Walking in the dark

So who was 'the Black Wolf of the North'?

2012-03-02T09:35:00.018-08:00

A few people have asked me this question recently. It is in relation to my forthcoming Arthurian novel from Abaddon Books, DARK NORTH, published (and available from all your favourite retailers, both online and off it) on March 15th.

It was the nickname given to Sir Lucan, a Knight of the Round Table, who was also Earl of Penharrow and Steward of King Arthur's Northern March.

The image above is Lucan's official insigna, worn by he and his household either - depending on the occasion - as a crimson wolf-head on a field of black, or a black wolf-head on a field of crimson. In times of extreme peril, such as war, Lucan dispensed with the wolf-head altogether; he and his knights would then wear pure black livery, Lucan occasionally - much to the fear and disdain of the rest of Arthur's nobility - donning a heavy cloak of black wolf-fur over the top.

Sir Lucan is one of the least well-known of King Arthur’s knights, and yet he was one of the longest serving. He joined the Round Table while it was in its infancy, when he was very young. He served Arthur for many decades, and was one of the last knights standing at the battle of Camlann, in which Arthur was killed. Though it has been airbrushed out of the modern record, Hollywood and romantic novelists preferring to credit every heroic deed to Arthur’s better-known knights, the original medieval chroniclers name Lucan as the knight who carried the dying king from the final battlefield and say that he was the one who returned Excalibur to the Lady of the Lake.

Sir Lucan was the younger brother of the more famous and infinitely more esteemed Sir Bedivere. Both were born of the much beloved Countess Gundolen, though they had different fathers. Bedivere was sired by Sir Pedrawd, a Welsh baron well known for his goodly ways, while Lucan was the son of Duke Corneus, one of Uther Pendragon’s northern marcher-barons, and a much darker figure in the Arthurian mythos.

Sir Lucan was offered the butlership of Camelot at least once. The position of Butler in medieval society was far different from that we know today. In effect, it would have made him a form of under-steward, a very senior position in the hierarchy of the Royal Court. However, Lucan is so rarely mentioned in Round Table stories focussing on events at Camelot that it is generally assumed he refused the honour. No-one knows why this might have been. It has been suggested that Lucan’s barbarous upbringing might have made him feel unsuited for the sophisticated climes of the Royal Court. Certainly it’s the case that comments attributed to Lucan in the Noble Tragedie suggest that he was more content to be a soldier than an administrator.

Sir Lucan, depicted right in the embrasure of a northern cathedral, is often portrayed as a fearsome figure, a great warrior as befitted his survival through the carnage at Camlann, but also a powerful and ruthless marcher-lord in the fashion of his father. His nickname, the ‘Black Wolf of the North’, more than hints at a severe side to his character. However, both Arthur and Merlin liked Lucan a great deal, which suggests that, though Lucan had a fierce reputation, he never strayed too far from the path of righteousness. In addition, Sir Bedivere was especially fond of his half-brother; though Bedivere regarded Lucan as one of the deadliest warriors at the Round Table, his attitude to him is often that of an understanding parent with a difficult child.

What of Lucan and Trelawna? Even by the standards of the Arthurian mythos, Trelawna was regarded as an exceptional beauty; “the ultimate prize of man and rake,” as Sir Gawaine described her in one of his drunken moments, and as “the faerie child”, in the jealous words of Morgana, Arthur’s sister. Lucan was married to her for many years, and there was clearly affection between them, but it was a bond based on blood. Lucan had killed Trelawna’s father in single combat – which would be a big issue today, but was not uncommon in medieval martial society. It meant that Lucan was honour-bound to take Trelawna under his protection, which he duly did. Lucan and Trelawna were roughly the same age, and, as Merlin commented “a good match”. But as so often was proved to be the case, Merlin was no expert in matters of the heart.

Lucan’s quest is almost never referred to in the annals of the Knights of the Round Table. This is because it was deemed to be inherently ignoble, even though it ultimately proved to be one of the most difficult and challenging that any of Arthur’s knights would undertake. Lucan is in so many ways a human figure – certainly compared to the clean-cut paladins we normally associate with Camelot. His quest was based on that most common of emotions – vengeance, not the all-important chivalry. His half-brother, Bedivere, warned him beforehand that he would never be forgiven for undertaking such a task. Characteristically, Lucan ignored this wise advice, and so passed out of history and legend into rumour.

If you want to know more, I guess you'll just have to read the book.

Tales of Cotswolds terror - ready to order!

2012-02-22T11:09:00.036-08:00

It gives me great pleasure to announce that the next volume in my new series of 'regional' horror anthologies, TERROR TALES OF THE COTSWOLDS is now available to pre-order direct from its publisher, GRAY FRIAR PRESS, to be unleashed on the world next month.

Hopefully those who enjoyed the first volume in this series, TERROR TALES OF THE LAKE DISTRICT, will need no further convincing, but for those who haven't yet read that one, and for those who don't know the UK too well, this anthology will concentrate on the Cotswolds, a beautiful, serene and very rural area of south-central England, which also happens to be steeped in folklore and mythology and has a very brutal history (stretching from the Roman invasion of Britain right through to the fearsome events of the English Civil War). But hey, why don't I just shut my mouth and let the back cover blurb do the talking ...

The Cotswolds – land of green fields, manor houses and thatched-roof villages, where the screams of ancient massacres linger in the leafy woods, faeries weave sadistic spells, and pagan gods stir beneath the moonlit hills …

The flesh-eating fiend of St. John’s
The vengeful spirit of Little Lawford
The satanic murders at Meon Hill
The ghastly mutilation at Wychavon
The demon dancers of Warwick
The cannibal feast at Alvington
The twisted revenant of Stratford-upon-Avon

And many more chilling tales by Ramsey Campbell, Simon Clark, Alison Littlewood, Reggie Oliver, Joel Lane and other award-winning masters and mistresses of the macabre.

The book contains 12 works of original horror fiction set in the Cotswolds, and two classic reprints. It also features numerous anecdotal tales concerning supposedly true incidents of Cotswold terror.

In case your appetites haven’t been whetted enough, here is the full table of contents:

In the Dark And In the Quiet by Alison Littlewood
Fury From Beyond
Straw Babies by Gary McMahon
A Bizarre And Terrible Event
Charm by Reggie Oliver
The Grimmest Castle In England
Hoxlip And After by Christopher Harman
The Undead Who Wander The Wye
The Shakespeare Curse by Simon Clark
Oxford’s Black Assize
The Scouring by Thana Niveau
The Cannibal Feast
Wassailing by Steve Lockley
Bloodbath Under A Spectral Sun
The Silent Dance by Joel Lane
What Walks In Ettington Park?
Waiting For Nicky by Antonia James
The Satanic Slayings at Meon Hill
The Horror Under Warrendown by Ramsey Campbell
Worcester’s Most Odious Relic
The Lurker by Gary Fry
The Beast Of St John’s
The Cotswold Olimpicks by Simon Kurt Unsworth
God’s Dire Warning
A Taste of Honey, A Horror Of Stone by John Llewellyn Probert
Lovell’s Long Wait
Bog Man by Paul Finch

Once again, I wholeheartedly thank these authors for their efforts, not to mention Steve Upham, whose artwork adds a new dimension to any project he's connected with, and Gary Fry of Gray Friar Press, without whom none of this would have been possible. (As a footnote, the book will be also be available from most good online retailers, AMAZON UK and AMAZON US for example, in a few weeks' time).

Well, what are you all waiting for ... enjoy!

AFTER the chill horror comes the SHOCK

2012-02-13T12:52:00.001-08:00

More ebook news now for those keen to join the electronic reading revolution.

My first published collection of short stories, AFTER SHOCKS - which came out from ASH-TREE PRESS way back in 2001, and subsequently went on to win the British Fantasy Award in 2002 for 'Best Collection' - is now available on Kindle (courtesy of ASH-TREE EBOOKS), and may either be purchased at AMAZON UK or AMAZON US for the bargain basement prices of £3.92 and $6.79 respectively.

I'm absolutely delighted that AFTER SHOCKS will now live again. Partly because it's been out of print for so long - several readers have contacted me in recent times while seeking a copy, and I haven't been able to assist - but also because it neatly represents what I consider to be my first wave of supernatural and fantastical writing.

Though I was already classed as a professional writer back then, in the distant candle-lit years of the 1990s, my efforts were primarily in TV. Running parallel to this, though, was my interest in short fiction - particularly short fiction of the spooky variety - for which there were very few outlets save those in the independent press.

Titles like ALL HALLOWS, THE THIRD ALTERNATIVE, GHOSTS & SCHOLARS, KIMOTA, PEEPING TOM, TERROR TALES, NASTY PIECE OF WORK, ROADWORKS, UNREAL DREAMS, STRIX, etc - and many others too numerous to mention (all the product of literary folk whose imaginative work within the genre was matched only by their determination to keep it going despite the lack of interest shown at the time by the mass-market) comprised the main horror and fantasy magazines wherein I first honed my skills as a teller of short stories and novellas.

I owe a lot to the many editors I worked with back then, not to mention those fellow writers who followed that same route at roughly the same time (many of whom went on to have great careers of their own, of course).

I particularly owe a lot to Chris and Barbara Roden of ASH-TREE PRESS, who thought so much of my work that they voluntarily showcased it in the beautiful hardbacked tome that was the original AFTER SHOCKS. Now that they're showcasing it again in this electronic version, I owe them doubly as it may entice a whole new generation of readers.

The book contains 18 short stroies, some of them originals and some of them reprints. Its full TOC is pasted in below, but I've interrupted the list here and there to include a couple of choice extracts, which hopefully will whet people's appetites to read more.

AFTER SHOCKS

The Knock At The Cellar Door
The After Shock ... he was clad in dark, badly stained overalls and was massive of build, with huge shoulders and great forearms covered in oil and coal-dust. He was also wreathed in black smoke, which seemed to be streaming up around him, so his face was hidden, but I didn't need to see it to know that he was peering directly at me and in no friendly way ...
Devils Of Lakeland
The Magic Lantern Show
The Wolfman’s House
Eleanor’s Garden
A Night on Dragon Rock
February
Teresa’s Torment
To The Castle
The Altar
August
The Hotel On The Borderland ... beneath the visage of this feral monster, there lay another kind of fiend. One he was far more familiar with; one whose preferred hunting ground was the urban wasteland rather than the marsh, the tenements and alleyways rather than the forest; whose weapons were bombs and bullets rather than claws and teeth. Yet all that, it seemed, had changed ...
The Punch And Judy Man
September
The Dandy Dogs
Enemy Ours
The Fimbulwinter

Get hold of MEDI EVIL 1 absolutely FREE!

2012-02-11T05:52:00.001-08:00

For anyone who hasn’t yet read any of my MEDI-EVIL historical horror and fantasy trilogy, released on ebook last April, and is strongly tempted to go for it – now would be the time.

MEDI-EVIL 1 is on promotion this weekend, on Kindle. That means you can download it absolutely FREE OF CHARGE for two days: today (Saturday) and Sunday.

In case you need further temptation, MEDI-EVIL 1 contains three novellas of our turbulent past.

In the first, THE BLOOD MONTH, two Viking brothers, recently converted to Christianity, flee the vengeance of their king and take refuge with their aged uncle in a remote corner of northern Greenland. Unfortunately, they arrive during morketiden, when the midwinter sun never rises, and find a long-hall and village under siege by a terrible something, which moves faceless and silent through the darkness and the frozen mist, and one by one, is killing people in the most personal and hideous ways …

In the second, FLIBBERTIGIBBET, we travel back to the chaotic days of Elizabethan London, where guilt-stricken secret agent Robert Urmston is brought out of voluntary retirement – not to catch heretics or spies of the Spanish king – but to track down a new kind of enemy, an unknown maniac who is terrorising the teeming slums south of the River Thames with a series of ghastly, ritualistic murders, which have the potential to bring down the entire government of England …

In the third, THE GODS OF GREEN AND GREY, a young Roman officer takes a small cohort of men into the misty and unexplored swamps of eastern Britain, and there commences to build a series of bridges. Very quickly, however, he and his troop find themselves under attack – not from local tribesmen or dangerous animals, but from a family of cannibalistic ogres, who are determined to ensure that knowledge of their existence is not taken back to civilisation …

If you fancy picking up a copy of this ebook – absolutely FREE – call in at AMAZON UK or AMAZON US and download it right now. Remember, the offer runs out at the end of tomorrow (Sunday, Feb 12th).

As a mark of its quality, MEDI-EVIL 1 is currently positioned 14th in the ‘Kindle Fantasy and Historical’ section and is in the top 100 for ‘Kindle Horror’.

The Devil's work is never competely done

2012-02-02T15:27:00.000-08:00

Just time for a few unrelated bits and pieces this week, as I'll shortly be off to the SFX Weekender in Prestatyn, where I'll be sitting on a panel or two, and signing anything anyone cares to put in front of me.

First of all, we are slowly but surely moving up through the gears with our sequel to THE DEVIL’S ROCK. The above shot was taken in my living room last week, where I spent a couple of days with director Paul Campion (also pictured) as we thrashed out the final storyline for the sequel.

I can't give too much away, but as I said, there'll be more Nazis, more demons and many more grisly deaths.

The image on the right, meanwhile, accompanied a recent American review of the original film - the Wolfman writing on THE WOLFMAN COMETH - who opened his assessment in that pleasingly straight-to-the-point American way, with:

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! How can anyone, ANYONE, see this poster and not want to fucking see it? THIS LOOKS INSANE. Lady with sharp teeth. Nazis. Not much clothing. Blood. Brass knuckle/stabby knife combo thingy. The word 'DEVIL' in the title. I had to fucking see it!"

Yep, that's pretty much the kind of enthusiasm we'll be seeking to evoke with the second film. Meanwhile, in another review, Rob Morrish, columnist at legendary US horror mag, CEMETERY DANCE, has now given us his views regarding KING DEATH, and most generous he is in them.

Writing about the book on his TWILIGHT RIDGE blog, he describes the tale as "a picture-perfect period piece of historical horror set during the time of Europe’s Black Plague", adding that it is "both atmospheric and authentic, a rewarding exercise in medieval madness".

Still on the subject of KING DEATH, I've now received a copy of the cover for Paula Guran's YEAR'S BEST DARK FANTASY AND HORROR, 2012, in which it will be appearing.

Check it out left.

As I say, folks, it's just a quick one this week. However, to whet your appetites for future installments, work on TERROR TALES OF THE COTSWOLDS has progressed much more quickly than was anticipated. Definitely watch this space for forthcoming announcements on that project. And shortly before I put this post to bed, I received some very interesting news regarding my back-catalogue of ASH-TREE PRESS books - hopefully I've have more to tell you about that next time.

Pestilence of the past, plague of the future

2012-01-23T15:52:00.000-08:00

I’m very chuffed to announce that KING DEATH – my story published in stand-alone chapbook form by SPECTRAL PRESS at the end of last year – has been selected for the next edition of Paula Guran’s annual YEAR’S BEST DARK FANTASY AND HORROR anthology, to be published later in 2012 (pictured left is the 2011 volume).

