Feather By David Rix

Feather is an intricate latticework of nine separate novellas introducing the reader to an original form of storytelling. Set against the backdrop of ocean and sea, David Rix introduces us to his dark and often complicated muse: Feather the wandering girl – an orphaned eccentric who embodies the nomadic spirit. Someone who flits into people’s lives, touches them with magic, and ultimately flits away again … often leaving battered souls in her wake. 

With the opening novella, Yellow Eyes, Rix gives us perfect overture for this atypical protagonist: the story of a childhood spent living on the outskirts of a haunted wasteland (her only company that of a domineering Father), one who has escaped the modern world and deprived Feather a normal life in the process. After escaping this bleak environment, Feather returns to the only world she knows intimately: sand and sea. Here she meets Jimmy Ward, and a close attachment ensues. (The prose here is often littered with bullet-pointed snippets of signs and revelations that give insight into both character's – an unusual form of pacing).

Touch Wood sees the character of Feather shifting into lives in the modern world. Always told from another central character, Touch Wood a small narrative of love espoused in a bar. Although it features a highly unlikable protagonist, it’s blended with both the spiritual and philosophical: the study of particle physics and their relation to the world of being human. 

A central and larger novella, The Magpies introduces us to another character on Feather’s periphery … one who lives in isolation in the Southern European Mountains – a locale where she hopes to find a musical muse. After discovering a dead Magpie on the front stoop, it sends off a chain reaction of feathered ghosts and macabre scenery, ushering her into a confrontation with the muse.

In Book Of Tides Feather again returns to the sea and meets another unlikely male companion: a ghost writer who sees every tale in the next tide. With Feather’s arrival, it brings in a story of death – one forcing her to ultimately leave again with a dawning knowledge stories themselves are the enemy.

Another long novella, To call the Sea opens the curtain to Feather attending College. Another rag-tag cast is assembled, a hundred different artistic outlooks – each one like a moon to Feather’s Jupiter. Abruptly normal college life bursts into an alternate dimension … one like a portal into that strange sea-world Feather inhabits. It's a confusing climax – you never know whether to feel palpably perplexed or just enchanted. As a collective whole, the tales seem like an epic vehicle for the author’s syntax.

It’s the final stories, however, that are crowing jewels.  Displaying a less cerebral style which still showcases a sharp sting, we follow Tallis through the streets of LjubLjana. These are bleak and functional spaces ... one that may remind a reader of Clive Barker's early stylings traversing the streets of Liverpool.

Overall Feather is like one of the more slipstream stories one might encounter in high-school, yet bristling at the seams with unconventional horror. It's a book that potentially serves as a strange metaphor for the author's personal character ... at turns both mythic and seductive.

Arena Of The Wolf By Jim Gavin

Now becoming somewhat accustomed to the type of book Dark Regions Press likes to unleash, I had only a vague idea of what to expect when Arena of the Wolf landed on my desk. After a decade heavily immersed in the landscape of Australia’s dark fiction maestros, many new writers from across the pond have now come into view. Some of these have the bibliographies of seasoned veterans … while others are introducing us into a whole new world of mayhem. Jim Gavin falls into the latter category. With Arena of the Wolf, he takes a well worn creature mythos and tries to breathe new life into it with something innovative and fun.   

An over the road ex-trucker, Jerry wakes up one day to find himself cursed: not only is he now a bona-fide werewolf, he is also forced to participate in a corrupt rodeo fixture where werewolves are the main attraction. Reveling in a blood sport for the entertainment of thousands, he slowly learns to adapt to the climate of being an unwitting celebrity and killer. For the bosses do provide the odd perks – and as long as there is enough beer and whiskey to placate a werewolves dreams of freedom, then perhaps the life of a bestial show-pony isn’t such a bad life after all …

Beginning with first person narration, Jim Gavin takes the reader through a very confusing and oddball story. Here he displays a different kind of writing – a kind of stream-of consciousness twang that takes some getting used to. I will admit that for the most part the prose did not feel comfortable. First and foremost I want to be swept away, but the first part of Jerry’s adventures had me shifting uncomfortably. Although trying to suspend my belief for the sake of the story (this is, after all, supernatural fiction), the oftentimes crude handling of style made me acutely aware I was at all times reading a book.

