scene from the handmade Christmas cards which her mother would send to cousins and aunts and uncles whom she had never met. The mirage of a perfect Christmas.
They spent the afternoon in the sitting room, listening to the wireless, watching out of the window as the snow fell thicker, listening to the carols. A radio play aired, a tale of goblins who hijacked St. Nicholas’ grotto and forced the elves to make monstrous toys to be delivered to the world’s children on Christmas Eve and trap them all in a time loop, so that Christmas morning would never again dawn. Darkness fell slowly from mid-afternoon, the white haze growing thicker. The snow was sticking and getting deeper before they finally heard the clattering of the front door.
A flurry of snow preceded their father into the hallway.
“Maud and her brood assured me they were leaving promptly as I left. She said we shouldn’t wait for her to serve dinner.”
“Hugo, that simply won’t do. They are our guests; I should not be seen to be ungracious enough to sit down to dinner prior to their arriving.”
“Very well, Carolyn, we shall await their arrival.”
Ellie listened to this exchange as she watched the snow begin to pile in the driveway. Her aunt Maud, Maud’s husband Gregory, and her cousins, Jack and John, would likely struggle to reach them. It would be a shame. They visited every Christmas. The boys, aged nine and ten, were like brothers to Eustace, her own nine-year-old brother. When it snowed, she and her father would help the three boys build a snowman while her mother assisted Mrs Gibbon in preparing the luncheon.
“Eleanor, perhaps you and your brother should help your mother prepare the dining room and then get yourselves ready for dinner.”
“Yes, Father.” She switched off the wireless and beckoned to her brother.
After laying the table for eight, Ellie filled herself a bath, enjoying the hot water enveloping her body whilst listening to the wind howling outside, rattling the window pane, whipping the snow into a blizzard.
Washing and drying herself, she pulled her clothes tight around her to block out the chill, filling the bath again and calling out to her brother that his bath was ready as she passed his bedroom on the landing. She sat on her bed and watched the snow for a while, the trees shrouded in white, branches reaching out like claws in the darkened evening.
She changed into her eveningwear, her garments finished with a winter gown featuring a fitted corset and dresses flowing to the floor. Her brother knocked on the door, asking her to secure his bow tie for him, a skill he’d not yet mastered.
They returned to the sitting room, where they found their parents also dressed in preparation for dinner. They settled to await the rest of the family’s arrival, listening to the wireless forecast the most severe snowfall in several years, recommending they do not venture out of their homes unless in the most necessary circumstances.
‘In other news, authorities are seeking a man who absconded from prison earlier today. Edward Hitchfield, 42, who was convicted of two murders in March this year, escaped prison officials early this morning after being admitted to hospital following a minor injury. He has been described as medium-build, bearded, with dark hair but balding, last seen wearing prison-issue garments. Police have advised the public to be vigilant. They suspect he will have made changes to his appearance and urge the public to report any suspicions they may have.
‘Elsewhere…’
“My sympathies are with anyone who is without shelter in this weather, whomever they be,” Carolyn commented.
“This fellow won’t get far in this weather,” Hugo added. Ellie wondered fleetingly if it was truly their minds he was attempting to put at ease. “They’ll have caught him in no time at all.”
“Assuming he doesn’t freeze to death,” Ellie added aloud, looking out into the ever-falling snow. It sounded more savage to the ears than she intended. Neither of her parents commented.
They were silent as the news programme was succeeded by carols, the lyrics of God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman swelling to fill the room. They all gazed thoughtfully through the window into the ghostly glow of the dark night. No one broke the silence. Satan’s power seemed particularly potent at that moment, with a man led astray somewhere out there in the wilderness, cloven hooves treading in his shadow.
A loud knock roused them from their rumination.
___
'Twas the Night Before Christmas will be available from Amazon and Lulu.com on Friday the 13th, with other retailers to follow.
Visit me on Facebook
Follow me on Twitter
Her fingertips touched the cold pane, as the first snowfall of winter began; flakes gently floating against the glass, vanishing as if at the touch of her fingers. That day had seen the first snowfall of winter too, while she had been walking the fields with her younger brother, her father having gone down into the village to stock up on provisions. She had raised her arms to the sky, thanking the Lord that it was to be a white Christmas.
