The Devil's Mansion

Robert Burkhardt and his wife Eve authored stories and novels in the early 20th century. Jointly, they used pseudonyms like Adam Bliss, Rob Eden, and Rex Jardin to pen mysteries and crime fiction. Originally, Robert worked as a Hollywood publicist and a newspaper columnist before becoming a full-time novelist with his wife. At least four of their novels were adapted into film adaptations in the 1930s. My only experience with the authors is The Devil's Mansion, originally published in 1931 by Walter J. Black. My version is the 1966 Paperback Library reprint, which oddly mentions nothing about the earlier publication. The cover art is by George Ziel.

In the opening chapter, a man named Rodman is driving his roadster through a violent storm in the Western Canadian Rockies. He was misdirected out of Montrose on his way to a meeting and became stranded in a ditch when his car skidded out of control. This is the perfect setup for Rodman to find an old Victorian-style mansion in the woods. 

Walking up to the front door, Rodman is met by a mute woman who urgently insists that Rodman immediately leave. But the poor weather conditions provoke Rodman to barge through the front door, a poor choice compromised by a vicious attack dog and a strange old woman wearing a live chameleon around her neck. Despite Rodman's best attempts to seek shelter for the night, the old woman and dog force Rodman back into the harsh conditions. He eventually meets up with a mechanic, and they rescue his car. Due to the damages Rodman is stuck in this weird little town for a few days. 

Switching gears, Rodman and the mechanic help a young woman named Janet. She's just been hired by the old woman to stay in the mansion as a caretaker. Rodman, based on his fears of the old woman and dog, urges Janet to return to the bus stop and forget this mansion ever existed. But she's vigilant and wants to work, so Rodman and the mechanic give her a lift to the mansion. On the way over, the mechanic informs Janet of the mysterious history of the mansion and the former resident. Apparently, a young woman went missing there a few months before Janet's arrival.

The bulk of the book takes place from the perspective of Janet. We are privy to her thoughts and actions as she adjusts to her new life in this terrible place. The old woman instructs Janet that she's now a prisoner in the home. She can never leave, an order reinforced by the killer Cujo-like hound of Hell. The mute woman helps Janet with some cautionary advice and explains that she is a prisoner as well. But who's the warden? It's hinted throughout – and the book's title – that Satan himself lives within the mansion. When Janet tries to explore – limited by the dog – she hears voices coming from various rooms, macabre piano music at night, and a woman's face peering out of an attic window.

Needless to say, The Devil's Mansion is downright spooky and unsettling. Despite its 1931 original publication, the authors take some liberties with descriptions of violent altercations in the home, possible incest, and some chilling domestic abuse that recalled the best of V.C. Andrews. For 160 pages, this novel may have been the best gothic-suspense book I've ever read. Then we receive the grand reveal from the authors, the identity of who – or what – is ruling this terrifying structure. I guess that the writers simply ran out of time, had to meet a deadline, and came up with one of the laziest, most uninspired reveals in fiction history. I couldn't believe how this book ended. For that very reason, I can't recommend reading this. Color me extremely disappointed. 

The Suffering

David Sodergren is a contemporary extreme horror author based in Scotland who has developed quite a loyal following among modern horror fiction readers. The Suffering is his 13th novel, published in 2026.

The story takes place in a remote Catholic convent in the Italian Alps around 1890 or so. The nuns live in solitude and prayer under the supervision of a strict Mother Superior. A couple of times per year, a doctor from the nearby village travels up the mountain to provide the nuns with basic medical care.

On this trip, the doctor finds a young woman in the snow near the convent and brings her inside to be nursed back to health. There’s a young sister named Ursula with a genuine interest in nursing, so she takes ownership of the amnesiac girl’s well-being.

There are some salacious chapters where the reader is treated to the secret lives of cloistered 19th-century nuns, including a hidden lesbian couple and a sister who has learned to love the Joy of Sex with a visiting doctor.

It doesn’t take long for the horror to begin in the form of a black fungal parasite infecting the nuns. The fast-spreading ailment reminded me of a classic British horror novel called The Fungus by Harry Adam Knight or The Ruins by Scott Smith. This gives way to a lot of vividly described gross-out body horror, so you may not want to read this one while eating.

The infection coincides with a blizzard, snowing the doctor in with the rapidly decaying situation involving the infected nuns. The mysterious ailment also drives the ladies completely mad and impossibly horny, allowing the author to spread his literary wings with scenes of irrational Catholic Girls Gone Wild dressed as penguins behaving like dogs in heat.

How does all this tie into the lost girl in the woods that Sister Ursula is nursing to health? Can the doctor and his secret nun lover survive this convent of carnage? What we have here is a very graphic reimagining of zombie fiction tropes. As a closed-space survival adventure story, it really worked. At no point was it actually scary, but there are plenty of stomach-turning gore set-pieces, if that’s your jam.

Whether this is your thing or not, it’s undeniable that Sodergren is a solid author who has mastered easy-to-read pulpy prose and a good instinct for propulsive plotting. The Suffering certainly isn’t going to be for everyone, but I had fun with it. 

Get the book HERE.

Resident Evil #2 - Caliban Cove

Back in 2022, I read and reviewed the first of a seven-book series of Resident Evil media tie-in paperbacks, The Umbrella Conspiracy. This series was authored by S.D. Perry and published between 1998 and 2004. I caught the trailer for the new Resident Evil film the other day and remembered how much I enjoyed reading that debut and wanted to return to the series. After reading my review of the first novel, I continued with its sequel, Caliban Cove. 

The book picks up just a few days after the events in The Umbrella Conspiracy. Essentially, this takes place between the Resident Evil and Resident Evil 2 games. However, if you are a diehard gamer, this book won't have anything to do with the alternate events that happen in Resident Evil 3: Nemesis. These books stand alone and really are a completely different “universe” than the movies or games. 

The S.T.A.R.S. team that miraculously survived the Spencer Estate is on suspension while an investigation ensues. But, as readers know, the whole operation is crooked and operated by the Umbrella Corporation, a biohazard research facility responsible for the horror. The team members are basically rogue agents now, determined to fight Umbrella on their own.

