DNF, which, considering how much I like ghost stories is really saying something. Normally I can push through even if the book isn't great to get the explanation. But with this one I stopped reading right in the middle of the climax because I just could not waste another second on it.The idea is ...
I’m genuinely confused. I read Seed a couple of years ago (or whenever it came out) and I remember that I enjoyed it. I even gave it 4 stars (it was probably more of a 3 or 3.5, I was more generous then). I didn’t think it was amazing or go-down-in-history literature, but original and well writt...
I can honestly say, from the bottom of my own very sick-and-twisted horror/mystery fan heart, that this is the best and goriest black comedy I have read in ages! If Christmas means glittering red garlands and ornamented green trees, consider this novel as a gift for your loved one's with their ow...
Michael rolled the window down, allowing the sound of songbirds inside the car. He leaned out the window and inspected his busted lip in the side view mirror. It had healed enough over the last few days that the swelling and the purple color were nearly gone, but the cut was still visible—a deep ...
A square. A big fat nobody. Sitting at her desk with her head bowed and her gaze fixed on the keys of her IBM Selectric, she didn’t need to glance at the clock to know the hour had arrived. She’d been ticking away the seconds until quitting time in ...
His heart clanged in his ears, drowning out the sound of the breeze, the rustling of leaves, the chirp of crickets, the singing of starlings that seemed to multiply by the day—the nests that had been empty when he arrived now crowded by birds that didn’t seem to sleep. He ...
Getting there early would give him an extra half day of daylight, and though Aimee didn’t like the idea of Jack driving at night on his own, she was too tired to argue.The Louisiana darkness was oppressive. If the night sky had torn itself open and bled ink onto the earth, it still wouldn’t come ...
He described the vandalism inside the house and reported the Maxima as stolen. “I’m sorry, what year did you say the car was manufactured?” The 911 operator sounded unsure of herself. “Jesus Christ, it’s a 2011.” “. . . 2011,...
But the oncoming darkness made no difference; visibility was nearly zero. She could see the deck’s railing just outside the window, but beyond that, all that existed was a deluge of white. Of all the years they had lived in Denver as kids, Jane couldn’t remember ever seeing it snow this hard in t...
Mickey’s Pontiac was parked in the driveway—the kind of car the devil would drive if he walked the earth and lived in the heartland. She supposed that was appropriate; after all, Mickey Fitch was no saint. She drained her cup of coffee, ran her thumb along the rim to remove the blotch of red lips...