Tag Archives: Horror

Hades’ Disciples by Michael West #review

Michael West

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Title : Hades’ Disciples ( The Legacy of the Gods : Book 2 )
Author: Michael West
Published: 2014
Pages:: 301
Format:: ebook

Terrifying creatures exist all around us, hiding in plain sight. Ancient. Deadly. They gather in secret, conspiring, dreaming of nothing less than humanity’s destruction, and their numbers are growing.

Earl Preston knows the danger all too well. After tangling with a horde of mythological sea monsters in Colonial Bay, he has been tasked with finding these beasts and exposing their plans whatever they may be. But Earl is not the only one with a mystery on their hands. At the very top of the world, Carol Miyagi has stumbled onto an artifact from Earth’s past, something magnificent held captive in a prison of ice and snow. Now, Carol and Earl must work quickly to decipher the will of the gods–a plot that defies imagination–and to stop their followers from carrying it out.

They thought the nightmare was over, but they are about to discover that the horror has only just begun.

 

This is a seriously good series that I wish more people knew about. I enjoyed book one which I read ages ago. The only problem I had with reading book two was that some things I had forgotten so reading the two books closer together would have been beneficial. The series continues with mythological and fantasy creatures tied to modern day. We have good guys in a race against time to keep the bad guys from implementing their evil plan. Well written characters that are so fascinating to read about I so want to get my hands on book three. Michael has written what is a super fun and entertaining urban fantasy that gets the reader hooked and desperate for more. You’ll also have a sex scene that will blow your mind. For a man who is arachnophobic Michael sure does go in depth in their sex lives.

Hurry and write book three Michael and put us out of our misery, that was one mega cliffhanger.

Highly recommended.

Michael West

 

Sour Candy by Kealan Patrick Burke #review

Kealan Patrick Burke

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Title : Sour Candy
Author: Kealan Patrick Burke
Published: 2015
Pages:: 67
Format:: ebook

 

At first glance, Phil Pendelton and his son Adam are just an ordinary father and son, no different from any other. They take walks in the park together, visit county fairs, museums, and zoos, and eat together overlooking the lake. Some might say the father is a little too accommodating given the lack of discipline when the child loses his temper in public. Some might say he spoils his son by allowing him to eat candy whenever he wants and set his own bedtimes. Some might say that such leniency is starting to take its toll on the father, given how his health has declined.

What no one knows is that Phil is a prisoner, and that up until a few weeks ago and a chance encounter at a grocery store, he had never seen the child before in his life.

A new novella from the Bram Stoker Award-winning author of THE TURTLE BOY and KIN.

I’ve never wanted kids. At 35 I still have people ask me when I’ll have some. Most don’t like when I say never. I apparently have no clue what I want in life because they are all so sure I’ll change my mind. Oddly the older I get the more I don’t want kids and happier I am that I am child free. I don’t like being around kids when they are screaming at the top of their lungs and parents don’t tell them to behave. I find the idea of pregnancy to be revolting. This book for someone like myself is quite frankly chilling, it is sheer and pure hell.

That being said I loved this book. It is such a well written piece of horror that I instantly went and bought another of the authors books.

Imagine going out to buy groceries and while there in the isle minding your own business a child lets our a blood curdling scream. Imagine that when you go home after a very strange day that child is there waiting for you. Daddy have some candy it says. And so begins the hell that is your life. A psychological horror more so than blood and guts but chill you to the marrow it will. Brilliantly written the child and adult are perfectly done characters who’s story will hook you even if you are terrified. The ending continues the terror and left me not just not wanting children but terrified of being anywhere near one.

Read this book!

Lakebridge Autumn by Natasha Troop #review @lakebridgecycle

Natasha Troop

The town of Stansbury, Vermont has survived over four hundred years of tragic events. The town survived because otherworldly beings and powerful humans have always controlled the lives of the people willed them to forget each terrible event.

As the bloody conflict between those forces has been raging, the people have stopped forgetting. Fear and grief have replaced peaceful ignorance and the powers that be no longer care.

In Lakebridge: Autumn, Stansbury will fall.


I was introduced to author Natasha Troop quite a while back. I’ve been a fan from the moment I read her first book in the Lakebridge Cycle series. She is very talented, so much so I suspect it seeps from her pores and makes her glow or sweat profusely, however extreme talent manifests itself her cups runneth over.