Barry Burton takes over the S.T.A.R.S. team and learns of a secret Umbrella Corporation facility in rural Maine that may be developing biohazard weaponry. Determined to retrieve evidence, Barry wants the team to fly in and handle it. The team will be led by Barry and involves protagonist Rebecca Chambers, one of the heroes of the prior novel. They are accompanied by a shadowy S.T.A.R.S. Captain named Trapp, a member of the New York team, and a few of his agents. 

Before this team-commando unit gets to Maine, there's an intense firefight in the suburbs as the heroes are targeted for execution by Umbrella's hit squad. This is one of the better gun battles I've read in an action-adventure paperback. Fans of Gold Eagle-era action will love these pages. After the fight, the team arrives on the Maine coastline to infiltrate the terrifying research station. This is where the bulk of the paperback lands.

Through various buildings, dark hallways, sinister labs, and the surrounding seaside foliage, the team investigates what's happening behind these closed doors. Along the way, there's treachery, zombie soldiers, monsters, and intrigue. Additionally, there's some strife within the team and a focus on one particular member, Karen, and her history and background with S.T.A.R.S.

In terms of a fun, over-the-top action-adventure paperback, Caliban Cove delivers grandly. It's a team-commando book brimming over with firefights and fisticuffs. Obviously, there's the survival horror aspect, but for the most part this novel really works like any 80s staple – Able Team, Phoenix Force, Hard Corps, etc. If you like that stuff, then you'll love this book as well. Pick up a copy HERE.

Salem's Child

Mississippi native Robert W. Walker is a graduate of Northwestern University. He’s been a novelist since the mid-1980s, contributing to numerous genres like crime, horror, urban fantasy, and mystery. Using his own name and pseudonyms like Geoffrey Caine, Stephen Robertson, and Glenn Hale, Walker has created and authored over a dozen series titles and numerous stand-alone works for publishers like Jove, Pinnacle, and Leisure. Our only experience with the writer was the four-book crime-fiction series Decoy, written under his Robertson pen name. Wanting a summer horror read, I chose his 1987 Leisure paperback, Salem’s Child.

The novel’s locale is Danvers, Massachusetts, historically known as Salem Village. In the opening pages, a young boy is running from a trailer and stumbles upon a field of old bones. His father ends up being electrocuted, and there’s some importance placed on these bones in relation to witches who were burned at the stake in the 1600s. The boy, whose name is Richard Carrier (let's call him Dick...Dick Carrier) grows up and begins a quest to avenge the death of these witches by targeting the descendants of the persecutors.

The narrative works like a crime-fiction mystery as Lieutenant Stephen Price, a Boston police detective, becomes the story's central investigator. He journeys to Danvers to look into a string of murders that may somehow be connected to the town. He teams with his nerdy partner and the town's quirky sheriff to flip stones and read a lot of old texts – riveting stuff. He falls in love with a woman named Amy, who is an archaeologist with a psychology background. She has her own vendetta with the town and this mysterious killer.

At 400 pages, Salem's Child plods along in this murky criminal investigation. Unlike a traditional horror paperback, the body count is fairly low, and the murders are mostly off the page. The style and presentation - slow-burn investigative mystery – failed to keep my attention. Maybe you'll have a better experience. Get the digital or audio edition HERE (re-titled as Abaddon: Salem's Child).

Scary Bastard

Have you ever watched backyard wrestling? You know, the one where normal, ordinary people – some malnourished – throw themselves through fluorescent light tubes, tables, boards, windows? These “wrestlers” tend to become five-second stars to the neighborhood crowds of ten to twenty spectators with a plethora of blood, guts, and senseless violence. It's pedestrian. It's crass. But, don't get me wrong, there's an entire televised enterprise called AEW, backed by corporate advertising and Time Warner, that competes with WWE by using paid pro-wrestling professionals to perform backyard wrestling barbarism. There's a crowd for it, no doubt.

Aron Beauregard is like a backyard wrestler. But, not really a wrestler. He's a horror writer. He writes extremely violent novels and shorts that feature disposable characters being tortured, raped, and killed. He's authored over 20 novels, including Horsefly (2026), Cemetery Camp (2023), and Playground (2022). His short story collection, Came with the Frame (2023), features a few characters that appear in his 2019 novel Ugly Bastard. I've enjoyed some – not all - of the novels by splatter-horror experts like Brian Berry and Bryan Smith. I decided to borrow a friend's trade paperback of Scary Bastard and give it a go. It was published by Maggot Press with artwork by both Anton Rosovsky and Andrly Dankovych. 

While there isn't really a protagonist, the main content of the novel features scenes involving a super-slasher Hulk thing named Edmon. In the book's beginning, Edmon is a serial killer imprisoned at a sanitarium. He doesn't speak, and reminds me of Rob Zombie's version of adult Michael Myers in the Halloween re-imagining. With the help of a serial rapist and killer, Herschel, Edmon escapes the facility and goes on a killing spree on Halloween night. That's pretty much it.

Beauregard adds copious amounts of ridiculous graphic sex, limb-tearing, skinning, decapitating, rape, animal abuse, kid deaths, and other literary atrocities that make you wonder why this guy is freely walking among civilization. It is disgusting, completely unnecessary, and thinly constructed. An author once said that if you’ve ever had sex, you can pretty much write p*** novels. I think the same thing goes here. If you've watched one flesh-tearing horror movie, you can write the torture p-word stuff just fine. The question is how depraved the reader must be to really enjoy this kind of thing. I read it, skipped quite a bit of the gore, and was left...with very little else. In my opinion, pass on this one.

Carnival of Terror

William Joseph is a New Jersey native who has authored 14 novels of horror, young-adult fantasy, and romance. I read his crime-fiction novella The Hangman's Forest in 2023 and found it enjoyable. A friend lent me her copy of Carnival of Terror, the author's 2019 independently published horror novel. Since the novel's release, Joseph has written and published two sequels, Jug's Revenge and Shilo's Curtain Call. I've always enjoyed carnival-themed novels, so I was anxious to read Carnival of Terror.