Laughing, she and her brother had run back to the house, where they found their mother assisting Mrs Gibbon, the cook and housekeeper, with the preparations for this evening’s dinner and tomorrow’s celebratory luncheon. It was a tradition for their mother to help in the kitchen each Christmas; so as never to forget her roots, she said.
“Would you like any help, Mother?”
“No, thank you, Ellie. You just keep your brother occupied until your father gets home and we can prepare for this evening.”
Which she dutifully did. Holidays, Christmas in particular, while they were children had been filled with games and laughter, the sheer joy that only children can feel. Reminiscing, then, had always overflowed with a warm glow, not tinged with the cold edge of sadness and the bitterness of regret. Childhood should be as sweet as candy cane and she was glad of it, but only wished she could see it otherwise than as through the glass of a snow globe.
She remembered the many Christmases spent baking in the kitchen with Mrs Gibbon, singing carols along to the wireless with her brother, taking long walks in the countryside in the brisk air with her father. She could shake all of these images and watch the snow fall around them the way the icing sugar used to fall through a sieve to top a Victoria sponge, each one like a scene from the handmade Christmas cards which her mother would send to cousins and aunts and uncles whom she had never met. The mirage of a perfect Christmas.
They spent the afternoon in the sitting room, listening to the wireless, watching out of the window as the snow fell thicker, listening to the carols. A radio play aired, a tale of goblins who hijacked St. Nicholas’ grotto and forced the elves to make monstrous toys to be delivered to the world’s children on Christmas Eve and trap them all in a time loop, so that Christmas morning would never again dawn. Darkness fell slowly from mid-afternoon, the white haze growing thicker. The snow was sticking and getting deeper before they finally heard the clattering of the front door.
A flurry of snow preceded their father into the hallway.
“Maud and her brood assured me they were leaving promptly as I left. She said we shouldn’t wait for her to serve dinner.”
“Hugo, that simply won’t do. They are our guests; I should not be seen to be ungracious enough to sit down to dinner prior to their arriving.”
“Very well, Carolyn, we shall await their arrival.”
Ellie listened to this exchange as she watched the snow begin to pile in the driveway. Her aunt Maud, Maud’s husband Gregory, and her cousins, Jack and John, would likely struggle to reach them. It would be a shame. They visited every Christmas. The boys, aged nine and ten, were like brothers to Eustace, her own nine-year-old brother. When it snowed, she and her father would help the three boys build a snowman while her mother assisted Mrs Gibbon in preparing the luncheon.
“Eleanor, perhaps you and your brother should help your mother prepare the dining room and then get yourselves ready for dinner.”
“Yes, Father.” She switched off the wireless and beckoned to her brother.
After laying the table for eight, Ellie filled herself a bath, enjoying the hot water enveloping her body whilst listening to the wind howling outside, rattling the window pane, whipping the snow into a blizzard.
Washing and drying herself, she pulled her clothes tight around her to block out the chill, filling the bath again and calling out to her brother that his bath was ready as she passed his bedroom on the landing. She sat on her bed and watched the snow for a while, the trees shrouded in white, branches reaching out like claws in the darkened evening.
She changed into her eveningwear, her garments finished with a winter gown featuring a fitted corset and dresses flowing to the floor. Her brother knocked on the door, asking her to secure his bow tie for him, a skill he’d not yet mastered.
They returned to the sitting room, where they found their parents also dressed in preparation for dinner. They settled to await the rest of the family’s arrival, listening to the wireless forecast the most severe snowfall in several years, recommending they do not venture out of their homes unless in the most necessary circumstances.
‘In other news, authorities are seeking a man who absconded from prison earlier today. Edward Hitchfield, 42, who was convicted of two murders in March this year, escaped prison officials early this morning after being admitted to hospital following a minor injury. He has been described as medium-build, bearded, with dark hair but balding, last seen wearing prison-issue garments. Police have advised the public to be vigilant. They suspect he will have made changes to his appearance and urge the public to report any suspicions they may have.
‘Elsewhere…’
“My sympathies are with anyone who is without shelter in this weather, whomever they be,” Carolyn commented.
