Reviews
REVIEW PAGE 1
All reviews written by Terry Grimwood Please feel free to quote or cut and paste.
FILM REVIEWS
Await Further Instructions
REVIEWS PAGE 3
High Cross By Paul Melhuish
House of Wrax By Raven Dane
Moonshine Express By Poppet
Echoes From An Expired earth By Allen Ashley
Greenbeard By John Travis
God Bomb! By Kit Power
the Quarantined City by James Everington
REVIEWS PAGE 2
Finding Jericho By Dave Jeffery
The Big-Headed People By D. F. Lewis
The angry Red Planet by Ralph Robert Moore
Compromising The Truth by Bryn fortey
The hungry ones by elana gomel
Infinite Dysmorphia Edited by pete Sutton and Kate Coe
Frequencies Of Existence by Andrew hook
The Architect By Brendan Connell
My Dead and Blackened Heart by Andrew freudenberg
Abiding Evil by Alison Buck
The Heel by Brendan Connell
Hell Ship By Benedict J. Jones
Weirdmonger by D. F. Lewis
La Femme Edited by Ian Whates
Dark Satanic Mills Edited by Steve j Shaw
Resonance & Revolt by Rosanne Rabinowitz
Terror Tales of Northwest England edited by Paul Finch
Cold Turkey by Carole Johnstone
The House of Frozen Screams by Thana Niveau
Breaking Point by Kit Power
The Drone Outside by Kristine Ong Muslim
Broken on the Inside by Phil Sloman
Angels of the Silences by Simon Bestwick
The Signal Block and Other Stories by Frank Duffy
Abolisher of Roses by Gary Fry
The House of Canted Steps by Gary Fry
A Tour of Beaujardin by Marc Lowe
Sein und Werden: Pharamcopoiea edited by Rachel Kendall
REVIEWS PAGE 1: THIS PAGE
What They Hear in the Dark by Gary McMahon
M is for Monster compiled by John Prescott
Null Immortalis edited by D F Lewis
Way Home by Andrew Fisher
Run Free by Andrew Fisher
Wine and Rank Poison by Allyson Bird
The Empathy Effect by Bob Lock
Murky Depths Issue 14 edited by Terry Martin
Sylvow by Douglas Thompson
The Red House by David J Thacker
Dreams of Flight by Jessica Lawrence
Shoes, Ships and Cadavers edited by Ian Whates and Ian Watson
Yuppieville by Tony Richards
Catastrophia edited by Allen Ashley
___________________________________________________________________________________________
WHAT THEY HEAR IN THE DARK by Gary McMahon

This is the first publication by Spectral Press and the beginning of a very interesting looking venture, namely the publication of individual short stories in chapbook form.
This is a story about loss, about the ability, and inability of us humans to recover and move on after the death of a loved one, in this case, a child, to me, the most unimaginable loss. Rob and Becky are, at last, trying to make a new start, moving into a new house, well, an old house they intend to renovate. But the ghosts won’t be shrugged of that easily.
Convincing in its examination of lingering grief and the effect it has on the individual and a relationship, What They Hear in the Dark presents us with shadows and whispers and a silence that is almost deafening in its totality. It also threatens us with ghosts that are horribly familiar and malevolently ambiguous. Supernatural stories seem to provide a very sharp scalpel with which to examine the injuries caused by the death of a loved one.
The description is vivid, the smells, the feel of the house, the mustiness and dankness of that room ooze from the text and live in Neil Williams’ atmospheric cover work. Most of all, the emotional landscape is starkly and startlingly painted. The tension between the protagonists, the struggle to regain their emotional level is discomforting. What They Hear in the Dark is a short sharp emotional shock.
WHAT THEY HEAR IN THE DARK by Gary McMahon
Published by Spectral Press
Paperback £3.00
_________________________________________________________________________________
This is a story about loss, about the ability, and inability of us humans to recover and move on after the death of a loved one, in this case, a child, to me, the most unimaginable loss. Rob and Becky are, at last, trying to make a new start, moving into a new house, well, an old house they intend to renovate. But the ghosts won’t be shrugged of that easily.
Convincing in its examination of lingering grief and the effect it has on the individual and a relationship, What They Hear in the Dark presents us with shadows and whispers and a silence that is almost deafening in its totality. It also threatens us with ghosts that are horribly familiar and malevolently ambiguous. Supernatural stories seem to provide a very sharp scalpel with which to examine the injuries caused by the death of a loved one.
The description is vivid, the smells, the feel of the house, the mustiness and dankness of that room ooze from the text and live in Neil Williams’ atmospheric cover work. Most of all, the emotional landscape is starkly and startlingly painted. The tension between the protagonists, the struggle to regain their emotional level is discomforting. What They Hear in the Dark is a short sharp emotional shock.
WHAT THEY HEAR IN THE DARK by Gary McMahon
Published by Spectral Press
Paperback £3.00
_________________________________________________________________________________
M IS FOR MONSTER Compiled by John Prescott

I love themed anthologies and M is for Monster certainly is themed. It’s about well, monsters for a start and surely any horror fan loves a good monster. The other theme is that there are twenty-six stories each one represented by a letter of the alphabet. Some are obvious, D for demon for example, but some are harder to pin down. Part of the fun, for me anyway.
It called to mind a long ago, much thumbed and loved Four Square paperback called, I think, The ABC of Science Fiction, which was a collection in which the authors' surnames were in alphabetical order M is for Monster has that same witty, slightly tongue-in-cheek feel and shares its ability to suck you in and lose you for a while.
Overall, M is for Monster is a highly entertaining read, it is exciting and compelling and yes, I did want to know what the next story was going to be each time I finished the one before, always a good sign.,
Ron Spencer’s cover is a striking, action-packed and dramatic pencil drawing which sets the tone perfectly as well as making the book an attractive package. There is a sense of love about the work, that this is a collection compiled by someone who relishes the genre, that he was aided and abetted by a group of authors who wallowed deliciously in the primal swamp from which monsters are created and that the resulting book was meant to be read by those with a real passion for being pursued by hulking, slavering nightmares made flesh.
Some monsters are obvious and immediate, such as the Calumus, D M Younquist’s war mongering demons, Paul Freeman’s devilish elephant, and the seemingly innocent woman by a river who turns out to be anything but when unleashed by Andrew Taylor.
Some of the monsters are more insidious, creeping up on us unawares, like Adrian Chamberlain’s tale of the patriotic resistance against the might of the occupying Third Reich. These partisans, however, are far from human. Then there is that gorgeous item of jewellery sold to an exclusive store for a pittance, but soon it is obvious that the real price is much higher, as revealed to us by Carson Buckingham. These are two of my favourite stories from the collection by the way.
Other monsters never really show their faces but lurk in the mind. But they are just as terrifying and loathsome. Kate Jonez shows us guilt and retribution for example, while Dean Drinkel teaches us that the consequences of unwholesome acts in our past will be unleashed eventually.
Simon Kurt Unsworth leads the wittier side of the monstrous with a trip to the local noodle bar, while Brooke Vaughn gives us the epic story of siege and shape changers set in the dank, dripping isolation of the jungle. My own personal favourite is T by Magen Toole in which the clockwork working life and domestic routine of an ordinary, somewhat dull, man is shattered by his first glimpse of a young woman standing outside her house as he drives home from work one evening.
This is a big anthology, picked with fangs, claws and torn flesh, but also with subtly and shadowed menace. Yes, the familiar is there, the werewolf, the demon, but for the most part, they’ve been given a fresh set of clothes, an injection of steroids and sent out to play once more. There are some very well written tales here, and some that are great stories though told in a more workmanlike style. These are few and more than compensated for by the sheer glee with which humanity is chased, clawed, tormented and eaten by the thing that haunts us from the day we first become aware of the dark.
Monsters.
M IS FOR MONSTER Compiled by John Prescott
Published by John Prescott
Paperback £10.00
__________________________________________________________________________________
It called to mind a long ago, much thumbed and loved Four Square paperback called, I think, The ABC of Science Fiction, which was a collection in which the authors' surnames were in alphabetical order M is for Monster has that same witty, slightly tongue-in-cheek feel and shares its ability to suck you in and lose you for a while.
Overall, M is for Monster is a highly entertaining read, it is exciting and compelling and yes, I did want to know what the next story was going to be each time I finished the one before, always a good sign.,
Ron Spencer’s cover is a striking, action-packed and dramatic pencil drawing which sets the tone perfectly as well as making the book an attractive package. There is a sense of love about the work, that this is a collection compiled by someone who relishes the genre, that he was aided and abetted by a group of authors who wallowed deliciously in the primal swamp from which monsters are created and that the resulting book was meant to be read by those with a real passion for being pursued by hulking, slavering nightmares made flesh.
Some monsters are obvious and immediate, such as the Calumus, D M Younquist’s war mongering demons, Paul Freeman’s devilish elephant, and the seemingly innocent woman by a river who turns out to be anything but when unleashed by Andrew Taylor.
Some of the monsters are more insidious, creeping up on us unawares, like Adrian Chamberlain’s tale of the patriotic resistance against the might of the occupying Third Reich. These partisans, however, are far from human. Then there is that gorgeous item of jewellery sold to an exclusive store for a pittance, but soon it is obvious that the real price is much higher, as revealed to us by Carson Buckingham. These are two of my favourite stories from the collection by the way.
Other monsters never really show their faces but lurk in the mind. But they are just as terrifying and loathsome. Kate Jonez shows us guilt and retribution for example, while Dean Drinkel teaches us that the consequences of unwholesome acts in our past will be unleashed eventually.
