Tag Archives: Horror

Wakenhyrst by Michelle Paver

Head of Zeus | 2019 (4 April) | 359p | Review copy | Buy the book

Wakenhyrst by Michelle PaverIt is 1966 and Maud Stearne has lived a reclusive life for over fifty years, living alone but for her cook in Wake’s End, her large house in the tiny hamlet of Wakenhyrst in the Suffolk fens. The outside world has left Maud in peace for many of those years but now that might be about to change, thanks to the recent discovery of her father’s remarkable paintings. These portray a tortured mind, reminding the world what happened sixty years before during the Edwardian period. Maud’s father murdered somebody in a terrible fashion and Maud was the only witness. She’s never talked about it, or indeed talked about much, to anybody since. But now, in need of funds to restore this dilapidated, rotting house, Maud is prepared to reveal the horrible truth, to disclose the contents of her father’s journals, to wake up the demons.

Michelle Paver is a master of historical horror. Both Dark Matter and Thin Air, ghostly tales set in the 1930s, are must-reads and I couldn’t wait to read Wakenhyrst. This time, we travel back to the Edwardian period and, whereas before we were taken to the Arctic Winter and then into the Himalayas, we now find ourselves in the Suffolk fens, a remote swampland, disconnected from the rest of England. It is another of those places in which anything can happen, hidden from the outside world, and where superstition and fear of the dark can conquer reason.

The novel is book-ended by the 1960s but otherwise events take place in the first years of the 20th century and is divided between Maud’s own story and extracts from her father Edmund’s journal. It’s a structure that works so well as the personality of Edmund, and of Maud, develops before us. The contrast between Edmund’s words and his view of himself with the way in which Maud sees him and history judges him is striking. Wakenhyrst is, in fact, not so much of a horror tale, although it describes horrible things, but a psychological thriller set in a time and place when the unexpected or the unusual could be blamed on demons, witches and spirits that lurk in the fens. Edmund Stearne, an intellectual (in his eyes) with a fascination for medieval superstition, is an easy victim. There’s also another voice in the novel which adds to its mood, that of a medieval mystic, with whom Edmund becomes obsessed.

But alongside the horror of what Edmund perceives in the fens around him, that fills his house with a smell he hates as well as creatures that wriggle and scurry, there is Maud’s own nightmare and that has resulted from the reality of life in a remote house with a father such as Edmund Stearne. The themes resonate. The fate of unhappy wives doomed to bear child upon child, never given a rest by their lecherous, foul husbands, the disrespect and lack of care given to girl-children who are left uneducated and little more than servants. Then there are the servants themselves, especially the young women who become prey. Maud lives in a house of monsters very different from those that haunt Edmund and it’s to Maud’s story that we’re drawn. And we’re aware that so much of it would be typical through so much of history. Michelle Paver tells a compelling story and Maud is its worthy heroine.

I loved the sense of place that is created in Wakenhyrst. The fens are a character in their own right. Some hate them and others love them and almost become part of them. The descriptions are beautiful and the characters who live within them are brilliantly brought to life, dialect and all. Maud very much belongs to the fens and I loved the way in which her relationship to it, as well as to its animals and people, is portrayed. I visit the fens frequently myself, it’s a place I love to be, and I really enjoyed their place in this wonderful novel.

In Wakenhyrst, Michelle Paver has moved away from ghostly tales and instead placed us firmly in the Gothic. This book is steeped in atmosphere as well as the stench and slime of the fen itself, a place barely touched by the outside world, and it is beautifully written and deliciously, gorgeously creepy.

Other reviews
Dark Matter
Thin Air

With this review, I’m delighted to start off the Blog Tour to celebrate the publication of Wakenhyrst on 4 April. Please take a look at the poster below for other stops on the tour.

Wakenhyrst blog tour banner

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The Taking of Annie Thorne by C.J. Tudor

Michael Joseph | 2019 (21 February) | 346p | Review copy and bought copy | Buy the book

The Taking of Annie Thorne by CJ TudorJoe Thorne has returned to the Nottinghamshire village of Arnhill years after he left it. He has an interview at the local school which he wishes to join as a teacher. His references are impeccable. He would be the perfect choice. Indeed, the Head is pleased to give him the job. But Joe has history with this school, just as he does with the village. This was where he grew up. He knows the parents of many of the children he’ll be teaching. The same behaviour can be seen. Personalities recur through the generations. It’s almost as if the past is repeating itself.