“This fellow won’t get far in this weather,” Hugo added. Ellie wondered fleetingly if it was truly their minds he was attempting to put at ease. “They’ll have caught him in no time at all.”
“Assuming he doesn’t freeze to death,” Ellie added aloud, looking out into the ever-falling snow. It sounded more savage to the ears than she intended. Neither of her parents commented.
They were silent as the news programme was succeeded by carols, the lyrics of God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman swelling to fill the room. They all gazed thoughtfully through the window into the ghostly glow of the dark night. No one broke the silence. Satan’s power seemed particularly potent at that moment, with a man led astray somewhere out there in the wilderness, cloven hooves treading in his shadow.
A loud knock roused them from their rumination.
___
'Twas the Night Before Christmas will be available from Amazon and Lulu.com on Friday the 13th, with other retailers to follow.
Visit me on Facebook
Follow me on Twitter
Agatha Christie's The Pale Horse - Review
The Pale Horse by Agatha ChristieMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
A deliciously devious supernatural murder mystery from the Queen of Golden Age Crime.
“And I looked, and behold, a pale horse! And its rider’s name was Death, and Hades followed him.” Revelation 6:8
Late one autumn evening, Father Gorman is summoned to the bedside of a dying woman to hear her confession. He is deeply troubled by what he hears, frantically recording a list to ensure he does not forget its contents. Before he reaches home, he is brutally murdered in the street, a crime that shocks the local community and leaves police baffled.
Historian Mark Easterbrook, after witnessing a brief incident between two women in a coffee shop, notices a familiar name in the Deaths column in the newspaper. He thinks little more of it, until a visit to the theatre and a subsequent conversation remind him. This is when he first hears mention of a pale horse. Synchronicity strikes soon after as he hears the term again. Then, while visiting the home of his late godmother, Mark runs into an old acquaintance, a police surgeon who is investigating a list found on the person of a murdered priest.
Finding himself drawn deeper into the case, Mark encounters a purported coven of witches, suspecting he may have uncovered a nefarious conspiracy wielding dangerous and unimaginable power. With the help of Ginger, a spirited art restorer, he endeavours to uncover the truth and ultimately solve the mystery behind the Pale Horse.
Agatha Christie is genius, her mysteries always clever and packed with twists, the solutions chilling and psychologically authentic. Her stories were amongst the first crime fiction books that I read, beginning with ‘Murder on the Orient Express’ at ten years old (having fallen in love with the ‘Agatha Christie’s Poirot’ TV adaptations prior to this), and picking up the minor few stories I’ve not yet read many years later is always pure enjoyment. ‘The Pale Horse’ is no exception – gripping, enthralling and fast-paced; I devoured the story over Hallowe’en weekend. Christie wrote relatively few supernaturally-themed stories, so this novel is a gem – similar in tone and style to Dennis Wheatley’s occult novels. Though I worked out whodunit, this is nevertheless a fully entertaining and engaging mystery.
Though a standalone novel, ‘The Pale Horse’ features appearances of several characters who have appeared in other novels, significantly Ariadne Oliver, who assisted Poirot with several cases, the first being ‘Cards on the Table’, from which two other characters return. Mrs Oliver also references the events of another Poirot novel when discussing a village fete. Two characters from the Miss Marple novel ‘The Moving Finger’ also feature; long before the concept of fictional universes became mainstream, Christie subtly established one with her literary characters.
The novel has been adapted for television three times – first as a TV movie in 1996 by ITV. It was again adapted for ITV as an episode of ‘Agatha Christie’s Marple’, written by Russell Lewis (who would later create ‘Inspector Morse’ prequel ‘Endeavour’ and has also written the upcoming adaptations of Peter James’ Roy Grace novels). The most recent adaptation was for the BBC in 2020, a mini-series written by Sarah Phelps, this her fifth Christie adaptation for television.
The novel is also notable for having reportedly saved multiple lives, including a baby, and contributed to the apprehension of a serial killer – (*SPOILER*) due to its detailed description of the symptoms of thallium poisoning.
Thrilling, chilling, the perfect read of dark autumn and winter evenings, ‘The Pale Horse’ is a sublime collision between the worlds of crime and supernatural mystery.
