Jack MacLane’s Blood Dreams

I read Jack MacLane’s Blood Dreams this week. It’s pretty much exactly the kind of thing that you’d expect from its awesome cover. This is a pretty standard “Paperback from Hell“.

Larry, a 10 year old boy who has premonitions of other people’s (bloody) deaths, moves to a new town and forms a psychic link with Hubert, the local sadistic murderer. Hubert isn’t happy about this and decides to solve the problem in the only way he knows.

There’s a lot of soft drinks being drank in here, and at one point the killer is seen reading Joe Lansdale’s The Drive-In, but other than that, there was nothing particularly surprising about this book. That’s not to say that I didn’t enjoy it though. I finished it over a few days, and while it’s not exactly a masterwork of fiction, I was decently entertained.

This isn’t the book I intended to post about this week. I’m reading an extremely bizarre book about Satanism that is taking me a long time to finish. Hopefully I’ll get a bit of time over Christmas to finish that one off.

Michael McDowell’s The Elementals

I didn’t think I was going to get a post out today, but I managed to abandon my family and read this morning, and I’ve just finished Michael McDowell’s The Elementals. I’ve wanted to read something by Michael McDowell for years, and this didn’t disappoint.

This is very much a haunted house novel, and while that’s not my favourite genre, it can be very enjoyable when done right. McDowell gets the right mix of characterization, suspense and downright nastiness here.

A rich family own three houses on a remote, private beach. One of these houses has something really bad in it. Everyone knows to stay away from it, but when India, the youngest member of the family pays her first visit, she has to go and take a peek inside. The atmosphere builds and builds, and the ending has everything that you could possibly hope for.

If this was 3 years ago, I would have waited until I had read 3 or 4 of McDowell’s novels to post about him, and while I do intend to read more of his books, I just don’t have the time to read multiple books a week anymore. There’s only a week left until Christmas holidays, so hopefully I’ll be able to read more then.

Victor LaValle’s The Ballad of Black Tom

The Horror at Red Hook is probably H.P. Lovecraft‘s most racist story. Sure, there are dodgy cats and demeaning comments in other tales, but Red Hook is as much a rant on how disgusting Howard found immigrants as it is a horror story. It’s not even a particularly good story, relying on the threat of black magic rather than the cosmic horror which fuels Lovecraft’s more effective nightmares.

A detective, Malone, goes insane after investigating Robert Suydam, a black magician who has been cavorting with the immigrant scum of Red Hook, a slum in New York. The story involves much of the usual Lovecraft stuff, subterranean vaults, reanimation and a protagonist who loses his mind… It’s pretty forgettable, but it comes up frequently as an example of Lovecraft’s hateful views. It’s bad, but it pales in comparison to his poem, “On the Creation of …”.

I have been planning to read something by Victor LaValle for a while, and when I found an audiobook version of his retelling of Red Hook, I snatched it. It’s been a while since I read anything Lovecraftian, and this novella won a Shirley Jackson award.

The Ballad of Black Tom – Victor LaValle

In this version of the story, Suydam enlists the help of Black Tom, a hustler turned guitar player. Tom becomes the main character, and the black magic of the original story is replaced with Cthulhu cult stuff that we’ve all come to expect (and desire) from a modern Lovecraftian tale.

LaValle takes an infamously racist story and gives it a black protagonist. While it does deal with the discrimination this character faces because of his race, the story never feels preachy or overly didactic.

In truth, there’s nothing hugely revolutionary about this tale, but it delivered pretty much everything I wanted. I was entertained from start to finish, and it made me want to read more Lovecraftian stuff and also more by Victor LaValle. Check it out if you can.

Also, I didn’t realise this until after I made the post, but last week’s post on the Zodiac Killer was actually my 500th blog post on this site. That’s a lot of books.

“I got worms.” – Nick Cutter’s The Troop

I don’t read a lot of recent horror, but somehow I got the idea that Nick Cutter’s The Troop would be worth reading. I got an audiobook version from my local library, and spent a week listening to this as I was lying in bed. I enjoyed it immensely.

A troop of boy scouts is on a camping trip on a remote Canadian island. Unfortunately for them, a man with a minging, extremely contagious worm parasite ends up on the same island and ruins their trip.