Simon Kurt Unsworth leads the wittier side of the monstrous with a trip to the local noodle bar, while Brooke Vaughn gives us the epic story of siege and shape changers set in the dank, dripping isolation of the jungle. My own personal favourite is T by Magen Toole in which the clockwork working life and domestic routine of an ordinary, somewhat dull, man is shattered by his first glimpse of a young woman standing outside her house as he drives home from work one evening.
This is a big anthology, picked with fangs, claws and torn flesh, but also with subtly and shadowed menace. Yes, the familiar is there, the werewolf, the demon, but for the most part, they’ve been given a fresh set of clothes, an injection of steroids and sent out to play once more. There are some very well written tales here, and some that are great stories though told in a more workmanlike style. These are few and more than compensated for by the sheer glee with which humanity is chased, clawed, tormented and eaten by the thing that haunts us from the day we first become aware of the dark.
Monsters.
M IS FOR MONSTER Compiled by John Prescott
Published by John Prescott
Paperback £10.00
__________________________________________________________________________________
NEMONYMOUS 10: NULL IMMORTALIS Edited by D F Lewis

Quite simply, the last Nemonymous Megazanthus, Null Immortalis, is a tour de force. It is a long, many hued, many–voiced journey through the imagination of a set of fine writers. It is strange, straight, funny, tragic, dark and then filled with light. The fiction inside that surreal cover, decorated by a row wind turbines so arranged to look like a tree, or even a many-winged insect, is beyond genre, defies pigeon-holes. It is simply fiction, it is simply writers, writing.
It isn’t all glory and wonder, there are some dips. There are moments when the narrative becomes self-important, self-indulgent even, where meaning is so deeply hidden the story becomes, well, meaningless, but these are few and far between. The overall effect, which is, I think the best way to approach an anthology like this, is one of a dreamlike, epic journey that ends in a suitably, subtle, surreal, off-kilter climax.
Along the way you have Rachel Kendal’s cruel and witty Holesale in which a market trader makes his living selling holes, dark portable holes in which things, including the owner, can be stored or hidden. And then there is Violette Doranges by David A Griffin. The director of a charitable foundation becomes obsessed with the beautiful (allegedly) young woman philanthropist of the title. Everyone seems to know her but where is she?Joel Lane’s The Drowned Market boasts a clever title with more than one meaning. A small publisher rejects the work of a well-known author and suddenly his new mss arrives but with it comes shifting reality, and threat.
The sinister poison-in-the-water-supply type story features here, Love is the Drug by Andrew Hook is a classic Hook-ian sf tale of an all-but emotionless future in which narcotics are legal and happiness is all, but then the protagonist samples a new substance called Conflict. In Tim Casson’s The Scream we are menaced by an estate agent, a sinister fast food corporation and an outbreak of tumours. A fine set of ingredients for this catastrophian tale of corporate takeover and control just as the economy falters and the security of money is wrenched from under your feet.
Straight-ish horror makes a showing, Lucien’s Menagerie by David M Fitzpatrick for example.
Julia is set to claim back her family home after the death of her emotionally brutal and rich husband. However, the price is that she spends a night in the house, which has been filled with stuffed animals and worse. There is a gorgeously Twilight Zone /Outer Limits feel to this one. Gary Fry gives us the vivid-yet-shadowed Strings Attached where a less than savoury past crashes with a dishonesty-tainted present. Dark fairy tales are represented by the epic and unsettling The Toymaker of Bremen by Stephen Bacon
There is fable, wonderfully and movingly exemplified by Daniel Pearlman’s A Giant in the House. This is an exceptional story about how a man views his father as a giant when he is a child but with each paternal failure his father’s stature physically diminishes. Simple yet utterly profound. Apotheosis by D P Watt tells of Tullis, a writer who collects fragments of others’ work, sent into him then weaves them into a whole so that the author Tullis becomes a collective.
Relationships are examined in a satisfyingly ambiguous and out-of the corner-of-the-eye manner, often leaving more questions unanswered then answered. Take The Return by S D Tullis (that’s the real Mr. Tullis and not the eponymous character who appears, stars or cameo’s in all the stories). The Tullis girl disappeared and returned, but she has become unresponsive and emotionless. No back story on her disappearance. The story tells the effect her new non-personality has on her family. In Even the Mirrorby Ursula Pflug, Tullis is a woman oft met but always elusive. Who is she and did the protagonist once have a relationship with her?
In true Hitchcock-ian style, the editor D F Lewis himself appears in Bob Lock’s witty sf yarn Haven’t You Ever Wondered? Directly after this, the Nemonymous spirit surfaces in the odd and fascinating war time story Supermarine by Tim Nickels. Set in Gibraltar it seems to be a straight account of a group of characters on that beleaguered island but something is out-of-kilter here, some subtle oddness laps at the story's edges. This is one of my favourites although that isn’t a fair statement because this really is a box of delights and every single story (strong and weak) deserves a mention. The range, the quality of the story-telling are all top notch.
The works are all accompanied by their authors’ names and there are potted biographies at the end of the book, a neat slice of irony because the first edition of the series was completely devoid of any meta-communication other than the titles of the stories themselves. A brief epilogue, adds to this poetic turnaround. Finally, the appearance of the editor in the penultimate story is a wry smile because, like the author-names, the editor himself was invisible in those early days.
So ends a grand and highly successful experiment. The publication in which story was so important that it overshadowed the author’s identity and yet, somehow heightened the need to attach a name tag the text by making us all try to guess who wrote what. It was all about fiction as fiction and not genre. That’s Nemonymous then, much talked about, thought about and most importantly of all…
Read.
NULL IMMORTALIS Editedby D F Lewis
Published by Megazanthus Press
Paperback £11.00
ISSN 1474-2020
________________________________________________________________________________
It isn’t all glory and wonder, there are some dips. There are moments when the narrative becomes self-important, self-indulgent even, where meaning is so deeply hidden the story becomes, well, meaningless, but these are few and far between. The overall effect, which is, I think the best way to approach an anthology like this, is one of a dreamlike, epic journey that ends in a suitably, subtle, surreal, off-kilter climax.
Along the way you have Rachel Kendal’s cruel and witty Holesale in which a market trader makes his living selling holes, dark portable holes in which things, including the owner, can be stored or hidden. And then there is Violette Doranges by David A Griffin. The director of a charitable foundation becomes obsessed with the beautiful (allegedly) young woman philanthropist of the title. Everyone seems to know her but where is she?Joel Lane’s The Drowned Market boasts a clever title with more than one meaning. A small publisher rejects the work of a well-known author and suddenly his new mss arrives but with it comes shifting reality, and threat.
The sinister poison-in-the-water-supply type story features here, Love is the Drug by Andrew Hook is a classic Hook-ian sf tale of an all-but emotionless future in which narcotics are legal and happiness is all, but then the protagonist samples a new substance called Conflict. In Tim Casson’s The Scream we are menaced by an estate agent, a sinister fast food corporation and an outbreak of tumours. A fine set of ingredients for this catastrophian tale of corporate takeover and control just as the economy falters and the security of money is wrenched from under your feet.
Straight-ish horror makes a showing, Lucien’s Menagerie by David M Fitzpatrick for example.
Julia is set to claim back her family home after the death of her emotionally brutal and rich husband. However, the price is that she spends a night in the house, which has been filled with stuffed animals and worse. There is a gorgeously Twilight Zone /Outer Limits feel to this one. Gary Fry gives us the vivid-yet-shadowed Strings Attached where a less than savoury past crashes with a dishonesty-tainted present. Dark fairy tales are represented by the epic and unsettling The Toymaker of Bremen by Stephen Bacon
There is fable, wonderfully and movingly exemplified by Daniel Pearlman’s A Giant in the House. This is an exceptional story about how a man views his father as a giant when he is a child but with each paternal failure his father’s stature physically diminishes. Simple yet utterly profound. Apotheosis by D P Watt tells of Tullis, a writer who collects fragments of others’ work, sent into him then weaves them into a whole so that the author Tullis becomes a collective.
Relationships are examined in a satisfyingly ambiguous and out-of the corner-of-the-eye manner, often leaving more questions unanswered then answered. Take The Return by S D Tullis (that’s the real Mr. Tullis and not the eponymous character who appears, stars or cameo’s in all the stories). The Tullis girl disappeared and returned, but she has become unresponsive and emotionless. No back story on her disappearance. The story tells the effect her new non-personality has on her family. In Even the Mirrorby Ursula Pflug, Tullis is a woman oft met but always elusive. Who is she and did the protagonist once have a relationship with her?
In true Hitchcock-ian style, the editor D F Lewis himself appears in Bob Lock’s witty sf yarn Haven’t You Ever Wondered? Directly after this, the Nemonymous spirit surfaces in the odd and fascinating war time story Supermarine by Tim Nickels. Set in Gibraltar it seems to be a straight account of a group of characters on that beleaguered island but something is out-of-kilter here, some subtle oddness laps at the story's edges. This is one of my favourites although that isn’t a fair statement because this really is a box of delights and every single story (strong and weak) deserves a mention. The range, the quality of the story-telling are all top notch.
The works are all accompanied by their authors’ names and there are potted biographies at the end of the book, a neat slice of irony because the first edition of the series was completely devoid of any meta-communication other than the titles of the stories themselves. A brief epilogue, adds to this poetic turnaround. Finally, the appearance of the editor in the penultimate story is a wry smile because, like the author-names, the editor himself was invisible in those early days.