View all my reviews
Visit me on Facebook
Follow me on Twitter
Follow me on Instagram
Stephen King's The Dead Zone - Review
The Dead Zone by Stephen KingMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
A classic thriller from horror master Stephen King.
Since suffering an injury as a child, Johnny has experienced moments when he can see and feel with such clarity almost as if with a view into the future. Yet it’s affected his life little up to this point. Now a dedicated teacher, he is delighted when fellow teacher Sarah agrees to a date. Yet their night is due to end tragically, with Johnny left comatose and barely clinging to life.
Almost everyone has given up on Johnny, when, four and a half years later, he wakes from his coma. His precognitive abilities are now far more powerful – with the briefest touch, he can see into someone’s life with terrifying clarity. Johnny’s road to recovery is a difficult one, while his newfound abilities become evermore heavy to bear.
He wants nothing more than to be able to recover and live a quiet life, to get back into teaching and move on from the past. But others will not allow him to rest, while Johnny wrestles with his internal struggle between intervening in the lives of others to offer help and moving on to live his own. But the presence of evil is impossible to ignore and, against his better judgement, threatens to become an obsession that will ultimately consume him.
‘The Dead Zone’ is a gripping, character-driven horror thriller; spanning several years and told from the perspective of a core cast of characters, it has the feel of an epic whilst brimming with elements of supernatural horror and science fiction, with moral questions at its core. I felt a lot of empathy for Johnny, not only through his injuries and recovery, but also in his personal relationships and the increasing burden of his moral struggle. I loved his relationship with Sarah, one that becomes tinged with tragedy, a piece of their life stolen from them before it could be fully realised. There are some relationships you never truly move on from and the novel deals poignantly with that concept. Johnny, Sarah and Herb are developed particularly well, with glimpses into many of the secondary and minor characters, some of which become far more significant as the novel progresses.
King explores themes he has explored in previous novels and would explore again in the future – notably forms of psychic phenomena and the dark side of power, both political and preternatural. I could see shades of Randall Flagg in Greg Stillson and his fascist politics, while Johnny’s precognition presents similar challenges to one who might discover the ability to time travel, which King later explored superbly in '11.22.63’. The novel is also notable for being the first to feature fictional town Castle Rock, the town’s serial killer, whose apprehension is recorded here, often referenced in future novels and TV series.
The novel has twice been adapted for the screen, the first as a film released in 1983, and the second for television as a series which began airing in 2002 and lasted for six seasons. It is a story that lends itself perfectly for adaption to the screen; the novel itself is fast-paced, at times intense and emotionally resonating, with both plot and characters blended perfectly to form a thrilling narrative that builds to an almost inevitable, but satisfying, denouement.
Engrossing and moving, ‘The Dead Zone’ hooks from beginning to end, posing thought-provoking questions and telling a thrilling tale.
View all my reviews
Visit me on Facebook
Follow me on Twitter
Follow me on Instagram
Bitter Chills: Holiday Edition - Review
Bitter Chills: Holiday Edition by Jay AlexanderMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
A delightfully devilish collection of short fiction from the pens of indie horror writers.
Each Bonfire Night, a group of teenagers are haunted by a boy whom they left to burn...
Driving home, a man is stranded by a relentless snowstorm...
A bedtime story of the culmination of the Wild Hunt on the night of the Winter Solstice...
A grieving father is determined to keep a promise to his dead son which he failed to while he lived...
The mystery behind the disappearance of a teenage girl begins to unravel...
The tale of a killer snowman...
Christmas dinner takes an unexpected turn...
A lonely woman grants shelter to her ex and his new partner one snowy Christmas Eve...
A man is hunted by a mythological monster...
A fight for survival in a collapsed and frozen world...
A fossilised larynx unleashes the stuff of nightmares...
'Bitter Chills' is the first of several anthologies from indie publisher Blood Rites Horror, curated and edited by author Jay Alexander. Featuring tales of psychological horror, supernatural horror, environmental and natural horror, dystopia and a touch of black comedy, the collection covers a breadth of horror tropes and sub-genres with something to appeal to all tastes; these quality tales representing the indie horror community at large.