Things pick up in the second half as Jim switches to omniscient narrator. After barely escaping from his circus prison, our werewolf goes on a hallucinogenic journey that transcends into a revenge mission. This is probably where the strengths of the novella lay … in Jim’s ability to pierce the werewolves curse with flight-of-fancy humor and a gargantuan body count to rival any in horror fiction. The gore element is right on the money, as is the author’s ability to have us sympathizing (and rooting), for our wounded protagonist.

There is definitely an audience for this book, but it falls into a category that is hard to define. A novella should not be a chore, yet there were certainly times Arena of the Wolf felt more like a clinical assignment. Overall, however, these are personal predilections. Jim Gavin is only just beginning to carve a niche for himself, and there is little doubt he will eventually find a dedicated readership.  

Bloody War by Terry Grimwood.

Warfare. After an entire history steeped in it, as we have made our way from one apocalyptic transition to the next, the reasons behind this mind-numbing dance of death are as mysterious now as they were on the first battlefields of history. What is it, precisely, that drives us to kill our own kind? Basic human nature? Resources? The invention of money? It’s a pertinent question we’re still asking to this very day, and with Bloody War, Terry Grimwood attempts an answer via a powerful thriller where modern England has become the theatre for a new kind of bloodshed.   

The carnage comes to Pete Allman guillotine fashion: one morning he wakes up to find more than eighteen months have passed in the blink of an eye. War has managed to penetrate his reasonably cozy existence as a reformed Bikie now working a desk job with a loving wife and three growing children. Things are the same but utterly different: existence has been reduced to a past only read about in history books and viewed in documentaries. Food is rationed, propaganda is pertinent, and the sky is perpetually darkened by the soot and stain of bombs. In order to blend in, Pete must keep up the charade – his ignorance about the enemy (about everything significant to this new reality), will see his undoing if he attracts the wrong kind of attention. But it could also be his savior ... the one thing keeping him alive while buildings, landmarks, and even the people he loves burn all hours of the day and night.

This is a decisive and quick novel, the first person narration easy to digest if a little insipid early on. In the second half, things ratchet up as surprising events force Pete right into the heart of the battle. It is here where Terry’s prose shows the promise we glimpsed early on: a horror writer coming into their own with the canvas of war to showcase tears, blood, and nightmare imagery. Just when things feel familiar, startling new developments arise that see no character safe from the bombs raining down. Pete Allman is a sympathetic protagonist. We root for him as mysteries surrounding the war are peeled back and exposed. 

Is this a political novel? It is if you have been following current world events and have numerous questions surrounding the validity of those events. In this respect, the book works on an emotional level. Really, who are we fighting in any war? Who are the real leaders? The lines are not black and white anymore, if they ever were, and Pete’s personal journey is like a reflection for humanity as a whole. Although the majority march blindly to war drums in any crusade, there is hope, for always a faction will step out of the throng and entice others to follow. With a healthy smattering of George Orwell’s 1984 merged with the cat and mouse chase of film excursions like Minority Report, Terry Grimwood brings modern warfare all bloody and shrieking into the dark heart of Western society.

The Concrete Grove by Gary McMahon

Exactly why Gary McMahon’s profile has managed to avoid my radar until now remains a small mystery, but I imagine the reason is overly simple: a persistent talent has now come more sharply into focus among the mainstream. With a rich and solid publication history in the small press, it was only a matter of time before Gary's longer works gained more mass-market appeal. Whatever the reason, I am glad this initiation has taken place. With The Concrete Grove, Gary McMahon has placed himself at the forefront of innovative dark fiction. Not just for this reviewer personally, but to the greater tribe as a whole.