Years ago, Joe’s little sister Annie went missing. The whole village searched. Two days later she turned up again but she wasn’t the same. She wasn’t Joe’s Annie. She terrified him. And now the same thing has happened to another child. Joe has come back to make this end.

Last year’s debut novel by The Chalk Man was such a memorable, creepy and menacing read, combining mystery with horror, a winning combination in my eyes. This is now followed by another stand alone novel, The Taking of Annie Thorne, which builds on the atmosphere of what came more and, in my opinion, the result is even more successful. Once more we have the fright associated with children who in some way have strayed from what is right, even what is real. It’s almost classic Stephen King nightmare territory and you can see why he’s such a fan of C.J. Tudor’s books. As King says, if you like his books, then you’ll like this. He is right.

Joe Thorne is our narrator and he’s most certainly as unreliable as you’d expect. But it’s easy to warm to him, especially as the true horror of what happened all those years ago emerges. It all happens bit by bit. We know that Joe has arrived in Arnhill with an agenda so we’re on our guard from the outset but I love the way that so much of the story is revealed through wonderful character portraits. As Joe gets to know the children in his class, he’s reminded of their parents and this is such an effective way of introducing flashbacks to a past that Joe thought he’d escaped.

Little here can be trusted. People lie or they deny the past. But even the rules of reality can’t be relied upon. This is horror after all. But it’s almost more psychological than anything else. The powers of a child’s imagination fuels this novel but sometimes the monster might be real and it haunts them still.

The setting of Arnhill is so well created. It’s a mining community that has lost its reason for being. The mine has closed. More than that, the mine has been eradicated. There seems so little reason to stay and yet some of the children that Joe knew all those years ago seem unable to leave. What ties these people to this unhappy place?

The Taking of Annie Thorne is a wonderfully chilling tale of a village haunted by its horrible past. The atmosphere is one of menace and evil, an evil that is accompanied by such a rank and festering stench. I love this kind of horror. In settings such as this, with characters like these, it’s almost as if this horror could exist. It feels real and believable. This is a compelling novel to read, particularly, I think, by lamplight, late into the night.

Other review
The Chalk Man

Severed by Peter Laws

Allison and Busby | 2019 (24 January) | 380p | Review copy | Buy the book

Severed by Peter LawsWhen teenager Micah takes an axe to his father, a vicar, in front of his horrified congregation in church, Matt Hunter is called in to help DS Jill Bowland find out why the boy should have committed such a terrible crime. Micah’s final words to his father had been in Aramaic, there is an element of ritual about the attack, and there are rumours that Micah had been involved with a mysterious group of devil worshippers. Matt, before he lost his faith, was a reverend. Matt now makes his living as a professor exploring the sociology of religion. He knows better than most how complicated man’s relationship to God is. He’s seen it all, or so he thinks, and some of it isn’t entirely explicable.

Micah isn’t the only child to be caught up in this cult. Ever is a ten-year-old boy and he carries the weight of their world on his shoulders. Matt must confront this world one terrifying, stormy, bloody night.

Severed is the third novel in Peter Laws’ series featuring Professor Matt Hunter. These are books that always go to the top of my reading mountain, partly, I think, because of their enticing mix of crime and horror. Matt is an expert in religion and so the cases he advises on always have a touch of the unknowable about them – they depict a battle between good and evil. One suspects that demons may well exist in these shadows while angels have fled.

The action takes place over just a couple of days and this certainly adds to the intensity as Matt finds himself caught up in something that at first he didn’t recognise. The novel begins with humour – Peter Laws always knows how to make me laugh in his books and I laughed out loud with this one. There’s such absurdity and nonsense and it’s wonderful. There’s such love between Matt and his wife and daughters. They are the light, their world is humorous and caring, but over the course of these two days, they will be immersed in blackness.

Severed is especially sinister and menacing. I found it truly frightening at times. There is a hint of horror about it and that’s frightening in itself but, even without that, the cult’s beliefs are terrifying and the damage being done to the children is horrendous. The murders are brutal and shocking. There was one section I wasn’t able to read, it was too graphic for me. But I can see why the evil is presented like this. It can’t be allowed to hide. But there were times when I had to look away.