I’ve read plenty of books that exist for the sole sake of grossing the reader out. A lot of splatterpunk stuff tries so hard to be disgusting that it completely neglects the elements of suspense and character. The Troop left me feeling nauseous, but it’s also a very enjoyable story. I’ve seen some criticism directed at the fact that the characters are all stock characters (the nerd, the jock, the troubled youth, the nice guy and the weirdo), and while this is a fair criticism, the scouts do have enough depth to make the reader care about them. The novel is partly epistolary, and the chapters are interspersed with newspaper documents and excerpts from a court case. I thought this worked really well in creating tension and setting the tone.

This novel is disgusting body horror done properly. Seriously, one scene (the bit with the monkey) literally made me sit up in bed because I thought I was going to vomit. The Troop is gross and entertaining. I had a great time reading it.

Happy Halloween! Short stories from Al Sarrantonio

Happy Halloween, freaks! It’s been quite a while since I featured a book with a pumpkin on the cover. So here’s something by Al Sarrantonio.

I went through a Sarrantonio phase a few years ago. I enjoyed all of the books I read by him, but most of the ones I haven’t read seem to have Halloweeny titles. This gives me limited window during the year to check them out. I gave his short story collection Halloween and Other Seasons a go this October. Here’s what I remember from the stories:

Summer	Summer gets hotter and hotter until everyone dies. The fact that this is literally happening made this story less enjoyable than it probably was when it was written.
Sleepover	Kids abandoned by their parents into a realm of blackness.
Eels	Unpleasant dad takes kid out to sea to drown him, but kid is an eel.
Letters from camp	Summer camp run by bad robots.
Roger in the Womb	Baby refuses to be born. Uses morse code to contact outside
The Return of Mad Santa	exactly what you’d think.
Baby Boss and the Underground Hamasters	Bizarre screenplay about talking hamsters and a chicken. I let my children listen to this. They loved it.
Trail of the Chromium Bandits	Western that turns into sci-fi.
The Man in the Other Car	Excellent story about man getting mad driving his family to park. This was the absolute highlight of this collection. Grim ending.
Hedges	Awful teacher becomes part of a bush. Weird. Not in a good way.
The Silly Stuff	Reporter meets Charles Fort who is an alien
The New Kid	A new kid shows up and stops the bullies bullying the old new kid. Then old new kid turns into new new kid. A story so predictable and not interesting that it made me want to quit this book.
Ahead of the Joneses	Jealous neighbours outdo each other. Silly.
The Artist in the small room above.	Weird sci-fi. An emotional muse inspires music so emotional it kills.
The Dancing Foot	Guy pushes girl in front of train. Her foot comes back for revenge.
Liberty	Another western. A nasty guy takes advantage of pioneer Americans.
Dust	A family enters a dust cloud while driving through some mountains. It becomes considerably more difficult to deal with than they imagined.
The Pumpkin Boy	This is the longest story by far, and it’s actually part of Sarrantonio’s Orangefield cycle. I haven’t read those books yet, and while I got the feeling it was referencing those stories now and again, this story does work by itself. A weird pumpkin robot boy shows up and some kids go missing.

I quite enjoyed this collection. I don’t think it was quite as consistent as Toybox (the only other collection of Sarrantonio’s short fiction that I’ve read). Halloween was published over a decade after Toybox, but some of the stories are considerably older than the ones in that earlier collection. A few of these older stories clearly weren’t good enough for Toybox. That said, I was still decently entertained throughout. I might try to read the rest of the Orangefield books next year.

Have a spooky one!

Aron Beauregard’s The Cuck

I saw this cover and couldn’t resist.

Two lads go to a lonely woman’s house to have sex with her. When they get there, an old man watches them. Afterwards, the old man appears any time the lads do anything sexual and convinces them to mutilate their genitalia.

This was published as its own book, but it’s really just a short story. My expectations weren’t particularly high going in, and I can happily say that I was in no way disappointed. This book does contain a perverted old man and some disgusting dick abuse.

The only thing that confused me was the title. The old man is not actually married, so he isn’t really a cuckold. It’s funny to call people (or demons) a cuck, but multiple characters arrive at this appellation independently. Weird. Again though, I didn’t expect much in terms of sensibleness when I started this book.

The Cuck was not high literature, but it gave me a few chuckles.

On a marginally related note, I came across this book online a few days ago. There’s no ebook versions and hard copies cost about $100, so I’m probably never going to read it, but it looks seriously bizarre. (If somebody wants to buy it for me, I will review it here!)