The Holiday Edition also includes a raft of bonus material, including artwork, poems and new stories, some being sequels to previous stories, making this volume a luxury celebration of the work of the featured authors.
My personal favourites were:
'The Burning Boy' by Denver Grenell - feeling like a nostalgic throwback to young adult horror, the sort of tale that introduces you to the genre, with karma reaching out its hand from beyond the grave;
'My White Star' by Carla Eliot - a mystery and ghost story combined into a tale of retribution, the main character haunted by the presence of his missing friend, a horrifying truth unraveling before his eyes;
'The Christmas Eve' by Carmilla Yugov - a sublime tale of psychological horror, with its premise of revisiting an emotional trauma, building to bloodshed and terror; a thrilling story of horror and suspense;
'The Violent Snow' by Patrick Whitehurst - with its archaeological theme, claustrophobic suspense, but nevertheless the fun of adventure, this natural horror story evolving into full-blown creature-feature has a cinematic feel and a neat conclusion, as well as an equally satisfying sequel. Would love to read a part three!
A feast of horrors from the depths of winter, 'Bitter Chills: Holiday Edition' is perfect for filling the Hallowe'en-sized hole in your reading list long after the jack o'lantern has ceased to flicker.
View all my reviews
Visit me on Facebook
Follow me on Twitter
Follow me on Instagram
November Story Spotlight - 'Twas the Night Before Christmas
"She would always remember the first night he visited, on a cold and treacherous Christmas Eve so many years before."
With winter stealthily taking hold and the festive season on the horizon, this month's spotlight is on short story "'Twas the Night Before Christmas", a twisted gothic tale of Yuletide horror.
Behind the Story
There's just something about horror, crime and mystery at Christmas, that juxtaposition against the joy and colour of festivities, whilst set in the heart of winter in the traditional Northern Hemisphere imagery of the season. Ultimately, it's perhaps the most perfect time for a classic good vs. evil story.
For some time, I'd had a lingering idea about a Christmas story inspired by a folkloric combination of Krampus and Rumplestiltskin. When it came to plotting the short story for the collection, I knew I wanted to fully submerge into gothic atmosphere and to go back in time to the Victorian and Edwardian era.
Also taking inspiration from work of Agatha Christie, Charles Dickens and Dennis Wheatley, "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" was the second story I wrote for "Whispers from the Dead of Night". Ellie is perhaps one of my favourite characters across the collection, while the story still retains a sprinkling of the magic of its fairytale inspiration amongst its dark shadows.
Snow is falling and dusk closes in. Lock out the storm and light your flames against the darkness, and prepare for a visitation on Christmas Eve with diabolical intentions...
"Satan’s power seemed particularly potent at that moment, with a man led astray somewhere out there in the wilderness."
A visitation on Christmas Eve with diabolical intentions…
Ellie and her family are preparing for their annual festivities, while the weather begins to deteriorate and threatens to cut them off from the outside world.
A man arrives out of the snowstorm, stranded and in need of their help, so they invite him to join them for the evening.
But as the snow continues to fall, Ellie discovers that behind a façade of innocence may hide the face of evil.
"You presume the benevolence and forgiveness of your God to not be equalled by the malevolence and vengefulness of mine?"
Read the opening scene.
"'Twas the Night Before Christmas" is available as a standalone ebook or as part of the original "Whispers from the Dead of Night" short story collection in ebook and paperback and the deluxe collection in ebook, paperback and hardcover.
Order "'Twas the Night Before Christmas"
Order "Whispers from the Dead of Night"
Order "Whispers from the Dead of Night - The Deluxe Collection"
Visit me on Facebook
Follow me on Twitter
Follow me on Instagram
With winter stealthily taking hold and the festive season on the horizon, this month's spotlight is on short story "'Twas the Night Before Christmas", a twisted gothic tale of Yuletide horror.
Behind the Story
There's just something about horror, crime and mystery at Christmas, that juxtaposition against the joy and colour of festivities, whilst set in the heart of winter in the traditional Northern Hemisphere imagery of the season. Ultimately, it's perhaps the most perfect time for a classic good vs. evil story.
For some time, I'd had a lingering idea about a Christmas story inspired by a folkloric combination of Krampus and Rumplestiltskin. When it came to plotting the short story for the collection, I knew I wanted to fully submerge into gothic atmosphere and to go back in time to the Victorian and Edwardian era.