So ends a grand and highly successful experiment. The publication in which story was so important that it overshadowed the author’s identity and yet, somehow heightened the need to attach a name tag the text by making us all try to guess who wrote what. It was all about fiction as fiction and not genre. That’s Nemonymous then, much talked about, thought about and most importantly of all…
Read.
NULL IMMORTALIS Editedby D F Lewis
Published by Megazanthus Press
Paperback £11.00
ISSN 1474-2020
________________________________________________________________________________
NOTE: I have been asked that you e-mail [email protected] if you would like to purchase either Way Home or Run Free (or both). Opel Press does not currently have a web site. I have reviewed these novels consecutively as the two books can be read separately or as a larger narrative.
WAY HOME by Andrew Fisher

Eight year old Jamie is waiting for his father to pick him up from the Sports hall. He only has his dog, Becs, for company. He waits and waits and still there is no sign of Dad. In the end, he decides to walk home himself. So begins Andrew Fisher’s intriguing, witty and immensely entertaining Way Home.
Is this a children’s book? Open it up and read the first few pages and that is the impression it gives. However, as the story progresses the distinction between juvenile fiction and adult becomes blurred. It is certainly a child’ eye view of the world and a child’s take on the adults who feel obliged to run things. Or ruin things. Jamie’s family is at the beginning of a crisis. There is burgeoning tension, ominous events on the horizon.
On top of this there is a talking dog. Well, is it a talking dog? Its loyal, canine communication is certainly clear enough to be construed as the spoken word. This is a very clever device that paints a vivid portrait of the relationship between Jamie and his pet and works on every level, it is funny, subtle and affecting.
There are misdemeanours, school trips, runaway dogs and a visit from some boring and unpleasant, from Jamie’s pit of view anyway, relatives and behind it all, the shadow of family difficulties and an encroaching work crisis.
So, back to the question; is this a children’s book or a work for adults? For me personally, it is both, but not in the obvious lets-put-something –in-for-the-mums-and-dads style many children’s authors employ to make the bedtime story more interesting. Here there is no separation between the two. Children will empathise with Jamie’s view of the adult world, while adults will recognise themselves when viewed from the child’s perspective. And, really, does it matter? Surely a book is a book, a novel, a novel, sometimes categories and genres just get in the way.
Another intriguing aspect of Way Home are the illustrations that punctuate the book. These are colour photographs of normal objects or places ,not overtly surreal, yet somehow given an odd, sideways feel by their placement within the text. Is there a game being played here? Is there a hidden sub-text? Is there another story being told? I certainly felt that this might be the case, yet couldn’t uncover exactly what this might be. It was a bit like that adult cartoon from the 1990s, King of the Hill. I could never take it at face value, always believed that there was something subversive going on but was never able to work out what it was.
Way Home can be approached then, from two different angles. You can try to read around the central story, look for the hidden message or meanings. Or you can simply go along for the ride. Either way, you’re in for a fascinating and utterly absorbing ride. Fisher’s writing style is open, vivid and straightforward. Yet it also knowing, arch and crackles with dry wit and sharp observation. Adult or child, it really makes no difference this is a short sharp joyride home.
WAY HOME by Andrew Fisher
Published by Opel Press
Paperback £5.00
ISBN 978-0-9560997-0-9
_________________________________________________________________________________
Is this a children’s book? Open it up and read the first few pages and that is the impression it gives. However, as the story progresses the distinction between juvenile fiction and adult becomes blurred. It is certainly a child’ eye view of the world and a child’s take on the adults who feel obliged to run things. Or ruin things. Jamie’s family is at the beginning of a crisis. There is burgeoning tension, ominous events on the horizon.
On top of this there is a talking dog. Well, is it a talking dog? Its loyal, canine communication is certainly clear enough to be construed as the spoken word. This is a very clever device that paints a vivid portrait of the relationship between Jamie and his pet and works on every level, it is funny, subtle and affecting.
There are misdemeanours, school trips, runaway dogs and a visit from some boring and unpleasant, from Jamie’s pit of view anyway, relatives and behind it all, the shadow of family difficulties and an encroaching work crisis.
So, back to the question; is this a children’s book or a work for adults? For me personally, it is both, but not in the obvious lets-put-something –in-for-the-mums-and-dads style many children’s authors employ to make the bedtime story more interesting. Here there is no separation between the two. Children will empathise with Jamie’s view of the adult world, while adults will recognise themselves when viewed from the child’s perspective. And, really, does it matter? Surely a book is a book, a novel, a novel, sometimes categories and genres just get in the way.
Another intriguing aspect of Way Home are the illustrations that punctuate the book. These are colour photographs of normal objects or places ,not overtly surreal, yet somehow given an odd, sideways feel by their placement within the text. Is there a game being played here? Is there a hidden sub-text? Is there another story being told? I certainly felt that this might be the case, yet couldn’t uncover exactly what this might be. It was a bit like that adult cartoon from the 1990s, King of the Hill. I could never take it at face value, always believed that there was something subversive going on but was never able to work out what it was.
Way Home can be approached then, from two different angles. You can try to read around the central story, look for the hidden message or meanings. Or you can simply go along for the ride. Either way, you’re in for a fascinating and utterly absorbing ride. Fisher’s writing style is open, vivid and straightforward. Yet it also knowing, arch and crackles with dry wit and sharp observation. Adult or child, it really makes no difference this is a short sharp joyride home.
WAY HOME by Andrew Fisher
Published by Opel Press
Paperback £5.00
ISBN 978-0-9560997-0-9
_________________________________________________________________________________
RUN FREE by Andrew Fisher

Run Free is and isn’t a sequel to Andrew Fisher’s Way Home. We meet the same family from the first book, now thrown on hard times because Dad is unemployed and trying to find a job and they have been forced to move in with Mum’s sister Jen The problem is that Aunt Jen’s charity seems to be an act of duty rather than love.
For this novel, the focus shifts from young Jamie to his sister Helen, the little girl of the family. She is as astute and sharp as her brother and makes for an entertaining and affecting guide through the first segments of the story. She is plucky, restless, an adventurer and well able to stand up for herself.
As with Way Home, the story is told in a direct, clear style that enhances the child’s eye view of what is happening as well as enabling the younger reader to understand and enjoy the journey. There is plenty going on in this slim volume, the mystery of the old postcards for a start. Helen finds them under the floor of the attic in which she and Jamie sleep. Each one has a message on the back, written in an enigmatic numeric code. There is also the strange tree, a bad tempered girl who lives at the bottom of the garden, a tunnel, a deserted shed, and a police helicopter that punctuates the story as it clatters over the protagonists’ heads, issuing loudspeaker messages tell of runaway criminals. Helen also has to contend with her somewhat obnoxious older cousins.
The tensions between, and within, the two families are well portrayed and there is a cast of marvellous and well-drawn characters, even the all-but non-speaking walk-on role of Jen’s husband is three-dimensional and sketches someone who is more than a face in the family crowd. The numerous problems in Aunt Jen’s life are sympathetically revealed and as a result she is steadily transformed from the “villain” of the piece to someone for which we feel much more empathy and connection.
And that is one of the unsettling jolts in this novel, the sudden change of viewpoint that makes the latter segment of the novel a very different story from the one at the start of the book. It’s like a Roy Orbison song, starting out, quiet and low key then rising and metamorphosing into something more dramatic. Okay, perhaps not Roy Orbison, but that’s what it made me think of, dramatic this isn’t, rather, the ending is neat and knife sharp. This change of key is a bold narrative step but it works because the entire novel has a mosaic, shifting quality. Many of the enigmas are not answered, or are they? There is that code, remember, and tantalising glimpses of the future, adult Helen.
Run Free bristles with incident and dry wit. It teases and to a certain extent, torments. Like its predecessor, Way Home, it can be simply read as a highly entertaining story or it can be studied, peered into and puzzled over. It has that quality I like to call satisfying ambiguity. The helicopter is a very interesting intrusion, it brings an oppressive malevolence. Its engine dominates everything, the messages called out from its loudspeakers give it a distinctly Orwellian feel.
Andrew Fisher is a fascinating, immensely entertaining and readable writer and one who most definitely deserves to be heard.
RUN FREE by Andrew Fisher
Published by Opel Press
Paperback £5.00
ISBN 978-0-9560997-1-6
________________________________________________________________________________
For this novel, the focus shifts from young Jamie to his sister Helen, the little girl of the family. She is as astute and sharp as her brother and makes for an entertaining and affecting guide through the first segments of the story. She is plucky, restless, an adventurer and well able to stand up for herself.
As with Way Home, the story is told in a direct, clear style that enhances the child’s eye view of what is happening as well as enabling the younger reader to understand and enjoy the journey. There is plenty going on in this slim volume, the mystery of the old postcards for a start. Helen finds them under the floor of the attic in which she and Jamie sleep. Each one has a message on the back, written in an enigmatic numeric code. There is also the strange tree, a bad tempered girl who lives at the bottom of the garden, a tunnel, a deserted shed, and a police helicopter that punctuates the story as it clatters over the protagonists’ heads, issuing loudspeaker messages tell of runaway criminals. Helen also has to contend with her somewhat obnoxious older cousins.
The tensions between, and within, the two families are well portrayed and there is a cast of marvellous and well-drawn characters, even the all-but non-speaking walk-on role of Jen’s husband is three-dimensional and sketches someone who is more than a face in the family crowd. The numerous problems in Aunt Jen’s life are sympathetically revealed and as a result she is steadily transformed from the “villain” of the piece to someone for which we feel much more empathy and connection.