The characters here are brilliantly created, whether they’re good or evil. We only have two days but they are developed so fully within this short period of time. Matt as ever is a fantastic character. He has seen some dreadful things in his time, they haunt him, but he deals with it by loving his family. I liked that. The darkness is mostly without, not within, for Matt. As for the baddies here, they are truly nasty! Although one’s heart weeps for Ever.

Severed is dark but it is enthralling and once again demonstrates why Peter Laws is an author to follow. His books are thrilling and action-packed but they’re also clever and interesting, with an unusual perspective. They affirm the joy of life, despite the horrors that can lie in ambush, and this is most memorably displayed here in a chase involving a certain giant duck. You do not want to miss that!

Other reviews
Purged
Unleashed

The Corset by Laura Purcell

Raven Books | 2018 (20 September) | 395p | Review copy | Buy the book

The Corset by Laura PurcellDorothea Truelove, a young and beautiful heiress, feels that she has little control over her own life, that she is in danger of just sitting around while her father arranges a marriage to a suitably grand personage she will be tied to for the rest of her life. She finds an escape in charitable work, particularly visiting women in prisons that she herself helps to fund. This also gives her the chance to practice her passion – phrenology. Dorothea believes that the disposition of a character to commit crimes can be seen in the shape of the perpetrator’s skull and that their moral improvement will be reflected in the skull’s changing shape. She now has another young woman on which to test her theories – the teenage seamstress Ruth Butterham, imprisoned and awaiting trial for murder.

Ruth couldn’t be any more different from Dorothea. Having begun her life in gentile poverty, tragic, terrible circumstances forced Ruth and her mother to the very depths of what they can survive. Ruth has much to feel bitter about but she also feels guilt – not because she murdered anyone but because she believes that she inadvertently killed with her needle and thread, that some supernatural power had turned every stitch into a weapon, driven by Ruth’s grief and fury.

The Corset tells the story of these two young women, one barely more than a child, in alternate sections as Ruth tells her life to Dorothea who then reflects on what she has learned and how this must affect her own beliefs and life. Ruth’s story challenges everything Dorothea believes, that crime can be explained rationally by the dimensions of a skull. There is little that is rational in what Ruth describes. Can she be believed? Can this murderous supernatural power really be true? But, whether it’s true or not, the brutality and cruelty that Ruth has suffered has much to teach Dorothea about the nature of evil and much of it is very much the work of real men and women.

Ruth’s tale is extraordinary and I was engrossed by it. Laura Purcell demonstrated her fine storytelling powers in The Silent Companions, a truly frightening and chilly ghost story. These are on show again although now the dark powers are much more ambiguous while the evil of man is thrown much more into the light. As a result, this isn’t so much a frightening story as a disturbing one. Ruth’s experiences are horrific and they are explored in detail from the very beginning. There is a shocking scene early on that I must admit was too much for me and it proved to be a stumbling block that I had to overcome. I’m glad that I did overcome it because the rest of the novel kept me in its grip. But this is undoubtedly a very dark tale for much of the time and Ruth’s words, as she describes what has happened, are powerfully descriptive.

Ruth forms the heart of the novel and it’s her sections which I enjoyed the most. Dorothea did little to win me over at the beginning, not least because of her dubious preoccupation with phrenology. She is also privileged and aware that she is. Money is important to her, as is her status. And, although she fancies herself in love with a lowly policeman, one can’t help wondering if that is all a childlike romantic dream. But as her story progresses and she becomes more self-aware, as well as more aware of the horror that society is inflicting on its poorest members, I warmed to her a little more. And Dorothea’s story does develop in a quite surprising if possibly not entirely unexpected way. But the Ruth sections are superb.

The mood of the novel, its menace and evil force, loom so large over the novel, making it such an appropriate read during these long dark evenings. This is the perfect time of year for a Gothic novel and The Corset hits the spot so well. I love Laura Purcell’s writing as well as her eye for historical detail. The Corset isn’t fixed to a particular time, it’s set in a past in which evil flourishes. There’s a kind of dark fairy tale feel to it, an unreal world in which the relationship between mothers and daughters, between fathers and daughters can take on a frightening, shadowy quality. Dorothea’s surname of Truelove contributes to the symbolism as she worries before the looming possibility of an evil stepmother. There are demons and angels in this novel, whether or not the supernatural haunts Ruth’s stitches.