Be careful. There are clearly some real sickos out there.

Please Don’t Finger Me: Maurice Renard’s The Hands of Orlac

I don’t remember how The Hands of Orlac ended up on my to-read list, but I’ve wanted to read it for years. Although it was a popular novel in France, and a few movie versions have been made, copies of the English translations were hard to come by (up until very recently).The first translation came out in 1929, but a second translation by Iain White was published in 1981. A new one by D.H. Bernhardt came out more recently, and that one is widely available as an ebook. I read White’s translation.

**Souvenir Press – 1981 (first published 1920)**

So a famous pianist is hurt in a train accident. When his wife shows up at the wreckage, she sees a ghost hovering near her bloodied and unconscious husband. A doctor manages to save him, but his hands are all messed up. Stuff starts to go missing from their house and bloody daggers keep showing up.

Reading this novel was a chore. It took me 2 weeks to get through the first hundred pages. The main character is the pianist’s annoying wife, and for every paragraph of plot there are 3 pages of her emotions. Maybe the translation had something to do with it, but I found this book to be unbearably overwritten. I rarely managed more than a couple of pages before turning the lights off to go to sleep. I wanted to give up, but forced myself to power through the last 20 pages over a couple of evenings last week.

There’s a few mysterious things happening in the book, but none of them are interesting except the suggestion that a decapitated murderer has been revived and that he has started to kill again. At this point my interest was piqued, but a few pages later it turns out there is another, far less cool, explanation. By the end of the book, everything has been explained rationally.

I hate it when that happens.

I don’t know. Maybe mystery fans will enjoy this, but I thought it was crap. If you want to read a better book about evil hand transplants, I would suggest Martin Thomas’s The Hand of Cain.

The Grimoire Inspired by a Children’s Book written by a Sex Pest: Var Von Brennos’ Gravelording

Long time readers of Nocturnal Revelries may recall an era (mostly 2018 – 2019) when the blog focused on strange grimoires of black magic. Most of these books are boring garbage, and I don’t read many anymore, but occasionally I come across something that piques my curiosity. Such was the case when I found a copy of a book called Gravelording by Var Von Brennos. What the Hell is Gravelording? The book in question was short, so I decided to find out.

Gravelording – Var Von Brennos

Gravelording is becoming a Lord of a Graveyard. Being a Gravelord allows one to converse with the dead and to order them around to do ones bidding. To become a Gravelord takes a huge amount of time and effort, and I am entirely certain the process outlined in this book has never been carried out by any human being. The basic idea is that you spend your nights in a Graveyard and limit your sleep and food intake to bring you closer to death. There’s also instructions on how to make a wand, how to open a Ghoul Gate, and how to reanimate a corpse. The reanimation part is very vague about why you would want to do so.

Most of the book is written in deliberately archaic English, but Var Von Brennos occasionally lapses into the vernacular and tells his readers not to be sloppy (when exhuming corpses from abandoned graveyards).

I enjoyed reading this book for the most part. It reads like something out of a horror story. It advocates the kind of behaviour that you’d expect from a ghoul. This is not surprising considering the fact that the only webpage I can find that discusses the author claims that his background is in Lovecraftian Sorcery. My only real critique of this book is that it seems to be creepiness for the sake of creepiness. The whole concept of this book is so far away from anything that a normal person would ever want to do that it almost felt like a prop book from the set of a horror movie. If I’m wrong about this, I’d love to hear from any true Gravelords out there.

When I got to the end of the book, I glanced through the bibliography and saw some old friends. There, beside the works of Lovecraft were listed Leilah Wendell’s The Necromantic Ritual Book and Liber Falxifer. There were a few other grimoires listed and a book by Neil Gaiman called The Graveyard Book. This caught my eye as I had actually glanced through a copy of the graphic novel version of Gaiman’s book on that very same day. I’d been meaning to read something by Gaiman for a while, so I decided to give it a look. One does not ignore such synchronicities! Once I started reading The Graveyard Book, Gravelording began to make a lot more sense.

The Graveyard Book – Neil Gaiman

**Harper Collins – 2018 (First published 2008)**

The Graveyard Book is the story of Bod Owens, a child who grows up in an abandoned graveyard after his parents are murdered. He converses with the dead, travels through Ghoul Gates and has the spirits of the dead protect and empower him. It’s a book written for 9-12 year old children, but it has clearly been a huge inspiration on Von Brennos’ work of sinister black magic. Some of the magical incantations in his grimoire are directly lifted from Gaiman’s novel.