Isabella and Victor are introduced as a newly married couple enjoying a honeymoon somewhere in America's Midwest. For fun, they visit a local carnival, and Isabella has her fortune read by a mysterious old woman. After leaving the woman's tent, Isabella finds that her wedding ring has been snatched. After being refused re-entry, the two sneak into the carnival after hours. They are captured, briefly tortured, and then interviewed by the Carnival's ringleader, a man named Jug. He explains that the carnival travels around and preys on innocent people. Ultimately, they are sliced and diced for food. All of this happens in the first five chapters, consisting of Part One.

Part Two is a long history lesson as readers learn how Jug, the carnival's ringleader, rose to power from his humble beginnings as a lowly laborer. These five chapters are brutally sadistic, chronicling years of suffering and indulgence as the carnival devours its audience and hides its tracks. During this time, Jug is trained to become the new ringleader, dethroning his mentor in heinous fashion. 

Part Three is the shortest section, featuring a turn as the elderly fortune-teller attempts to escape her predicament of baiting and trapping innocent people. This spills into the book's second half, and Part Four, as Jug and his clown minions track down his estranged sister, a teen girl named Shilo. There's an excellent cat-and-mouse chase through a suburban house as three clowns attempt to kidnap Shilo. It is in these pages that Shilo's fierce determination and fighting skill prevails. But, despite her best efforts, she is captured and taken to the carnival. It is here that the book morphs from a horror-torture into a prison escape narrative as Shilo, the old woman, and a few survivors attempt to fight their jailers and escape Jug's wrath. 

Carnival of Terror isn't anything particularly new or innovative, but Joseph is a fantastic storyteller, and he adds a lot of depth and personality to his prose. By creating the various storylines, Isabella/Victor, Jug's climb, and Shilo's fight, Joseph can keep the fast pace while never sacrificing characterization. There aren't any wasted pages or chapters, and unlike a lot of modern authors, Joseph is sure to say something in every chapter. He is always moving the story along in new and exciting ways. Sure, Shilo and Jug's confrontation was inevitable, but the moving parts to get there were just so entertaining. 

I'm curious where Shilo and Jug go from here. I'll be sure to find out in the next two installments. In the meantime, get a copy of Carnival of Terror HERE.

The Drifter

Richie Tankersley Cusick  (b. 1952) has authored over 30 novels, mostly of the young adult horror and thriller genre. She was nominated for an Edgar Award from the Mystery Writers of America for Help Wanted (1993) and earned a Children's Choice Award from the International Reading Association for The Lifeguard (1989). I have several of her paperbacks, both as Point Horror and Archway. I decided to browse her bibliography for something similar to a gothic-suspense and found The Drifter, originally published as an Archway by Pocket in 1994 (cover by Mark and Stephanie Gerber). The book is now available in both digital and audio.

The traditional tropes found in gothic-suspense/romance consist of a stranger in a strange land, an inheritance, isolation, gaslighting, hints of the supernatural, and a love interest. Despite the book's cover, void of a vulnerable beauty running from the dark house, The Drifter possesses all of the classic tropes. 

Carolyn Baxter and her mother have recently inherited a spacious coastal house from a recently deceased relative. The idea is to renovate the home in an effort to create a cozy bed and breakfast. Their obstacles are money, a lack of employees, and the previous owner's stubborn housekeeper, a woman named Nora. As Carolyn begins settling into her new home, Nora reveals a sinister history about the house.

Decades ago, the home's original owner was a sea captain. He disappeared on a voyage, and his widowed wife found another lover. However, the captain eventually returned, only to be dashed to pieces on the shore's rocky coast. Days later, the lover is found murdered. Obviously, there is a campfire ghost story that the dead sea captain killed his lover in a quest for revenge. But, there may be some truth to the tale as Carolyn digs into the home's history. She teams up with several key characters that further the story's mystery.

First, Carolyn meets a local boy who seems to know a lot about the house, the prior owners, and Carolyn's inheritance. There's a love entanglement here as Carolyn fears the boy, but is swept away by his charm and good looks. Second, another man has appeared, a drifter looking for work. Carolyn is also attracted to this man as well, but he offers just as much mystery as the house itself. The old story is that the captain's wife fell in love with a drifter. Is this guy a ghost? Does he have some relation to the original owners? The third key character is a homeless woman named Molly, an eccentric townie who knows more about this strange set of circumstances and characters than anyone else. 

When Carolyn's mother is nearly killed in an “accident”, and Carolyn herself begins to discover guarded secrets within the house, she begins to suspect a murderer is prowling the hallways. Could it be one of the two guys in her life? The housekeeper? Molly? All of these suspects pile up as Carolyn learns more about the history of the captain and...of course...buried treasure.

The Drifter was engaging enough, but I became bored by the book's second half. Cusick's writing allows for the dialogue to propel the narrative, which often works if the characters have interesting backstories or life experiences. With this many young characters, there's not a great deal of life experience or memories that the author can share to add more depth and characterization. That's often my biggest issue with reading these young adult novels – the atmosphere, locales, and action scenes are written quite well, but lack a deep characterization or subtext. 

Despite those trappings, the book does offer an entertaining narrative laced with supernatural tinglings, an absorbing plot, and sparks in the dialogue that help propel the central mystery. Overall, this wasn't a regretful read. You could do much worse than The Drifter.

Get the book HERE.

The House of Whispers

Laura Purcell is a British author who has earned multiple awards for her gothic historical novels like The Silent Companions (2018), The Poison Thread (2019), and House of Splinters (2026). She's also contributed to successful anthologies like The Haunting Season and The Winter Spirits. I decided to read her 2020 horror novel, The House of Whispers, published by Penguin. It possesses all of the eerie charm I'm looking for in gothics. 