The series she has created has hooked me so much, I feel an almost manic obsession in regards to them. It must be like what George R.R. Martin fans feel ( I haven’t read the books – looks at TBR mountain ) . When is the next book coming? WHEN IS WINTER COMING?????????? OMG STOP TORTURING USSSSSS!!!!

Yes Natasha when, when is Winter coming? I say that and then when it’s here in my hands I will sit there with glee and then it will dawn on me that the seasons have come and now they are gone and then I will cry and be bitter and sad that its come to an end. See this emotional turmoil she has created?

I am at her mercy, she has created a series so strong I truly admire her abilities. A town that I feel so much for, that I’ve been engrossed by. Characters I feel so much for and have become special to me. The Lakebridge Cycle is an engrossing literary series.

Spring crafted a brilliant foundation to the story. So eerie

Summer flourished destructively so and elaborated on the setting and people

Autumn tore so much apart

And Winter is coming.

Natasha writes in a style I love. It’s not for everyone granted but I myself enjoyed it. The stream of conscience and from so many points of view moose/meese and dogs and cats included I feel is part of what makes the story, the characters so endearing to the reader. Ps. I love that moose.

Her writing style is easy to read and flows so well. I was obsessive reading this story and just sat there with my nose in the book. The story I love so much Stansbury and all the people in the town and that damn bridge. A talented author and fascinating series. I recommended it wholeheartedly. I would suggest for new readers to start at book one but start you should. If this doesn’t convince you read my reviews of Lakebridge Spring and Lakebridge Summer.

The Lakebridge Series including Autumn can be found on Book Depository and Amazon

 

Hades Disciples by Michael West #horror @byMichaelWest

Michael West

 

It’s a pleasure to welcome horror author and horror fanatic Michael West. It amazes me how he can go to a convention and have a tee to wear for every photo op with every celebrity. How he does this I do not know. I admire it though and try and control my own buying of tees because well there is only so much money to go around. Pity.I’ve asked Michael to share which of these t-shirts is his top 10 favourite.

This coincides with his newest horror book release which I am awaiting eagerly. I’ve ordered it in limited edition signed hardcover. Envy me people. I’ve reviewed his previous one in the series Poseidon’s Children and enjoyed it so much. Based on the illustrations I can tell there is more spine tingling fun and freaky sex. Thanks Michael 🙂

Michael West

Terrifying creatures exist all around us, hiding in plain sight. Ancient. Deadly. They gather in secret, conspiring, dreaming of nothing less than humanity’s destruction, and their numbers are growing.

Earl Preston knows the danger all too well. After tangling with a horde of mythological sea monsters in Colonial Bay, he has been tasked with finding these beasts and exposing their plans whatever they may be. But Earl is not the only one with a mystery on their hands. At the very top of the world, Carol Miyagi has stumbled onto an artifact from Earth’s past, something magnificent held captive in a prison of ice and snow. Now, Carol and Earl must work quickly to decipher the will of the gods–a plot that defies imagination–and to stop their followers from carrying it out.

They thought the nightmare was over, but they are about to discover that the horror has only just begun.

Hades Disciples is Book Two in the Legacy of the Gods Series.

Michael West

Top Ten Horror Shirts I Own
I have hundreds and hundreds of shirts, so it was tough to narrow it down to 10, but here are some that hold special meaning, or that I wear frequently…
1. Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Limited Edition. I LOVE this shirt! It is a collage of faces and scenes from the movie, and on the back, it has the quote from Edgar Allan Poe: “Sleep, those little slices of death–how I loathe them.” I wore it when I met Robert Englund. Just…awesome!
2. John Carpenter’s The Thing. One of the best Horror films ever made IMHO. Plus, I wore it when I met John Carpenter, so it holds a special place in my heart.

The Thing
3. Bride of Re-Animator. I just love the design! It has the bride ripping her heart out, the head flying around on bat wings, and the eyeball walking around on fingers.
4. Return of the Living Dead: Tar-Man Limited Edition. It was designed by William Stout, who created Tar-man. Love it!
5. Edgar Allan Poe. It has the raven, skulls, a tell-tale heart, and the man himself in the middle of it all. I like to wear it while I write. It inspires me.

Poe
6. Pumpkinhead. I LOVE Pumpkinhead! When I see a shirt of him, I have to get it, and I love them all.