There’s no point my going into any more detail about KING DEATH here as I’ve blogged about it frequently in the past, except to say that it’s a tale of real-world horror – in the form of the medieval Black Death, meeting fantastical horror – in the form of … well, if you haven’t already read the chapbook, I guess you’ll just have to read Paula’s anthology and find out for yourself, won’t you?

But I’m very pleased for various reasons over this, not least because it’s something of a feather in the cap for Simon Marshall-Jones’s SPECTRAL PRESS , the relatively new and self-styled publishing outfit, who had sufficient faith in KING DEATH to release it last December.

In fact, the YEAR’S BEST DARK FANTASY AND HORROR will be something of a double-whammy for Simon and his team this year, as another of the authors who’ll be appearing in its line-up, Angela Slatter, will also soon be writing for SPECTRAL PRESS .

It’s always nice to see people’s efforts get deserved recognition, and the efforts of guys like Simon Marshall-Jones are still the lifeblood of the horror/dark fantasy genre in my opinion. Anyway, here’s the full table of contents, from which it’s pretty plain to see that we’re in good company:

Hair by Joan Aiken
Rakshashi by Kelley Armstrong
Walls of Paper, Soft as Skin by Adam Callaway
The Lake by Tananarive Due
Tell Me I’ll See You Again by Dennis Etchison
King Death by Paul Finch
The Last Triangle by Jeffrey Ford
Near Zennor by Elizabeth Hand
Crossroads by Laura Anne Gilman
After-Words by Glen Hirshberg
Rocket Man by Stephen Graham Jones
The Maltese Unicorn by Caitlin R. Kiernan
Catastrophic Disruption of the Head by Margo Lanagan
The Bleeding Shadow by Joe R. Lansdale
Why Light? by Tanith Lee
Conservation of Shadows by Yoon Ha Lee
A Tangle of Green Men by Charles de Lint
After the Apocalypse by Maureen McHugh
Lord Dunsany’s Teapot by Naomi Novik
Mysteries of the Old Quarter by Paul Park
Vampire Lake by Norman Partridge
A Journey of Only Two Paces by Tim Powers
Four Legs in the Morning by Norman Prentiss
The Fox Maiden by Priya Sharma
Time and Tide by Alan Peter Ryan
Sun Falls by Angela Slatter
Still by Tia V. Travis
Objects in Dreams May Be Closer Than They Appear by Lisa Tuttle
The Bread We Eat in Dreams by Catherynne M. Valente
All You Can Do Is Breathe by Kaaron Warren
Josh by Gene Wolfe

And now for something completely different … from the plague-ravaged rural wastelands of 14th century England, to the rationing-ravaged urban wastelands of 1950/1960s London.

It gives me great pleasure to finally reveal that I’ve written one of the pilot-episodes for a new DR WHO spin-off series, COUNTER-MEASURES, the first four episodes of which will be released in a CD box-set from BIG FINISH this coming July.

This series is set just after the classic 7th Doctor serial REMEMBRANCE OF THE DALEKS, and concerns the formation of a special counter-intelligence group, whose job it will be to tackle strange phenomena and dangerous technology.

The elite scientific/military unit (who will actually be a forerunner of the official UNIT of a decade later) is comprised of several characters whom Who fans will instantly recognise from REMEMBRANCE, including Doctor Rachel Jensen, Group Captain Ian Gilmore and Doctor Allison Williams, all played by the same actors who portrayed them on television back in 1988: Pamela Salem, Simon Williams and Karen Gledhill.

My episode is the opening one, and is entitled THRESHOLD. It concerns ghostly activity in a Bermondsey warehouse, which leads to the disappearance of a leading scientist and the discovery of a science which should not exist.

Following this comes Matt Fitton’s ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE, an investigation into a mysterious suicide and the uncovering of a devastating new weapon; Ian Potter’s THE PELAGE PROJECT, which tells the tale of a pollution crisis, at the heart of which lies something even more sinister; and Justin Richards’s STATE OF EMERGENCY, which features intruders from another dimension and treachery in the halls of Westminster

For those who think there might be a kind of Quatermass vibe going on here, you’re essentially right. This is definitely Britain of the Cold War, a black-and-white, bombsite-strewn landscape, with fear and paranoia abounding at every level of society: reds under the bed, flying discs, nuclear power, science out of control, etc.

But above all, it’s reminiscent of early DR WHO. Think of those evocative names – Totter’s Lane, Coal Hill School – and I surely need say no more.

How will you be able to resist it?

War, death, damnation and hanging guts!

2012-01-19T01:51:00.000-08:00

I don’t get much opportunity to write short stories these days – time just doesn’t seem to allow it – so it’s always nice to be able to bring readers of this column a little bit of short story news. I was more than happy to be told this week that my festive horror story, THE CHRISTMAS TOYS, will gain its debut publication in the first SCREAMING BOOK OF HORROR (pictured left), due out next autumn from SCREAMING DREAMS PRESS.

This anthology will be the work of tireless editor Johnny Mains, who also happens to be an enthusiastic and skilled researcher in the dusty annals of this genre. I'm even prouder to be appearing in this book as, thanks to Johnny’s enviable ability to root out lost classics, I’ll be appearing alongside a previously unpublished tale by sci-fi legend John Brunner (1934 To 1995).

Here is the TOC for SCREAMING BOOK OF HORROR as it currently stands, though Johnny has advised me that it isn’t complete just yet.

One Of The Family – Bernard Taylor
Larva – John Brunner
Glory And Splendour – Alex Miles
What Shall We Do About Barker? – Reggie Oliver
Cut! – Anna Taborska
Old Grudge Ender – David A. Riley
The Christmas Toys – Paul Finch
The Quixote Candidate – Rhys Hughes
Helping Mummy – Kate Farrell
The Iron Cross – Craig Herby
The Baby Trap – Janine Wood
The Club – Sarah Brunsdon
Sometimes You Think You Are Alone – Alison Moore
The Tip Run – Johnny Mains

Back to the movie world now, and my fascination to learn that THE DEVIL’S ROCK, which will be the subject of a special feature in FANGORIA next month, was named by the TOP10LISTMOVIES website as being in the top ten war films of 2011.

I’m gratified of course, but I’m also surprised. Though set during World War Two, THE DEVIL’S ROCK is first and foremost an occult horror movie, with a strong emphasis on demonic fantasy. Possibly its realistic setting did it for the voters: the Channel Islands on the eve of D-Day, the grim bunker tunnels, the well documented Nazi quest to find and utilise unearthly weapons. Alternatively, perhaps it’s just a case that we don’t make too many straightforward war movies these days. Which is an even bigger mystery, if you ask me – because we make an awful lot of war.

On the subject of THE DEVIL’S ROCK, some rather nice new pix have come my way. The first one (right) ought to have you laughing, and maybe puking at the same time. It was taken on set during the actual shoot, and depicts make-up artist Dara Wakeley assessing Karlos Drinkwater on screen, oblivious to the dangling intestines all around her. But then it's a tough industry. You get hardened to that kind of thing.

This second shot has been inserted for more gratuitous reasons. I get an awful lot of hits on this blog from folk who are simply looking for images of Gina Varela, the ever-alluring star of the film. So here's another one, our lovely demoness accepting the accolades at the San Sebaastian International Film Festival in Spain.

The 'Black Wolf of the North' is unleashed

2012-01-12T02:39:00.000-08:00

Here at last is the finished cover art for DARK NORTH, my next novel, which is due out from Abaddon Books in March this year.

As part of the Knights Of Albion series, DARK NORTH tells the tale of Sir Lucan, the infamous ‘Black Wolf of the North’, who held King Arthur’s northern frontier against the Celtic armies of Rheged and the Pictish hordes of Alba.

Forged in battle from his earliest days, Lucan was one of the most difficult characters for Arthur to manage at his Round Table, combining knightly beliefs and skills with a vengeful nature and innate ferocity, which made him almost unstoppable on the battlefield and a dominant warlord in the wintry wilds of northern Britain. Only the constant presence of good people – his older brother, Sir Bedivere, his idealistic squire, Alaric, King Arthur himself, and more important than any of these, his beautiful wife, Trelawna – kept Lucan on the chivalrous straight and narrow. In times of peace, he became as good a lord to his tenants and as loyal a subject to his king as anyone could ask for. But in times of war, a more sinister personality would emerge.

What then could Arthur’s court expect when a war to end all wars was suddenly declared on Camelot and its allies? When an army more colossal than any previously seen in Dark Age Europe was massed across the Channel, its intent to invade Britain and wipe out every last vestige of the Arthurian renaissance?

In Le Morte d’Arthur, Thomas Malory (1405-1471) writes tantalisingly about an attempt to reconquer Britain by the newly reinvigorated Roman Empire. Few real details are given, but he hints at prolonged and torturous campaigns, epic battles and astonishing death-tolls – he describes a war comparable with modern wars in terms of the numbers involved and the destruction wreaked. He talks of Albion (pre-Saxon England) as a nation-state suddenly battling for its very existence.

This is the backdrop to DARK NORTH. This is the theatre in which the Black Wolf of the North must finally come of age as a warrior and a man – because for Lucan there will be a war within this war.

Not long before Rome’s intentions are made clear, his beloved wife, finally seeking a better life than that she has known in Lucan’s rugged castle at Penharrow, absconds with a young Roman officer. Lucan thus answers his monarch’s call to arms with angry delight. For him, the coming battle, with all its resulting slaughter and devastation, will be very, very personal … but there are other forces at work here, not least the fearsome Malconi clan, to whom Trelawna has unwittingly attached herself: a ancient Roman dynasty with the power to raise demons!

Lake District terror duo honoured in 2012

2012-01-04T15:26:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year to everyone. It seems a little while since I last posted a blog, but the usual festive frolics are always more time and energy consuming than we expect.

Anyway, what better way to start 2012 than with a bit of exciting news concerning two of our contributors to TERROR TALES OF THE LAKE DISTRICT, both of whom have had stories chosen for inclusion in Ellen Datlow’s BEST HORROR OF THE YEAR #4.

First up is Simon Bestwick (pictured left), whose actual Lake District tale, THE MORAINE, will make Ellen’s final cut, along with another story of his from last year, DERMOT, which appeared in BLACK STATIC #24.

Second up is Anna Taborska (pictured below), who wrote our grisly Lake District parable, NIGHT OF THE CRONE, though in her case the chosen story is actually the extremely savage and gruesome LITTLE PIG, which appeared in Charles Black’s excellent BLACK BOOK OF HORROR #8 last summer.

For those who haven’t read either of these collections of new and original horror fiction (and if not, why not, may I ask?), I’ll elaborate a little…

THE MORAINE tells the cautionary tale of a young couple whose relationship is failing, and yet who take an outward-bound holiday together on the Lake District fells. Inevitably, the fog comes down, but instead of trying to find a quick and sensible route to lower ground, our two hapless heroes are just too busy bickering. It isn’t long before they realise that they are lost, but then start to suspect that they aren’t as alone up there as they thought …

Despite the traditional feel, this is high concept horror from Simon, and well worthy of inclusion in any Year’s Best collection.

LITTLE PIG is far more visceral, because, let’s face it, it was written by Anna Taborska. For such a sweet girl, Anna is nothing if not a cruel blade when it comes to scary and horrible fiction. This story concerns a Polish family’s flight through a snow-bound forest as the Soviet armies sweep across their country, committing all kinds of atrocities en route. Naturally, murderous soldiers are not the only peril they face. This is Eastern Europe in the depths of winter, and all kind of unimaginable and voracious horrors lurk amid the mist and the icicles.

I’d already commissioned Anna to write for TERROR TALES OF THE LAKE DISTRICT before I’d read LITTLE PIG, but I read LITTLE PIG before she delivered her Lake District story, and I knew straight away that I’d made the right choice. Great to see that others – Ellen Datlow no less – agree.

So well done, you two … let’s hope these are the first of many successes in 2012.

More festive spirits from the icy darkness!

2011-12-20T08:14:00.000-08:00

Here is the second of the two short Christmas stories I promised to post on this blog before we finally reach the big day. This is another early one; it first appeared on a spoken-word anthology from Telstar, called HAUNTED HOUSES, back in 1996, and it was read - rather marvelously - by Peter Barkworth. Enjoy it if you can. And have a great Christmas.

THE TRUSTY SERVANT ...

It was to be Wilton’s first Christmas as clerk at the Society Chambers, and he was looking forward to it. The tall narrow building, tucked away at the bottom end of the Parish Church’s dingy rear yard, had an air of Dickens about it. It struck him on his first day there, in September, so he expected it would have an atmosphere all of its own when the icy weather arrived.

It was not that Wilton got particularly excited about Christmas. In fact, he generally spent it alone – he was unmarried and rarely, if ever, saw his parents. But it was impossible to work in the Society Chambers, with their cramped offices and tight winding stairways, not to at least get a sense of Victoriana. And when you looked down from above on the small yard, with its inscribed flagstones and row of dustbins by the church backdoor, or glanced far up to the steeple, where the old bell peeked down at you – the way Scrooge’s had done – the illusion was almost complete. Surely, Wilton thought, the first evening when he came out and found it all grey with fog or glittering in a coat of frost, the true flavour of the season would hit him. For the first time in his life he’d understand the real meaning of the winter solstice.

However, events were to conspire against this. Or so it initially seemed.

*

The first development to spoil things for Wilton was the appearance of human derelicts in the churchyard. It was not a regular occurrence, but now and then he would stand up from his accounts, stretch his arms and gaze down from the window, only to find one or two tramps drifting around like spectres. On one occasion, a heavily bearded fellow in a voluminous overcoat was staring directly up at him, wearing a hard scowl.

Wilton eventually mentioned it to his employer, Mr Dowerby, who simply shrugged and said that Skid Row men often pestered the parish priest and sometimes ended up in the yard. He didn’t think it anything to worry about. Wilton laughed and assured his boss that it wasn’t worrying him.

The next disturbance came in early November, when some sort of excavation began under the church. At first Wilton was baffled. One moment there was peace during the day, the next bedlam. He noticed that brickwork had been removed from a lower portion of the church’s rear wall, to give access to the foundations, and from that time on saw workmen going in and out – usually the same two or three. He didn’t know what they were doing, but all day long they hammered and banged down there and were always covered in dust when they emerged. Dowerby seemed to recall in passing that the parish authorities had given them written notice some time back about work in the crypt. Hadn’t anyone mentioned it to Wilton? They hadn’t – which seemed a little inconsiderate, as his office was the only one overlooking the yard and therefore the only one within earshot of it. Wilton smiled and said that it didn’t really matter.

The work in the crypt went on into December, and it soon became apparent to Wilton, with the amount of rubble the workmen brought out on a daily basis, that it would continue well into the New Year. So much for his Dickensian Christmas, he thought sourly.