The book features multiple eras in the 19th century told through the perspectives of Hester, a servant, and Louise, the daughter of a wealthy doctor. Their experiences, separated by 40 years or more, center around a series of caves and subterranean chambers that envelop Morvoren House, an old seaside structure that conjures dark imagery of “The Old Dark House”. 

In the first segments, Hester is introduced as a troubled servant who is addicted to alcohol. She hides her secret addiction from her newest employer, a troubled old woman named Louise Pinecroft. As Hester settles into her new role as Louise's nurse, she discovers some weird rituals and safeguarding from the house's staff. Is Louise mentally insane, or is there some dark force prowling the hallways? Along with Hester's new hire orientation comes a dark secret she keeps in a trunk. Through this tucked-away treasure, readers begin learning about Hester's prior job caring for a wealthy family in a different part of England. Her firing from the role is mysterious, enhanced more by bloody clothes that Hester keeps in her trunk. This history is presented in the book's second segment.

In a somewhat confusing timeline, readers are then thrust back to Louise's experiences as a young woman living at Morvoren House. Here, her father is practicing some bizarre medical treatments on prisoners he's acquired from the local township. The prisoners, all doomed to die from various illnesses, are kept in moist caves awaiting the good doctor's medical treatments – as neanderthal as they may be. Here is when readers learn about evil pixies that live underground, waiting for the perfect time to perform an Invasion of the Body Snatchers act of creating a “pod person” to replace the captured victim. It's weird, scary, entertaining...trust me.

The House of Whispers does require a great deal of patience as the story twists and turns through these different eras. At one point, I felt very connected to Hester, and then by the book's second half, that intimacy evaporated, replaced by a newfound fascination with Louise. It blends well, albeit a bit jarring to lose that connection with the character. Overall, it's a well-developed plot rich with imagery, chills, and imagination. There aren't a lot of evil pixie stories in horror. There's magic in that.

Get The House of Whispers HERE.

Baby Dolly

Ruby Jean Jensen (1927-2010) began her writing career penning shorts in the confessional and romance pulps and magazines. Her first novels were gothics published by Paperback Library and Manor Books in the 1970s. Today, she is best remembered as a horror novelist synonymous with the 1980s and 1990s creepy kid and evil doll tropes. I read her “killer tree” book Night Thunder in 1995 and haven't revisited her work since. I decided to try a Paperbacks from Hell staple, Baby Dolly. It was published by Zebra in 1991.

Surprisingly, Baby Dolly is better than it ever has a right to be. It's a killer doll novel and does everything you want and don't want in a horror novel, mainly the deaths of a bunch of kids. Jensen doesn't hold back and keeps the body count stacked consistently through nearly 500 terrifying pages. 

The novel is presented in three books, each around 160-pages. Granted, many of the books I read and review here at PW weigh about 180-pages, so this was the equivalent of reading three novels. The first book is set in the 1910s, the second in the 1950s, and the third in the present-day of 1991. Each of these sections deals specifically with a portion of the Wilfred Family, a wealthy and esteemed establishment living in a mansion in rural Arkansas. 

In the first book, young Rose Marie and her baby are murdered by Rose's mother after becoming pregnant out of wedlock. Yet her mother doesn't use a traditional weapon or poison, but instead places an evil soul-sucking doll in the crib and bed. This doll, stored in the family's upstairs cabinet, crawls onto faces and steals...breath? Jensen never really explains the method of destruction. After Rose Marie and the baby are murdered, the family members left behind are Sybil, Rose's younger sister, and Gertrude. 

We reconnect with Sybil as an old woman in the 1950s, this time living with her son, his wife, and their two daughters. She dies, leaving Gertrude to continue keeping the doll in the family mansion. But again, crazy things happen, and the doll is dragged out to kill family members. In an evil recycle, the 1990s feature another family member, but this time incorporating neighbors and a police officer to investigate the strange happenings within the family tree and the eerie mansion.

I was fully invested in the opening book and loved learning the family history and dynamics, tying it all together. The second book began shaping up as a redo of the first, only with different family members being killed off in the same fashion. By book three, I needed a change of pace, and the author seemingly read my mind. There's a great thread here of two neighborhood girls stumbling onto the abandoned, dilapidated mansion and encountering the doll. This portion of the narrative was laced with so much atmosphere and attention to detail. The discovery of a skeleton in the upstairs bedroom introduced a separate plot involving a murder investigation and a trip down memory lane to see how these characters intertwine and change through the decades. It was a skillful, well-developed story that spread evenly throughout the novel.

Baby Dolly was just terrific. If you love spooky mansions, creepy dolls, bizarre children...you're in Heaven (or Hell?) in this old Zebra paperback? Get the vintage copy HERE or the reprint HERE.

Night Howl

Andrew Neiderman is probably best known for his 19th career novel, The Devil's Advocate, which was adapted into a film in 1997 starring Al Pacino and Keanu Reeves. He authored over 100 novels, mostly of the horror and suspense genre. We've reviewed a couple of them, Someone's Watching (1983) and Pin (1981), so I was anxious to get back to his vintage horror work. I decided to try the killer-dog formula and tracked down Night Howl, published by Pocket in 1986.

The book is set in upstate New York. A German Shepherd has escaped a secret government laboratory that specializes in biological and chemical weapons and genetic engineering. It's a catch-all for a special project providing super-intelligence to dogs. While this portion of the book is a bit cloudy, apparently, part of the genes injected into this dog came from the prison system. So, the pooch – named Phantom – is a criminal mastermind trapped in a dog's body. It's like the killer trapped in the plastic shell of the Chucky doll in those Child's Play films and shows. 

Phantom has a run-in with the Kaufmans, an ordinary family of peaceful suburbanites, while also being hunted by the government operatives. Neiderman uses varying perspectives to present the story; this includes all of the doggy thoughts of Phantom himself – food, mating, kill!

As you can tell from the tone, I really hated this book. Night Howl is nearly 300-pages of absolute nothingness. Perhaps it was a quick concept pitched to Neiderman by a Cujo-hungry agent or editor, or simply an unenthusiastic “when animals attack” idea that the author wanted his claws in. There are some interesting kills, a few effective pages of a home-invasion, and a complete location swerve as the action moves to New York City faster than you can say “Jason Takes Manhattan”. 

