Blood Snarl By Ivor Watkins

Blood Snarl
By Ivor Watkins
1982 Signet
Paperback, 347 pages

                       

                                      Signet 1982                                                                         Futura 1982

                First published in the UK by Futura as The Bloodsnarl, this is Watkins’ first novel. Futura handled his second novel Demon in 1983 as well but it doesn’t appear to have had a US release. He was quiet until 2013 when he had an E-book released, Shadow of the Wolf. I guess the guy knows his wolves. That isn’t to say that Blood Snarl is scientifically perfect but it’s a decent animals-attack yarn that is overlong but ultimately pretty satisfying.

 

                In the near future, around 2000, in the Scottish Highlands, the Red Deer population is in danger of getting out of control. Instead of a gun cull, the ministry thought bringing in wolves would be a more natural solution. And it worked, for ten years or so. Until a deep-freeze winter that brought the deer close to the small town of Elphin which, of course, brought a pack of wolves closer. The weather got worse, trapping our cast of characters in the secluded town. Kelso, an ostracized reporter, Unthank, the scientist observing the deer and wolf populations, incestuous siblings Franklin and Penny Bakersman whose family is in oil and, later, their father, are all on the scene for hunting, working and relaxing as the situation worsens.

 

                There is plenty going on besides the horrid weather and the hungry wolves. The mainland is fighting a flu epidemic, the oil company is kissing Russian ass to get some drilling rights, a love triangle causes friction and a cast of unlikeable humans parade through the pages. Add in a pair of Russian wolf-hunters and you have a lot of possibilities for things to go wrong. As I mentioned, the book is a bit overlong and some of the turmoil is just padding but Watkins’ writing is pretty solid and with patience, the book is pretty rewarding. Of course, the women are mostly ornaments (though Penny grows up a bit as the story builds) and the men are mostly large and in charge. But we’re here for the wolves and they are great when they’re on the page. Their attacks are brutal and bloody and they leave very little left of the bodies for identification. Yum yum!

 

                Not perfect, but the book is a tight thriller that wavers between being eco-conscious and gratuitous. There is more animal on animal violence than I usually tolerate but I guess it goes with the territory. Man is still the worst animal. Signet’s Blood Snarl has a nice but uncredited painted cover.

Moon By James Herbert

Moon
By James Herbert
1987 Onyx (New English Library)
Paperback, 316 pages

                James Herbert can be great or grating, depending on your mood. Of course, his Rat books are all top shelf, but he can sometimes get into some serious overwriting and drag down the proceedings. All that said, despite a horribly flawed main character, Moon was a very satisfying read for me, as both a horror and a mystery novel.

 

                Jonathan Childes left the mainland of England three years ago to start over on a small island off the coast. He was escaping his past and supposedly freeing his wife and child from being hassled. He had been involved with helping the police find a child murderer with his psychic abilities and the press had gotten to be too much for him, so he took off. On the island, he settles into a computer teaching job at some of the local colleges and now has a young pretty girlfriend. See what I mean about flawed character? Even though he tries to ignore his psychic gift, he starts getting violent visions again, like before. He witnesses gory, ruthless killings and he knows that he has tapped into another maniac’s mind. This doesn’t bode well for him, his job at an all-girl’s college or his relationship with his girlfriend and her rich father. As his visions become clearer, he hooks up with Detective Overoy on the mainland whom he’d helped on the previous case. It’s up to the two of them and the unbelieving local police to figure it out before more deaths occur.

 

                Childes is indeed childish and pretty hard to root for. (My wife quit on the book because she didn’t like him.) He is able to grow a lot during the course of the story, but he is still self-centered and a bit smarmy. But as he figures out his own tragic past you can kind of understand it. Unwanted “gift”, horrible upbringing and a high intellect make him pretty confused. If not for Herbert’s excellent way with words, I wonder if I would have stayed with the book. I am glad I did, though.