*

The cold weather arrived on time, with blasts of wind and sleet. Darkness was soon falling by mid-afternoon, which, along with the debris from the excavation, left the yard a precarious place for Wilton to make his way home through. But there was no sense grumbling, he’d tell himself wearily. Doubtless it was a job that had to be done.

However, this resignation to his fate did not last. By the afternoon of December 17th, Wilton had virtually had enough. It was gray and blustery out there, and cold enough for snow, so all the windows were firmly fastened. Even then, he heard what sounded like somebody working in the yard, right under his window. He looked up from his ledger and listened to it in disbelief. It went on: the haphazard clash of steel on steel, and a violent, angry grunting, as though of a man, or men, making strenuous physical efforts. He rose to his feet and moved to the window, hoping someone would see him there and realise they’d disturbed him.

But there was nobody in the yard.

It was completely empty.

The more distant noise of the work in the crypt was still going on, but the other sounds had abruptly ceased. Wilton was surprised but pleased. He went back to his desk. Five minutes later, he heard it again. He stiffened in his chair. As before he listened to the blows of metal on metal, and brutish, breathless grunts. Suddenly it struck him that it didn’t sound like somebody working, so much as somebody fighting!

That was surely the limit! If the place was starting to attract street-gangs! This time he went only cautiously to the window. But again there was no-one. The violent sounds ceased as soon as he glanced down.

The incident occupied Wilton’s thoughts for a day or so, until something even worse happened. It was early afternoon and he was working in his office, when he heard a step on the landing beyond the door. He glanced up sharply. Dowerby and his partner were both away on business, and their secretaries were on Christmas leave, so Wilton should have been the only person in the building.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was reaching for the telephone. What happened next, however, practically paralysed him. The handle on the door to his office began to turn. But only slowly. Furtively. Wilton felt sweat break on his brow as he watched. His blood went cold.

There was a grunt on the other side of the door, as though whoever was there could not manage to open it. The handle stopped turning and there was a brief silence. Then, the wooden panelling of the door began to creak from some weight being applied to it. Wilton’s spine was literally crawling. He found his fingers fumbling with the dial on the telephone. For ludicrous seconds, he couldn’t remember the emergency code. Then the intruder seemed to move away.

Wilton listened to soft but heavy feet, as they padded up the next flight of stairs.

He stood up, his heart pounding. The whole demeanor of whoever this person was gave him away as a burglar. The outer doors to the Society Chambers were not locked during the day, but a visit like this was not bona fide. Wilton didn’t know what valuables Dowerby and his partner kept in their offices upstairs, but the intruder was clearly on his way to find out. Without hesitation, Wilton called the police. They said they would send someone immediately, but minutes seem to pass and eventually Wilton began to fear that the burglar would leave the premises before they arrived, or even worse try to get into his office again. It was now very quiet upstairs. Wilton strained his ear as he listened against his door. It occurred to him that he was behaving in a rather cowardly fashion. This might be the thing for a young female secretary to do – call for help and then hide. But would he, as a male, not at least be expected to make some approach to the intruder? What would his employers think if he just let the villain walk away again before the police even arrived?

After a minute of agonised indecision, he stuck his head out through the door.

The landing was deserted. That was to be expected, whoever it was having gone upstairs. Wilton followed stealthily, praying for the sound of an approaching siren. At the top of the next flight, there was still no sign of anybody, but the door to Dowerby’s office stood ajar. It could have been left that way, but it seemed unlikely.

Swallowing hard, Wilton advanced towards it. When he pushed it, it swung open. He entered. There was nobody in there. Wilton was now baffled. He had heard somebody coming up here, hadn’t he? He turned to leave – and found his way barred by a hulking man with mad, staring eyes and a gross beard filled with crawling lice.

Wilton gave a piercing shriek and staggered backwards.

It was the man from the yard who Wilton had seen glaring up, though now he seemed more confused than dangerous. He swayed where he stood, looking around in a drunken daze, his ragged coat giving off a foul stench.

Eventually the police arrived and hustled him away.

Wilton, who had locked himself into his employer’s office, had been in a state of near-collapse by then, but the officers told him it was all a misunderstanding. The tramp had been looking for the parish priest. He’d simply lost his way and hadn’t meant any harm.

They were grinning cheerfully as they told him this. In fact, they were almost too cheerful – as though they were about to burst out laughing. In fact they did, the moment they left the building. Wilton stared at the door over his handkerchief, listening to their raucous, hysterical laughter as it echoed from wall to wall in the narrow yard.

On his way home that night, as he walked round the front of the church, Wilton saw the parish priest at the presbytery door, talking to several more derelicts. He was a balding, round-faced man with tufts of brown hair behind his ears. The tramps kept touching their caps to him as he gave out alms. Wilton snorted loudly. This was obviously the source of the problem: more misplaced Christian sentiment!

*

That night he endured a painful dream.

In it, his bed was full of gritty sand and some hot, thick fluid. He was grovelling in it, in agony, and from somewhere in the distance a series of screams came at him, one after another in succession, as though each one was in response to a separate blow. When Wilton finally woke, he felt sick, and, absurdly, even more hostile towards the parish priest and his homeless congregation.

The next afternoon there was another disturbance from the yard, but this was of a different sort. Wilton was making himself some coffee when he heard a wild shouting from below. He moved to the window and saw one of the tramps being attacked by a dog. Wilton gazed down briefly, then went back to the kettle, finished off his drink and brought it back to the window to watch.

It wasn’t any of the tramps he recognised, but the dog – a big black Alsatian – was dragging the man round, first of all by his rags, then by his flesh. The old wretch’s terrified screams grew weaker and weaker as the brute hauled him back and forth across the yard, slashing and tearing at him relentlessly.

Wilton felt his first tremor of excitement. He downed his coffee in one. It scorched his throat, but he ignored it. A minute later he was egging the dog on: at first under his breath, but soon at the top of his voice, shouting out in a frenzy of delight. He had never seen a dog attack a man in that kind of berserk rage before – it was surely unnatural, but he admired and loved the Alsatian all the more because of it.

An hour later, as he stood by his window, watching policemen talk with the parish priest – who’d gone white with shock – he felt mildly guilty. But as the undertakers loaded the body-bag into their van, he decided that it was all the priest’s fault for encouraging the low-lives to come round there in the first place. Why should he be upset? He hoped it would be a salutary lesson to them all.

However, at five o’clock that evening, when he was due to go home, Wilton began to wonder what had happened to the dog. He glanced warily out of the door into the yard. Surely he would hear it snuffling about in the dark if it was still out there? Eventually he stepped out and walked quickly towards the yard-gate – when another sound stopped him. It came from the crypt. Wilton looked over towards it. Scaffolding surrounded the crypt entrance, and plastic sheeting had been tacked over it, but he could still hear something going on in there. He went cautiously over and listened.

It was a dull, repetitive boom – emitting from deep inside. Yet he knew he had seen the workmen leave earlier. He drew back the plastic sheeting. Dense blackness filled the cavity but the sound continued, now more defined. It was a steady and repeated blow – like a hammer on an anvil; an echoing clunk, falling over and over again. It was far inside and must have been deafening at its source.

Wilton retreated slowly, his neck clammy with sweat. The plastic sheeting rustled back into place. The noise continued unabated; in fact it seemed to get louder. Quickly, he turned to walk away – but almost collided with a figure standing directly behind him. The moon shone down onto a hideous, decayed face. It had dull idiot eyes and a gross, lice-infested beard.

The tramp was simply standing there, as bewildered as before. But this time Wilton didn’t cower away. He suddenly longed to bash those lifSeless features into pulp. He looked around for a weapon: a tool, a hunk of rock, anything. There was nothing there, so he turned angrily back to the tramp, fists clenched.

“You’re in the wrong place again, God damn you!” he shouted. “Get the hell away from here, before you infect us all!”

The tramp backed away, eyes wild with fright. Wilton stalked after him. Finally, the tramp turned and blundered clumsily off into the night. Wilton watched him go, feeling pleased with himself, but also puzzled. Never before had he felt so ready for a fight.

Then he realised that down in the crypt the heavy blows had ceased, as if whoever had been causing them had paused to listen.

Unnerved, Wilton hurried in the direction of home.

*

He did not sleep well that night, beset by images of red-rimmed eyes gazing at him from a place of deep darkness. Ordinarily, such a dream might have terrified him. For some reason, this one didn’t. He was not in his own bedroom for one thing, but in some damp, cold place which reeked of blood. And the eyes, though awesome to behold, were not threatening. They simply watched him.

*

The next day was Christmas Eve and the town was alive with the festive spirit. The markets and malls – already long decked in evergreens – were now thronging with happy shoppers, the squares playing host to brass bands, the street-corners to roast chestnut and baked-potato vendors. During the morning, a frozen mist came down.

Despite all this, Wilton was at his desk in a grumpy mood – and he couldn’t explain why; especially as Dowerby had been in first thing, wished him the best for the season and told him to knock off at lunchtime. It was a token gesture, of course. It would be the same everywhere. Shortly before eleven, for example, Wilton saw the workmen from the crypt making their way eagerly to the pub across the road, shouting and laughing. Their working day was clearly over.

It was odd but, despite all the disturbance they’d caused him, only then did he begin to wonder what they’d been doing beneath the church. The thought was still with him when he came out into the yard at one o’clock, so he plunged his hands into his overcoat pockets and walked over to the crypt entrance. He stood there warily, his breath smoking, and then drew back the plastic cover. A moment later he was actually inside, stooping as he made his way down a low passage. He noticed that, instead of loose rubble and dirt, the walls and ceiling down here were constructed of smooth stone blocks – he began to wonder how old the church was.

But there were no obvious answers to be found in the crypt. He entered it by ducking under yet more scaffolding. Faint shafts of light came down through the floorboards above, so he could see more than he’d expected, but he still found it a damp hole. The ground was of hard flat rock, while more ancient brickwork rose up at the sides, but only in fragments. Tools of every description were littered all over the place, and the air was thick with dust. At the far end, Wilton saw that two heavy timber beams had fallen down from above, and now lay across each other, barring any further progress.

He looked briefly around, then blundered back up the passage – to find the yard in darkness!

He was numbed with shock.

How long had he been down there?

Surely only minutes?

Was there an eclipse, or something?

Petrified, Wilton hurried through the gate and up alongside the church to the main road. Across it, multi-coloured lights shimmered from the pub. He could hear music and laughter. Suddenly he felt the world swimming around him. He leaned out for support and came up hard against the church wall. Seconds seeped past. All he could hear was the beating of his own heart.

Then somebody asked him if he was alright.

He looked up and found the parish priest there, an expression of genuine concern on his face. Wilton pointed back towards the gate. “The crypt, father,” he whispered. “I think it’s come from the crypt.” The priest looked bewildered. “I’ll show you,” Wilton stammered. “Please ...”

The priest seemed puzzled but nodded, and they went down there together. It looked as it had before, only much colder and darker. But now that he had the clergyman with him, Wilton realised there was nothing to be afraid of. He must have fallen asleep when he’d come down here previously. What other explanation was there?

*

Later, Wilton called in at the pub. He’d never been in there before, but now seemed like a good time. It was called The Trusty Servant, and it was a grand old place of white plaster and polished woodwork.

With it being Christmas Eve, it was full to bursting. But that didn’t stop Wilton. In fact, he had himself a rare old time. It was stifling in there, filled with cigarette smoke and lit with lurid red lights. Famous Christmas hits belted out from the juke-box and everyone was dancing wildly, Wilton among them. For the first time in his life, he began to really celebrate, pouring beer down his throat, stripping off his tie and jacket.

He didn’t know the crowd in there, but they were a lively bunch. He recognised one or two faces – the workmen from the crypt, Dowerby’s secretary – but there seemed to be a lot of foreigners in as well. Everywhere he looked, he saw swarthy, sun-burned faces: on the far side of the bar; peering at him over other people’s shoulders. The drink still flowed though, the music thumped.

It was by far the most exciting Christmas Eve Wilton could ever remember. Close on midnight he found himself ordering yet another drink and now talking to one of the workmen, a short, tubby man with a ginger beard and friendly face. Wilton introduced himself and asked what they were working on under the church.

The workman, who actually wasn’t a real workman but an archaeologist from the university, gave it some thought. “It’s all pretty intriguing, really. We reckon we’re looking at a Roman temple. Funny how one religious site always seems to get placed on top of another.”

Wilton bought the man a drink. He was fascinated. “What sort of temple?”

“We reckon to Saturn,” the archaeologist said. “Very dark and mysterious figure in Roman mythology. Quite appropriate, though … his feast was December 17th to December 24th. Ended on Christmas Eve.” He chuckled. “Pretty wild around here in those days, I can tell you.”

“What did they do?” Wilton asked.

The archaeologist shrugged. “Usual stuff. Gladiatorial contests ... man against man, man against beast. All that. Up until the last day, when they celebrated with a human sacrifice.”

“Sounds gruesome,” Wilton said.

The archaeologist agreed. “It was. We reckon it was by crucifixion.”

Wilton nodded. That would be right. He thought about the cross-beams in the crypt, now heavily laden. Good job it was so deep underground. Otherwise the hammering might have disturbed someone.

*

He stepped outside the pub on the stroke of midnight.

The air was now clear and ice-cold. Across the road, he saw one or two tramps wandering about on the church forecourt, perplexed and hugging themselves in their rags. Wilton watched for a moment, then crossed over to them. He’d give them all his change, he decided. It was the least he could do on Christmas Morning.

Horror is (or will be) bursting out all over!

2011-12-20T05:47:00.000-08:00

With the weather outside frightful it’s perhaps a pleasing thought to look ahead to the spring, in particular Easter-tide, when the sun will be up, the new leaves will be out and a sense of rebirth will invigorate us all.

What better time could we have chosen for the launch of the second volume in our series of TERROR TALES anthologies?

TERROR TALES OF THE LAKE DISTRICT, my first anthology as editor, was published last October and has now been a huge success – not just for me, but for Gray Friar Press, who I can’t thank enough for having sufficient faith to take it on board in the first place.

It was always my plan to turn this into a whole series of books if I possibly could, and as the autumn months rolled by I dropped lots of mischievous hints on this blog about where the second collection would be set. I knew one thing – I wanted somewhere with the same mysterious atmosphere, colourful history and esoteric aura as the Lake District, but also somewhere that was markedly different.

There were plenty of contenders, but in the end, thinking of the summer months that will stretch ahead of us when this next book is published, picturing sleepy, thatch-roofed hamlets, leafy lanes, rolling hills and a patchwork farmland all basking under a blue sky and mellow sun, a decision was reached with almost indecent haste.

So I can now officially announce that the second volume in our series will be TERROR TALES OF THE COTSWOLDS.