Oddly, Dean Koontz would use a similar idea with his 1987 novel Watchers. In that book, a Golden Retriever named Einstein gains super-intelligence and escapes from a secret government lab. The dog and its new owner are tracked by shadowy assassins and a genetically engineered monster. I'm sure there are dozens of super-pooch books, some good, some not so much. As for Night Howl...it's a snoozefest. 

If you have to own it, get it HERE.

Don't Walk Home Alone

Author Beverly Hastings was a joint pseudonym used by Carol Barkin and Elizabeth James. These writers contributed to the Point Horror brand of young adult thriller and suspense novels. In the 1980s and early 1990s. However, the two also wrote a handful of horror paperbacks for both Jove and Pocket Books. I chose Don't Walk Home Alone, originally published by Jove in 1985 in paperback. The reading experience was a bit disturbing.

Kate is working on her post-grad thesis paper for Columbia University. She's involved in a crumbling relationship with her boyfriend and searching for quiet afternoons where she can write. She reads an advertisement in a newspaper asking for home help to care for a young girl. Intrigued, Kate drives out to Edgar's Landing, a cozy, fictitious small town along the Hudson River.

Meeting with Adam, Kate learns that the job would involve caring for his niece Jessica, a seven-year old second-grader. Kate must be at Adam's large Victorian house every weekday afternoon to see that Jessica is home safely, prepare dinner, help with homework, and generally be the adult-on-duty until Adam returns home from work. Simple, right? No. The problem is that Jessica has a stalker. Thus, the disturbing events.

First, reports circulate that one of Jessica's schoolmates was abducted on his walk home. He was dragged into the forest and left tied to a tree. The police are inept at finding the culprit, so life goes on. But, in one of the most heinous things I've read in a book, the perspective switches to the stalker, only this time he's driving his car. He targets what he thinks is Jessica in the street and runs her over. Only it wasn't Jessica. The little girl dies, yet the police still seem clueless about who is attacking these students.

Kate begins receiving bizarre phone calls where an anonymous caller sings nursery rhymes to her about little girls falling into wells. During one exchange, the caller suggests that little girls are made of “nothing”. Eventually, the suspense is ratcheted up notch after notch as this stalker finds Jessica's house. 

As creepy as these sequences were, the authors counter the terror with a plodding romance thread that slowly develops between Kate and Adam. His backstory on raising Jessica, the death of her parents, and a divorce sort of muddle up the bulk of the book. I was never bored, but in my experience, I was hoping for an iron-fisted detective to enter the book to make the nab on the stalker. While that doesn't happen, the book does have a great cat-and-mouse chase as Kate and Jessica attempt to escape the clutches of the madman. 

Don't Walk Home Alone is an easy recommendation. The writing tandem reminded me of Dolores Hitchens and other mid 20th-century female writers who rely heavily on dialogue to tell the story. In fact, this novel reminded me of a recent reading of Hitchens's The Abductor, a 1962 novel recently reprinted by Stark House Press.

You can obtain a copy of Don't Walk Home Alone HERE.

The Secret Origin of Michael Myers? | Halloween Paperback Deep Dive

Halloween comes early on Paperback Warrior! In today’s video, I take a deep dive into the collectible 1979 Bantam paperback adaptation of Halloween by Richard Curtis and uncover the surprising mythology hidden inside its pages. While most fans know John Carpenter’s legendary film, this novelization adds an entirely new layer to Michael Myers’ story — including a six-page backstory that quietly influenced nearly every sequel in the franchise for the next four decades.

Join me as I compare the novel to the original film, explore the evolution of Michael Myers as a character, and examine how this overlooked paperback became one of the most fascinating pieces of Halloween history.

If you love vintage paperbacks, horror history, slasher films, and collectible movie tie-ins, this is an episode you won’t want to miss. Watch the video below or directly on YT HERE.

The Caretaker

Marcus Kliewer is a stop-motion animator who made a name for himself in 2024. His debut novel, We Used to Live Here, began as a serialized short horror story on Reddit before being compiled into a full-length book. Now, Kliewer returns with his much-anticipated novel, The Caretaker. It is available in both digital and physical editions through Simon & Schuster.

The Caretaker has an initial setup that reminds me of the gothic-suspense paperbacks of the 1960s and 1970s. A young woman is employed by a mysterious family to temporarily live in their robust house. Of course, there's an air of mystery that surrounds the dwelling, from odd instructions about the various duties involved to a prevalent threat that looms over the house's property lines. Although void of some key gothic staples, like romance, an inheritance, and closed off sections of the home, it does possess some of the components - a vulnerable woman in the clutches of a supernatural threat while in the confines of a large house in a remote area. 

 

Kliewer does an excellent job making the reader care about Macy Mullins. She and her sister were both raised by their single father. He died years ago in a car accident, and since then, Macy has played the part of responsible parent for her sister. But broke, jobless, and on the verge of eviction, Macy accepts a rather unusual job interview to temporarily house sit for a weekend. 

During the interview, which takes place at the house, the owner explains some rather odd duties involved. She also provides a VHS tape for Macy to watch on her own that provides further instructions. Initially, these orders are very odd, but completely doable. Macy leaves the interview to ponder why this simple chore pays a whopping $9K. Despite her sister's best efforts to throw up the cautionary red flags, Macy accepts the job. She doesn't realize that in doing so, she is teetering at the gates of world collapse.

The Caretaker's first half is one of the most effective things I've read in years. As various rooms are discovered, intricate details of this family are exposed, and mistakes are made, the novel comes alive with a dense, stirring tension that's unrivaled. Kliewer drapes the house and the surrounding forest with a menacing supernatural threat. But, at the same time, Macy also has this innate ability to second-guess herself, fueled by voices she hears in her head from her sister – things she knows her sister would yell and scream about in precarious situations. These conversations make it seem as though Macy AND her sister are in the house, when in reality, these are just conversations Macy is having with herself. It makes the scenes come alive in what would normally be a dull one-person narration or perspective.  

