The Manitou By Graham Masterton

The Manitou
By Graham Masterton
1976 Pinnacle Books
Paperback, 216 pages

 

                I really wish I’d read this back when it came out as it would have turned me on to Masterton’s craziness years before I actually dove in to his work. I’m eternally grateful that I still haven’t seen the film adaptation directed by William Girdler in 1978 because there’s no way I would want to picture our narrator and main character Harry Erskine as Tony Curtis. I promise to watch the film some day but Curtis is not Erskine! Not in my mind’s eye, anyway.

 

                So, Karen Tandy has a lump on her neck and doctors, including a tumor specialist, want to remove it. Nervous, she visits phony psychic Harry Erskine the day before the operation to see if he can figure out her recurring dream. Even though he’s a fake, Erskine sees something in her dream and makes some scary discoveries. Her lump surgery doesn’t happen as it’s revealed that something is growing in her “tumor” and it’s attached to her nervous system. After a séance, things become clearer; Karen has an ancient Native American medicine man named Misquamacus growing on her neck. But of course!

 

                Yeah, this gets bonkers quickly and the reader reaps the rewards. Though X-rays have deformed our medicine man, he still grows to full size (albeit with stunted legs), stretching Karen’s skin and effectively killing her, but she still has a chance. Once he bursts out, he starts to summon demons to fuck up the hospital. With the help of modern medicine man Singing Rock, Dr. Hughes and other medical folks who buy the preposterous story (because nothing else makes sense), can Harry defeat not only Misquamacus but The Old One, an invincible demon?

 

                The Manitou is a ton of fun but don’t expect a fifty year old book to not have plenty of things to make the modern reader squirm. Native Americans are referred to as red Indians, red man, redskins and even savages, all in front of and by Native American characters. Poor Karen, just about the only female in the book, is just there to host the manitou (an Indian Spirit, by the way). If that bothers you, just don’t read it. You’ll miss great gobs of gore (people being turned inside out), cool demons, a bad-ass main monster, and some crazy imagination on the part of Masterton. This book is non-stop from page one and it’s very well written so it’s not like a William W. Johnstone kind of lunacy, but it’s just as nuts. An excellent sense of humor runs throughout too, which helps to accept the interesting but ridiculous storyline.

 

                I normally do not like stories told in the first person but Harry is an affable enough chap where I got over it. Be sure to grab the original Pinnacle edition (which can still be found at a reasonable price) so you can enjoy Ed Soyka’s excellent step-back cover art.

Feast By Graham Masterton

Feast
By Graham Masterton
1988 Pinnacle Books
Paperback, 448 pages

                Graham Masterton’s cannibal classic has a lot of fans and a lot of detractors. I consider myself a fan, though with some reservations. Masterton is, of course, an excellent writer and storyteller and keeps the narrative flowing forward at a decent tempo. There are portions of the book, however, that slow down a bit and feel like padding, especially in the middle. Some pacing problems and repetition (and dozens of annoying typos in the Pinnacle edition) get in the way of this being a perfectly enjoyable experience. And I say that with the main character being kind of a dickhead. He wasn’t a problem for me.

 

                Charlie McLean (the dickhead) is a traveling restaurant critic going through small town Connecticut with his estranged son, 15 year old Martin, trying to spend some “get to know you” time together. Charlie learns of a secret dining club called Le Reposoir and desperately wants to get into it. All of his attempts are squashed and eventually, he gives up. Until his son goes missing and he learns that Martin has joined a cult, the Célèstines (at Le Reposoir), one that believes that the way to Jesus and spirituality is self-cannibalism. The cult is well-protected legally, as the “victims” are willing participants and there is little that Charlie can do. His attempts to “rescue” Martin get him nothing but trouble. With Journalist/ instant love interest Robyn in tow, he heads to New Orleans to the Célèstines headquarters to try a different way to gain access to his son.

 

                For me, the book got a little overlong while still in Connecticut and as the story became a road trip, but once they reached the Big Easy, things really started to pick up. Charlie’s effort to join the cult by practicing their ways is an unforgettable scene that even had me squirming and the sights and sounds of the New Orleans complex are horrifying yet shown with a spirituality and calmness that makes it feel twice as bad. You see, the Célèstines think that with Martin’s offering, they will bring about the Second Coming and nothing will stop them from making this come to pass, especially not Charlie’s harassment.

 

                So we have a great story by an excellent author but perhaps the scope is too big, dragging things down a bit. There are also a lot of convenient characters in on the whole plot to capture Martin that in retrospect were very much in the right place at the right time. Still, my suspension of disbelief is very strong so I just went with the flow. While the book could have lost 100 pages and should have had an actual proof-reader, I still enjoyed this and will hold it in high regard. Bob Larkin’s step-back cover art is a thing of rare beauty and that alone is worth the high price tag that Feast often commands. That the story is good, all quibbles aside, is icing on the cake.