For those who aren’t familiar with that district, it is a handsome swathe of south-central England, lying between Warwick in the north and Bristol in the south, Oxford in the east and Gloucester in the west. It is classified as an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, and is famous for its pretty villages, its many ancient monuments and its unique golden-yellow ‘Cotswold stone’. It is also steeped in the major events of English history, and has more than a whiff of the arcane. You won’t believe some of the eerie folklore to emerge from this picturesque region.

But don’t rush off to try and place your orders just yet. We aren’t quite ready. Just keep watching this space for further announcements, and look out for a reproduction of the amazing cover art – which I’ve already seen and have been blown away by – and a Table of Contents that would make any horror editor jealous.

Just to set the scene, pictured at the top is a panoramic view of the Cotswolds at their most scenic (thanks to W.Lloyd MacKenzie). Lower down is the famous Green Man of Worcester Cathedral in the heart of the Cotswolds, which offers sure proof that there are darker than normal undercurrents in this tranquil realm.

But all that is for next year, of course.

In the meantime we still have Christmas to get through, and there can't have been many better ways to commence the final week of work before the festivities commence than by having my attention drawn to two excellent reviews of SPARROWHAWK, my Christmas novella of last year which, thus far, seems to be attracting at least as much attention this year (now available on Kindle HERE).

The first review comes from Geoff Nelder of SCIENCE42FICTION.

I’m not going to print it all out here – you can always pop over there and have a look if you wish, but here are a couple of choice comments:

Four aspects of Paul Finch’s novella drew me in: authenticity of geography and history; the exquisite writing style; personal coincidences; and most of all the grim storyline fascination of apparitional ghouls from the past, and the satisfaction of finally solving the puzzle ...

This novella is unmissable for any aficionado of ghost, horror, and historical fiction ...

Yep, I’m blushing … but not to the extent that I’m self-conscious about drawing your attention to it, or to the next review, which comes from Gef Fox of WAG THE FOX. Once again, if you wish to read it in full, get on over there. But here are a few extracts which left me feeling rather proud:

In a modest 130-or-so pages, Paul builds a rich and memorable story of a tormented man whose torment has not nearly reached its end. London is captured expertly, warts and all, in this story, and the dialogue between John Sparrowhawk and Miss Evangeline is magnetic …

I'm a guy who continues to struggle with appreciating historical fiction, at least the kind that steeps itself in the language of the time … Paul Finch, on the other hand, offers a style of writing that harkens to that time but offers enough of a contemporary feel to make a schlub like me get immersed in the story with little effort ...

Nice, I think. And very timely for sure.

Still on the subject to Christmas, pop back a little later this week, because in a day or so I’ll be posting another of my older Christmas stories to hopefully get folk in the mood for the holiday season fast looming.

Time to relax with the spirits of Christmas

2011-12-14T02:44:00.000-08:00

As promised a week or so ago, here's the first of two of my short Christmas tales to get you all in the mood for the festivities ahead. This is quite an early one actually; it was originally published back in December 1998 in UNREAL DREAMS #5. The next will follow in a few days.

SNOW JOKE ...

Jimmy was sorry. It had only been meant as a joke, he kept telling himself.

He was not a vindictive lad and it was only when he had first completed the spell and found that he didn’t know how to reverse it that he realised he didn’t really hate Dad and certainly didn’t want him ‘despatched by the conjuration of deviles’ – as it had said in Charlotte’s dusty old book.

After all, the events of that morning had not been so unusual. The car had been deeply snowed-in, which happened quite a lot at this time of year. Mum had been irritated because Jimmy was starting to get under her feet, which also usually happened around this time of year. And Dad had been late getting up and even later for work, which happened quite a lot at all times of the year. The result had been the same as usual: Dad red-faced and shouting at everyone before he drove off in a huff, Mum commencing her daily routine of housework with tear-filled eyes. And in the middle of it all the Christmas tree, covered in tinsel and fairy lights, but looking very, very phony. It was on the spur of that desolate moment that Jimmy had decided it was all Dad’s fault and that he was going to do something about it.

On reflection, he now realised that this had been a very silly reaction to a brief moment of sadness in the general joy and excitement that was the Christmas holidays, and it should certainly not have sent him upstairs to his sister’s bedroom and the pile of mysterious books in her bottom drawer. Charlotte wasn’t coming home this Christmas. She spent most of her time at a place called the LSE, but now apparently, was somewhere called Katmandu and had recently written to her parents, saying that she considered the yuletide feast a corrupt, western opiate and no longer had any time for it.

Mum had cried and Dad had gone mad, storming around the house shouting something about ‘the weed’ finally getting to ‘her great, stupid, empty head!’ Jimmy hadn’t got cross with Dad on that occasion because both he and Mum, for once, had seemed to be in agreement on it. But it didn’t make any difference: Charlotte was still away for Christmas and would see them some time in the New Year. Once Jimmy had got used to the idea, it hadn’t bothered him too much because it meant that he could spend the first few days of his school holidays digging around among the various odds and ends in her room.

That was when he’d found the Tome Of Lore.

The treasure trove of odd-smelling bric-a-brac in Charlotte’s room, stuffed under her bed, littering her desk and dressing table, had proved a novel distraction at first, but not as much as this particular book, which as well as being full of mucky drawings, also had gross but neat pictures of goats’ heads on tables, half-men-half-monster things, people on crosses upside-down, and animals with unreadable names scrawled underneath them. Jimmy was a bright lad and it hadn’t taken him long to work out what it was all about. He vaguely remembered Dad once having a row with Charlotte over the ‘voodoo crap’ he’d found on the toilet shelf when he’d been looking for his football yearbook.

The thing was, Jimmy hadn’t believed that any of it was for real – not until soon after lunch, when he’d gone out into the back garden again and found the snowman missing.

At first he’d wandered round and round the garden in a daze, wondering if someone might have knocked it down. It was not as if it was easy to lose: five feet tall and with huge chunks of stone for eyes and buttons. Then the thought had struck him that it might have melted, though the snow was still deep and crisp, the sky an opaque gray, and the air cold enough to freeze your finger to ice if you licked it and held it up. He’d also wondered if somebody might have pinched it, but when he’d looked over both fences into the next door gardens there was no sign of it. He wasn’t even sure if it was possible to steal a snowman anyway, so he hadn’t followed that line of thought for too long.

Only then had it begun to dawn on him that maybe the spell had worked. It had been very simple. All he’d been required to do, according to the book, was ‘constructe a mannequin from natural thinges’. The picture in the book had shown a clay doll, but Jimmy didn’t have any clay. He still had some Plasticine from when he’d been a really little kid, but he wasn’t sure if that was natural or not. Later on in the morning, when his mum had finally had it up to her back teeth with him and ordered him out to build a snowman or something, this new thought had come. As he’d put his bobcap and gloves on, he’d asked her if snow was natural stuff. Distracted, she’d said that it was pretty natural.

So that was that then. There’d been other bits that were slightly more complicated though. For one thing you had to get hold of some clothes of the person you hated, and some of their hair and blood, and put it all on the mannequin. The first bit hadn’t been too bad: Jimmy had got Dad’s Bolton Wanderers scarf out of the closet in the hall, and wound it round the snowman’s neck. The hair and blood had been tougher, but he’d sneaked up to the bathroom and examined one of the razors by the wash-bowl. There’d been plenty of little hairs packed into it, and a blob of dry brown stuff which just had to be blood, because Dad was always cutting himself when he was shaving. Jimmy had scraped it all off with a little piece of paper, then gone out to the garden again, pressed his finger into the snowman’s shoulder to make a hole, pushed the paper inside and covered it up.

After that it had been really easy. He’d had to draw a circle around the mannequin, which he’d done by dragging his booted feet through the snow, then walk round and round it, anti-clockwise, repeating something called an ‘incantation’. The words hadn’t made any sense to Jimmy – he hadn’t even been sure if he was pronouncing them properly – but he’d said them anyway, carrying the book round with him as he walked.

However, when he’d finished nothing had happened. He hadn’t been sure what he’d expected to happen anyway, so he didn’t feel too disappointed. And besides, he wasn’t as cross with Dad by then, so it didn’t matter so much. He’d gone in for his lunch, wondering what he was going to do that afternoon. It was straight afterwards of course, when he’d found the snowman had gone. At first he’d been surprised, then worried, then frightened. And now at last, as he sat by the window waiting for Dad to come home from work – he was sorry!

It had only been a joke, honest.

All afternoon he’d mooched about on the street, sneaking up garden paths, peeking round corners and under people’s cars. There’d been no sign of the snowman, but Jimmy had convinced himself that it was out there somewhere. Just waiting for Dad to get home.

By now, the fun of the Christmas holidays was really wearing thin. By three o’clock it was snowing again, coming down hard, in heavy flakes, and Jimmy stood on the porch marvelling at how quickly it buried the stumps of plants in the front garden and the kerb where the pavement met the road. Soon even the milk bottles were hidden, only their necks visible. Mum was in a better mood and said that it was starting to look really Christmassy, but Jimmy found it ominous. Everything seemed to stop when it snowed this hard. He’d hardly seen anyone all day, and even though this was usually the time when lots of cars were coming back onto the estate, and lights coming on in houses, he hardly heard a sound. Even the rumbling engines from the main road round the corner were muffled almost to nothing. He began to feel as if everyone else had vanished. Then it started to get dark. That worried Jimmy even more. Once it was dark, no-one would be able to spot the snowman moving about. He’d be able to get really close to them.

By the time Dad got home, the sky was completely black. Jimmy hurried out to the porch and for a minute was dazzled by Dad’s headlights as he pulled carefully onto the drive, the car slipping and sliding. Then the lights went off and Dad climbed out, almost unrecognisable under his big overcoat and scarf. He stayed by the car and hissed for Jimmy to come over to him. Jimmy ventured over there, looking nervously around. In this blizzard, he could hardly see anything beyond the garden wall. Dad seemed very excited and asked quietly where Mum was. Jimmy said that she was upstairs having a shower. Dad said that that was great, and crept round to the back of his car, telling Jimmy to give him a hand. Jimmy followed him, but was feeling more and more nervous. The longer they stayed outside, the less he liked it. He was convinced somebody was watching them – and from quite close up.

What was worse, Dad seemed to take forever opening his car boot. Jimmy told him to hurry, as an afterthought adding that he was cold; which was true – his hair was already covered in flakes. Dad told him to hang on. Then Jimmy thought he heard the sound of feet approaching – big feet, crunching deeply in the snow. Getting louder and louder. He looked round sharply, terrified.

Dad started picking large, colourful parcels out of his boot and placing them in Jimmy’s arms. The crunching footsteps were even louder. Jimmy thought he was going to wet his pants. There seemed to be no end to the presents, but Jimmy wasn’t thinking about Christmas at all now. Dad was saying something about making it a really special year for Mum, and not to drop any of them. Then Jimmy realised where the footsteps were coming from: the alley at the side of the house, linking the front drive to the back garden. Whoever owned those gigantic feet was coming down that alley. And now they were almost at the end of it.

Dad was locking the boot and trying to balance a couple of parcels on his knee. Jimmy begged him to hurry. Dad tut-tutted and told him to go inside if he was cold. He suggested they put the presents at the back of the closet. Jimmy said he wasn’t going in without him. He grabbed Dad by the coat and started pulling him towards the front door. Dad told him to be careful, it was slippery. Jimmy didn’t look round as he heard the big feet come crunching out onto the drive, turn left and come straight towards them. Jimmy wanted to scream. Dad was chuckling, saying what great weather it was for Christmas.

Then he closed the front door behind them. The catch caught automatically.

Jimmy didn’t dare look back through the frosted glass, but dragged the curtain across and ran after Dad down the hall. They put all the presents at the back of the closet, piling coats across them. Then Dad said that he was going upstairs to get changed and have a word with Mum. Jimmy wasn’t to say anything to anyone about the presents. Jimmy nodded dumbly. When Dad had gone, he scampered around the house, checking that all the downstairs windows were locked, not to mention the back door and the French windows in the dining room.

Only then did he feel secure.

However, it wasn’t to last. When Mum came down she ordered him upstairs to tidy his room while she made tea. Dad came down behind her, grinning and winking at Jimmy. Worriedly, Jimmy went upstairs. He pulled the curtains back and looked out of his bedroom window, but a dense rime of frost covered the glass, and beyond that the snow was flurrying thickly. He could hardly make anything out at ground-level.

Then something happened which really frightened him. He heard somebody opening the back door. It sounded like Mum, probably taking rubbish out to the bins. For a moment he was frozen with fear, then he charged downstairs into the hall. Through the door to the living room, he could see Dad in the armchair, reading an evening paper. The news was on the television. There was suddenly no sound from the kitchen. Jimmy waited in the hall, breathlessly. Rooted to the carpet. Then he heard Mum coming back in again, and he rushed in to her.

She was blowing on her hands as she closed the back door, saying how bitter it was outside. Jimmy agreed, but he was now wondering how long she’d had that door open for. He looked warily around him. It wasn’t a small house – there were all sorts of hiding places in it. Things looked pretty normal, however, and there were no tell-tale snowy footprints leading across the linoleum floor to give the game away. He’d begun a tentative search, armed with his cricket bat, when Mum told him that tea was ready.

He ate in the lounge with Mum and Dad, constantly looking over his shoulder, wondering where the intruder might be concealed and when he might pounce. That was when he had the idea. He could hardly contain his excitement and relief and, as soon as he’d finished, Jimmy took his cup and plate through into the kitchen. When he was sure that nobody was following him in, he opened the meter cupboard and turned the thermostat onto full. He stood back, hardly daring to breathe. It didn’t seem to have any immediate effect on the temperature, but he knew that within a half-hour the whole house would be baking. Let’s see a snowman try and hide out in this, he thought triumphantly. The only thing now was to ensure that nothing happened before it got too hot for it. Jimmy had always had the gift of the gab, and as soon as he went back into the lounge, he began to engage Dad in long, meandering and ultimately pointless conversations. Dad put up with it at first, but eventually said that did Jimmy mind, but he was trying to watch the local news. Jimmy didn’t mind – as long as it kept Dad in the lounge. Only when the news had finished, and Dad got up, announcing that he was going to go and do the washing up, did Jimmy start chattering again.

Dad talked back for several minutes more, until Mum finally sighed and said from her armchair that if somebody didn’t go and do the washing-up soon, she’d have to do it herself. And would somebody please turn the heating down while they were at it? The house was like an oven! Dad said he’d sort it out. Reluctantly, Jimmy let him pass. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been in the lounge – maybe an hour or more. Surely that was enough?

As Dad went through into the kitchen, Jimmy began another nervous search of the downstairs rooms, at any time expecting to come across a huge wet patch on one of the carpets. It would take some explaining if he found one, but a telling-off was something he could put up with. However, there was no sign of anything wet. The hall and dining room were dry, as was the landing upstairs, all four bedrooms and the bathroom. As Jimmy came back downstairs, he began to wonder if perhaps the intruder hadn’t come in after all. There was no way he could have held out so long in this. It was so hot in the house that Jimmy was sweating hard.

That was why the icy breeze he suddenly felt seemed even colder than it should.