As good as The Caretaker is, the second half wasn't quite as effective. As things continued happening in the house, and these bizarre little patterns snowballed, I felt that the ending left something to be desired. The novel has tremendous support from readers and fans, but much of the criticism is pointing at the ending, which some people refer to as a “nothingburger”. I'm okay with the ending simply because I couldn't come up with anything any different. It had to end that way, and I haven't lost any sleep over it.

If you enjoy these atmospheric, tight mysteries, then The Caretaker is highly recommended. It will probably be in my Top 10 reads of 2026. 

Get the book HERE.

Solomon Kane - The Hills of the Dead

The August 1930 issue of Weird Tales featured a Robert E. Howard story titled “The Hills of the Dead”. It starred Howard's Puritan hero Solomon Kane. The story was later reprinted in Arkham House's Skull-Face and Others (1946), Donald M. Grant's Red Shadows (1968), and the Bantam paperback The Hills of the Dead (1979). The story is also included in Del Rey's The Savage Tales of Solomon Kane (2004). 

This story is an important one in the overall lore of Kane. It is this story where the character receives the juju staff (aka The Staff of Solomon), an iconic weapon used to fight the supernatural. Often, artists create artwork with Kane holding this mysterious staff. In later stories, the staff is described as having been used by Moses and King Solomon, two historical and biblical figures. This story also marks the return of N'Longa, the African shaman who appeared two years earlier in Howard's “Red Shadows”. 

As the story begins, Kane is in Africa talking with N'Longa. The shaman explains to Kane that the jungle is deadly, filled with nefarious creatures that will more than likely kill him. While it isn't named, N'Longa provides Kane a sharpened stave, which is ultimately the Staff of Solomon. As readers learned in “Red Shadows”, N'Longa can astral project his body. He advises Kane that this stave can summon N'Longa from far distances.

Kane travels deep into the jungle, rescues a girl from a lion, and then builds a shelter for the two of them in a cave. It is there that Kane and the girl are attacked by two vampires. After stabbing one into dust, Kane learns that the entire region is populated by vampires. Later, Kane summons N'Longa (in a rather contrived way), and the two use magic to summon vultures and bats to kill countless vampires. 

This story is rich with atmosphere, a frenzied second-half pace, and a satisfying, action-packed finale. This may be one of my favorites of Howard's Kane stories as it follows a horror formula built for the vampire saga – these undead creatures, bats, gloomy isolation, a storied history, and of course, an explanation on how humans can kill vampires. As I alluded to earlier, the inclusion of the gifted staff makes this an important chapter in the character's mythos, but also helps build the unique bond between N'Longa and Kane. 

“The Hills of the Dead” was adapted into comics by Marvel in Kull and the Barbarians #2-3 (Jul, Sept 1975) and The Sword of Solomon Kane #5 (May 1986). Dark Horse published an adaptation in The Saga of Solomon Kane (July 2009). 

Get The Savage Tales of Solomon Kane HERE.

Horror House

Paul Fairman (1909-1977) became the founding editor of If in 1952. He later became the editor of Amazing Stories, Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, and Fantastic. He authored several novels under his own name, as well as the pseudonyms of Ivar Jorgensen and F.W. Paul. Using the name Paulette Warren, Fairman wrote at least nine gothic paperbacks, with two of those consisting of the series titles Bitter Hill Saga and Ravenkill. I stumbled on the author's 1972 gothic titled Horror House. It was originally published by Lancer.

Terry Lawrence, a young writer living in New York, hits it big when she writes a critically-acclaimed biography. Her agent, clamoring for more exposure and work for his client, shares some good news with her over an unexpected phone call. One of America's wealthiest men, Jonah Garth, wants to employ her talents to pen his biography. He signs a contract to pay Terry $10,000. The catch is that Terry must journey to Garth House, the man's home, and interview him and his family of sons and daughters-in-law. Terry reluctantly agrees.

Garth House is in a sleepy upstate New York town that harbors the family's robust mansion and the family business – a myriad of labs and manufacturers producing various items for the federal government. Terry settles into a local hotel in town, awaiting a train that will take her to Garth House's front door. In town, she meets Deputy Bob and the two instantly fall in love. Bob shares the town's disdain for Jonah Garth, referring to him as a slave-driving monster that terrorizes his workers and competition.

Once Terry arrives at Garth House, she begins meeting the various family members, including a flamboyant beauty named Lisa, who is married to Garth's oldest son. There are two other sons, their wives, and the obligatory mansion helpers like the maids and servants. Jonah has prepared for Terry's arrival by recording several reels of tape for her to transcribe. While she's busy with dating Bob, transcribing the reels, she is approached by two mysterious men – each with their own plan to frame Jonah for his dubious misdeeds. Terry declines participation, but learns something detrimental to her safety at Garth House. Apparently, Jonah has murdered at least one man who meddled in his business affairs. Terry uses a great deal of caution when Jonah is around. But the tension and stress increase to the breaking point when Terry discovers the family's dark secret. 

Is Horror House a gothic? Yes. But does it have all of the trimmings to make it a full-fledged gothic? That's debatable. Fairman employs the same concept he used in his 1965 novel Ravenkill – placing the vulnerable beauty as a guest in a mansion as opposed to inheriting one. That's a change of pace that he apparently used frequently. 1972's Hazard House and 1967's The Nurse of Brooding Mansion are his other examples of “guest ventures”. Additionally, there's not much gaslighting, which is typically paramount to the gothic plots. It does feature other gothic mandatory elements like romance, hints of the supernatural and, of course, the “one-lighted window” cover art. I'd also add that Fairman injects one of the most overused tropes of gothic storytelling: an abandoned wing of the mansion. This is a huge part of the story.