 

                This is a tightly scripted murder mystery that unravels at a quick pace, and it made me really turn the pages to find out just what the hell was going on. A number of thrilling set pieces (a raging fire is a squirming standout) keep the excitement level going. I do have a few quibbles besides Childes’ off-putting personality. The undercurrent of sexist ogling from some of the male characters towards the females, even the young girls, and the (POSSIBLE SPOILER) exposition from the killer when at last Childes is confronted (END POSSIBLE SPOILER), but nothing ever really pulled me out of the excellent storytelling.

 

                This was Herbert’s first book to achieve hardcover status in the US and it is evidently still in print. Playing out almost like an Italian giallo film, I recommend this one with reservations. I loved it but I can see where it wouldn’t please everyone. There are some interesting words about the future of computers, too, which were less common at the time.

The Flesh Eaters By L.A. Morse

The Flesh Eaters
By L.A. Morse
1979 Warner Books
Paperback, 237 pages

                Historical novel as exploitation? Exploitation novel as history? While there may be some who think the legend of Sawney Beane was real, I’m pretty sure we can file this book under pure exploitation. Based on the legend of Sawney and his cannibal family, this book delivers so much sleaze and gore that it should jump to the top of your reading pile.

 

                Ol’ Sawney was a guy living in the 16^th century in Ediburgh Scotland who worked for an abusive master and got off during public executions. One night, after the Master rapes his own daughter, Sawney and Meg, the daughter, slaughter the Master and revel in the joy of bloodshed. The two take off into the wilderness to be together, kill together and eat the flesh of their victims together. Sawney, the new Master, likens himself to a wolf, a great hunter.

 

                “They are the hunters. They kill men to live. They live to kill men.”

 

                Finding seclusion in a deep, concealed cave on a beach, the couple breed a family of cannibal children who terrorize the countryside for decades, making disappearances commonplace in the area. So, if you’ve ever read anything about Sawney Beane, you see that Morse sticks close to the legend. It is his embellishments that makes this book the jaw-dropping sludge-fest that it is.

 

                How can I recommend a book that has so much sleaze? Graphic cannibalism, rape, incest, child abuse… nothing is skipped over. It is all so over the top that you can’t help but get a delirious kind of satisfaction reading it. Oh my… he went there! The book is not without a potent dose of humor, as well. The lazy Sherriff, who is anything but hot on the trail, provides ample comic relief to cleanse your palate from the carnal grappling and human meat preparations.

 

                This was Morse’s first novel and he followed it up with a handful of very gritty mystery novels, one of which is simply entitled Sleaze (1985). I am interested in finding them and basking in more of the gory glory of his prose. Oh, and the Warner cover of The Flesh Eaters is a painting by none other than the legendary Frank Frazetta, making the book look a lot more classy than it really is.

Wolfsbane By William W. Johnstone

Wolfsbane
By William W. Johnstone
1982 Zebra
Paperback, 268 pages

                         

                 Art by William Teason

                William Johnstone? Werewolves!?! Hell yes I want to read that! I mean, I have to space out my Johnstone reading because all of his books are pretty similar but I had never seen him address werewolves. Well, it turns out that even his werewolves are Satan-spawned demons but that’s OK. To be honest, the first 80 pages or so didn’t grab my attention and I was missing the usual Johnstone constructs like perverted sex, over the top gore and humor. But when it came (!),  it came in buckets (!!).

 

                In Ducros Parish, Louisiana, 1934, a man is put to death by the villagers for being a loup-garou. His widow, Madame Victoria Bauterre, goes back to their home 40 years later with revenge on her mind. Madame’s granddaughter, Janette Bauterre Simmons, also a widow thanks to Viet Nam, is forbidden by Madame to leave her home in Paris and visit the estate, even though they share ownership. She goes anyway, pissing off her granny, but she has to find out what this family secret is. And just what are those hideous hairy beasts roaming in the garden?

 

                What? A Johnstone book with no Viet Nam vet to save the day? Oh, he’s here, but he’s in South Carolina and he’s a drunken, fat mess named Pat. Until one day he miraculously decides to clean up. By the time Janette goes to find him (based on a photo of him with her late husband), he is a fit and mean fighting machine. And, of course, they fuck like mad upon their first meeting. But he is the chosen one and he returns to Ducros Parish with Janette, armed to the teeth, to help her find out what’s going on and kick some monster and zombie ass and protect his new lover.