Other review
The Silent Companions

Someone Like Me by M.R. Carey

Orbit | 2018. Pb 2019 | 512p | Review copy | Buy the book

Someone Like Me by MR CareyLiz Kendall has to work all the hours that she can to make ends meet but it’s worth it – she’s making a life for her teenage son Zac and little daughter Molly and everything is better now that she’s finally left her husband Marc because he is a bully of a man. Then one day, after he drops the children off late, he and Liz have a fight and it gets vicious. Marc’s fingers are around her neck. And then suddenly Liz fights back. She doesn’t know how she does it. It’s as if she’s not moving her own hands, that her thoughts aren’t even her own. But it works. Only after that Liz can’t shake off the horrible dread that she now has another side within her, one that will not let go.

Not too far away in the same small American town lives teenager Fran. This young girl is deeply troubled. It’s hardly surprising. She was the victim of a terrible, famous kidnapping when she was a small child. She barely escaped with her life. Fran’s doing her best to live a normal life, supported by a wonderful father, and regularly receiving psychiatric support. But there’s something a little different about Fran – sometimes she can see things changing around her. It’s frightening. She finds friends, though, in the most unlikely of ways and they will protect her to the death.

I am going to find it very difficult indeed to express here just how much I fell in love with Someone Like Me and some of the truly fabulous people within it. M.R. Carey is nothing less than a genius, not least for his imagination which creates such believably unusual dark yet hopeful worlds and populates them with characters we adore. Who can ever forget Melanie in The Girl With All the Gifts? I’ve loved all of Carey’s books (including those written under other names) but I must declare that Someone Like Me is my favourite.

I’m going to give very little away because part of the great pleasure of reading Someone Like Me is unravelling its layers for yourself. It is full of surprises. In fact, during the second third of the novel I rather thought I knew where it was heading and became a little complacent. I was wrong. And that’s when I fell so deeply for this book and for some of its lives – most particularly Fran, Lady Jinx and Molly. I have no words to describe how much I love Molly and Jinx. The love we feel for them makes sections of this novel heart wrenching. It’s impossible not to feel completely involved. And with the pain we feel comes the huge reward of reading a novel that is so utterly captivating.

I’m not usually one for comparisons but I can understand those that have been made with Stephen King. The American small town setting is similar but so too is its sense of horror which can be found in the everyday and in the extraordinary. The line between the two is blurred. There is both terror and hope as innocence is attacked. It also demonstrates the horror that can be found in normal lives, particularly for those who suffer domestic violence or abuse of any kind. How some people can survive these things is a strong theme of this wonderful novel.

Someone Like Me is a substantial novel but every one of its 500 pages is a pleasure. I read this book so quickly. It kept me company late into the night. I couldn’t let these characters go and they haunt me still. What an exciting writer M.R. Carey is. He astounds with each novel. Where on earth (or beyond) will he take us next? This is a real contender for my book of 2018.

Other reviews
The Girl with All the Gifts
The Boy on the Bridge
Fellside

A House of Ghosts by W.C. Ryan

Zaffre | 2018 (4 October) | 419p | Review copy | Buy the book

A House of Ghosts by WC RyanThe winter solstice of 1917 is approaching and Lord Highmount has arranged a meeting of spiritualists and friends at his old and creaking house, Blackwater Abbey, located on a small island off the Devon coast. Lord Highmount and his wife Lady Elizabeth recently lost both of their sons in the war. The boys disappeared from their lives and they’re missed desperately. Lady Elizabeth believes that mediums Madame Feda and Count Orlov will unite her with their spirits. There are other visitors to the house, including a doctor who believes that his patient, a traumatised soldier, is in touch with the dead due to his own traumatic near-death experience. They have come to the right place.

And then there are Kate Cartwright and Robert Donovan. Kate and Donavon are at the house on a mission from Britain’s secret service. Lord Highmount is a successful industrialist contributing to the war effort. There are reasons to believe some of his plans have ended up on German desks and this ‘house party’ will provide the perfect opportunity to trap a spy. But there is far more to Kate than meets the eye.