And that is one of the unsettling jolts in this novel, the sudden change of viewpoint that makes the latter segment of the novel a very different story from the one at the start of the book. It’s like a Roy Orbison song, starting out, quiet and low key then rising and metamorphosing into something more dramatic. Okay, perhaps not Roy Orbison, but that’s what it made me think of, dramatic this isn’t, rather, the ending is neat and knife sharp. This change of key is a bold narrative step but it works because the entire novel has a mosaic, shifting quality. Many of the enigmas are not answered, or are they? There is that code, remember, and tantalising glimpses of the future, adult Helen.
Run Free bristles with incident and dry wit. It teases and to a certain extent, torments. Like its predecessor, Way Home, it can be simply read as a highly entertaining story or it can be studied, peered into and puzzled over. It has that quality I like to call satisfying ambiguity. The helicopter is a very interesting intrusion, it brings an oppressive malevolence. Its engine dominates everything, the messages called out from its loudspeakers give it a distinctly Orwellian feel.
Andrew Fisher is a fascinating, immensely entertaining and readable writer and one who most definitely deserves to be heard.
RUN FREE by Andrew Fisher
Published by Opel Press
Paperback £5.00
ISBN 978-0-9560997-1-6
________________________________________________________________________________
WINE AND RANK POISON by Allyson Bird

From the beautiful cover to the very heart of its stories, Allyson Bird’s Wine and Rank Poison is stained with a sense of wrongness, of darkness. We are indeed being offered a glass of the grape but one that it is laced with something far less comforting.
Bird is doing something in her writing that is hard to define. It isn’t overt horror or fantasy, but it’s certainly not mainstream fiction. There is an experiment here, an effort to blur the edges. Okay, it doesn't always work but that doesn’t matter. Surely it is better to attempt something different than to regurgitate those worn old traditional tropes.
The author is at her strongest when she is pulling open the real world, the recognisable and familiar, and laying bare its darkly strange vitals. Among my favourites are a pair of stories set in Russia, both of which are utterly convincing both in terms of their setting and atmosphere. The first of these is the book’s starter, The Black Swan of Odessa, which opens with the description of its two male protagonists in a Stalinist apartment, their relationship, vividly and realistically drawn by their spiky dialogue.
Following hard on The Black Swan’s heels comes another Russia-based tale, The Twelfth Chair. A man has arrived in the country for an attempted reunion with his estranged mail-order bride only to be waylaid and befriended by a mysterious and persistent stranger. Will the reconciliation be achieved ? There is a slow-burn tension and a startling ending. Another of my favourites is The Convent at Bazzano in which a family take up their Italian holiday residence in the building of the title. As you would expect, the Convent is not all it seems and is ridden the shadows of all kind. Italy and its savage family secrets and brutal power struggles is also the setting for another excellent story, The Legacy.
The other strand to Allyson Bird’s web is her classical fantasies such as Atalanta, which takes a look at the Argonauts myth from a very different viewpoint. For me personally these are the stories that didn’t always work. They are, however, filled with ideas, with interesting takes on familiar myth and legend and in one case, Beauty and the Beast set in an interesting meld of Ancient Egypt and modern Britain. These tales are a brave attempt to unpick and rethread these stories and characters and are, in some ways, reminiscent of the more subtle, fantasy-based work of Algernon Blackwood.
Classical fantasy and the modern world are successfully blended in the revenge story For You, Faustine and the dark, dark but gruesomely satisfying Vulkodlak.
There are times when the supernatural is not needed, when human interplay is strong, and character and atmosphere are enough. Those were the moments when I forgot I was reading a mainly fantastical book and found myself immersed in Bird’s view of the world. The Twelfth Chair and The Black Swan of Odessa are good examples of this. I would have been as happy with a more earthly denouement as I was with the unearthly one.
Wine and Rank Poison is not a comfortable or quick read. It demands your full attention. It doesn’t always declare itself without a fight, but it is rewarding. It is a book of concealed secrets and shadowed corners that are well worth exploring.
WINE AND RANK POISON by Allyson Bird
Published by Dark Regions Press
________________________________________________________________________________
Bird is doing something in her writing that is hard to define. It isn’t overt horror or fantasy, but it’s certainly not mainstream fiction. There is an experiment here, an effort to blur the edges. Okay, it doesn't always work but that doesn’t matter. Surely it is better to attempt something different than to regurgitate those worn old traditional tropes.
The author is at her strongest when she is pulling open the real world, the recognisable and familiar, and laying bare its darkly strange vitals. Among my favourites are a pair of stories set in Russia, both of which are utterly convincing both in terms of their setting and atmosphere. The first of these is the book’s starter, The Black Swan of Odessa, which opens with the description of its two male protagonists in a Stalinist apartment, their relationship, vividly and realistically drawn by their spiky dialogue.
Following hard on The Black Swan’s heels comes another Russia-based tale, The Twelfth Chair. A man has arrived in the country for an attempted reunion with his estranged mail-order bride only to be waylaid and befriended by a mysterious and persistent stranger. Will the reconciliation be achieved ? There is a slow-burn tension and a startling ending. Another of my favourites is The Convent at Bazzano in which a family take up their Italian holiday residence in the building of the title. As you would expect, the Convent is not all it seems and is ridden the shadows of all kind. Italy and its savage family secrets and brutal power struggles is also the setting for another excellent story, The Legacy.
The other strand to Allyson Bird’s web is her classical fantasies such as Atalanta, which takes a look at the Argonauts myth from a very different viewpoint. For me personally these are the stories that didn’t always work. They are, however, filled with ideas, with interesting takes on familiar myth and legend and in one case, Beauty and the Beast set in an interesting meld of Ancient Egypt and modern Britain. These tales are a brave attempt to unpick and rethread these stories and characters and are, in some ways, reminiscent of the more subtle, fantasy-based work of Algernon Blackwood.
Classical fantasy and the modern world are successfully blended in the revenge story For You, Faustine and the dark, dark but gruesomely satisfying Vulkodlak.
There are times when the supernatural is not needed, when human interplay is strong, and character and atmosphere are enough. Those were the moments when I forgot I was reading a mainly fantastical book and found myself immersed in Bird’s view of the world. The Twelfth Chair and The Black Swan of Odessa are good examples of this. I would have been as happy with a more earthly denouement as I was with the unearthly one.
Wine and Rank Poison is not a comfortable or quick read. It demands your full attention. It doesn’t always declare itself without a fight, but it is rewarding. It is a book of concealed secrets and shadowed corners that are well worth exploring.
WINE AND RANK POISON by Allyson Bird
Published by Dark Regions Press
________________________________________________________________________________
THE EMPATHY EFFECT by Bob Lock

This is a thoroughly enjoyable novel. From the first page, as the cold waves lap about the helpless hero’s feet and there is no hope of rescue, you are drawn in, bound as tightly as he is and not released until the final denouement. There’s tension and inventiveness and a healthy dose of black comedy which makes this book extremely endearing and its protagonist a personable and entertaining companion throughout the story.
To put it simply, The Empathy Effect is fun.
Cooper Jones is a Swansea Traffic warden, an unlikely profession for the hero of a thriller. He is also an alcoholic and even more importantly, an empath. He can feel, can sense other people’s emotions, but this is both gift and curse. It has served him well, but once, when he was young, he failed to heed what he gift was telling him and the ghost of that failure has haunted him ever since. He was dealing with it.
Until…
The moment, while he is simply doing his job, he encounters a wave of hatred far more intense than those he normally experiences in the line of his Traffic Warden duties and finds himself plunged into a spiral of increasingly unsettling, disturbing and violent events. He is chased, shot at and threatened. He is left in charge of a deliciously malevolent dog, infiltrates an illegal blood sport ring and is finally left to drown while his friends are helpless and unable to save him.
There is a hint of Michael Dibdin’s Dirty Tricks here, and a distinct nod towards Leslie Thomas’s Dangerous Davies. But Cooper Jones most definitely Bob Lock’s own excellent creation. It is a bright, satisfying meld of thriller and comedy. Cooper is amiably disreputable and hapless. I can see this working as a one-off television film, the pace and plot construction lends itself beautifully to the visual medium.
One little criticism is that Cooper’s empathetic powers seem to be forgotten about two thirds of the way through the book, but this is a small gripe and doesn’t really detract from he sheer good natured fun of Lock’s storytelling..
The Empathy Effect then, great , brooding cover art, a neat twist-and-turn plot, murders, psychopaths, nasty abductions, edge of the seat cliff-hangers and compelling characters , what else could you possibly need?
THE EMPATHY EFFECT by Bob Lock
Published by Screaming Dreams
Paperback £6.99
ISBN 978-8-1-906652-07-4
________________________________________________________________________________
To put it simply, The Empathy Effect is fun.
Cooper Jones is a Swansea Traffic warden, an unlikely profession for the hero of a thriller. He is also an alcoholic and even more importantly, an empath. He can feel, can sense other people’s emotions, but this is both gift and curse. It has served him well, but once, when he was young, he failed to heed what he gift was telling him and the ghost of that failure has haunted him ever since. He was dealing with it.
Until…
The moment, while he is simply doing his job, he encounters a wave of hatred far more intense than those he normally experiences in the line of his Traffic Warden duties and finds himself plunged into a spiral of increasingly unsettling, disturbing and violent events. He is chased, shot at and threatened. He is left in charge of a deliciously malevolent dog, infiltrates an illegal blood sport ring and is finally left to drown while his friends are helpless and unable to save him.