He stopped where he was, shivering. The breeze kept up. It could mean only one thing: somebody had opened a door somewhere. The front door was at the foot of the stairs – he could see it was closed. It had to be either the French windows or the back door. If the snowman was still outside, he might come in now.

Jimmy dashed down. As he scurried past the dining room, he stuck his head in quickly – the French windows were still closed. It was the kitchen then! He charged in without thinking, and saw two things immediately. Firstly, Dad was alright – he was standing by the sink, hands deep in the washing-up; secondly, the back door was wide open, snow billowing inside. Jimmy was baffled, especially as the door had the air of someone having just gone out through it rather than just come in. But then he noticed that another door was open as well – wide open. It was the door in the corner, the door to the deepfreeze, probably the only place in the house where the thermostat would have made no difference to the temperature.

Jimmy stammered something to Dad, but Dad said nothing. He didn’t move either.

And there were other questions: why was Dad was now wearing his Bolton Wanderers scarf? Why did it look so tight?

Devils, witches and festive ghost stories

2011-12-06T01:55:00.000-08:00

I have a bit more good news to report on THE DEVIL’S ROCK.

In a week when I officiallly commenced work on the sequel to our wartime horror movie of last summer, the original, which is still out there and still kicking, has sold to new territories in the form of Germany and Switzerland.

Slowly but surely we are conquering.

Fans might also be interested to see some of the new artwork for the movie. Both above and below you see the two different cover designs, both of which will be utilised for the release of THE DEVIL’S ROCK on Blu-Ray in New Zealand. It's also been announced that the movie will screen at the Yubari Fantastic Film Festival in Japan in February next year, with director Paul Campion in attendance.

Even now, with the movie half a year old and travelling the globe in a way that I can only dream I could, there is a strange feeling of unreality - as if it's something I imagined rather than something that actually happened. As I mentioned before, the first development meeting for the as-yet-untitled sequel was held in The Hospital Club in London last week, and even though we started thrashing out the storyline and, during the course of our chat, received phone-calls from different actors to confirm their desire to participate, it still seemed like we were having a bit of fun rather than actually working. That atmosphere doesn't prevail all the way through the process of course - making movies is very far from being a doddle - but it's a still a unique and at times delightful way to earn a living.

On a different note, readers who've been following the development of new TERROR TALES line, may be interested in a brand new novel from the writer Antonia James, who has a story in our next volume (due out next Easter).
THE THUNDERSTONE is a fascinating 'regional horror' set in the Lancashire heartland surrounding notorious Pendle Hill. It's aimed at the older teen market, but is a compelling tale of witchcraft and romance, and is written with a real eye for that bleak and mysterious district. Well worth checking out, though I'm sure you'll be able to judge that for yourselves from the amazing cover.

Again on a different note, it's getting increasingly difficult to ignore the time of year. With flurries of snow outside and holly and ivy adorning most front doors, I thought I might celebrate the season by posting a couple of my older Christmas ghost stories here on the blog in the next couple of weeks. I'm not sure exactly which section they'll appear in, but watch this space for more details.

Sparrowhawk now issued in ebook version

2011-11-30T01:18:00.000-08:00

SPARROWHAWK, my Christmas horror novella of last year, which was nominated as a finalist in the British Fantasy Awards, has finally made it into ebook form - HERE (UK) and HERE (US) – just in time for the 2011 festive season.

This Yuletide tale of terror and torment is probably my favourite piece of work to date (so much so that I’ve even written a two-episode film/TV script from it, entirely on spec). Quite a few of you will already be familiar with it, but for those who aren’t, and for those who prefer their reading matter in electronic format, this new version could be just what you need if you fancy acquiring something spooky but seasonal this December.

Here’s the official blurb:

In December 1843, embittered Afghan War veteran, John Sparrowhawk, is released from the debtor’s prison by the beautiful but enigmatic Miss Evangeline.

Penniless, alone and tortured by the demons of his past, he has no option but to accept employment with his mysterious new benefactor. The job she offers him is to stand guard over a house in Bloomsbury for the duration of the Christmas period. It sounds simple enough, but as the coldest winter in living memory descends on London, Sparrowhawk senses the presence of an unseen but very dangerous enemy, who will soon start to manifest in the most horrific and terrifying ways …

I’d add a bit to that now, pointing out that SPARROWHAWK isn’t just a horror story. Sure, it comprises strong horror elements, but its setting is Victorian London – desolate, frosty backstreets, ice-cold rooms in drab tenements, bustling Christmas markets wreathed in a fog of London breath as paupers and pickpockets rub shoulders with the rich and splendid – so I think it’s atmosphere is more that of a festive ghost story.

Some of its evil entities are certainly drawn from that milieu:

… The marionette was directly behind him. Its arms were by its sides, but its head had jerked upright, the beads rolling in its bauble eyes. Its hinged jaw dropped to reveal a cavernous blood-red mouth, from which a demented squawk issued …

But SPARROWHAWK is not just a ghost story either. It’s also a period adventure, taking us from the battle-scarred plains of 19th century Afghanistan to the smoke-blackened moors of industrial Lancashire, from thieves’ kitchens in London’s teeming slums to glittering ballrooms filled with lords, ladies and Machiavellian schemers.

There is beauty in SPARROWHAWK:

… Leticia was ‘peaches and cream’ pretty, as she’d always been: her lips strawberry pink, her eyes peppermint green; soft freckles dusted her nose …

And there are monsters:

… With another low growl – this one mewling and prolonged – the lion-thing tore off its dress shirt. The naked torso beneath was massive of shoulder and chest, padded all over with muscle, rich with thick, tawny fur …

I’m acutely aware that I’m what really doing here is banging my own drum again. But I guess the object of this exercise is to try to give you a sort of cinematic trailer, and not only that, a trailer with an epic feel.

For example, there is no shortage of action:

… Tribesmen were surging on all sides, their powerful jezails pouring non-stop fire into the close-packed British ranks …

… he drew his sabre and cut his way among them. He hacked an Afghan’s legs away. He shore another’s arm at the elbow. He rammed his sword through a screaming mouth, only for the blade to snap as he tried to yank it free …

Tension:

… He followed them at his own pace for several miles, heading through Clerkenwell and St Luke’s, and eventually into Hoxton, where the ways became narrow and twisting, passing between rookeries that reeked of squalour and villainy …

Or passion:

… He made to move away, but she stopped him, turned his face to hers, and, standing up on tip toes, kissed him on the lips. Her mouth was warm, moist, sweet as rosewater. It lingered on his for several moments.
When they separated again, she asked: “Am I real enough for you now?” …

… Their lips met again. His loins stirred as their tongues entwined. His muscles tightened as her hands crept around his back, the contours of her body fitting snugly against his. Suddenly, for the first time in months, Sparrowhawk felt strong again, healthy, vital…

But why take my word for it? Since the book was first published last Christmas, quite a few positive reviews have appeared. Here are some choice extracts:

Finch excels, both in his creation of the Victorian milieu, with compelling portrayals of the snowbound streets and the lives of the poor, so that you can feel the ache of the cold as it gets into your bones and the hunger in your belly, and also in the way in which the attacking entities use Sparrowhawk’s psychology against him, so that his emotional well-being is more under threat than his physical person.

Finch also uses the novel to criticise the politics of the day, and by inference those of our own time seem firmly in his sights also, with plenty of correspondence to be drawn – British soldiers involved in a hopeless Afghan conflict, civil unrest at home over social conditions, etc. Scenes such as the victory feast at which Sparrowhawk’s vanity is massaged by a famous general of the conflict, and his memories of the Peterloo massacre, ground the book in our present day as much as they do the Victorian age …
Black Static

Sparrowhawk is defined as “a Victorian ghost story” masterfully blending different fictional elements. Partly it’s a historical tableau – the story is set in London in 1843 and features an Afghan war veteran who, at the beginning of the story lies in a debtor’s prison – depicting with efficacy the features of life during Victorian England.

A mysterious and fascinating employer recruits Sparrowhawk to guard and protect the inhabitants of a London house against unspecified enemies which soon will reveal their true, supernatural nature. Thus the novella soon becomes a ghostly, horrific tale full of creepy surprises.

In addition Finch manages to squeeze into the tale a fleeting love story which will briefly soothe the Captain’s emotional pain deriving from a past private tragedy.

Reading this book is a pleasure for any lover of good fiction. I warmly invite you to partake in this pleasure.
Hellnotes

Finch’s strength in this sub-genre is his obvious detailed knowledge of the periods he writes about. This is not portrayed through any great protracted exposition but via the everyday lives of the characters. Sparrowhawk’s revelations about the tragedy of the original Afghanistan war resonate into modern times but it is the war’s effect on the returning soldiers that is most powerful. Here are war heroes sent by their lords and masters to do their bidding in the most dreadful circumstances only to find on their return they are discarded by society, sound familiar?

This emotional resonance is portrayed with a light touch but is only part of the story. The details of the surroundings and everyday life in Victorian London really bring the book alive, you can almost smell the filthy backstreets and grimy bodies. But this is first and foremost a ghost story and it succeeds by never revealing too much of the threat.

Ideally it’s a book that should be read on a snowy Christmas Eve, preferably by candlelight and with the local urchins singing Christmas carols outside but even in a blazing hot April it still managed to impart that atmosphere and Christmas spirit.
The Black Abyss

I should add quickly that SPARROWHAWK is still available to buy in print form if you prefer it (the original text has not been altered in any way for this ebook). Just call in at PENDRAGON PRESS or AMAZON UK or US.

But if you’re dead-set on the new electronic version, you can buy it HERE. I’m not trying to twist your arm or anything, even though John Sparrowhawk definitely would – literally – but at £2.86 / $4.41, is this an opportunity for an early Christmas prezzie that you can honestly afford to miss?

These macabre are well and truly dancing

2011-11-18T00:19:00.001-08:00

Quod fuimus, estis; quod sumus, vos eristis ...

If an understanding of that once-famous Latin quotation doesn't spring immediately to mind, don't be too embarrassed. It only exists now as part of a fading fresco in a 14th century European church. But back in the day, that would have been quite a salutory lesson to anyone who encountered it, especially if he was in church because he felt he had a few sins to unburden from his soul.

It features originally at the end of a short medieval parable, in which three well-heeled young men are hunting in the forest only to strange hear voices calling them to an isolated glade. When they arrive there, they are confronted by three decaying cadavers who approach and embrace them.

The Latin text relevant to this tale translates as: "What we were, you are; what we are, you will be."

Nice thought, eh? But to be fair, the artist responsible was only trying to do what I have tried to do with my new short novella, KING DEATH, released by SPECTRAL PRESS this last week: take some meaning from the appalling tragedy that was the Black Death, the ghastly plague which arrived in England, having already ravaged Europe and the Middle East, in 1348.

('Black Death' was the name given to it by English writers of the time; it was also known as 'the Pest', 'the Scourge', 'the Visitation' and 'the Darkness' - none of which, correct me if I'm wrong, sound as if they were coined to try and reassure those living in its shadow).

Okay, okay ... I'm not trying to put myself on the same pedestal as the great artisans of that gloriously artistic age. I'm just trying to point out that the Black Death has long been a source of fascination to creative types.

Haivng minuscule science to hand, those living at the time were moved to try and understand it through their imagination. With two out of every three people dying (imagine that!), it's perhaps no surprise that many artworks produced during the plague years and post-plague years came to depict the inevitability of Death in general, and made great play of its non-discriminatory nature. The woodcut at the top of this column is the famous 'Dance Of Death' by Michael Wolgemut from (1493), a shocking image which movie buffs will also recollect from the end of the classic motion picture on the same subject, Bergman's THE SEVENTH SEAL (1957).

Below is 'The Abbot' by Holbein the Younger, which shows that even the most dignified personages could also be dragged off to become part of Death's cannibal feast. Lower down is a freely pinched segment from 'Totentanz' as it was in Lübeck’s Marienkirche (destroyed in World War II); this one is particularly chilling, as it vividly portrays the fiendish glee with which the dead prepare the living to join them.

Of course, the artists who created these meaningful nightmares had a better excuse than me. They experienced the plague at first-hand, and it almost certainly marked them for the rest of their lives. All I can admit to with KING DEATH is having told a grim and hopefully spooky tale set against the turbulent backdrop of plague-stricken 14th century England.

If you can forgive a minor conceit, thus far the reviews are pretty positive. I'm not going to reproduce them in full, but here are a couple of choice extracts.

Walt Hicks of HELLBOUND TIMES says of it:

In the capable hands of multiple award-winning author Paul Finch, we are masterfully, if reluctantly, transported to those unimaginably dreadful days of pestilence, death and misery. And yet, Finch renders these gruesome horrors with such an achingly beautiful and precise prose that the reader’s heart is torn in pity ...

Geoff Nelder of SCIENCE42FICTION comments:

“... award-winning author, Paul Finch, steeps us in the stench of rotting bodies, and plays with the retaking of the environment by Nature. To keep us engrossed in the medieval experience we are treated to a wonderful lexicon of the ages: Jongleur, rambraces, rerebraces, miniver, bascinet, seneschal, sokemen, and my favourite – ouches of gold. To save you reaching for Dictionary.com there is a glossary bringing up the rear though the context is usually enough to keep you going ..."

(It would be very remiss of me not to here thank Spectrals's Simon Marshall-Jones for suggesting the idea of a medievasl glossary of terms - I do sometimes forget that not everyone is as drenched in that era as I am).

In some ways it feels strange being congratulated for having re-evoked the full horror and mystery of the plague era, but I'm fortunate in that history never feels dead to me. I always believe that, unless you have a specific agenda to do otherwise, you're not being true to the past unless you present it - even in fictional terms - warts and all.

Or should that be 'plague-sores and all'?

I'll get my coat ...

Celebrating death in the Lake District mist

2011-11-14T02:22:00.000-08:00

I'm pleased to be able to report that one of the contributions to TERROR TALES OF THE LAKE DISTRICT, Simon Bestwick's blood-chilling THE MORAINE, has been recommended for a BRAM STOKER AWARD in the capacity of Best Short Fiction.

THE MORAINE is certainly a scary one. It tells the tale of a couple who get lost on the misty Lakeland fells, becoming increasingly antagonistic to each other, only to then start to suspect that they aren't up there alone. But that's only the start of it. There are twists and turnes galore as the sense of horror and confusion (because this is no ordinary stalker who is on their tail) mounts.

As so often in Simon Bestwick's stories, the human heroes are flawed by weakness and self-interest, and as such are completely unprepared for the unexpected terror they are suddenly forced to deal wtih, but equally as always in Simon's work, these characters are so well drawn and realistic that you always end up rooting for them.

In other news connected to TERROR TALES OF THE LAKE DISTRICT, a rather nice review on Amazon gives it five stars and describes the book as "a creepy and entertaining set of stories, among which were a few absolute classics".