Terry hears snarls and footsteps at night, a combination that is explained by the family as sounds made by the dog. Yet rumors abound that Jonah had a fourth son, a “monster” that lives deep inside the house's guarded walls. Fairman's intriguing narrative blends a corporate mystery, a racy love affair, the aforementioned “monster”, and eventually, murder. The book's finale includes the 'ole “daddy's dying but who's got the will” bit to add an element of surprise. I really enjoyed the characters of both Terry and Bob, and genuinely found the book to be a bit eerie in parts. 

If you love these old gothic paperbacks, then Horror House is an easy recommendation. Good luck finding a copy!

Haunted Island

Joan Lowery Nixon (1927-2003) was a celebrated novelist of juvenile fiction and mysteries. She won four Edgars and had five additional nominations. She also won the Western Writers of America's Golden Spur Award twice. All of this has me scratching my head as to why I've never read her novels before now. Breaking the ice, I chose Haunted Island as my first sampling of her writing. It was originally published as a YA Apple Paperback by Scholastic in 1987 with a gorgeous Rudy Nappi cover (Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys). 

Chris and Amy, teen siblings, are working with their Aunt Jennie to restore an old hotel in Missouri. Across the river, there's an ominous island that is strictly off-limits, partially due to the dense foliage, wildlife, and deep caves, but also because of a rumored ghost that still prowls the shoreline. Of course, Chris and Amy are fixated on this mysterious oasis and the mythology associated with the island's prior owner, a deceased farmer named Joshua Hanover. 

One evening, Chris and Amy confront a laborer upstairs in the hotel. He confesses that the island was created during a massive earthquake. Nixon allows this character introduction to flourish, introducing a long flashback scene in which the man, in first-person narration, explains how he grew up in the area and his experience working with Joshua. This is an entertaining portion of the story, complete with treasure, romance, and of course, a tragedy that fuels the ongoing mystery – does Joshua's ghost now haunt the island?

Oddly, as I was reading this, I couldn't quite understand how the man could have been alive in the 1800s to present this first-person account of life under Joshua's employment. Later, during a surprise twist, Chris and Amy learn the truth about the old man. This reveal sets up a fantastic second half in which the two teens are left stranded on the island. Admittedly, the locale of an old farmhouse at twilight on an uninhabited island was unsettling. Nixon's description of tattered curtains blowing in the wind, the old creaking sounds of the dilapidated house, and the dark recesses of the hallways and cellar were downright creepy, even for this YA novel. These two kids left on the island – a haunted island – were worth the price of admission.

Eventually, the finale becomes a bit rushed as the author had a strict 200-pages to wrap up this story. It felt a little hectic as Nixon revealed the mysterious circumstances affecting nearly 150-years of island life. But the frantic pace builds into a long chase scene as Joshua's ghost (yes, there are ghosts!) and the teens run wild through the forests and caves. The search for revenge and redemption, and the drive to survive, was a smooth blend of action and fright. Nixon's writing is superb and flexible enough to entertain all ages. This is an easy recommendation.

Get Haunted Island HERE.

Earth vs The Lava Spiders

In 2022, authors Candace Nola, Lucas Mangum, and Judith Sonnet contributed horror novellas to a trilogy series titled Earth Vs, a homage to the 1950s drive-in movie culture. Mangum's was Earth vs The Star Mummy, Sonnet's was Earth vs The Nudist Camp Freaks, and Nola's was Earth vs The Lava Spiders. The covers for all three books were created by Christy Aldridge of Grim Poppy Design. A friend let me borrow Nola's novella, which was my first experience with the series and the author. The book was published by Nola's own Uncomfortably Dark Horror and edited by both Nola and Mort Stone. 

Earth vs The Lava Spiders is set in Pine Grove, California, in 1958. Teenagers are making out in the car when they see strange lights over the bay. Soon, the landscape is glowing as fireballs erupt from the nearby mountainside. As a volcano erupts, the teens realize that the embers and lava aren't the only thing pouring from the mountain – there are also flaming spiders ready to pounce on human flesh! Then, the feast begins.

Each chapter of the book features a 1950s song title, like "Jailhouse Rock", "Blueberry Hill", and "Oh, What a Night!". Nola uses each of these early chapters to focus on one character or set of characters who are experiencing the spiders. These attacks occur in the suburbs, on the highway, at a nearby prison, and at a police station. By the sixth chapter, a story arc develops as an elderly man named Jonas escapes prison and begins a lively escape from the burning arachnids. 

Nola candidly admits on her website that Earth Vs The Lava Spiders isn't great. But, she explains, “it is a good story that is meant to be funny, wild, fast-paced, and corny.” She definitely achieves that in this 50-page novella. It is never too serious, and it hearkens back to the day when horror didn't have to say or mean anything. It's just a fun distraction from life's everyday horrors – mortgages, jobs, social angst, etc. I also borrowed Nola's book Bishop: Man vs Monster, and I am now anxious to read it too. 

Get Candace Nola's books HERE.

The House of the Nightmare

Edward Lucas White (1866-1934), who was educated at Johns Hopkins University, worked as a teacher at University School for Boys in Baltimore for nearly his entire life. While teaching, White was committed to being a writer. He authored short stories, novels, and poetry, some of which have been celebrated in countless horror and mystery anthologies. My experience with White is his beloved ghost story, “The House of the Nightmare”. It was first printed in The Thrill Book in 1919. Later, it was included in White's collection, Lukundoo and Other Stories.

This story uses the “roadside ghost” that is often affiliated with the dark traveler or dead hitchhiker shtick. We've all heard the campfire stories, or watched one of many horror films use the concept of an average person traveling a dark road and finding solace with a mysterious stranger. In some cases, the traveler will pick up a girl hitchhiking, only to later learn at a local truck stop or diner that the girl had previously died in a tragic accident and now exists as an apparition left to wander the highway for eternity. 

This idea spills into songs like Alan Jackson's (w/ Don Sampson) “Midnight in Montgomery” or David Allan Coe's “The Ride” (written by John Blayne Detterline, Jr. and Gary Gentry). The concept is often called the phantom hitchhiker, but it can be used for other occurrences, too. In White's case, it concerns a traveler meeting a young boy on a dark roadside.