There is a hint of Michael Dibdin’s Dirty Tricks here, and a distinct nod towards Leslie Thomas’s Dangerous Davies. But Cooper Jones most definitely Bob Lock’s own excellent creation. It is a bright, satisfying meld of thriller and comedy. Cooper is amiably disreputable and hapless. I can see this working as a one-off television film, the pace and plot construction lends itself beautifully to the visual medium.
One little criticism is that Cooper’s empathetic powers seem to be forgotten about two thirds of the way through the book, but this is a small gripe and doesn’t really detract from he sheer good natured fun of Lock’s storytelling..
The Empathy Effect then, great , brooding cover art, a neat twist-and-turn plot, murders, psychopaths, nasty abductions, edge of the seat cliff-hangers and compelling characters , what else could you possibly need?
THE EMPATHY EFFECT by Bob Lock
Published by Screaming Dreams
Paperback £6.99
ISBN 978-8-1-906652-07-4
________________________________________________________________________________
MURKY DEPTHS Issue 14 Edited by Terry Martin

Although this review is centred on Issue 14 of Murky Depths, I aim to comment on the magazine as a whole.
Current holder of the British Fantasy Society award for Best Magazine, Murky Depths contains both straight text narrative and graphic stories. It is the latter that makes the periodical unique. This isn’t the first time these have been mixed of course, Midnight Street and Legend, for example, often incorporated the two story forms. Murky Depths, however, has made this mix the basis of its existence and does it very well indeed.
I am a newcomer to the graphic story, previously dismissing it as something I had outgrown on the day I threw my last copy of Valiant into the corner of my bedroom and reached for A E vanVogt’s Slan (the first sf novel I ever read). So my feelings were mixed when I first ventured into Murky Depths. It didn't happen for me immediately but is can honestly say that the story form has grown on me. I have come to appreciate its difference from the “written” narrative. It is more visual, obviously, and filmic in the episodic, scene-by-scene way the tale is told. What impresses me most is the way a complex narrative (and its back story) can be told in a few dozen frames. This is true economy of words.
They are, I have to say, often extremely violent, and the quality of the artwork can vary considerably from story to story. But the overall effect gives the magazine a tremendous energy. Murky Depths is immediate, open is pages and there is story and character and things happening. Not an inch of white space is wasted. This is truly a labour of love, indeed, of passion.
Issue 14 is adorned with a shatteringly beautiful and disturbing cover and leads you straight into a well-illustrated and entertaining interview with the cover’s artist Montynero. From there it’s onto the first graphic story, the wittily realised and honestly moving Performance Anxiety which is the work of Greg Dunford (script), Gibson Quarter (art), Eden Bacelder (tones), T V Templeton (layouts) and Martin Deep (lettering). A classic tale this, the end of the world is nigh and there is only one thing left for the protagonist to achieve…
Onward then into straight narrative with Leila Eadie’s intensely enjoyable and compelling story of wish fulfilment Now and Then! , again beautifully illustrated, this time by Ian Jones. Damien Walters Grintalis follows this with another text narrative, Lilacs. I was not so enamoured by this story, complex and well-written as it was, I found it hard to remain engaged. A few re-reads, however, have brought home the deftness and beauty of the writing style. Martin Deep provides the visuals. High Score by Jeffrey B Burton completes this trilogy of straight narratives. A fast-paced story of computer gaming and the cost to body and soul it exacts. Rick Fairlamb’s illustration exudes energy and character.
Raz Greenberg and Neil Struthers’ Small Packages, is the next graphic story. What is in those packages? And why is everyone so…happy? Darkly drawn and with that typical fast pace I mentioned earlier. An immensely satisfying read (and look) and cleverly constructed to reveal the truth (and lies).
Phoenix Rising by Adam Bealby’s takes us back into text narrative, a deceptive tale that starts as a somewhat mediocre fantasy then jerks us into something much darker and more cynical. Zarina Liew provides the ghostly cover art.
Stone by Neil Benyon (art by Kev Levell) is a gripping and visceral story of demon-summoning with a difference. Hellhole is another graphic tale which manages to convey its complex back story in a few words and sweep the reader into its jaws in a moment. It is too violent and, well comic-strip, for my taste but the monsters are imaginative and with a well portrayed malevolence. Hellhole is the creation of Luke Cooper.
Bated Breath by Jim Valenti and illustrated gorgeously by Nathanial Milljour, is my favourite story. A man is preparing for a female visitor, the wine is chilled, the caviar ready. But all is not as it seems. The sheer, joyous cruelty of this short yarn left me discomforted and delighted.
Dystopia and disfigurement are the themes of Keith Roson’s bitter Droppers. Clever characterisation steadily turns an unlikable, violent street kid into someone much more sympathetic. The dropper is vividly depicted by artist Dan Havardi. And so, on to the concluding story, Andrew Hook’s Phototherapy in which a trainee psychologist embarks on his first assignment armed only with a set of photographs. What is real, what is illusion? Ably handled and compelling, a gripping climax to the magazine’s fiction offering. Although appropriate to the story, Martin Deep’s artwork didn’t work for me I’m afraid.
Rounding up the proceedings is Matt Wallace’s regular Depth Charge column in which he wades into the digital revolution.
As I said earlier, Murky Depths brims with good, dark fiction, of both the head-on and corner-of-the-eye varieties. Mostly it works, sometimes doesn’t, but through it all the publication exudes energy and vitality. It champions a different form of fiction. It is busy, restless, brave and exciting. So, go on, take a chance and subscribe, and throw yourself into those Murky Depths.
MURKY DEPTHS Edited by Terry Martin
Published by The House of Murky Depths
Cost per issue £6.99
ISBN 9 7717 52 558002
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
Current holder of the British Fantasy Society award for Best Magazine, Murky Depths contains both straight text narrative and graphic stories. It is the latter that makes the periodical unique. This isn’t the first time these have been mixed of course, Midnight Street and Legend, for example, often incorporated the two story forms. Murky Depths, however, has made this mix the basis of its existence and does it very well indeed.
I am a newcomer to the graphic story, previously dismissing it as something I had outgrown on the day I threw my last copy of Valiant into the corner of my bedroom and reached for A E vanVogt’s Slan (the first sf novel I ever read). So my feelings were mixed when I first ventured into Murky Depths. It didn't happen for me immediately but is can honestly say that the story form has grown on me. I have come to appreciate its difference from the “written” narrative. It is more visual, obviously, and filmic in the episodic, scene-by-scene way the tale is told. What impresses me most is the way a complex narrative (and its back story) can be told in a few dozen frames. This is true economy of words.
They are, I have to say, often extremely violent, and the quality of the artwork can vary considerably from story to story. But the overall effect gives the magazine a tremendous energy. Murky Depths is immediate, open is pages and there is story and character and things happening. Not an inch of white space is wasted. This is truly a labour of love, indeed, of passion.
Issue 14 is adorned with a shatteringly beautiful and disturbing cover and leads you straight into a well-illustrated and entertaining interview with the cover’s artist Montynero. From there it’s onto the first graphic story, the wittily realised and honestly moving Performance Anxiety which is the work of Greg Dunford (script), Gibson Quarter (art), Eden Bacelder (tones), T V Templeton (layouts) and Martin Deep (lettering). A classic tale this, the end of the world is nigh and there is only one thing left for the protagonist to achieve…
Onward then into straight narrative with Leila Eadie’s intensely enjoyable and compelling story of wish fulfilment Now and Then! , again beautifully illustrated, this time by Ian Jones. Damien Walters Grintalis follows this with another text narrative, Lilacs. I was not so enamoured by this story, complex and well-written as it was, I found it hard to remain engaged. A few re-reads, however, have brought home the deftness and beauty of the writing style. Martin Deep provides the visuals. High Score by Jeffrey B Burton completes this trilogy of straight narratives. A fast-paced story of computer gaming and the cost to body and soul it exacts. Rick Fairlamb’s illustration exudes energy and character.
Raz Greenberg and Neil Struthers’ Small Packages, is the next graphic story. What is in those packages? And why is everyone so…happy? Darkly drawn and with that typical fast pace I mentioned earlier. An immensely satisfying read (and look) and cleverly constructed to reveal the truth (and lies).
Phoenix Rising by Adam Bealby’s takes us back into text narrative, a deceptive tale that starts as a somewhat mediocre fantasy then jerks us into something much darker and more cynical. Zarina Liew provides the ghostly cover art.
Stone by Neil Benyon (art by Kev Levell) is a gripping and visceral story of demon-summoning with a difference. Hellhole is another graphic tale which manages to convey its complex back story in a few words and sweep the reader into its jaws in a moment. It is too violent and, well comic-strip, for my taste but the monsters are imaginative and with a well portrayed malevolence. Hellhole is the creation of Luke Cooper.
Bated Breath by Jim Valenti and illustrated gorgeously by Nathanial Milljour, is my favourite story. A man is preparing for a female visitor, the wine is chilled, the caviar ready. But all is not as it seems. The sheer, joyous cruelty of this short yarn left me discomforted and delighted.
Dystopia and disfigurement are the themes of Keith Roson’s bitter Droppers. Clever characterisation steadily turns an unlikable, violent street kid into someone much more sympathetic. The dropper is vividly depicted by artist Dan Havardi. And so, on to the concluding story, Andrew Hook’s Phototherapy in which a trainee psychologist embarks on his first assignment armed only with a set of photographs. What is real, what is illusion? Ably handled and compelling, a gripping climax to the magazine’s fiction offering. Although appropriate to the story, Martin Deep’s artwork didn’t work for me I’m afraid.