There is also an interesting new offer out from the book's publisher, GRAY FRIAR PRESS ... just in time for Christmas, no less

Visit the GRAY FRIAR site, and if you purchase TERROR TALES OF THE LAKE DISTRICT from there, you can get the previous anthology DEATH RATTLES, for only an extra £4 / $7. That comes out at £14.99 / $31 including shipping. Add an extra £4 / $7 to that, and you can also get the Gray Friar anthology published before that, WHERE THE HEART IS (£18.99 / $38).

In a separate offer from GRAY FRIAR PRESS, they still have a few signed, numbered editions of my most recent collection, ONE MONSTER IS NOT ENOUGH (though these have no jackets, I understand), and they are available at £8 / $20, including shipping. (I'm also advised that paperback versions of ONE MONSTER IS NOT ENOUGH can also be bought for only £7 / $18, including shipping). If you want to take advantage of any of these special offers, apparently you need to send funds by PayPal to gary.fry@virgin.net.

So there we are. Bargain offers, I'm sure you'll agree. In other news this week, my latest Dr Who audio drama, HEXAGORA, starring Peter Davison, Janet Fielding and Sarah Sutton, is now available from Big Finish Productions. It's a full-cast drama, which I adapted from an outline by Peter Ling and Hazel Adair (not, as some know-alls have posted online, from an original television script), and it tells the tale of an alien abduction from Earth which leads the Doctor and the Tardis crew to a distant planet and a street-for-street replica of Elizabethan London. Thus far, I'm glad to report, it seems to be going down rather well.

No rest for the wicked: now it's story time

2011-11-09T01:43:00.000-08:00

Well … my frenetic few weeks of intense, round-the-clock work has come to a (possibly temporary) halt. With a completed Dr Who audio script, a completed novel, and two completed novellas all delivered in the last month or so, I’ve suddenly found myself with a couple of spare days on my hands.

Not that they are really spare, you understand. I’m certainly not going to be sitting around, gazing through the rain-streaked lounge window at grey skies and leafless trees. There are still jobs to be done: ideas to spin, concepts to hatch, pitches to be sketched and then fired off forthwith to my favourite publishers and producers. There is also a necessity to assemble the remaining anecdotal material for the next TERROR TALES OF … volume. (Four of the short stories are now in for that anthology, and they make unnerving reading). At the same time, I’m slowly but surely assembling the writing team for the third volume in the series though if I’m honest, that isn’t likely to start happening until well into next spring.

Of course, none of these chores carry the high pressure tag. However brief an experience it proves, it’s nice to be able to work to the sort of relaxed deadline that will not cost anyone – i.e. me – significant money if it slips. It’s also nice to be able to have a crack at a few short stories of my own.

While I was at Fantasycon in Brighton last October, I was asked a couple of times if I’d stopped penning short stories as folk hadn’t seen much of these from me in recent times.

And it was true, when I totted it up in my mind – discounting the new material included in my collections WALKERS IN THE DARK and ONE MONSTER IS NOT ENOUGH, or in my three MEDI-EVIL ebooks, I’d only actually had seven new short stories published during the whole of 2010 and 2011. They were: PROFANITIES (which appeared in EXOTIC GOTHIC 3); WE, WHO LIVE IN THE WOOD (which appeared in BLACK STATIC 14); THE DOOM (which appeared in BLACK BOOK OF HORROR 6); THE GREEN BATH (which appeared in BLACK BOOK OF HORROR 7); SPECIAL POWERS (which appeared in ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE); TOK (which appeared in BLACK BOOK OF HORROR 8) and FULL CIRCLE (which appeared in FULL FATHOM FORTY).

Once I had a reputation for being prolific in this department, but of course we’re all a little bit older and wiser now. Short stories, though my favourite literary form, unfortunately carry the least cash potential. I can boast a grand total of two which have been optioned for movie development – LAW OF THE JUNGLE (which first appeared in SACKCLOTH AND ASHES in 2000) and THE BELFRIES (which first appeared in ACQUAINTED WITH THE NIGHT in 2004), though neither have been made thus far. Of course, as your short story output dries up, so do the invitations. Because you’re too busy chasing the bigger bucks, you risk becoming a non-person in short story terms (probably a bit of an exaggeration there, but you get my drift).

Anyway, eager to put this right and reassert myself as a reliable teller of tall but short tales, I’ve recently been seeking out various editors and anthologists I know, and have managed to persuade them to pencil me in on their next TOCs. As things stand, I ‘m now starting work on four new short stories. I can’t see that this brief window I’ve got will be sufficient to get them all boxed off, but if I can make a head-start, who knows? Perhaps my handful of easy days will allow me to re-energise sufficiently to write in the evenings again, not that I enjoy this much.

No details or titles yet, but here are a few hints about what may be to come:

Story A takes us along a scenic but eerie coastline, where abandoned buildings are all the rage and unpleasant entities lurk inside them; Story B takes us on a working weekend to another coastline, though this one is more suited for party mayhem – the only problem is that no-one is quite what they seem; Story C takes us to the Highlands of Scotland, where even the local red-blooded outdoorsmen are experiencing a spot of bother (trust me, their blood is very red indeed); Story D takes us to a tatty little circus in the grounds of a gloomy manor house …

If all that isn’t intriguing enough, I may have some more movie news in the next few days – so keep checking in.

No shortage of horror over this Halloween

2011-11-01T04:31:00.000-07:00

I make no apologies for using this rather excellent image to accompany this particular post. It doesn’t illustrate anything I’m currently working on, nor is it an outtake from the next movie. It simply shows the ingenious outfit that my son, Harry (16), donned for our friends’ big Halloween bash – which was held last Saturday, and what a smart decision that turned out to be given the way the weather deteriorated yesterday.

Last night in northwest England the leaves swirled on a howling wind and the rain fell like torrents of ink. Very atmospheric, I suppose, but there were relatively few trick-or-treaters out and about, and an entire bucket of goodies remained uneaten in our porch – not at good thing for those in this house who are supposed to be dieting.

Of course, Halloween is not a holiday over here in the UK. I spent mine at the grindstone, putting the final touches to my contribution to the long-awaited sequel to the very successful ‘mosaic novel’ of last year, ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE, created and edited by Stephen Jones.

I’m not at liberty to say what my section of the next book will be about, but I was watching THE WALKING DEAD this evening and must admit that it’s very impressive. In fact, if it wasn’t for ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE being optioned by Palomar Pictures in Hollywood, I really would regard this TV show as the last word on this gruesome subject. But here's a thought - isn’t it about time we rolled zombies back to their supernatural roots? I don’t know about you guys, but I miss the days when zombies were only to be found on blighted Caribbean islands, being raised from their shallow, palm-frond covered graves by maniac voodoo priests. Well, in the sequel to ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE, we can’t boast palm trees or Caribbean islands (though don’t hold me to that - I’m not writing all of it, after all), but this time there will be a strong supernatural element.

In other horror-related news this week, I‘ve been working on the anecdotal section of the next book in my TERROR TALES OF … series. This refers to those incidents of ‘true horror’ that I’ll be inserting between all the fictional stories.

Readers of TERROR TALES OF THE LAKE DISTRICT (also available from Amazon, UK and US) will remember such ghastly curios as The Mad Clown of Muncaster, which detailed the devilish doings of a demented jester in an isolated Cumbrian Castle, The Devil’ Hole, in which shrieks heard from a very deep cavern close to Kirkby Stephen were mistaken (or perhaps not) for the screams of the damned, the case of The Croglin Vampire, in which a grotesque, mummified figure made nightly visits to a lonely country house, and so forth.

In this spirit, I’ve been researching vigorously for the next book, and have settled on 17 similarly macabre anecdotes with which to pepper it. Of course I’m not going to say anything about them here, because that would give it away where the next book is to be set – though as always, I’m flabbergasted by how much of the weird and unexplained still lurks close beneath the UK’s placid surface. You literally only need to nick it.

Here are another couple of clues to prick your interest with regard to the next book’s location. The first (right) is a medieval brass rubbing depicting an ancient king who even though he was beheaded, continued to administer his own brand of justice.

The second one, shot (below), shot by John Salmon, depicts a ghostly ruin where a nobleman, whose ambitions took him far beyond common treachery, brought an unimaginably awful fate on himself.

Demonic adversaries are never far from us

2011-10-25T01:09:00.000-07:00

Well ... I can safely say that the monstrous adversaries we created in THE DEVIL’S ROCK will shortly be back. I've now received official notification regarding a sequel to the movie, which hopefully may be made as early as next year.

It's too early to give any details of course, but the first installment continues to do well and to attract plenty of publicity, so the second one will have much the same atmosphere, though it will be bigger in so many ways. I have the first draft synopsis in front of me as we speak courtesy of director Paul Campion, and though I’m sorely tempted to give some of it away, I can’t. Just trust me when I tell you that it contains some amazing ideas, which on camera will be quite fantastic.

I received a very nice fillip the other day, when a friend’s daughter came home and told her dad how her date had been waxing lyrical about a new movie he’d just seen – THE DEVIL’S ROCK – without knowing anything about our connection to it. Thanks to Steve and Becky Lockley for passing on that pleasant little gem. These sorts of developments are small, but they helps you realise, more than anything else, that your work is out there and being appreciated by the masses.

Unfortunately, in the case of THE DEVIL’S ROCK, it’s being appreciated in ways that it shouldn’t be – in less pleasing news last week, I was given a figure totalling how many sales we’ve now lost as a result of illegal downloading.

I’m not going to repeat the figure here, but it’s astonishing. This is the first time that movie piracy has ever hit me in the pocket personally. I know the temptation when there are so many online facilities for free access for new movies, to just press a button and settle back – but I’d urge fans to think twice about this. Don’t be lulled into assuming that everyone involved in the movie industry is stonking rich and can easily absorb the losses. Most are just hard-working folk whose earnings, which are rarely as extravagant as the public may believe, depend on the product they’ve laboured on for so many months performing well in the market place.

But now to more edifying matters (as the image on the left amply illustrates).

You’ll notice that I’ve sprinkled this week’s blog with new images of THE DEVIL’S ROCK. These are the latest posters being utilised to promote the film in territories where we’ve yet to take root. (Ignore the top one – that’s a generic if impressive image from an original medieval window, which I craftily used to make you think that a Satan-inspired Armageddon is upon us – heh heh heh!).

I reckon all these new posters are pretty cool. They take a very different approach to the ones we used when selling the movie in the UK, the US and New Zealand, though yet again I see that we’ve managed to incorporate an image of Gina Varela in ‘murderous minx’ mode – well, there’s no sense pretending this movie is something it isn’t.

In news unrelated to my movie endeavours, KING DEATH , my impending short novella from Spectral Press, is due to be released later next month. Apparently it was scheduled for publication in December, but it sounds as if the product is already virtually sold out. Simon Marshal-Jones, the man behind Spectral Press, advises me that only four copies remain unsold. Check out the link to his blog for further info. KING DEATH features devils of a different sort as Rodric, a vagrant knight crosses an England so devastated by the Black Death that the lines between horrible reality and hideous fantasy appear to have blurred.

Peter Tennant, reviewing the novella in BLACK STATIC, says of it:

King Death is a well told tale, engendering the necessary shudders for the reader and with an ending you don't quite see coming but which, in retrospect, seems entirely appropriate and to have much of poetic justice about it. Vonnegut would have approved.

In other non-movie news, the next volume in my TERROR TALES OF … anthology adventure is well under way to production. I’ve had a lot of fun these last two weeks sorting out the anecdotal ‘true tales of terror’ which I intend to become a trademark of this series. Already I’ve had several responses to TERROR TALES OF THE LAKE DISTRICT (also available from Amazon) focussing in particular on these anecdotes, which the readers in question say they’ve found fascinating and ghoulish in equal measure. The district I’ve chosen for the next volume seems to prove the old adage that still waters really do run deep. On the surface it’s as peaceful and picturesque as they come, but down below, in the depths of its history and folklore, there is a world of chaos and horror that would astound modern-day visitors. Of course, it isn’t just the anecdotes – we’ve also recruited some excellent writers who even now are busy scratching out their fatal fictions.

I’m not going to reveal any more at this stage – not until you’re all salivating! – but here’s another clue: the original of the demonic image at the top of this blog is located there. Yes, this is definitely a space to keep watching.

Devilish deeds in dark and dismal rooms

2011-10-18T15:27:00.001-07:00

The horror movie I wrote for Chameleon Pictures, THE DEVIL’S ROCK, which went on general release earlier this year, now appears to be doing business on a global scale. The rights to many territories have been sold, but it is also hitting the festival circuit in a big way.

The latest news on that front sees THE DEVIL’S ROCK included in the schedules at the OUTCRY FILM FESTIVAL, Norway (Oct 27-29) and the SAN SEBASTIAN HORROR AND FANTASY FILM FESTIVAL, Spain (Oct 29 - Nov 4). These follow on from its screening at the Icon TLV Fantastic Film Festival in Tel Aviv, Israel, last weekend.

In other news connected to the movie, leading man Craig Hall, who played the conflicted Captain Ben Grogan (and is pictured below during filiming with the film’s director, Paul Campion), has landed a plum role in Peter Jackson’s THE HOBBIT (one of the Elves apparently), so I guess that’s going to keep him busy for a while.

There is also good news for Craig, who’s a finalist in New Zealand’s Aotearoa Film & TV Awards for 2011, in the capacity of Best Supporting Actor for his performances in BLOODLINES, and for one of the movie’s crew-members, Phil Burton, who is up for Best Sound Design for his work on PANIC AT ROCK ISLAND. Good luck to both of those guys. They deserve it.

Meanwhile, the movie’s female star, Gina Varela, pictured right in the sort of pose which shows she can make just about any costume look good, is interviewed in depth along with Paul Campion in the latest edition of NEXUS.

This is a cracking read, and it's worth popping in to have a look.

Folk keep asking me if there will be a follow-up movie, THE DEVIL’S ROCK 2 by any chance? Well … would it be revealing too much to say that I’ve now received my first official set of preliminary notes regarding a possible sequel? I can’t say too much more about it, except that from what I see here, if it goes ahead, it will be a much bigger operation, with more chills, more action and more demons.

On the subject of follow-ups, I can also reveal that I’ve now officially commissioned the second in my TERROR TALES OF … series of anthologies, which are being published by GRAY FRIAR PRESS.

The first one, TERROR TALES OF THE LAKE DISTRICT, did astonishingly well very quickly. An unofficial launch at Fantasycon 2011 – an event attended by an almost unprecedented 500 delegates – provided a great platform for us of course, but the book can now be ordered via AMAZON UK and AMAZON US as well. And the sales are continuing at a healthy rate of knots.

In all honesty, though I’ve got great plans for this series of books, and though I’m a lover of horror stories inspired by folklore and local history, I always had it in the back of my mind that this entire plan was possibly a little over-ambitious. I certainly did not expect to be drawing up the second volume before Christmas, but I’m never one to look a gift-horse in the mouth.