    In 1989, Sphere released the title as Ritual with a less exciting (but still cool) step-back cover.

The Djinn By Graham Masterton

The Djinn
By Graham Masterton
1977 Pinnacle Books
Paperback, 210 pages

                I have been aware of Graham Masterton and his dozens of horror novels for much of my life, but I had never read him. I’ve been told he is great. Well, I finally burst my Masterton cherry and I agree… yes, he is great! I went for his second novel, the one that came right after his debut and probably his most famous book, 1975’s The Manitou. This one is in keeping with that book’s idea; an ancient evil threatens folks in modern times.

 

                Harry Erskine (back from The Manitou) goes to his Godfather Max’s funeral on Cape Cod. The deceased was a collector of early Arabic artifacts and throughout his life, Harry would see some of the collection when he visited. At the funeral, he meets Anne, and they head off to dinner rather than stay and mourn around the Cape house, which has all but fallen to ruins. His Godmother Marjorie is acting strange and there are no paintings or photos left on the walls. Oh, and Max died when he cut off his own face. The mystery is made even worse by the fact that one of the treasures of the collection, an old jar from Iran (that Max likely stole) is sealed up in the turret of the old house. Guess what’s in the jar!

 

                The story is told in more or less real time, the action and unraveling of the mystery taking place over just a few days. Anne, it turns out, is there to try to get the jar and return it to the country to which it belongs. She has a nearby friend in Professor Qualt who also knows a thing or two about ancient Arabic magic and the genies, or djinns, that are thought to inhabit jars. It seems that the one in the Cape house is a famous jar containing an evil djinn that can kill you in forty ways.

 

                Never mind the fact that there are so many people that know so much about dead languages and ancient magic. This book is exciting from start to finish and the primordial evil threatening contemporary people who clearly do not understand it is exciting as hell. Some genuine chills are provided by a wispy hooded entity and when the djinn does appear, it is a roller-coaster ride to hell. Harry might be a bit of a dick, but his reactions and fear come off as very real. He tells the story in first person, a device that I normally don’t like (“hey, that means he’s gonna live!”) but it’s all good and he returns in subsequent Masterton novels.

 

                A+ for my first Masterton book. I’m looking forward to more. The cool stepback cover artwork on this one is by Ed Soyka.

Joyride By Stephen Crye

Joyride
By Stephen Crye
1983 Pinnacle Books
Paperback, 248 pages

                How do you review a book like Joyride? Do you like slasher movies? Then you will like this book. That is exactly what this is, a slasher film in book form. It hits all of the proper points, and it is a shitload of fun because of it. Brutal and unrelenting.

 

                Robert Atchinson was a high school outcast. Recently orphaned, everybody made fun of him and mentally abused him. Too bad he had such a crush on pretty, blonde Carla. One day, he would muster up the courage to give her the gift he’d bought for her, some bright red hair ribbons. But everything changed after the accident that disfigured him.

 

                Present day, a group of teens are looking to party in the cemetery. They break in and find a remote spot and do the drinking and smoking thing that all high schoolers do. The characters are cookie cutter slasher film fare; the horny ones, the sensible one, the fat one, and the younger brother who tags along. Little do any of them know that the cemetery has a caretaker names Cleats, formerly known as Robert Atchinson, and he has a serious grudge against all of them for what happened in the past. Except one, a pretty blonde who he thinks is Carla.

 

                The story takes place all in one night with flashbacks to Robert’s shitty school life. Crye gets some good atmosphere in the graveyard and the kills are gruesome and memorable. As a groundskeeper, he has many garden tools on hand and puts them to very good use. None of the characters are particularly likeable so we’re all really on Cleats’ side. BEWARE: the first chapter depicts a very gruesome and brutal murder of an innocent dog. It really has nothing to do with the story, it just shows how messed up Cleats is. It’s incredibly disturbing and if you skip right to Chapter 2, you might thank yourself for it.

 

                Is it original? No. Is it well-written? Well, it’s not poorly written. But it’s a blast, a fun page turner full of gore and mayhem. Isn’t that what we all want? Go, Cleats, GO!

 

                On Will Erickson’s brilliant Too Much Horror Fiction blog, he reviews Joyride and got a response from the author’s ex-girlfriend that is full of wonderful information. Crye is Ron Patrick, who was an editor that thought he’d try to write a book just as a goof. This was the result. Evidently, he was a handsome, partying, fun-loving dude who just did it “as a lark”. Under his real name, he also wrote Beyond the Threshold, a title that is in my TBR pile. Sadly, Patrick is now deceased.

 

                And YAY to Pinnacle Books for crediting the cover artists, Somja Lamut and Nenand Jakesovic on the Copyright page!