Rounding up the proceedings is Matt Wallace’s regular Depth Charge column in which he wades into the digital revolution.
As I said earlier, Murky Depths brims with good, dark fiction, of both the head-on and corner-of-the-eye varieties. Mostly it works, sometimes doesn’t, but through it all the publication exudes energy and vitality. It champions a different form of fiction. It is busy, restless, brave and exciting. So, go on, take a chance and subscribe, and throw yourself into those Murky Depths.
MURKY DEPTHS Edited by Terry Martin
Published by The House of Murky Depths
Cost per issue £6.99
ISBN 9 7717 52 558002
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
SYLVOW by Douglas Thompson

Caveat: Whilst my own novel Bloody War is soon to be released by Eibonvale Press, the publishers of Sylvow, I have endeavoured, as far as is possible, to make this a fair and objective review.
Sylvow is a city, a mythical meld, according to its creator, of Glasgow (Scotland), Osnabruck (Germany) and Novogrudek (Belarus). It is, in many ways, an unremarkable place, a conurbation full of recognisable citizens and institutions. It is also surrounded by an immense forest and it is this dark and almost sentient landscape that proves to be Sylvow’s nemesis. Slowly, inexorably the forest begins to feel its way into the city’s environs, seeds fall like bombs, growing in moments into lethal, hungry, carnivorous plants, the tarmac cracks, physical and societal structures start to break down. Sylvow itself is more than the location of the story. There are few references to other towns or cities, the focus is intense and this heightens the sense of isolation, of threat. It is the forest and city, there is no one who can intervene and help.
Yes, on the one level this is a catastrophe novel; nature’s revenge, humanity driven back and on the ropes. But there is much more to Sylvow than simply man against nature. The focus is as much on the characters whose lives are distorted by the encroaching doom as on the doom itself.
The cast themselves are a fascinating mix; Anton, grieving for his dead father. Doctor Franco Reinwald, an adulterous psychiatrist who falls for his wildchild patient, Claudia and Vivienne, who turn to one another for comfort and find a love unexpected and Leo, missing after he walked into the forest, a martyr, a human returned to the primal, or simply lost and probably dead? Unconventional human beings, but rooted deep into the believable, the soil over which we ourselves walk. Engaging, not always likeable, these characters earn our trust and concern, which makes the eventual, and surreal, destruction of their lives, so much more poignant.
But are their lives so much different from those of the wild things out there? When it comes down to the basic level, the need level, the lives and actions of the Thompson’s characters are about survival in one form or another.
Yet there is also a cold, somewhat brutal heart beating in this novel, a hard, as unflinching as nature itself and just as red in tooth and claw. No one is spared because of their gender of age. If they are in the way, if they stumble or fall, the relentless forces bearing in on the city will take them. The soulless, ruthlessness of plants, the desperate, uncompromising fight for survival by living entities that possess a life we cannot hope to comprehend is vividly and unflinchingly portrayed.
Is this nature’s revenge? Perhaps. The town itself is built in the heart of the forest so, presumably, trees were torn down and the ground ripped open to facilitate its construction. But the truth seems more complex than that. The assault feels more like evolution, nature has reached the next stage of its development. Even though survival remains its motivation, if motivation is the right term for the plant, it is the mechanism of that survival that has changed.
This novel is reminiscent of the disaster stories of J G Ballard, the most obvious comparison being The Crystal World. However, Douglas Thompson is very much his own man and the style, imagery, and the sheer surrealism of the novel’s latter segments (with piratical raiders controlling great swathes of the ravaged city) are most definitely products of a very fertile imagination. Like most of Douglas Thompsons’ work, the beautifully packaged and illustrated Sylvow is a challenge, but for the serious reader, it is a challenge well worth the effort.
SYLVOW BY Douglas Thompson
Published by Eibonvale Press
Paperback £8.99 Hardback £20.00
ISBN 10 0956214770
___________________________________________________________________________________________
Sylvow is a city, a mythical meld, according to its creator, of Glasgow (Scotland), Osnabruck (Germany) and Novogrudek (Belarus). It is, in many ways, an unremarkable place, a conurbation full of recognisable citizens and institutions. It is also surrounded by an immense forest and it is this dark and almost sentient landscape that proves to be Sylvow’s nemesis. Slowly, inexorably the forest begins to feel its way into the city’s environs, seeds fall like bombs, growing in moments into lethal, hungry, carnivorous plants, the tarmac cracks, physical and societal structures start to break down. Sylvow itself is more than the location of the story. There are few references to other towns or cities, the focus is intense and this heightens the sense of isolation, of threat. It is the forest and city, there is no one who can intervene and help.
Yes, on the one level this is a catastrophe novel; nature’s revenge, humanity driven back and on the ropes. But there is much more to Sylvow than simply man against nature. The focus is as much on the characters whose lives are distorted by the encroaching doom as on the doom itself.
The cast themselves are a fascinating mix; Anton, grieving for his dead father. Doctor Franco Reinwald, an adulterous psychiatrist who falls for his wildchild patient, Claudia and Vivienne, who turn to one another for comfort and find a love unexpected and Leo, missing after he walked into the forest, a martyr, a human returned to the primal, or simply lost and probably dead? Unconventional human beings, but rooted deep into the believable, the soil over which we ourselves walk. Engaging, not always likeable, these characters earn our trust and concern, which makes the eventual, and surreal, destruction of their lives, so much more poignant.
But are their lives so much different from those of the wild things out there? When it comes down to the basic level, the need level, the lives and actions of the Thompson’s characters are about survival in one form or another.
Yet there is also a cold, somewhat brutal heart beating in this novel, a hard, as unflinching as nature itself and just as red in tooth and claw. No one is spared because of their gender of age. If they are in the way, if they stumble or fall, the relentless forces bearing in on the city will take them. The soulless, ruthlessness of plants, the desperate, uncompromising fight for survival by living entities that possess a life we cannot hope to comprehend is vividly and unflinchingly portrayed.
Is this nature’s revenge? Perhaps. The town itself is built in the heart of the forest so, presumably, trees were torn down and the ground ripped open to facilitate its construction. But the truth seems more complex than that. The assault feels more like evolution, nature has reached the next stage of its development. Even though survival remains its motivation, if motivation is the right term for the plant, it is the mechanism of that survival that has changed.
This novel is reminiscent of the disaster stories of J G Ballard, the most obvious comparison being The Crystal World. However, Douglas Thompson is very much his own man and the style, imagery, and the sheer surrealism of the novel’s latter segments (with piratical raiders controlling great swathes of the ravaged city) are most definitely products of a very fertile imagination. Like most of Douglas Thompsons’ work, the beautifully packaged and illustrated Sylvow is a challenge, but for the serious reader, it is a challenge well worth the effort.
SYLVOW BY Douglas Thompson
Published by Eibonvale Press
Paperback £8.99 Hardback £20.00
ISBN 10 0956214770
___________________________________________________________________________________________
THE RED HOUSE by David J Thacker

Caveat: Whilst my own novella The Places Between has been released by Pendragon Press, the publishers of The Red House, I have endeavoured, as far as is possible, to make this a fair and objective review.
Deep in the woods, hidden from view and seemingly unattached to the rest of world is a windowless, enigmatic building the locals call “The Red House”. No one seems to know what it is, why it is here or what is inside. It is just there. This Red House is the beating heart of David J Thacker’s novella .
Centred around the exploits of a gang of young lads during an indeterminate, post war summer, in the woods around an unnamed town, “The Red House" tells of the effect the arrival of an undernourished, unkempt boy has on the group. A boy is as enigmatic as the building of the title, someone who is all but feral, but strangely affecting.
Though located almost entirely in the woods, indeed, in a small area of the woods the gang of boys considers their own particular territory, the novella has roots that join the woods to the wider world, a world that is changing and often incomprehensible to those experiencing that change. The fact that their main characters are all children, in the last days of their youthful innocence reflects a world undergoing a similar change, from the shreds of innocence that linger even after the most apocalyptic war there has ever been into the clashing, banging, cynical modern world we know and love/hate.
The Red House itself? The building is always ambiguous, always symbolic, unsettling. It holds a truth but what is it? Chinks are revealed, little rays of light, or darkness. Is it a gateway? A time machine? A cipher? A mysterious factory?
The enigma that is the boy from the woods is beautifully handled. His relationship with the gang develops at a realistic pace, suspicion becomes curiosity then the compassion, which in my experience as a college tutor, lies in the heart of even the toughest young lad.
Steve Upham’s beautifully, unsettling cover sets the tone exactly, there is thick forest, gnarled, tangled branches, and nestled there, in the gloom, bloodily lit by what might be a bright setting sun, is the building itself. It does not look inviting, not the place for a picnic.
So, are you going to down to the woods to visit the Red House? I think you should, the visit will be edgy, uncomfortable, moving and satisfying.
The Red House by David J Thacker
Published by Pendragon Press
Format: paperback
ISBN: 9781906864057
Price: £3.00
_______________________________________________________________________________
Deep in the woods, hidden from view and seemingly unattached to the rest of world is a windowless, enigmatic building the locals call “The Red House”. No one seems to know what it is, why it is here or what is inside. It is just there. This Red House is the beating heart of David J Thacker’s novella .
Centred around the exploits of a gang of young lads during an indeterminate, post war summer, in the woods around an unnamed town, “The Red House" tells of the effect the arrival of an undernourished, unkempt boy has on the group. A boy is as enigmatic as the building of the title, someone who is all but feral, but strangely affecting.