The writers are all now on board, terms have been agreed, and the stories are being written. The cover, I’m told, is already on its way to completion. I hasten to add that the book won’t be published until 2012. You can’t afford to hurry these things too much – so for that reason I’m not going to reveal anything else about the book yet. In the homespun philosophy of my neck of the woods, a closed mouth gathers no foot.

However, just as a mischievous little taster, look at the picture below. if you can identify that room, then it’s likely you'll recollect the truly devilish deed that was done there. And that will tell you all you need to know about the region of Britain which the next book in the series will focus on.

Dark water, evil hags and misty mountains

2011-10-13T08:21:00.000-07:00

I learned today that TERROR TALES OF THE LAKE DISTRICT, my first anthology as editor, which was published by GRAY FRIAR PRESS just over two weeks ago, is selling very well indeed.

This is great news, as we fully intend to continue with this series of ‘regional’ horror anthologies for as long as they are able to earn their keep, so thus far there are no complaints.

Needless to say, I’m delighted with some of the writers I’ve attracted to this first book in the series. Names like Adam Nevill, Reggie Oliver, Simon Clark, Ramsey Campbell, and others, ought to be dripping off the tongues of all true horror fans, and I’ve got some equally illustrious names now lining up for the next volume – but no, I’m not going to give anything away just yet (keep watching this space, though).

TERROR TALES OF THE LAKE DISTRICT is now available directly from AMAZON (UK and US), and for those still dithering about whether or not to buy, here – courtesy of the indefatigable Mark West, is a rather nice little YouTube trailer for the book – CHECK IT OUT.

If that doesn’t whet your appetites, what will?

Perhaps this rather nice comment passed on the amazing VAULT OF EVIL message board, one of the most informed 'horror anthology' forums currently online:

Where better to recuperate than the Lake District with its breathtaking views, idyllic villages, quaint customs, bracing fresh air, bone-crushing hags, petrified hikers, mobile monoliths, disquieting gummy ferrymen, ancient witchcraft, black sorcery, and more White Ladies of this or that lake than you can shake a stick at? Keep your wits about you, kids. You're in cagoule country now. They do things different 'round here …

Oh yeees. Couldn’t have put it better myself.

(With special thanks to 'Demonik' for that very cool quote).

The sun, the sea and not-so-silent screams

2011-10-10T02:53:00.000-07:00

Well, Fantasycon 2011 was as much of a blast as I expected it to be. It’s a torturous round-trip from Lancashire to Brighton, but it was well worth it for the sun, the beer and the multiple reunions with old friends.

Lasting memories will be the temperature (we were officially hotter on the Saturday than Saudi Arabia), the scorching curry Cath and I shared with Steve Lockley and artist Vinnie Chong, and John Llewellyn Probert and Thana Niveau’s amazing ‘pantomime’ rendition of BLOOD ON SATAN’S CLAW and the 1960s shocker, CORRUPTION. The striptease acts were also quite memorable – the girls were covered with Cthulhu tattoos so that meant it was a horror show rather than a display of sexist objectification (honest!); but I don’t care, I enjoyed it for both reasons.

In terms of official activities,THE DEVIL’S ROCK was screened in the ‘midnight movie’ slot on the Friday. In retrospect, this might not have been a great idea. The screening was well attended, but plenty of people were plastered and, having in many cases driven hundreds of miles to get there that day, were wilting at such a late hour. But the only alternative was an early evening slot on the Friday, and I wasn’t convinced that was ideal either as so many delegates would still be checking in. I handled the Q&A afterwards – and though there are some photos of this event, I haven’t received any yet, so you’ll just have to trust me that it actually happened.

Anyway, many thanks to all those who attended the movie, enjoyed it and asked intelligent questions afterwards, which was just about everyone who was in there.

There was some controversy surrounding the awards ceremony, but that’s been dealt with on other websites and at an official level now, so I won’t dredge up the details here. There was certainly nothing controversial about the results in the categories in which I had high hopes. I had one nomination – SPARROWHAWK – in the Best Novella category, but the prize went to Simon Clark’s HUMPTY’S BONES (pictured above), and two – WALKERS IN THE DARK and ONE MONSTER IS NOT ENOUGH – in the Best Collection category, but the prize went to Stephen King for FULL DARK, NO STARS. It’s certainly no shame to lose out to either of those giants of the genre - in fact it's an honour to be mentioned alongside them - and as Simon in particular is a good friend of mine, I reiterate the hearty congratulations I offered to him at the time. Simon is a worthy winner on any occasion.

I did have one minor success during the event. We unofficially launched TERROR TALES OF THE LAKE DISTRICT, my first anthology as editor, which was published a couple of weeks ago by Gray Friar Press, and it went down great guns. In fact, it sold so many copies in its first weekend (and this is before we even start placing it with Lake District booksellers) that we’ve now been encouraged to move rapidly onto the next volume.

Our long term plan is for this to extend into a full ‘regional’ TERROR TALES OF … series, concentrating initially on the UK, but maybe moving further afield in due course. During the convention I had a lots conversations with top writers whose work I’d like to include, and almost all were keen to get involved. So this is a space you’ll definitely need to keep watching with regard to developments.

I’m unashamed to mention that this idea been strongly influenced by the Fontana ‘Tales of Terror’ series edited by R. Chetwynd-Hayes (sometimes under a pseudonym) back in the 1970s, though most of those books reprinted a lot of existing (albeit little known) horror fiction.
I will be publishing some classic reprints in my series, but for the most part it will be new and original material. One clear similarity between the two series will be the anecdotal ‘true horror stories’ that I’ll be interspersing between the ‘made up’ stories. It’s a bit worrying, actually – you don’t have to dig very deeply into any region’s history of folklore, crime or the occult to find some very bizarre and disturbing events (as those who’ve now read TERROR TALES OF THE LAKE DISTRICT will hopefully attest).

One last item of news, unrelated to any of those which have gone above – my forthcoming short novella from Spectral Press, KING DEATH, has now provisionally sold out. I’m not sure whether that will be received as good news or bad news, but as it’s only officially released in December, I must, as the author, take it as a thumbs-up.

Whether it’s a timely thing to mention here or not, there has already been one online review for this story, on Good Reads. I won't go into too much detail because the whole review can be found HERE, but phrases like "terrific imagery", "excellent story" and "gripped from start to finish" are always music to a writer's ears.

Mixing business and pleasure in Brighton

2011-09-26T22:51:00.000-07:00

There won't be too much activity on this blog in the next few day - at least, not from me - as I'll be heading down to FANTASYCON in Brighton, where I have a few items of business to deal with.

First off, on Friday night (Sept 30th), at 11.50pm, I'll be hosting the 'midnight movie slot' by presenting THE DEVIL’S ROCK, which, by all accounts has gone down great guns during its recent New Zealand release.

Pictured is the street poster that accompanied the movie's debut in the Land of the Long White Cloud.

The latest reviews are very favourable.

HORRORNEWS.NET says of us:

THE DEVIL'S ROCK is everything that I love about an effective horror film. Some of the best horror films have been slow burns. They build the tension and suspense through character. When the reveal does make an appearance (though apparent) it still manages to give you a jolt ... This is a film that might fly under the radar but worth your time to seek out.

In addition at FANTASYCON I'll be publicising (and hopefully selling a few copies) of my first ever horror anthology as editor - TERROR TALES OF THE LAKE DISTRICT. This collection from Gray Friar Press presents ten original works of fiction, plus three classic reprints, not to mention numerous anecdotal accounts of real incidents of paranormal terror - all with a Lake District background. Such luminaries as Ramsey Campbell, Reggie Oliver, Adam Nevill, Peter Crowther and others, light up our pages. The amazing artwork (pictured) is by Steve Upham. My aim is to create a new series of regionally-themed British horror anthologies, with this one the first installment.

After this, the other main item on the agenda is the BRITISH FANTASY AWARDS. I have three titles on the final shortlist - ONE MONSTER IS NOT ENOUGH (Gray Friar) and WALKERS IN THE DARK (Ash-Tree) in the capacity of Best Collection By A Single Author and SPARROWHAWK (Pendragon) in the capacity of Best Novella.

This is the most pieces of work I've ever had still in the running at this late stage in the prestigious annual awards. It doesn't mean I've won anything. All three may flunk - after all there is some sterling opposition, but it's very nice to make the final ballot in any shape or form as it means that, if nothing else, my peers regard my output last year as being worth something. Of course, it would be nice to actually win ... but that's in the lap of the gods, as they say.

Familiar faces and a new peril - Hexagora!

2011-09-22T00:19:00.000-07:00

I'm rather pleased by the uber-cool trailer for my next Dr Who audio drama from Big Finish, HEXAGORA, which has now been made available. Check it out by following the link.

HEXAGORA, which will be released on November 30th this year, is a four-part adventure for the Fifth Doctor, starring Peter Davison as the venerable Time Lord, Janet Fielding as Tegan, Sarah Sutton as Nyssa, and guest-starring the imcomparable Jacqueline Pearce (of Servalan fame in BLAKE'S SEVEN), as the domineering Zafira.

HEXAGORA was adapted from a storyline called HEX, which was developed by Peter Ling and Hazel Adair and first commissioned by the BBC back in July 1983, though for various reasons it did not progress beyond the basic outline stage. Suffice to say that this modern version, though true to several of the original concepts, is significantly different in many other ways.

One thing I hung onto defiantly was the quasi-romantic subplot, which originally was included to take advantage of Peter Davison being the first youthful looking Dr Who (though of course purists will remember that William Hartnell, who was one of the oldest, also enjoyed a flirtatious adventure in THE AZTECS, way back in 1964). In the modern age, with David Tennant's Doctor an out-and-out romantic hero, and Matt Smith the unwilling gooseberry in the Amy-Rory-Doctor ménage a trois, it probably doesn't seem that big a deal, though it certainly would have been back in the 1980s.

Anyway, if that doesn't ring your bell, not to worry - we've still got lashings of mystery, horror and high concept sci-fi to get you going. It all starts with the Tardis crew following a missing Earthling, possibly an alien abductee, to an uninhabited planet in another galaxy, and there, to their amazement, discovering an exact replica of Tudor London ... and I'm afraid that's as much as your getting at present. Producers aren't too keen on their writers releasing unofficial spoilers shortly before the product is actually released.

Hopefully though, there's enough in our little trailer to get your juices running.

Sex, violence and very hot pizza - suits me!

2011-09-20T04:43:00.000-07:00

With only one day to go before THE DEVIL’S ROCK gets its long awaited premiere in its native New Zealand, there's so much excitement down there that I’m damned sorry I’m currently on the other side of the world – director Paul Campion and star Gina Varela are, as we speak, doing an interview with TVNZ at Wright’s Hill Fortress, where many of the exteriors were filmed, while NZ’s TV1 and TV3 will be on the red carpet with the cast and crew at the premiere itself in Wellington.

Though I’m a Brit, I’m proud to have written the script for this New Zealand movie. Of course, originally I never knew it was going to be a New Zealand movie. That came about because Paul Campion, who has dual British and New Zealand nationality, found great interest down there when he was discussing the project with various potential financiers. And once the highly energised New Zealand film producer Leanne Saunders got hold of it, there was no stopping us.

It became a full New Zealand production, complete with New Zealand money, a New Zealand cast, New Zealand facilities, (incredible) new Zealand locations, and who else but those New Zealand-based pioneers of state-of-the-art FX and props, the WETA Workshop, already so famous for the visual miracles they worked on movies like LORD OF THE RINGS and KING KONG.

On the subject of which, the two on-set production stills I’ve included above display WETA technicians doing what they do best – touching up the grue.

To the left is undoubtedly a more aesthetically pleasing picture. You’ll need to forgive my vagueness here – as I said, I'm on the other side of the world at present – but this has something to do with New Zealand's own Hell Pizza chain, who’ve been doing their bit to promote the movie on the Island of the Long White Cloud. Whether this is supposed to be an actual representation of the devilishly sexy Gina Varela, I’m unsure, but the similarities are remarkable.

For the record, I received this image with an assurance from director Paul Campion that “Hell Wrath pizza with extra olives, jalapenos and anchovies with forked tongue double chillies is absolutely my favourite pizza in the world”. Don’t know about you guys, but that got my stomach juices churning.

I was also elated to see the movie’s latest review, via MORE HORROR. It is one of our best to date, and actually gives the writer quite a bit of credit, which certainly makes this a red-letter day when it comes to online reviews. Check out these enjoyable quotes:

The Devil's Rock is a great example of what can be achieved with a great script and a low budget. This is a very tight and claustrophobic film with some great performances from the leads. Paul Finch has produced an excellent script that captures what I think a film about Nazis and demons should be.

In an era when almost every other horror movie is a major dumbfest or a reworking of an older film, it was great to sit and watch an intelligent film that didn’t treat the audience as if it was comprised solely of prepubescent teenage boys.

Speaking as a serious film-writer (as well as a prepubescent boy) that’s the sort of review I like.

I hope the film’s premiere goes as well down in New Zealand as it did in Britain, and that as many get to see it in the cinemas as they did in Canada at the Fantasia Film Festival.

All I can say is that THE DEVIL’S ROCK has been an absolute blast. Not just working on it, but experiencing the excitement and the unique atmosphere of a movie release – which, when it’s a movie you were at the heart of, really takes you to another plain.

I don’t think I’m breaking too much of a confidence if I now reveal that we are engaged in serious discussions about THE DEVIL’S ROCK 2. As always, watch this space for more.

My first anthology as Editor - here it is!

2011-09-15T14:24:00.000-07:00

Well … I’ve been waiting with baited breath for several long months to announce this latest project. It is the first ever horror anthology edited by yours truly.

It’s called TERROR TALES OF THE LAKE DISTRICT, and it will be available to pre-order from the tireless GRAY FRIAR PRESS from tomorrow afternoon (Saturday, 17th September).

For those of you who don’t know the UK, the Lake District is a wild, mountainous region in northwest England, famous for its astonishing scenery: towering crags and ridges, and deep, majestic lakes. It is one of the most popular holiday destinations in the whole of Britain, particularly for climbers, hikers, campers and yachtsmen. But some corners of it are extremely remote and even now in the 21st century remain wreathed in superstition and rural mystery. The above cover, which comes to us courtesy of artist Steve Upham, illustrates one such spooky legend – Tom Fool, the demonic jester of Muncaster Castle.

Here, for your interest, is the official back-cover blurb:

The Lake District – land of mountains and megaliths, night-black lakes and fathomless woods filled with spectral mist …

The eerie entity on Striding Edge
The living corpse of Croglin
The demented clown of Muncaster
The winged horror of Langdale
The drowned bride of Windermere
The hairy brute of Beetham
The nightmares on Burnmoor

And many more chilling tales by Ramsey Campbell, Adam Nevill, Simon Clark, Peter Crowther, Reggie Oliver, Gary McMahon and other award-winning masters and mistresses of the macabre.