    Fathom Press released a nice reprint in 2026. Here is the cover:

Tortures of the Damned By Hunter Shea

Tortures of the Damned

By Hunter Shea
2015 Pinnacle
Paperback, 439 pages

 

                I like short books; 170 to 180 pages is ideal. I have the attention span of a gnat. But when Hunter Shea is the author, I don’t even balk at a 439-page book. He is one of the few authors who knows how to write an interesting and exciting page-turner. Short chapters, many of which are cliffhangers, and a breezy writing style. As I have said many times… Hunter Shea gets it.

 

                A series of explosions rock the East Coast, releasing poisonous gasses and taking out all of the electricity. It is quickly evident that the world is forever changed, and the story follows the Padillas, another close-knit family in the Shea tradition, and with their neighbors Buck and Alexiana, trying to survive Yonkers in a post-apocalyptic setting. After being forced out of Buck’s well-prepared bomb shelter (by crazed rats!), the motley crew, including the Padilla’s young children, try to make sense of the situation and get to safety… wherever that might be.

 

                For readers familiar with Shea’s crypto-zoological masterpieces… no, there are no Bigfoots (Bigfeet?) or Jersey Devils, but nature does indeed run amok in this one. The poison gasses make many species of critter go bonkers. Besides the crazed rats, we have vicious horses, alley cats, bats, and birds all making it tough for the survivors. Surviving humans are no less of a threat to the family. The body count is massive and the isolation the family feels is palpable to the reader. One touch of horrific realism- human ignorance and hate are still the most dangerous things, even in the post-Apocalypse.

 

                Some reviews have been pissy about the ending because they expected or wanted something different, but I found it perfect and satisfying. Could a sequel be in order? It doesn’t need one, but there’s definitely room for one. I will buy it if it should materialize, but if it doesn’t, I’m perfectly happy with the story as it is.

 

                One. More. Time… Hunter Shea gets it! He knows how to write an exciting and heart-wrenching horror story.

The Jersey Devil By Hunter Shea

 

The Jersey Devil
By Hunter Shea
Pinnacle Books, 2016
Paperback, 378 pages

                If I’m going to tackle a book that is 378 pages long, it has to be written by Hunter Shea. Only he can tell a story that long that will hold my intertest. No fluff, no filler; every word is essential and moves the tale along. And what a tale it is. Shea’s cryptozoological monster books are a treasure. He takes every known fact/ rumor about the mythical beasts and makes it an integral part of the story. I was prompted to research the Jersey Devil after finishing this book and yes… he nailed it. And improved on the legend.

 

                The Willet Family are a close-knit crew, and they have a history with the Devil. Ol’ Boompa, the gran’pa, had encountered it years ago and has had revenge burning in his veins ever since. With a spate of new Devil sightings, the family gets together with a shit-ton of firepower, and they head out to hunt. Naturally, they get a lot more than they bargained for.

 

                Rarely do I root for humans in a book like this, but Shea makes the Willet Family so damn likeable that you have to. The Devils, plural, yes- there are many, are formidable creatures but they aren’t infallible. But there are just so many. Throw in captive humans kept for breeding reasons, a rock concert, and innocent people stuck in a very bad place, and you have a page turner that moves very quickly and delivers the gory goods.

 

                I’ve said it before; Hunter Shea gets it. His name should always be mentioned when speaking of the greats of the genre that I love the most… nature-strikes-back. Guy N. Smith, James Herbert, Hunter Shea… he is among the elite.

Midnight Magazine

Books of Horror Facebook Page

The Montauk Monster By Hunter Shea

 

The Montauk Monster
By Hunter Shea
2014 Pinnacle Books
Paperback, 347 pages

 

I admit it. I’m stuck-up. I don’t give new things a chance. Any horror novel written after 1990 surely sucks. But while perusing the books at Savers recently, this one caught my eye. Despite being newer (2014) and twice as thick as I like to read, the back cover hype made me give it a chance. A gory monster book for $3; it was worth a shot.

Remember when the mangy, hairless raccoon carcass washed up in Montauk, NY and a new cryptozoological hero was born? Well, Shea took that sensational (if fleeting) story and fleshed it out as reality and the results are phenomenal. Indescribable monsters are flooding into Long Island and shredding everyone in sight. Where do they come from and how do you stop them?

Shea gets it. He knows how to write a nature-strikes-back/ bloody monster story and this one is right up there with the best of this beloved genre. All of my favorite tropes are present: introducing characters that are mere monster fodder, gratuitous gore and sex, snarling, unstoppable monsters and the death of characters that you thought would live. One welcome update to the model that I love so much is an ass-kicking, disabled woman; someone that Guy N. Smith would never have had the presence of mind include in a story.

After enjoying this one as much as I did, I looked up Shea’s other titles and it seems that the cryptozoology monsters are his thing. I look forward to reading more of his work, especially his Skunk Ape novel, which clocks in at well under 200 pages. The Montauk Monster runs a bit long because plenty of explanation is needed for the beasts’ existence, but it still moves quickly, and I couldn’t be happier with my $3 purchase.

This review originally appeared in Midnight Magazine #8, July 2021.

Midnight Magazine
Books of Horror Facebook Page