A House of Ghosts is a stunning novel, a thoroughly absorbing read that combines a chilling ghost story – because it is indeed set within a house of ghosts – with a tale of war. The First World War overshadows everything in this novel. Almost everyone in the house has either lost someone to the war or has fought in it themselves and is recovering from its nightmare. It’s hardly surprising that the dead are restless.

Blackwater Abbey provides the perfect location, especially as it is cut off from the land by a mid winter storm. The house itself might be frightening but the outside is no less deadly. There is no escape for our small group of suspects when one of their number is found murdered. This classic murder mystery scenario, so well executed here, is reason enough to enjoy A House of Ghosts but it is enhanced by its melancholic mood, the result of war and loss, and by the very real chill of its ghosts for this is a house where the dead far outnumber the living.

Kate Cartwright and Donovan are the characters we grow closest to and they’re an enigmatic pair. I particularly enjoyed Kate’s attitude to the spiritual world around her, which contrasts so vividly to the attitude of Madame Feda. Kate is enduring her own loss. There is someone she too would like to contact. But all are distracted by the murderer stalking the house – is this person real?

As the evenings draw in, A House of Ghosts is the perfect read. It’s so easy to lose yourself in it. It’s beautifully written – as you’d expect from the author of The Constant Soldier – and richly evocative of its time and setting. It’s frightening in places but also, rather unexpectedly, I found it comforting and warm, despite the chill of its winter storm. It provides food for thought, particularly on the devastating harm of war, and is impossible to put down.

Other reviews
The Constant Soldier

The Break Line by James Brabazon

Michael Joseph | 2018 (26 July) | 374p | Review copy | Buy the book

The Break Line by James BrabazonMax McLean is a man who lives in shadows. Officially he doesn’t exist. He works for British Intelligence but, if he were caught, they would deny him. After a career in the army, Max is now an assassin with a reputation for always being able to take the perfect shot. But years have passed and now Max is discovering something that he thought he’d lost a long time ago – a conscience. And so, one day, in a hotel in Caracas, Max fails to take the shot. Called in by his masters, Max is given one last chance to redeem himself in their eyes.

Max is sent to a secret military research facility to interview one of his former comrades, a man who is about as close to a good friend as Max would allow. This fearless, brave soldier is locked up. He has been driven mad by something that he saw in Sierra Leone – he has been terrified out of his mind. Max must find out why. The hunt will take Max deep into western Africa, a place divided by years of civil war, its people still scarred by what they suffered. But however terrible those years might have been, they are nothing compared to what Max will find in the jungle, what he must face.

I love a good action thriller, especially when splashes of techno thriller and horror are thrown in for good measure, and The Break Line hit the spot perfectly. It is thoroughly exciting from its opening tense chapters all the way through to its exhilarating climax, via the page-turning blood and gore fest in the middle. It is a violent book. Some bits are so gory that I had to read them with my eyes closed. But these moments serve their purpose, which is to throw light on this dark world of Max Mclean – it’s only by knowing how bad things can get that we realise how much Max needs to escape it all.

Max is such an intriguing character. He’s not likeable. He’s a killer and most of the time the killing hasn’t bothered him but it’s fascinating watching this man of stone question who he is. Most of the other characters in the novel aren’t particularly developed, although Sonny Boy certainly makes his presence felt in a horribly memorable way, but I think this is largely because the novel is told by Max in his own words. He’s not the best reader of character, although he is surprised to learn that he is becoming attached to people.

I also really enjoyed the Sierra Leone setting. It’s both a frightening and beautiful place and it’s among its people that Max experiences the most kindness. But it’s also here that Max sees the worst and it’s in this place that the elements of horror and science fiction influence the action thriller. The pages flew through my fingers.

The style of writing is a little stilted at time but this all fits with Max’s character. My only complaint would be the number of military acronyms thrown in with no explanation. I had no idea what Max was on about at times. Also, there are some large coincidences to be overcome. Nevertheless, The Break Line ticked most of the boxes for me. I really can’t get enough of thrillers like this one and so, if you don’t mind a bit of gore, I heartily recommend it.