Also taking inspiration from work of Agatha Christie, Charles Dickens and Dennis Wheatley, "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" was the second story I wrote for "Whispers from the Dead of Night". Ellie is perhaps one of my favourite characters across the collection, while the story still retains a sprinkling of the magic of its fairytale inspiration amongst its dark shadows.
Snow is falling and dusk closes in. Lock out the storm and light your flames against the darkness, and prepare for a visitation on Christmas Eve with diabolical intentions...
"Satan’s power seemed particularly potent at that moment, with a man led astray somewhere out there in the wilderness."
A visitation on Christmas Eve with diabolical intentions…
Ellie and her family are preparing for their annual festivities, while the weather begins to deteriorate and threatens to cut them off from the outside world.
A man arrives out of the snowstorm, stranded and in need of their help, so they invite him to join them for the evening.
But as the snow continues to fall, Ellie discovers that behind a façade of innocence may hide the face of evil.
"You presume the benevolence and forgiveness of your God to not be equalled by the malevolence and vengefulness of mine?"
Read the opening scene.
"'Twas the Night Before Christmas" is available as a standalone ebook or as part of the original "Whispers from the Dead of Night" short story collection in ebook and paperback and the deluxe collection in ebook, paperback and hardcover.
Order "'Twas the Night Before Christmas"
Order "Whispers from the Dead of Night"
Order "Whispers from the Dead of Night - The Deluxe Collection"
Visit me on Facebook
Follow me on Twitter
Follow me on Instagram
December Story Spotlight - Alone
"I'm not sure what led me to take up a pen and record these days, but from the moment I woke in the small hours of this morning, or perhaps earlier...something has urged me to sit at the table and write."
As we count down to Christmas, the final story spotlight is on novella 'Alone', a gothic supernatural mystery.
Behind the Story
At the time I began 'Alone', I was working on what was then planned to be my second novel following 'Those Crimes of Passion'. Alongside this, I wrote an early draft of 'The Ghost Train' and soon became inspired to work on another side project - a festive ghost story.
The tradition of ghost stories at Christmas has never lost its appeal. Nor has the puzzle of a crime mystery to solve during the season. For these two genres to flourish at this time makes for beautiful juxtaposition and harks back to the origins of our winter festival.
This was also a time when I was struggling with my mental health. A decade ago, it was still something we didn't really talk about. Hearing a glib "cheer up, it's Christmas, you should be happy" can become tiresome. Christmas for many can be difficult - old wounds can so easily open and current troubles feel deeper at a time celebrating love and family, friendship and community. These became key themes I wanted to explore.
Gothic fiction is a marvellous canvas wih which to explore a troubled mind - with its shadows and suspense, its atmosphere and isolation. Inspired by works of Daphne du Maurier and Agatha Christie, as well as ghost stories and supernatural horror in film, I laced these genres together, structured around Adventide, weaving a 'psychological jigsaw puzzle' in epistolary style.
The resulting novella remains a favourite amongst my own stories, released as my second book on Winter Solstice in 2014. Join Jessica as she revisits the past, isolated in an old house in the Welsh mountains, haunted by memories and perhaps something more.
Burying our secrets does not make them forgotten...
“Through the dilapidated village and crawling up into the beacons, towards the spectre that soon loomed on the hill.”
All things must end.
Recovering from a recent accident and faced with the prospect of spending another Christmas alone, Jessica accepts the invitation of an old flame to spend Christmas with him and his aged aunt at his manor house in the midst of the Brecon Beacons.
Feeling her arrival is unwelcome, Jessica awaits her reunion with a face from the past, while a snowstorm postpones his arrival and renders her trapped within the house. Behind the silence, something dark is lurking.
Left with little choice, Jessica finds she must face the secrets the old house hides. Yet what she may come to learn is that nothing haunts us more than the secrets of our own pasts, and that burying them does not make them forgotten.
“I remembered nothing else but that twinkling music, as I lay in a stupor on the ground having never felt so much fear at not being alone.”
Read the opening scene.
