This crime-horror-fantasy is set in the dark swamps of Arkansas, where evil men and an ancient creature are restless with their own dangerous desires. Miranda Crabtree, a quiet and haunted ferrywoman for a ruthless cartel, keeps her head down and avoids colliding with anyone outside of her secret found family. But when an unexpected package is delivered to her boat, a series of events are set off over the course of 48 hours, including but not limited to Slavic bathhouse demons, squished eyeballs, and vengeful house spirits.
Mariana Enriquez brings the senses alive with her descriptions of the putrescent. Her addicting stories read like freshly unearthed urban myths and legends, full of yearning, filth and witchcraft. They make me feel gross and I love them for it. Her voice demands your attention. I haven't been this excited about a book in quite some time, and I will greedily consume anything she produces in the future.
This book meets LOVECRAFT COUNTRY meets BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER. You can read this in one sitting but fair warning, you will want more.
This brilliant collection of short stories is Mariana Enriquez's English language debut. In some ways, these stories could easily fit into the horror genre, but they would be more appropriate in a category simply labeled Unsettling. The story "The Neighbor's Courtyard" still haunts my dreams, in a good way.
Weird dark stories for weird dark times.
I have experienced a lot of side-eyes glances and unwelcome critique for my love of the horror genre, the assumption being that my outlook and tastes must be base if not subterranean.Tell that to Carol J. Clover. Through thoughtful and academic lenses she looks at the slasher/horror genre as one with the potential to build empathy. This book reminds me that guilt and pleasure should never occupy the same space.
"There is no delight the equal of dread"
Clive Barker's artistic range is on full display in this toothsome collection of shorts: from haunted shrouds bent on revenge to possessed pigs, each tale is an allegory wrapped in viscera. Along with Angela Carter's 'The Bloody Chamber', 'Books of Blood' rests atop my list when it comes to short story collections. A truly bloody affair.
This slight but viciously effective novella introduces a sadomasochistic mythology that spills over with gore and poetics. The monastic creatures within are iconic for a reason: they intrigue, terrify, and titillate. But its the human characters that are the real monsters, driven by ego and selfish desire. This tale explores the line between pleasure and pain and reveals the bloody face of transcendence.
What an angry and satisfying story. Apart from creating a compelling and morally ambiguous character worthy of his own series, Lavalle serves up a rebut to the xenophobia writhing in the depths of the Lovecraft mythos. This book made me hold up foot traffic on the way to the store, demanding that I finish the heartbreaking chapter before I took another step. J'adore.
If you ever thought to yourself, “Hm. Mean Girls, but an MFA program. And, oh! Make it horror! And yeah, a dash of an unreliable narrator sounds good. And why not? Throw in an outlandish plot so brilliantly over the top you literally have NO IDEA what's going to happen next”—then yes, this is the book for you. I loved every page of the delightfully unnerving story.
Child logic and base ferality attempt to work together in this beautifully bleak fable. A group of fairies are forced to leave their previous 'home' and survive the wilderness. If you are looking for a sweet moral ribbon to tie around this tale, you wont find it. It is lost; buried in the woods amongst the maggots.