Though located almost entirely in the woods, indeed, in a small area of the woods the gang of boys considers their own particular territory, the novella has roots that join the woods to the wider world, a world that is changing and often incomprehensible to those experiencing that change. The fact that their main characters are all children, in the last days of their youthful innocence reflects a world undergoing a similar change, from the shreds of innocence that linger even after the most apocalyptic war there has ever been into the clashing, banging, cynical modern world we know and love/hate.
The Red House itself? The building is always ambiguous, always symbolic, unsettling. It holds a truth but what is it? Chinks are revealed, little rays of light, or darkness. Is it a gateway? A time machine? A cipher? A mysterious factory?
The enigma that is the boy from the woods is beautifully handled. His relationship with the gang develops at a realistic pace, suspicion becomes curiosity then the compassion, which in my experience as a college tutor, lies in the heart of even the toughest young lad.
Steve Upham’s beautifully, unsettling cover sets the tone exactly, there is thick forest, gnarled, tangled branches, and nestled there, in the gloom, bloodily lit by what might be a bright setting sun, is the building itself. It does not look inviting, not the place for a picnic.
So, are you going to down to the woods to visit the Red House? I think you should, the visit will be edgy, uncomfortable, moving and satisfying.
The Red House by David J Thacker
Published by Pendragon Press
Format: paperback
ISBN: 9781906864057
Price: £3.00
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DREAMS OF FLIGHT by Jessica Lawrence

Pick up a copy of Dreams of Flight and you will discover that behind Theronda Hoffman’s gorgeous cover lays a collection of poetry that inspires, puzzles and stirs a welter of emotion and thought. This is the work of Jessica Lawrence, a multi-layered maelstrom of words that lingers in the mind long after the book is closed and the work read.
Lawrence is a powerful spinner of ideas and imagery, at times so visceral you can almost reach in and touch the things she describes. Her poetry is energy-full, immediate and held together by complex structures of rhythms and clusters of half-rhymes that are often more effective than full rhyme could ever be.
The title poem is a moving account of a mother watching the sweeping, birdlike motions her daughter makes as she sleeps; “her body glides in gentle backstroke movements...” The mother is made nostalgic by the memory of her own long-ago dreams of flying and the hope that the freedom she has lost now belongs to her daughter. Refugee Trees comes from Jessica Lawrence’s ongoing battle to prevent the plane trees outside her home from being butchered by local council contractors as they shorn the street’s trees of their branches in an annual homage to health and safety “the blunt stubs of the trees like cigarette butts or the end of bed rows of frozen toes…” The descriptions of denuded tree trunks and comparison with the shaven headed refugees and holocaust victim is another powerful visual metaphor; “Refugees pruned of their dignity…”
The Butterfly House is an example of the visceral quality of Lawrence’s work. “I stroked the velvet wings of the moth and let the banana sucking red laced angel settle on my shoulder”, “The chore of metamorphosis unclawed in a mawkish brawl…” and then, the focus shifts, and there is something else emerging from the chrysalis , a different type of new life, a subtle duality of meaning. Yes, you are still among the butterflies, but there is a shadow here, a new layer glimpsed beneath the fluttering wings and writhing pupae.
New found love, that first touch, those first breathless seconds is captured vividly in Harvesting, “I wanted to preserve that moment – to separate and savour it like decanted wine…” The last acts of a relationship are then etched in acid within the lines of Addicts “…what we now share is an addiction to Silk Cut instead of to each other.” Tasting Water compares the geology and ecology of water to the ebb and flow of a human life. This is a particularly image-rich piece, many layered, difficult but ripe with meanings, both the author’s and the reader’s own.
This is no quick and easy read, no volume of superficial, smile-making rhymes. Dreams of Flight is a journey into the human soul, into experience and emotion. It exposes the reader to a vista that is often overwhelming, sometimes difficult to understand but never clichéd or stale. These poems need to be read, thought about, re-read and savoured. The wordplay and wordcraft are stiletto-precise. You feel as if each phrase has been torn out of the creative coalface by sheer force of will. There are many very personal works here, but don’t let that put you off because even the most personal and opaque pieces can present the reader with their own personal meanings and interpretations. Simultaneously fragile and raging, Dreams of Flight will strike a chord that thrums through the heart and mind long after the covers are closed and the book placed on its shelf.
Published by Poet Launderette Press
Paperback £8.70
_____________________________________________________________
Lawrence is a powerful spinner of ideas and imagery, at times so visceral you can almost reach in and touch the things she describes. Her poetry is energy-full, immediate and held together by complex structures of rhythms and clusters of half-rhymes that are often more effective than full rhyme could ever be.
The title poem is a moving account of a mother watching the sweeping, birdlike motions her daughter makes as she sleeps; “her body glides in gentle backstroke movements...” The mother is made nostalgic by the memory of her own long-ago dreams of flying and the hope that the freedom she has lost now belongs to her daughter. Refugee Trees comes from Jessica Lawrence’s ongoing battle to prevent the plane trees outside her home from being butchered by local council contractors as they shorn the street’s trees of their branches in an annual homage to health and safety “the blunt stubs of the trees like cigarette butts or the end of bed rows of frozen toes…” The descriptions of denuded tree trunks and comparison with the shaven headed refugees and holocaust victim is another powerful visual metaphor; “Refugees pruned of their dignity…”
The Butterfly House is an example of the visceral quality of Lawrence’s work. “I stroked the velvet wings of the moth and let the banana sucking red laced angel settle on my shoulder”, “The chore of metamorphosis unclawed in a mawkish brawl…” and then, the focus shifts, and there is something else emerging from the chrysalis , a different type of new life, a subtle duality of meaning. Yes, you are still among the butterflies, but there is a shadow here, a new layer glimpsed beneath the fluttering wings and writhing pupae.
New found love, that first touch, those first breathless seconds is captured vividly in Harvesting, “I wanted to preserve that moment – to separate and savour it like decanted wine…” The last acts of a relationship are then etched in acid within the lines of Addicts “…what we now share is an addiction to Silk Cut instead of to each other.” Tasting Water compares the geology and ecology of water to the ebb and flow of a human life. This is a particularly image-rich piece, many layered, difficult but ripe with meanings, both the author’s and the reader’s own.
This is no quick and easy read, no volume of superficial, smile-making rhymes. Dreams of Flight is a journey into the human soul, into experience and emotion. It exposes the reader to a vista that is often overwhelming, sometimes difficult to understand but never clichéd or stale. These poems need to be read, thought about, re-read and savoured. The wordplay and wordcraft are stiletto-precise. You feel as if each phrase has been torn out of the creative coalface by sheer force of will. There are many very personal works here, but don’t let that put you off because even the most personal and opaque pieces can present the reader with their own personal meanings and interpretations. Simultaneously fragile and raging, Dreams of Flight will strike a chord that thrums through the heart and mind long after the covers are closed and the book placed on its shelf.
Published by Poet Launderette Press
Paperback £8.70
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SHOES, SHIPS AND CADAVERS Edited by Ian Whates and Ian Watson

Northampton is, in many ways, an overlooked town, almost forgotten. It isn’t certain for example, exactly where it is, East Anglia, the Midlands, or Ooop North? But Northampton has a rich history, a centre that features some beautiful neo-Classical buildings and, if this anthology is anything to go by, a thriving community of authors.
Produced by the Northampton SF Writers Group and published by the excellent NewCon Press, Shoes, Ships and Cadavers is packed with science fiction, history, ghost stories, horror and fantasy. And it all takes place in and around Northampton itself, past, present and future.
Ian Watson opens proceedings in an all too plausible future. A Walk of Solace with my Dead Baby has our new Chinese masters conducting a grotesque experiment. It was a story I found difficult to get into, but once I did, was snatched up and carried along by its bizarre and grisly conceit. Another future view of the town is The Last Economy by Paul Melhuish, which is a fast-paced, thought provoking tale of corporate slavery and serfdom, Mark West’s dark and tragic What we Sometimes do without Thinking bridges the past and present and the way that past can reverberate through the rest of our lives. One of my particular favourites this one, well told and moving.
If you like ghosts, then you’ll enjoy Lifeline by Susan Sinclair, another of my favourites, a living ghost story if you like. Steve Longworth’s, funny and twist-filled Goethe’s Wig follows a similar furrow, but dug with a very different plough. Neil K Bond takes us back to the days when the noose was public entertainment in his affable ghost story, Hanging Around. Again, it took me a while to settle into this story, mainly because the speech and narrative rhythm didn't seem to fit the era in which it opens. However all became clear and I realised that the anachronisms were not anachronisms at all.
The past is also firmly present in Mano Mart by Andy West. I’m afraid I found this one difficult to engage with, personally, but it is original, authoratative and an interesting essay on phonetics. Donna Scott provides a convincing story set in the days of witch mania with Arthur the Witch. The style is authentic and intense, the description and raw emotion of the piece completely engaging.
Tim C Taylor has produced an epic for the collection with his blackly comic I Won the Earth Evacuation Lottery. This is alien invasion with an entirely new and thought-provoking twist. Ian Whates’ These Boots weren’t Made for Walking is another piece of tongue-in-cheek science fiction, rich in comic irony and good fun to…well…boot.
The collection ends, appropriately, with The Tower by Nigel Edwards. Moving, simple and affectionate, it is set in Northampton’s famous (in the town anyway) National Lift Tower and takes us on one final ascent.