 

                Yeah, after a slow beginning, the sex comes in hard and perverse. The Granny, a devil worshipper, seduces a couple of guys in stomach-churning fashion. I pictured Mom  from Futurama, all naked, wrinkled and saggy, grinding on her poor victim. I am also a fan of Johnstone’s humor and once that kicks in, you’ll either love it or hate it. I laughed out loud a number of times. Satan using baseball cliches, a Shakespeare spouting milquetoast saying motherfucker and Pat’s endless ribbing of Madame B. and Satan (who is just a voice bubbling in the bayou). You’ll be happy to know that the loup-garou are tough to kill but if you unload enough firepower into them, you can do it.

 

                As usual, Johnstone introduces too many characters to keep track of. I didn’t bother going back to see who they were, I just enjoyed the stream of conscious storytelling and the endless gore. God is mentioned plenty but Pat manages the good versus evil angle with no divine intervention. As for the titular plant, wolfsbane is mentioned once or twice but has even less to do with the story than the nursery does in Johnstone’s The Nursery (1983). This book’s first printing had a decent werewolf cover but I prefer William Teason’s skeletal artwork for the 1987 reprint even if it makes little sense to the narrative. Hell, the narrative doesn’t even make sense to the narrative! It’s a Johnstone book! Pure idiotic bliss!

Shadoweyes By Kathryn Ptacek

Shadoweyes
By Kathryn Ptacek
1984 Tor
Paperback, 314 pages

                Gila! is one of my all-time favorite books so when I found out that the book’s author Les Simons was actually Kathryn Ptacek, I decided to keep an eye out for more of her work. This is the first one that I encountered and I picked it up. While not as satisfying for me as Gila!, there is much to enjoy in this one despite a few drawbacks.

 

                Chato Del-Klinne is an Apache who gave up shaman tribal studies as a teen, gave up being a college teacher as an adult and has returned to Albuquerque, New Mexico to find himself. While killing time before an interview, he stumbles on a grisly murder scene in the mountains, people have been massacred and mutilated. He sees a shadowy presence in the bushes. Other mutilations have taken place as well. Chato also gets attacked by ball lightning while searching the hills. The only person who will believe his story about the shadowy evil is reporter Laura Rainey.

 

                Meanwhile, the city preps for a Hot Air Balloon festival where the Mayor will hand over a (stolen) Native American fetish statue to the Senator to give to the Smithsonian. Both men and the local monsignor have used the fetish to gain power. What could possibly go wrong at such a huge gathering of important people and local New Mexicans ready to have a good time? Let me introduce you to the Shadoweyes… glowing golden eyes, sharp teeth and talons in a nondescript, shadowy body with a thirst for bloody revenge. I must confess that I pictured them as a kind of McDonald’s Fry Guy Goblin, but with more teeth and vengeance. Your take might be a bit more horrific; descriptions remain… shadowy.

 

                Chato was a character in my beloved Gila! and he would also return in 1990’s Ghost Dance. They say men have trouble writing female characters but Ptacek has no problem writing men. Chato forms a relationship with Laura, they have sex, he decides she’s really not his type, he rescues a woman (from the monastery) who survived a Shadoweyes attack, fucks her in Laura’s apartment with Laura in the next room (after she survives a harrowing Shadoweyes attack) and shows no guilt. This is our hero. But putting his thinking-with-the-wrong-head aside, he is a capable protagonist who must recall his younger  days, his spiritual teachings to try to defeat the monsters. To be fair, most of the characters are quite flawed, but that is not a problem in a horror novel.

                Naturally, the Hot Air Balloon picnic is the highlight, when a balloon returns to the ground filled with Shadoweyes. Between the creatures and a massive fire as one balloon burns, there is a great deal of action. Sadly, things slow down towards the ending but it’s all worth it for an explosive climax. This was Ptacek’s first novel published under her own name. Recommended reading.