The story is told in first-person by an unnamed narrator. He is traveling through the mountainous countryside when he spots an anomaly in the road. Ahead of him, he sees a large stone on the right side of the lane, yet as he gets nearer, it seems to have changed location to the left. As he struggles to understand this strange positioning, he runs off the road and into a tree. A young boy arrives and offers to assist the man, but is hesitant to shelter him.

After some back-and-forth, the man convinces the boy to allow him to sleep at his house overnight. The boy confesses that the home is messy, his mother is dead, and his father hasn't been home in months. There's very little food, and plenty of other excuses for the man to avoid this house. But he insists, and the boy welcomes him inside. The boy warns the traveler that he experiences nightmares concerning a large pig that is devouring him. That night, the man has the same nightmare and flees the house. Down the road, he learns the awful truth about the boy and the haunted house.

This was a familiar setup for me, but I still enjoyed White's storytelling. He adds a few clues throughout the short narrative about the boy and his living conditions. The cool, dark house offers plenty of eerie atmosphere, and there's a mystery about the boy's family that begs for answers. The nightmare scene was told vividly, with enough fright to warrant the character's quick departure.

I loved this story, and I often enjoy these phantom formulas. One of my favorites is an episode of the CBC radio show Nightfall. It's called “Windchill”, and it was written by David McCaughna and aired on September 19, 1980. You can listen to that audio presentation HERE.

The Haar

I really enjoyed David Sodergren's horror novel Night Shoot, but it has taken me over two years to find myself submerged in another of his books, The Haar. It was independently published by the author in 2022. The book is available in both hardcover and paperback, as well as a 7-hour Tantor Media audio narration by Mhairi Morrison. 

The novel stars an 84-year old widow named Muriel McAuley. Muriel lives in a cottage on the remote Scottish seaside. Land developers, led by an unscrupulous baron, have bought or bullied their way through the small village in a grand effort to create a golf community (side note – I despise golf). Muriel refuses to sell for any amount of money. She loves her little place, partly because she has lived so many years of her life there with her husband. He died years ago on a fishing expedition – this is important.

Often, Muriel journeys down to the rocky beach to enjoy a small watershed cave there, a place where she spent magical moments with her husband. In the opening pages of the novel, Muriel is in this place when she discovers a wounded sea creature lying on the jagged rocks. In an effort to heal the beast, she scampers back to her house and places the creature in her bathtub. Only there's a small problem with its healing...the creature doesn't just need water – it needs blood.

Soon, Muriel embarks on an emotional adventure with this strange creature residing in her bathtub. In a shocking revelation, the healed creature confesses to Muriel that it can appear as anything. It can also read her mind and cull from it her most precious memories – memories of her time with her husband. Muriel allows the creature to “become” her deceased husband, and the two cherish her memories together. Yet, Muriel knows this facade can only be temporary. The creature needs human blood in order to remain alive. 

The Haar is the best book I've read thus far in 2026. It is a combination of horror, dark fantasy, action, and romance. At a short page count of just 200 pages, Sodergren took me through different levels of emotion as Muriel experiences the ultimate reunion and is forced into some really dark decision-making. I described the book to a friend, and he immediately caught the Hellraiser comparison, but I'd also mention other influencing films like Splash, Lady in the Water, and maybe, to a lesser extent, Swamp Thing. It is a fish-out-of-water story, but it incorporates so many different aspects. It is violent, beautiful, gory, and wholly unique. 

The best compliment I can give to any book is how it made me feel afterwards. This book makes you feel something, and for that, I can't recommend it enough. You need to read this book.

Get The Haar HERE.

Fog Country

Back on Episode 67 of the Paperback Warrior Podcast, we examined the life and literary works of a mysterious female pulp writer named Allison V. Harding. No one really knows her identity. It could have been Lamont Buchanan, a woman named Jean Milligan, or really Dorothy Mcllwraith. It's a mystery that will never truly be solved. But, regardless, Harding left behind a legacy of 33 tales of terror that helped elevate Weird Tales into the stratosphere of iconic magazine horror. 

In 2020, Armchair Fiction released a compilation of 16 stories culled from the pages of Weird Tales, Allison V. Harding: The Forgotten Queen of Horror. This book includes a story titled “Fog Country”, originally published in the magazine's July 1945 issue. 

“Fog Country” is told in first-person narration by Smith - “I'm known as Smith. Just Smith.” He has arrived back to the small town of Elbow Creek after several years of living afar. Smith describes this rural place as a type of mecca where evil forces flow, forces beyond understanding. He then documents for the reader a mysterious family known as the Hobells. They reside – or did at one point – in a robust mansion on top of the hill. They were the founders of Elbow Creek, but they were met with dysfunctional personalities. 

Smith describes the night when one of the Hobells, a troubled, fighting-man named Jess, engaged in a fight with his brother Tom. Tom's wife was murdered during the fight, but charges were never filed, and the two brothers remained bitter rivals...until the fog came.

Every so often, a thick, supernatural fog creeps in from the nearby sound to engulf the town and its residents. One night, the fog came and seemingly wiped out the Hobell family, evaporating Jess and the remaining family members. As the story hits the payoff pitch, readers realize that Smith is actually Jess's brother, Tom. He's returned to town and the mansion he now owns, free and clear of any rival family members. As he settles into the house, clearing debris and old memories, the fog begins to roll in again. Only this time...there may be a figure in the fog.

Like any good horror story, “Fog Country” relies on atmosphere as the main character. The house's isolation in the high forest, near the shore, is the perfect backdrop for Smith to meet his fate. The fog, described as thick and slimy, is the menace, although it's metaphorically just the town's buried secrets regarding this oddball founding family and the blight they've left on the township. The idea that Tom killed Jess isn't mentioned on paper, but it's an ambiguous delight that often made these old horror tales better – it's all in the imagination. You can make of it what you will.

You can read “Fog Country” in the Armchair Fiction omnibus, available HERE.