In the aftermath of a failed marriage resulting in her husband’s suicide, Lana and her fourteen year old daughter Hailey have moved into a large housing estate in a decrepit and crime-addled part of England. Here, poverty reigns king. And so do human beings like Monty Bright, who take advantage of the projects most vulnerable, ruling residents with an iron-clad fist as though the outside world simply does not exist. Drab and soulless, The Concrete Grove is like a physical representation of modern man: a structure reflecting our ultimate failings. When Hailey is rescued by local jogger Tom after a small accident, his introduction into her small family might just be the catalyst needed for hope to return.

But Tom has problems of his own, and his newfound attraction to Lana will not only hamper his efforts to care for his paraplegic wife Helen; it will also be the tipping point that will see him question his own sanity. For The Grove is like a dark amplifier, taking an individuals most potent desires and deforming them. For Hailey, it’s a fascination with the adjacent Needle, a towering and vacant monolith that might just be crux of their mutual foreboding.  Something that could spell either salvation or doom. And for Monty Bright and his lackey’s, it’s like a doorway into a darker realm … one that just needs a little push to open all the way.

One thing that needs to be stated right off the bat: the beautiful way in which Gary handles prose. Regardless of how appealing a reader finds the plot, the syntax in The Concrete Grove is like sublime poetry or dark, elegant music – lines of verse that just screamed to be read out loud because mute they go to waste. At times the dialogue is so sparse as to be non-existent, but I’ve always favored this type of style as a whole. It’s gothic, it’s industrial, and throughout the many scenes neon lights stutter and flicker with the grand maul reckoning of fly-races on an ancient black and white screen.

With many reviews now floating around appraising this desolate excursion, I’ve found it somewhat hard here to accurately describe what makes this novel stand out. If you need optimism in your horror, latch onto something else. But if you’re looking for that species of the genre between antipathy and desire, where the borders between worlds can be narrow, then The Concrete Grove is place you’ll want to visit again and again.  

Dead of Night by Jonathan Maberry

Few writers over the past decade have made quite the triumphant impact on dark fiction than one Jonathan Maberry. In a relatively short space of time, he has cut a gigantic swath through the zombie sub-genre, setting up quarantine to make it his official home and having something new to say each time. As a purveyor of horror fiction for most of my remembered life, I am now at pains to divulge the sad fact Dead of Night is my first incursion into his world.

But what a world it is.

Of course, his epic profile has not escaped my attention; Jonathan seems to be from a league of extraordinary gentleman (a clique including authors such as Kevin J Anderson and Scott Nicholson), who work tirelessly behind the scenes of the publishing frontier. A writer’s writer … but also a fanboy who will take the time out of a brutal schedule to speak to the masses on social media and at programmed events. So when the call came through that a stand-alone zombie extravaganza was in the offing, it seemed like the perfect time to put my hand up and survey the dark places of Jonathan's world. 

A retired Russian spy now working covertly as a penitentiary doctor, Dr. Herman Volker has devised the ultimate vengeance on humanity’s greatest human monsters by concocting a substance that prolongs life even while the body rots. Using his position in the prison hierarchy he injects this serum into condemned serial killer Homer Gibbon with the sure knowledge his body will see burial on prison grounds. But the body does not. Leading Homer Gibbon to awaken in a state that defies comprehension: dead, hungry, and utterly contagious …

Desmodia Fox is a loose canon. A proper small town cop but lacking essential people skills that have seen her labeled a ‘bitch’ by anyone unlucky enough to brush past even her peripheral awareness. Only her partner J.T can see the diamond in the rough ... and when the Zombie apocalypse finally breaks out in Stebbins County, Desmodia’s willful moxie will be the ultimate fighting weapon in a clash to keep everyone they know human.

Right off the bat this is a slick ride, the tone of the author effortless and full of humor. Chapters are even interspersed with the svelte voice of a radio announcer (making me think of Pontypool), as a ferocious storm bears down on the community. The action is jumped up and hot-wired, the language bursting with the textured grain of an exploitation flick. A second plot-strand featuring news reporter Billy Trout (an ex-flame of Dezmodia’s), and his co-worker is where the reader will find the most interesting character development with keen, witty dialogue reminiscent of those who walk among us.