“Alone” is available as a standalone in ebook and paperback or as part of "Whispers from the Dead of Night - The Deluxe Collection" in ebook, paperback and hardcover.
Order "Alone"
Order "Whispers from the Dead of Night - The Deluxe Collection"
Visit me on Facebook
Follow me on Twitter
Follow me on Instagram
As we count down to Christmas, the final story spotlight is on novella 'Alone', a gothic supernatural mystery.
Behind the Story
At the time I began 'Alone', I was working on what was then planned to be my second novel following 'Those Crimes of Passion'. Alongside this, I wrote an early draft of 'The Ghost Train' and soon became inspired to work on another side project - a festive ghost story.
The tradition of ghost stories at Christmas has never lost its appeal. Nor has the puzzle of a crime mystery to solve during the season. For these two genres to flourish at this time makes for beautiful juxtaposition and harks back to the origins of our winter festival.
This was also a time when I was struggling with my mental health. A decade ago, it was still something we didn't really talk about. Hearing a glib "cheer up, it's Christmas, you should be happy" can become tiresome. Christmas for many can be difficult - old wounds can so easily open and current troubles feel deeper at a time celebrating love and family, friendship and community. These became key themes I wanted to explore.
Gothic fiction is a marvellous canvas wih which to explore a troubled mind - with its shadows and suspense, its atmosphere and isolation. Inspired by works of Daphne du Maurier and Agatha Christie, as well as ghost stories and supernatural horror in film, I laced these genres together, structured around Adventide, weaving a 'psychological jigsaw puzzle' in epistolary style.
The resulting novella remains a favourite amongst my own stories, released as my second book on Winter Solstice in 2014. Join Jessica as she revisits the past, isolated in an old house in the Welsh mountains, haunted by memories and perhaps something more.
Burying our secrets does not make them forgotten...
“Through the dilapidated village and crawling up into the beacons, towards the spectre that soon loomed on the hill.”
All things must end.
Recovering from a recent accident and faced with the prospect of spending another Christmas alone, Jessica accepts the invitation of an old flame to spend Christmas with him and his aged aunt at his manor house in the midst of the Brecon Beacons.
Feeling her arrival is unwelcome, Jessica awaits her reunion with a face from the past, while a snowstorm postpones his arrival and renders her trapped within the house. Behind the silence, something dark is lurking.
Left with little choice, Jessica finds she must face the secrets the old house hides. Yet what she may come to learn is that nothing haunts us more than the secrets of our own pasts, and that burying them does not make them forgotten.
“I remembered nothing else but that twinkling music, as I lay in a stupor on the ground having never felt so much fear at not being alone.”
Read the opening scene.
“Alone” is available as a standalone in ebook and paperback or as part of "Whispers from the Dead of Night - The Deluxe Collection" in ebook, paperback and hardcover.
Order "Alone"
Order "Whispers from the Dead of Night - The Deluxe Collection"
Visit me on Facebook
Follow me on Twitter
Follow me on Instagram
Catriona Ward's Rawblood - Review
Rawblood by Catriona WardMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
A creeping tale gothic horror and a haunting family legacy.
Rawblood stands isolated and aloof on the Devonshire moors; home to the Villarca family, only two of whom remain – Iris and her father.
Iris has been warned of the Villarca affliction, either a disease or a curse which strikes when one feels powerful emotion. Iris’ health is threatened by her bond with Tom, a young man from a neighbouring family estate.
Through a history steeped in shadows, the secrets of Rawblood emerge, a prison from which no Villarca can escape.
'Rawblood' is the debut novel by Catriona Ward, a gothic tale stretching across decades, telling the history of the Villarca family and those in their close orbit. A concoction of perhaps the foremost three of the gothic sub-genres – horror, family saga and romance, it is a beautifully written and richly descriptive novel, employing a non-linear narrative to detail events through the Victorian era, Edwardian era, and the First World War and its immediate aftermath, exploring multiple character perspectives and how their stories intertwine. Against the backdrop of vivid settings, including the mansion lost in the midst of the wilderness of Dartmoor, into the heart of an asylum, and travelling to Siena, is an intricately plotted and deftly-paced saga, with an escalating psychological claustrophobia throughout.