Some panels from the graphic novel version of *The Graveyard Book* and some lines from *Gravelording*.

So, to tell the truth, I actually haven’t finished The Graveyard Book yet. I’m listening to the audiobook, and I still have a few chapters left. I’m a bit annoyed though because I was really enjoying the book, and I googled it to see what age group it was initially aimed at. I saw that this book is currently in the news because Disney have just stopped a movie version being produced. Apparently Neil Gaiman has been accused of sexual misconduct by 5 different women. Now I obviously don’t know the ins out outs of Gaiman’s sex life, but from what I have read, he does seem to have been quite the creep. This is quite disappointing. Still though, The Graveyard Book is an enjoyable read. If you want to check it out, make sure you pirate a copy so you’re not giving any money to Greasy Gaiman.

Horror Double Feature (Bugs and Slugs): Lovers Living Lovers Dead and The Morgow Rises!

I read 2 books this week, and I don’t have a huge amount to say about either, so I’m putting them both in one post:

Lovers Living Lovers Dead – Richard Lortz

On December 29th, 2019, I received an email recommending that I read this book. I got around to it this week. This is the story of Michael and Christine’s messed up marriage. Christine is way younger than Michael, and she’s a bit weird. She acts like a freak, and small, flying creatures are irresistibly drawn to her. Michael makes her go to a psychiatrist, but the psychiatrist convinces him to look into his wife’s secret box. He doesn’t like what he finds in there. Oh no, he doesn’t.

I quite enjoyed this up until he opens the forbidden chest of secret mystery. I got a bit grossed out after that part. It reminded me a bit of Craig Jones’ Blood Secrets. I read the book very quickly, and finished it just 3 or 4 days ago, but to tell the truth, I can’t really remember how it ended. It was an entertaining read though. Thank you to Александр for the recommendation!

The Morgow Rises! – Peter Tremayne

After finishing Lovers Living Lovers Dead, I immediately started reading Peter Tremayne’s The Morgow Rises! This book has become a collector’s item because of the awesome cover art, but as a novel, it’s bottom of the barrel muck. This is terrible, unimaginative tripe.

A big slug kills some people. There’s a witch, some nuclear waste and the least memorable characters I’ve ever come across. Overwritten shit. I’ve read my fair share of trashy horror novels about worms, and this is definitely the worst I’ve come across. I really didn’t want to read past the first few chapters and ended up just skimming the last half of the book. The cover is a gross misrepresentation of the majority of what happens in this book. It’s mostly about opportunistic newspaper reporters and Cornish men drinking pints.

I read this after coming across a mention of the Morgow in Jenny Randle’s Mind Monsters. I looked it up online, and apparently the “Morgawr” lake monster was invented in 1975.

Vlad the Impaler’s Demon Cock: John Shirley’s Dracula in Love

I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed a novel less than I enjoyed Dracula in Love. I started it during the hectic last week of my summer holidays and finished it over a nasty bout of jetlag, and I’m sure these circumstances had something to do with me struggling to get through more than a few paragraphs at a time. Also, I got through a fair bit of the text with an audiobook from Encyclopocalypse. I love when publishers put out old books like this as audiobooks, but the narrator did silly voices for each character, and that really annoyed me. To be honest, a lot of things have been annoying me recently.

Lucifer visits Dracula’s son (His name is Vlad Horescu. Sounds a lot like that guy who wrote that other book on Dracula, doesn’t it?) and asks him to help trapping the King of the Vampires. Dracula rapes a few women with his demon cock and inspires rape waves wherever he goes. It turns out he only got back in touch with his son because Vlad Junior is high up in a computer company and is capable of hijacking software that will give Dracula enough influence over the economy and politics of Brazil that he will be able to become an Emperor there. His plan is foiled when he is sucked into Lucifer’s giant vagina.

On the plus side, this is gory and gross and features sentient genitalia. Unfortunately though, the plot is confusing, the characters are unlikeable, and the whole thing is overwritten. I have a high tolerance for crap, but I really had to force myself to get through this one. In fairness, the author was only 18 when it was written, so maybe his other books are better. It’ll be a while before i get around to them.