Yes, I’ve missed a story out. Sarah Pinborough’s The Old Man of Northampton and the Sea. That’s because it is not only my favourite story in this anthology, but one of the most moving and emotionally engaging short stories I have read for a very long time. I don’t want to give anything away other than the fact that this is a beautiful piece of writing centred around a touching, realistic relationship between youth and old age.
This is the type of anthology I particularly enjoy, themed and varied, each story a surprise waiting to be sprung. Indeed, the theme itself, that somewhat enigmatic settlement just off the M1, is intriguing enough for me. A thoroughly enjoyable book, then, something a little different, and immensely entertaining at all levels.
SHOIES, SHIPS AND CADAVERS edited by Ian Whates and Ian Watson
Published by NewCon Press
e-Book £3.99
Paperback £9.99
Hardback £15.99
ISBN 978-1-907069-18-5
______________________________________________________________
Produced by the Northampton SF Writers Group and published by the excellent NewCon Press, Shoes, Ships and Cadavers is packed with science fiction, history, ghost stories, horror and fantasy. And it all takes place in and around Northampton itself, past, present and future.
Ian Watson opens proceedings in an all too plausible future. A Walk of Solace with my Dead Baby has our new Chinese masters conducting a grotesque experiment. It was a story I found difficult to get into, but once I did, was snatched up and carried along by its bizarre and grisly conceit. Another future view of the town is The Last Economy by Paul Melhuish, which is a fast-paced, thought provoking tale of corporate slavery and serfdom, Mark West’s dark and tragic What we Sometimes do without Thinking bridges the past and present and the way that past can reverberate through the rest of our lives. One of my particular favourites this one, well told and moving.
If you like ghosts, then you’ll enjoy Lifeline by Susan Sinclair, another of my favourites, a living ghost story if you like. Steve Longworth’s, funny and twist-filled Goethe’s Wig follows a similar furrow, but dug with a very different plough. Neil K Bond takes us back to the days when the noose was public entertainment in his affable ghost story, Hanging Around. Again, it took me a while to settle into this story, mainly because the speech and narrative rhythm didn't seem to fit the era in which it opens. However all became clear and I realised that the anachronisms were not anachronisms at all.
The past is also firmly present in Mano Mart by Andy West. I’m afraid I found this one difficult to engage with, personally, but it is original, authoratative and an interesting essay on phonetics. Donna Scott provides a convincing story set in the days of witch mania with Arthur the Witch. The style is authentic and intense, the description and raw emotion of the piece completely engaging.
Tim C Taylor has produced an epic for the collection with his blackly comic I Won the Earth Evacuation Lottery. This is alien invasion with an entirely new and thought-provoking twist. Ian Whates’ These Boots weren’t Made for Walking is another piece of tongue-in-cheek science fiction, rich in comic irony and good fun to…well…boot.
The collection ends, appropriately, with The Tower by Nigel Edwards. Moving, simple and affectionate, it is set in Northampton’s famous (in the town anyway) National Lift Tower and takes us on one final ascent.
Yes, I’ve missed a story out. Sarah Pinborough’s The Old Man of Northampton and the Sea. That’s because it is not only my favourite story in this anthology, but one of the most moving and emotionally engaging short stories I have read for a very long time. I don’t want to give anything away other than the fact that this is a beautiful piece of writing centred around a touching, realistic relationship between youth and old age.
This is the type of anthology I particularly enjoy, themed and varied, each story a surprise waiting to be sprung. Indeed, the theme itself, that somewhat enigmatic settlement just off the M1, is intriguing enough for me. A thoroughly enjoyable book, then, something a little different, and immensely entertaining at all levels.
SHOIES, SHIPS AND CADAVERS edited by Ian Whates and Ian Watson
Published by NewCon Press
e-Book £3.99
Paperback £9.99
Hardback £15.99
ISBN 978-1-907069-18-5
______________________________________________________________
YUPPIEVILLE by Tony Richards

There seems to be more than a nod towards Ira Levin in Tony Richards’ novella, Yuppieville. Steve Upham’s striking and impact-ful cover art for a start, outward beauty that slowly resolves into a perfection-cloaked malevolence, highly suggestive of Stepford Wives. Inside, however, the neatly lawned avenues lead you away from that infamous small town into the even darker shadows of Rosemary’s Baby.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about plagiarism here, because Tony Richards is always fresh, crisp and original and this is a fine example of his work.
A young couple Frank and Joanne move to Youngsville and what seems to be the perfect small town, clean, full of beautiful, friendly people. But beauty is often more disturbing than ugliness. It soon becomes evident that things are…strange here. What was the purpose of the bizarre test of character carried out just after they moved in, what is the strange structure under construction in the town square? What really happened to those other newcomers who moved in shortly after our heroes…
Yuppieville is a compelling read, slim, fast-paced and blessed with the readability that defines Richards’ work. It is also edged with the sharp blade of satire which the author wields with what seems like effortless skill.
This might be an immensely entertaining fantasy, but there is a stark sub-text portrait here of the surface obsessions of our own world, the need for outward perfection, for utter conformity to set of unwritten rules that promise belonging. The whole celebrity-driven fashion culture for example, attention to detail is everything if you don’t want to be cast out into the fame wilderness. And the punishment for such lapses can be terrible, among children and adolescents it is cruelty, for the celebrity (so-called) it is a highlighted photograph of your crime on the front page of some fame-tat magazine.
The punishment in Youngsville is a lot more serious…
Witty, entertaining but disturbing, Yuppieville is a damn good read and a worthy addition to the Tony Richards canon.
YUPPIEVILLE by Tony Richards
Published by Screaming Dreams
Paperback £5.99
ISBN 10 1906652104
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Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about plagiarism here, because Tony Richards is always fresh, crisp and original and this is a fine example of his work.
A young couple Frank and Joanne move to Youngsville and what seems to be the perfect small town, clean, full of beautiful, friendly people. But beauty is often more disturbing than ugliness. It soon becomes evident that things are…strange here. What was the purpose of the bizarre test of character carried out just after they moved in, what is the strange structure under construction in the town square? What really happened to those other newcomers who moved in shortly after our heroes…
Yuppieville is a compelling read, slim, fast-paced and blessed with the readability that defines Richards’ work. It is also edged with the sharp blade of satire which the author wields with what seems like effortless skill.
This might be an immensely entertaining fantasy, but there is a stark sub-text portrait here of the surface obsessions of our own world, the need for outward perfection, for utter conformity to set of unwritten rules that promise belonging. The whole celebrity-driven fashion culture for example, attention to detail is everything if you don’t want to be cast out into the fame wilderness. And the punishment for such lapses can be terrible, among children and adolescents it is cruelty, for the celebrity (so-called) it is a highlighted photograph of your crime on the front page of some fame-tat magazine.
The punishment in Youngsville is a lot more serious…
Witty, entertaining but disturbing, Yuppieville is a damn good read and a worthy addition to the Tony Richards canon.
YUPPIEVILLE by Tony Richards
Published by Screaming Dreams
Paperback £5.99
ISBN 10 1906652104
______________________________________________________________
CATASTROPHIA Edited by Allen Ashley

One of my favourite films is Last Night , in which a group of people live out the Earth’s final day by doing the things they have always wanted to do. The nature of the apocalypse is never revealed and the film concentrates tightly on the characters and how they spent their last hours.
It is this same focus on character that pervades the Allen Ashley-edited Catastrophia anthology. All hell is breaking loose, strange cataclysmic events, bizarre and terrible disasters, but it is the people who are the focus of our attention, the man and woman in the street, the ordinary, you and me.
The apocalypses themselves are inventive, tragic, sometimes humorous, but always shattering and original. Never has the world been ended in such a variety of totally imaginative and, quite frankly, bizarre ways. I am not going to spoil anything by describing any of the stories because it is the unexpected, the question of “How is the end going to come this time?” that helps make the collection so compelling.
All the stories are of a very high quality, but for sheer outrageousness, the medal has to go to Andrew Hook for Up, which successfully combines humour with regret, all wrapped up in a healthy dose of the surreal. Douglas Thompson weighs in Gravity Wave, which is a real epic and Ian Sales conjures what must be one of everyone’s waking nightmares with In The Face of Disaster. For the dark and brooding see David Gullen’s Fade, for subtlety and nuance, Nina Allan’s The Phoney War. Adam Roberts’ Noose is drenched in inexorably approaching doom while the reader is teased by the wonderfully atmospheric and Wyndham-like Trouble With Telebrations which is by J B Harris, or possibly Tim Nickels. Wrapped around it all is Les Edwards’ cover art, which packs a visual punch and delivers just the right meld of disaster and wry humour, and conveys a sense of nostalgia for science fiction’s glory days.
There’s more, each tale original and carefully crafted, finally coming to rest in a short work by the great Brian Aldiss, perfectly placed at the end of all things.
It is not the disasters themselves that gives the book its emotional impact, a lesson that Hollywood should learn as it churns out its diet of soulless, cliché-ridden cataclysms. In the pages of Catastrophia, the special effects, the smoke and flame, are often the backdrop, the white noise, intruding into the lives and loves of the people involved. The personal, the human, is all important, the effect on mind, soul and life, because, if such a thing should happen in our lifetimes what will be our experience other than our own fear and desperate concern for those we love? And this is what resonates so strongly through Ashley’s choice of stories.
So here we have it, doomsday laid out for us in so many varied and fascinating variations that when it comes, the real apocalypse can only be an anti-climax.
CATASTROPHIA edited by Allen Ashley
Published by PS Publishing
Jacketed Hardcover £20.00
ISBN 978-1-848639-96-3