But all of this would be meaningless without our main power-players: the dead. Here they stroll through the pages with every vital ingredient to make the gut churn. It’s the reaction of our humans that make them truthful: in their genuine loathing of the parasites we encounter a species of zombie original in conception as the primary concoction of Dr. Volker continues to do its work. A mass metamorphosis then ensues bringing about a different species … but it’s the original that remains the most terrifying: being trapped within a prison of undead flesh while still aware of everything that was once you and praying for a second, more secure embrace of the afterlife.

For me, there is only one pet peeve here, and it’s a quirk pertinent to dozens of books and movies in the genre: for our character's to embrace the word ‘zombie’ only within the final stage … as if all the literature and celluloid to have come before has never existed. However, I'm hardly the Zombiephile on these Australian shores, so lore isn't exactly my sticking point.

With Dead of Night, Jonathan Maberry gives us a stand alone Zombie novel exceeding expectations. This is how the world ends. Not with a bang … but a bite.

Ghosts In A Desert World

Today marks the publication of a revised edition of Ghosts In A Desert World as an ebook. It is currently available at Smashwords and will soon be available in the Kindle store.

Description: From apartments haunted by ghosts both internal and external, and horror museums masquerading as doorways, to towns where vehicular manslaughter is a way of life, and highways are a preying ground for monsters, GHOSTS IN A DESERT WORLD is a collection of 13 macabre tales designed to chill you the core.

Interweaving dark and oftentimes socially relevant themes, with the spiritual and philosophical, GHOSTS IN A DESERT WORLD will make you think, even while leaving you afraid to turn the lights out.

"In particular I liked the author's handling of the blood work. I keep saying it and no one is listening: good horror writers have an inborn ability to limit their own prose without rubbing a reader’s nose in the visceral. Matthew Tait, on the evidence in this collection, is a good horror writer" – Scary Minds. 

The Gaki and Other Hungry Spirits by Stephen Mark Rainey

My second title from Dark Regions Press in as many weeks, this is the kind of collection I knew would appeal to my predilection even before plunging into the first tale. A glossy novella, The Gaki and Other Hungry Spirits is short, sweet, and interspersed with stories lean on dialogue yet heavy with sensory description. Here, Stephen has tasked himself with bringing to life the hungry ghosts of Japanese Buddhism. And although each story is decidedly different, there is still a pertinent theme running though the whole like slivers in a larger current.

With our first outing The Gaki, Rainey gives us the first-person narration of David, a questing soul seeking out a cabal of kindred spirits who gather by the banks of the Cooper River to keep their pious desires alive. Here David encounters a wandering spirit … and the consequences of being marked by one. It’s a fitting opener, displaying smart writing with (Lovecraftian) overtones for a modern audience.

Stories that stood out:

Festival of the Jackal (Off Broadway). Contains the sort of prose that bites with subtle comedy, our protagonist makes astute observations about the mire of modern living before a chance encounter with New York demons alters him into something more primitive and bestial (but somehow more attractive), than any 9-5 suit-wearing ass-clown. Similar to others before it, Festival of the Jackal is like a cross-pollination of Bret Easton Ellis meeting the message of Clive Barker.

Terror from the Middle Island (in collaboration with Durant Haire), takes us back to the territory of Wyoming over a century ago  ... and a priests homecoming to the site of a massacre that claimed the life of his grandfather. Not only does the Reverend stir up old ghosts, he encounters an ancient deity not of the cross but still worthy of devotion. Other outings like Demon Jar, Abroyel, and Free Sample all bear the mark of a mature dark fiction scribe with credible style.

There are many collections today with a hit and miss ratio; disparate tales shoved together haphazardly ... but I found none of that contrast here. A mostly seamless collection, the only real criticism I can level is the occasional guillotine/style endings that (may) leave a few question marks. However, don’t let such subtle things sway you. With The Gaki and Other Hungry Spirits, Stephen Mark Rainey gives you more than enough reason to seek out his other work.