At the centre of the story is Iris, who as a child first learns of the family malady that may have its origins in something physical, psychological or supernatural. Rebelling against the fears her father instils in her, she cannot foresee the horrors that will be unleashed. Three decades earlier, Charles Danforth travels to Rawblood to reunite with an old friend, recording his stay in diary form. These slow-burning narratives coalesce with menace and suspense, featuring forbidden relationships, scientific experimentation, and the lingering spectres of guilt and trauma. Adjacent to their narration, supporting characters’ perspectives flesh out this history, providing clues to the truth behind the mystery. While balancing these many elements, revelations withheld and insinuated, only to fully emerge as the final chapters come to fruition, between the lines is oppression and abuse – physical and psychological; familial, institutional and societal.
Oozing atmosphere and entwining a treasure trove of gothic themes, Ward has woven a work of art. Reminiscent of classics such as 'Frankenstein', 'Rebecca' and ‘The Haunting of Hill House’, with touches of 'The Woman in Black', 'Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde' and even ‘Dracula’, whilst nevertheless being its own unique story, it contains so much which I love about the genre in one novel and is a superlative portrayal of a haunting - balancing the supernatural with the psychological, origins swathed in horror and mystery. The journal entries of 1881, the chapters within the asylum during and after the war, and the tale of traveling companions Miss Hopewell and Miss Brigstocke in 1839-50 all stick in my mind as perfectly evoking their characters and place. Also inspirational for me as a writer, this book features many elements that I strive for in my own fiction and find deeply fascinating. This is the first of Ward's novels that I've read and already places her as a new favourite of mine.
Tragic and evocative, ‘Rawblood’ is a haunting horror story and family saga, one you wish to both devour and savour in equal measure.
View all my reviews
Follow me on Facebook
Follow me on Instagram
Follow me on Twitter
HorrorScope: A Zodiac Anthology, Volume I - Review
HorrorScope: A Zodiac Anthology by H. EverendMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
An anthology of zodiac horror.
'HorrorScope' is a collection of short stories and poetry, thematically linked to signs of the zodiac, featuring work by thirty-six indie horror and dark fantasy authors. Edited by H. Everend, it features a wide array of sub-genres, including forays into mythology, creature features and cryptozoology, slashers and serial killers, curses and witchcraft, and the looming spectre of death. It’s a thrilling concept, to present a horror-esque horoscope through storytelling, split into a section per zodiac sign, each section including three pieces.
My personal favourites were:
‘The Twin Keepers’ by Alex Tilley, a blend of psychological and dystopian suspense;
‘You Die...I Die’ by Jessica Huntley, a twisted game at the hands of a serial killer;
‘The Virgin’ by Brooklynn Dean, a delicious slice of erotica and brutal ritual;
‘The Lovers’ by Sabrina Voerman, a sensuous fantasy of tragedy and morality;
‘The Sting of the Scorpius’ by Kay Hanifen, a tale of mysticism and retribution;
‘The One Who Came to Save Her’ by Nico Bell, a visitation of revenge in a small town;
‘My Little Minnow’ by Nina Tolstoy, a psychological portrait of a serial killer.
Overall, this is a brilliant dossier of work, covering a wide range of sub-genres. As one would expect, it contains its fair share of explicit violence, sexual content, and torture, as well as some less explicit animal cruelty. Boasting diversity across genre, themes, tropes and characters, even the most casual horror fan will likely find something that speaks to them within this volume, much like might be found in a traditional horoscope.
Overseeing proceedings is H. Everend; as well as an author of several horror stories, she is also a committed supporter of the indie author community. Here she has curated a superb anthology that showcases the talent and hard work of its writers, with a mix of established names with work already published and new authors presenting their debuts. As an indie author myself, I understand the challenges and the sheer willpower, commitment and passion it takes to produce the work and send it out into the world, and everyone should feel incredibly proud of their contributions. Indie voices may typically be small, but nevertheless they have something to say.
A delight for both enthusiasts of horror and indie supporters, ‘HorrorScope’ marks a fabulous achievement for all the creators involved. Future volumes have been announced, with 'HorrorScope, Volume II' arriving this summer.
View all my reviews
Follow me on Facebook
Follow me on Instagram
Follow me on Twitter