Pumpinhead
7. C.H.U.D. One of my favorite 80s Horror films, and just an awesome design. It doesn’t glow in the dark, but it looks like it should.

C.H.U.D.
8. “You’re so cool, Brewster!” from Fright Night. I love the film, and the Evil Ed character, and it’s one of my favorite lines.
9. Silent Night, Deadly Night. I wear it every Christmas.
10. Thanksgiving. I couldn’t believe they made a shirt from Eli Roth’s Grindhouse trailer, but they did, and I had to have it. I wear it every Thanksgiving.

michaeltees

HadesMichaelWest

 

 

MichaelWestAuthorPhotoAbout the author: Michael West is the bestselling author of Cinema of Shadows, Skull Full of Kisses, The Wide Game, Spook House, and the critically acclaimed Legacy of the Gods series. He lives and works in the Indianapolis area with his wife, their two children, their turtle, Gamera, and their dog, King Seesar.

 

West avoids manhole covers and sidewalk grates whenever possible. He just doesn’t know what’s down there, and he’s not sure he wants to find out.

Michael can be found on Web site / Twitter / Facebook / Publisher

Hades Disciples is available in print and ebook

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Longclaws by Steve Peek book blast #giveaway

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Welcome to the Longclaws book blast. This one of a kind horror novel by Steve Peek is an amazing journey into a different kind of horror story, with a new version of the mythology the reader might not expect.

With an average of 4.7 stars out of 5, this is an amazing book that will take you places you don’t expect. Interested? Read more!

Blurb

 

Longclaws COVER Spearhead 02-12-14Their world is crowded with active volcanoes, sulfur and acid rains, permanent thick clouds turn day into deep twilight. It is a violent place: moment-to-moment survival is victory, every creature is constantly predator and prey, sleep is certain death.
This is home to the longclaws, beings of super-human speed, strength and senses. Their predatory skills allow them only a tenuous niche in their hellish environment. Though smart and fierce, their rank in the food chain is far below the top. One clan leader draws from ancient legends of paradise and devises a plan to escape and take his clan to the otherworld – a world filled with slow, defenseless prey.
The clan activates an Indian mound deep in southern forests and enters our world -hungry for prey.
Torrential rains and washed out bridges force a runaway teen, an old dowser and a Cherokee healer to face the horrors of the clan’s merciless onslaught.
Mankind’s legends are filled with vampires, werewolves, dragons and other nightmarish. Perhaps our legend of hell is based on the world of the Longclaws.

meet-the-author

Steve PeekSteve has only recently seriously taken to writing. Though he wrote and managed to have a couple of books published during his life, something clicked a few years ago and now, for better or worse, he sits at his table researching and writing about things that interest him.
His wife, Annie takes care of him. She keeps him eating too well and laughing often in their old farmhouse halfway up the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Steve’s forty year career in the game industry allowed him to travel extensively and explore histories and myths of peoples and places.
His books on Amazon include:

Longclaws, Alien Agenda, Coyote Dreaming, Otherworld and The Game Inventors Handbook.

In addition to writing, he works in a vegetable garden trying not to be herbicidal, walks in the woods with a rescued dog and gathers imaginary eggs from a few cut-out, wooden hens.
e loves all things ancient and appreciates the magic of life and the interconnection of all things. He would like to hear from you via jstephenpeek on facebook or send me a message via his contact form.