The Foundling By Frank Lauria

The Foundling
By Frank Lauria
1984 Pocket Books
Paperback, 284 pages

                Online reviews of this one are mostly harsh, but I tore through it quickly, enjoying it as I read. The thing is, as I sit here to review it two hours after finishing it, I’m having trouble remembering it. I guess it is a bit “meh” when all is said and done but I liked it while reading it, and that’s really the point of reading, is it not?

 

                Jeff and Ruth Austin have a crumbling marriage. They lost their four-year-old daughter and had a miscarriage years ago and are unable to conceive again. He is a rich jingle producer and former rock star, and she is a teacher. Money is no problem, so they agree to adopt a child. They meet 12 year old Dani, a smart, talented, beautiful and polite child. Mature beyond her years. They foster her and a trial run is set up and everything is great. The Austin's marriage is repaired, even in the bedroom. Too bad they didn’t read the 36 page prologue.

 

                Dani, great though she is, is the offspring of a prostitute and was raised by nuns. She excelled in school and was the apple of Sister Rose’s eye. The good Sister gave Dani a camera and the youngster became very adept with it. Sister Rose also caught her taking dirty pictures of her girlfriend. This made Sister Rose very confused, and she wound up killing herself. But the Austins don’t know all that. They do have to deal with Dani’s emerging womanhood, though, and things can get fiery if they’re not careful. Literally.

 

                Jeff builds a studio on his property and is coerced into recording a new album for fading rock star Eric Jordan. Not only does Dani impress everyone with her soul-capturing photos but she is a capable studio engineer and songwriter. Needless to say, all of the attention to Dani messes with her mind and things blow up and she has to drown her sorrows. Lauria has sexualized the child to such an extent that everyone seems to hit on her in one way or another. That shit is creepy, no matter how mature she is written.

 

                Another thing is how two adults in the story are absolutely aghast that Dani would have lesbian tendencies. Maybe it was crazy and wild in 1984 but in today’s world, I doubt there are many teens who wouldn’t try a few things on for size. I kind of rolled my eyes as her new Mom was in tears over her adopted daughter’s preferences. Grow up, Ruth, and take your medicine!

 

                With Carrie and Firestarter rips and look for a Charles Manson reference. And lots of nipples. So, yes. The book is good, an easy read and has a great cover (by whom, I do not know) despite the pseudo-Telecaster’s bizarre set-up. I doubt I will ever read it again, though.

Elizabeth By Jessica Hamilton

Elizabeth
By Jessica Hamilton
1978 Sphere
Paperback, 157 pages

                This is one of the most brilliantly written books that I have ever read. Every word is perfection, every paragraph a work of art. Yes, I also enjoy reading Grade-Z tripe but when I come across something like this, it is a truly magical experience. This book also goes a long way towards proving to me that I’ll always have a lot more in common with an evil 14-year-old girl than with men who are supposedly my peers.

 

                Elizabeth is fourteen and on vacation with her parents when she first sees Frances in a mirror. Frances is a long dead witch who wants Elizabeth to know of her bloodline… and her powers. After her parents die that same day (hmmm, how’d that happen), she is taken to live with her grandmother, her uncle James, his wife and child, and a tutor. Frances is there too, in the mirrors. Elizabeth’s powers grow and people who get in her way have a habit of disappearing.

 

                Jessica Hamilton is a pseudonym for Ken Greenhall, and this was his first novel. The short novel is filled with despicable characters and uncomfortable situations for the reader. As Elizabeth wields her powers, her sexuality being one of them, she puts her uncle under her spell and keeps him under her thumb with favors. None of the incestual pedophilia is spelled right out, nor is much of the violence or other sexual situations in the book, but you know it’s there. The story is told by Elizabeth in first person and her mind is complex, calm and indifferent to everyone except Frances. Her asides to the reader can be humorous or chilling, often at the same time. I guess it says something about my own disturbed mind that I felt a solid kinship with the cold and empathy-free Elizabeth throughout the narrative.

 

                An absolutely stunning piece of literature. I went back to admire some lines again and again. I wish I had the power to write something so powerful. Forget the online reviews by myopic cretins who didn’t understand it. They don’t deserve Elizabeth or Greenhall. This book is brilliant. Thanks to the good folks at Valencourt Books, it is back in print.