excerpt

After Father came home from work, they piled into their family car: a six-year-old 1949 Oldsmobile Futuramic station wagon. Painted hunter green, their car possessed real wood trim around the side windows.
He and his brother sat on blankets in the back, where the third seat had been laid flat to create space for them and the two suitcases. Tom’s sisters—Amanda and Allison—occupied the backseat, with a picnic basket between them.
The basket contained sandwiches and cookies, as well as two of their mother’s green-apple pies that she had made for the new widow in Alabama. Tires in those days were real rubber and produced hypnotic, whining sounds as the car cruised along the highway, causing occasional dogs to give chase.
Their father started the car and enumerated the road-trip rules for the Mason family, which applied only to the Mason kids: no horseplay, no loud talking, no teasing brothers or sisters. They could play games, talk, or tell stories, but in low voices. If they stopped, everyone would go to the bathroom, real bathroom available or not. Their estimated time of arrival was 10:00 p.m. The host family and their guests might all be asleep or ready for bed, so as soon as introductions concluded, the kids were to go to sleep wherever their host placed them.
The Futuramic hummed through the moonless darkness. Boredom settled in, and sleep overtook all the kids except Tom. Tom clipped his Boy Scout flashlight to the neck of his T-shirt and reread the Superman annual comic book for the thirtieth time.
Tom felt the car slow and then turn onto a dirt road packed hard by a summer of little rain. The tires vibrated on short stretches of washboard ruts in the dirt road. Tom sensed the edge of motion sickness, so he put away his comic and sat up to stare out the back window through an accumulating layer of reddish dust.
His brother, Russ, slept at his side. At fourteen—the oldest of the Mason kids—their parents expected Russ to become the surrogate father when adults were absent. Tom never admitted it, but he idolized his brother. Russ was as close to a hero as Tom could imagine. Tom knew he could depend on Russ, no matter what.
Amanda, two years Tom’s senior, was the more feminine of the two sisters. Allison—one year older than her sister and the prettier of the two—preferred mud fights and tree climbing to dolls and frilly dresses. She tried to mother Tom when he hurt himself or fell ill, but Tom would have none of it.
Tom stared out the back window. The taillights cast a scary, red glow behind the car as the tires kicked up dust, which twisted into horizontal dirt-devils streaming from the rear of the car. Beyond the red glow of the taillights, the complete darkness frightened Tom a little.
Tom’s father and mother exchanged words. His mom twisted her body and faced the backseats. “Wake up kids. We are going to be there in a few minutes. Wake up and make yourselves presentable.”
The sisters stirred, emerging from whatever dreams had been born of the bouncy car and the background rhythm of the eight-cylinder engine.
Mother looked past the girls at him and said, “Tom, wake up your brother. We are almost there.”
Knowing they would be at their mysterious destination soon, Tom’s phobia of meeting new people—especially new kids—welled up, feeling like the anxiety of walking to school to face a waiting bully.
Without taking his eyes off the illuminated portion of the road, their father said aloud, as if making an announcement over the school intercom, “I want you on your best behavior. The folks here are good people. They are our relatives. If an adult asks you to do something, do it.”
He cleared his throat and continued, “So mind your Ps and Qs. Oh, and one more thing: last time I visited, they did not have a bathroom in the house; they have an outhouse.”
He paused as if preparing to issue a warning or instruction, thought better, and simply said, “You’ll get used to it. But until you do, no complaining.”
Tom saw some lights up ahead: an island in the dark.
When they turned right onto the track serving as the driveway to the old country house standing fifty yards from the road, Tom looked at the layout. The front yard was not really a yard at all. Once part of a forest, it had been cleared long ago, and now only a few huge pine trees were left, rising over beds of needles. Tall grass grew here and there, but gave way to dirt paths where people had walked between the pines.
Light came from every window. An electrical wire stretched fifty feet from the top of the front porch to the biggest pine tree Tom had ever seen. Six bare bulbs—affixed to the wire—dangled about seven feet above the ground.
In one of the circles of light beneath the wire, folding chairs formed a perimeter. The chairs were occupied by men of all ages. In the center of the group, where a fire might be in fall, sat a large washtub filled with melted ice and bottles of Coca-Cola, RC, and Nehi soda pop. The men stopped talking to study the Masons’ car.
“Hello, stranger,” one of them called, walking toward their car. Their father nearly leapt out of the car and grabbed the man’s extended hand, which quickly pulled them together for a hug.
Russ and Tom climbed out the tailgate and stood alongside the car, watching as a group of twelve or fifteen men and kids approached from the string of light bulbs.
The house looked as if it had never seen a coat of paint. The gray planks warped and strained against the rusty nails, which bled dark-red streaks from years of rain. The steep, tin roof was nearly invisible in the night sky. Where the main metal roof ended, another began. A shallow slope formed a roof for the porch, which ran across the front and left sides of the house.
Underneath the porch roof, bare bulbs with dangling pull-strings cast a yellow glow on all the women sitting in rockers. Conversation halted while they examined the new arrivals.
“This is my cousin, Royce.” Their father indicated the man he’d hugged.
“Hello, Royce,” their mother replied with a smile, adding, “Children, say hello to your cousin Royce.”
The man was tall and thin, but somehow seemed stronger than he looked.
“Hello, ma’am,” he said, offering his hand to their mother.

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