The book contains ten works of original horror fiction set in the Lake District, and three classic reprints. It also features numerous anecdotal tales concerning supposedly true incidents of Lakeland terror.

In case your appetites haven’t been whetted enough, here is the full table of contents:

Little Mag’s Barrow by Adam L.G. Nevill
The Mad Clown of Muncaster
The Coniston Star Mystery by Simon Clark
The Croglin Vampire
Devils of Lakeland by Paul Finch
The Mumps Hall Murders
The Moraine by Simon Bestwick
The Tawny Boy
The Claife Crier by Carole Johnstone
The Monster of Renwick
Jewels in the Dust by Peter Crowther
The Devil’s Hole
Above the World by Ramsey Campbell
Nightmares of Burnmoor
The Jilted Bride of Windermere by Gary Fry
The Horror at Carlisle Castle
Walk the Last Mile by Steven Savile
The Poltergeist of Walla Crag
Framed by Peter Bell
Fiend’s Fell
Night of the Crone by Anna Taborska
The Tortured Souls of Lord’s Rake
Along Life’s Trail by Gary McMahon
The Black Hound of Shap
Striding Edge by Reggie Oliver

I can’t thank these authors enough for their efforts, not to mention Steve Upham, whose artwork is astonishing, Gary Fry of Gray Friar Press, who has been hugely supportive and helpful throughout, and Steve Lockley for his advice.

This project has been a year in the making and, as such, is very close to my heart. It wasn’t entirely hitch-free, but this is the first anthology I’ve created on my own, and hopefully it won’t be the last. In fact, at the risk of running before my horse to market, I would like this to be the first volume in a brand new series of regionally-themed British horror fiction, but of course we must at least break even with this first book before we can proceed with my other plans. So you guys know what you need to do – get ordering! (You won’t be disappointed).

Come ye all for the midnight movie special

2011-09-15T00:10:00.000-07:00

Anyone attending FANTASYCON this year who has not yet seen THE DEVIL’S ROCK, will get their chance on Friday September 30th in a special 'Midnight Movie' presentation (starting at 11.50pm).

I will be in attandence, and afterwards will be hosting a special Q&A session. It's going to be a late one, obviously, but hopefully that won't put folk off. It had better not do, actually, given that I've seen the bar-side action at FANTASYCON drag on until six in the morning sometimes.

The Con is to be held at the Royal Albion Hotel, Brighton, and runs from September 30th until October 2nd.

This aside, the movie, which gets its New Zealand premiere at the Roxy Cinema, Wellington, on Setpember 21st (and will then be appearing all around the country, courtesy of the READING CINEMA chain) seems to be going from strength to strength.

I've included a couple more stills to whet your appetites.

Top: Full florid occult horror, as Meyer and Grogan seek to protect themselves against the gathering forces of evil.

Left: A passage in the bunker - admit it, you wouldn't want to go down there either.

The reviews are still, largely, complimentary.

HOLLYWOOD BITCHSLAP says of us:

Paul Campion and his co-writers have a great deal of fun with the classic "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" scenario, which is a good thing - a feature-length movie confined to a few rooms where you can count the important characters on one-hand needs suspense more than anything else, and Campion's smart about it, cranking the tension up high to start and then finding ways to move the needle on the pressure gauge as much as he can as the movie goes on ...

So there you go. Want to see what all the fuss is about? Get your backsides down to the Royal Albion at midnight on September 30th (obviously you will need to be an official attendee at the convention to be allowed admittance).

And now for something completely different.

Here, I present for your delectation a brief gallery of some eerie images of the Lake District, that wild and mountainous corner of northwest England which is more wreathed in mystery and rural superstition than almost any other part of the UK.

Why, you may be asking, am I doing this, and what relevance does it have to the normal business of this blog? Well basically, that's for me to know and you to find out. All I will say is that, in presenting this gallery, I'm warming you all up for something exciting. So watch this space very carefully indeed. At some point soon, the news will break.

Castlerigg Stone Circle at dawn. (I don't know who the photographer is responsible for this fine shot, but if he or she wants to get in touch, I'll happily give them a credit).

Blencathra in ominous mood - does it know any other? (Photo by Adhemarius).

Claife Station, Windermere - trust me, you do NOT want to go there at night. (Photo by Stephen Dawson).

THE DEVIL'S ROCK - in a different sense!

2011-09-08T01:00:00.001-07:00

Well, it's not very often that anything I've written gets the rock band treatment, but 2011 is turning into a year of firsts for all kinds of reasons at present, most of them connected with my new movie, THE DEVIL’S ROCK, (pictured above).

Now, indie band, DECORTICA (pictured below), have got in on the act as well. Their latest music video, EROS, incorporates lots of footage from the movie, as you will see if you follow the link. Please do, because these guys are well worth checking out regardless of how feel about horror films.

THE DEVIL’S ROCK, which was released in the UK in April, and made its North American debut at the Fantasia Festival last month, is now only a few days away from release in its native New Zealand. September 22nd is the official date, so that's something for all you Kiwi horror buffs to keep a check on.

Below are a few more pics, these taken last summer when Paul Campion, the movie's director, Matt Sunderland, one of the its stars, and my good self, visited MP4, the German range-finding and observation tower in Guernsey, which provided us with the blueprint for the desolate Channel Islands bunker in which all our devilish goings-on occur.

First up: no, it's not a model - that's me as we approach MP4 along the spectacular coastline.

Left - we arrive outside the gloomy edifice. Below, Matt and I take up position inside the tower's viewing gallery.

It was a bright sunny afternoon, as you can tell, but I wouldn't have liked to visit one of these places in the dead of night. They are isolated and have a distinctly spooky aura.

Thanks to Paul Campion for these photos. More to follow in due course.

The Devil is not mocked; not in this review

2011-09-03T03:50:00.000-07:00

This is such a nice review of THE DEVIL’S ROCK that I'm here reprinting it in full. I trust that Kyle Scott of HORROR HOTEL won't mind, but if he does, he can always give me a shout and I'll take it down.

Enjoy this one. I did

Hands up those of you who don't get giddy at the idea of a Horror movie dealing with Nazis and the occult. Anyone? Didn't think so. These two concepts are as endlessly fascinating today as they were when Micheal Mann directed THE KEEP, or when good old Indiana Jones was tackling the bastards back in RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK and THE LAST CRUSADE. There is something inherently attractive about such a dark subject matter, even when it's handled lightly, as in the Indiana Jones films. It's widely known that Hitler had a compulsion towards the occult, and took the whole thing very seriously, adding an element of reality to any film that focuses on the subject. Sure it's all fanciful stuff, but viewers often find themselves asking that most eternal of all Horror fans internal questioning. What if?

'What if' the Nazis really managed to invoke the 'Old Gods' as they do is HELLBOY? 'What if' they managed to create immortal super soldiers like that crazy fucker in BLOOD CREEK? 'What if' they could create dimensional rifts and bring about the apocalypse with the help of demonic forces as in WOLFENSTIEN? It's rich food for thought. And it's fun to play these games in our heads. I'm sure we all do it. Has anyone ever watched Romero's DAWN OF THE DEAD, and not placed themselves directly into the action, creating scenarios for themselves and daydreaming about all the mischief they'd get up to? Maybe there're people who haven't, but I don't trust those people, and neither should you.

Imagining a world run by occultist Nazis is pretty frightening stuff. It's dark fantasy that holds just the tiniest thread of credibility to it, making any novel or film that deals with the subject a very attractive way to spend a few hours, for most Horror fans at least. More often that not the results are mundane, or lacking a certain depth or darkness. Perhaps the film doesn't take itself too seriously, (see RAIDERS, DEAD SNOW and HELLBOY), and while still a great deal of fun, it doesn't explore the possibilities to any real extent. Or perhaps it's just sort of shit, like, well theres too many to mention really, but you get the idea.

THE DEVILS ROCK, thankfully, falls into the very sparse category inhabited by only a very few, (THE BUNKER, OUTPOST), choice films...the straight faced, no-nonsense look at occultism. By treating its subject with respect, and by remaining stoically serious about itself, it manages to pull off some pretty effective scares. The film has been described by some as 'Saw with Nazis' and other such shit, but those sort of cheap statements really don't do it any justice. Yes, it has a very small cast, (four characters in total), and it mostly takes place in one dank, dark and foreboding location; but this is far removed from any pretense towards 'torture porn'. Rather, it feels like a smaller, more graphic take on THE DEVIL RIDES OUT. There is plenty of devilish juiciness in here to keep satanic panic aficionados happy, and it runs a good race in terms of ritualism, occult symbolism and theological food for thought.

Fans of the original TWILIGHT ZONE series may well note some similarities to an episode, (one of my favorites), called THE HOWLING MAN, in which a traveller may or may not be faced with the presence of Lucifer himself. This has a similar feel, employing sound design and misdirection in the first half to keep the viewer guessing. It works well while it lasts, before giving way to full on devilish mayhem. You'll know from the start where this is going (mostly due to the seriously fucking awful DVD cover which gives the game away. Thanks for that, dickheads), but it's solid storytelling and it pulls you along for the ride nicely.

The three main characters are also played very well, and have a great chemistry. Essentially, these three are fascinating to watch and are very well written. The film would fall apart were the people we're sharing the experience with either one-note characters or acted poorly. I should add that the performances are all brilliant. The cast gives it their all and each vastly different personality compliments the others. Mathew Sunderland plays the bad guy Col Meyers, a high level Nazi sent by Hitler to experiment with the occult on the Channel islands, and is at times an almost sympathetic character. His accent is clearly not German, but it's easy to overlook this, given the strength and depth of his overall performance. Craig Hall is brilliant as always as the morally driven commando, Captain Grogan whose past has left him devastated, driving him to do as much good as he can for others. And last but not least, the beautiful Gina Verela plays, 'Helena' with a potent mix of cunning, burning sexuality, sadistic glee and lethal manipulation. These three are so good, and the story is so strong and well realised, that the film flies by. And leaves you wanting more.

The effects work is stellar, not surprising considering Paul Campion, this film's Director, is a veteran of Weta Digital. And we all know who those guys are, don't we? For any newcomers, think 'Smeagol'. Paul work here is simply brilliant, and while this is a low budget production, you won't notice it for a second. The exteriors are morbidly beautiful, the gore is plentiful and gut churning in its realism, and the makeup effects are startling, not to mention scary as hell. Take note, James Wan, this is what a demon should look and feel like, not Darth Maul.

Campion impresses just as much in the director's chair as he does in the effects department. The film maintains a high level of suspense and dread for the entire running time, and the cat and mouse play between the three characters is captured brilliantly. He wisely avoids moments of humour, and while constantly gore-filled, the film never falls into exploitation. There're very few shots in here where you won't be witness to some unrecognizable bloody pulp, whether in foreground, background or right up close, but it serves to heighten the atmosphere of hellish goings on, not undermine it or detract from it.

If you're in the mood for a dark, serious take on occult Nazism, plenty of weird ritualistic mayhem and some solid drama, gore and suspense, you could do a lot worse than THE DEVIL'S ROCK. I loved every minute of it. It's a real gem of a film that should find its audience over time and get the love it deserves. It's not gonna change lives or bust the horror world wide open, but its a damn fun and engaging ninety minutes. And any film that has the balls to emulate the work of the great Rod Serling and not only avoid embarrassment, but actually compliment his work, is alright by me. And most likely it'll be alright by you too. Check it out.

Well ... that was okay, wasn't it. I love those words:

It's a real gem of a film that should find its audience over time and get the love it deserves.

My thoughts too. At some point I may get the love I deserve, but as writer of THE DEVIL’S ROCK I'm quite happy to share any that may get directed at the movie.

Pictured above and below are a few more stills. Topside, a demonic feast gets underway - and this is only a minor devil, so imagine being at table with a major player. Below, in descending order: Matt Sunderland, who plays Meyer, starts to realise the depth of his mistake in summoning the forces of darkness; Luke Hawker, who plays Muller, has had just about as much as he can take; Jessica Smith is the fiendish Nicole; Kiwi commandoes, Craig Hall and Karlos Drinkwater, explore the cursed island; the bunker where everything happens; and lastly, back in the real world, director Paul Campion and star Gina Varela prepare to greet guests outside the Empire Cinema in Leicester Square, as part of the British Horror Film Festival.

For those interested, I'm pencilled in to do some kind of presentation on THE DEVIL’S ROCK at FANTASYCON 2011 in Brighton at the end of this month. As far as I'm aware, this means I introduce the movie and, afterwards, host a Q&A session. At least, this is my understanding. I haven't had any of this confirmed yet. Watch this space for more details.

Who reigns over this region of the dead?

2011-08-26T02:08:00.001-07:00

Check out THIS - a rather nifty YouTube trailer for my next novella, KING DEATH, which is due out in December from the excellent SPECTRAL PRESS, but can be ordered right now.

(Look to my earlier posts for the cover artwork; the trailer is by Mark West, who has done a very fine job indeed).

Without giving too much away, KING DEATH is set in England during the early 14th Century, a land utterly devastated by the Black Death - so be prepared for some scenes of blood-chillling horror drawn from that real-life catastrophe. But that's only the start of it. The supernatural is at work in this tale as well, not to mention plenty of human depravity.

I don't want to say any more, but in a time when all law, faith and culture have collapsed, who knows what may come slinking in to fill the void?

Nothing good, that's for sure.

For those not quite in the know, the Black Death first struck England in 1348, after ravaging much of Europe and Asia. It is still regarded as the most devastating pandemic in human history. In England alone, an incredible 70% of the population is believed to have perished. It wasn't just the peasantry who were affected. Kings died in their palaces, bishops in their cathedrals, and barons in their manor houses. Entire towns and villages were left bare of life ... except for the overpopulous black rats, who spread the illness in the first place, and are still the stuff of nightmares as we picture them swarming triumphant over piles of human corpses.

Not surprisingly for a superstitious age, there are many tales of terror associated with this disaster. Stories abounded that a poisonous black fog was drifting across the land, annihilating everything in its path. Witches and sorcerers were blamed. A gateway was said to have been opened to Hell. The plague was even portrayed in the form of a ...

But no. Enough spoilers. You need to buy the book to know more.

(The above image is a detail from Peter Bruegel's horrific masterpiece, THE TRIUMPH OF DEATH. It charts the advance of Death upon Man in general terms, though because it takes a distinctly medieval perspective, it is often depicted as an illustration of the Black Death).

Butchering a guy in the name of surgery

2011-08-23T15:40:00.000-07:00

Here's a picture which might intrigue a few movie fans. It's a on-set photo taken during the filming of the crude military operation that is performed in THE DEVIL’S ROCK.

Those who haven't seen the film yet (and shame on you!) will need know that one of the characters is shot but only wounded, and to save his life another one has to extricate the bullet from his gut with nothing more than a pair of tweezers and, it has to be said, very little good will. A recent poster on film-director Paul Campion's website described this moment as "the best bullet removal scene in the history of bullet removal scenes".

In other news re. THE DEVIL’S ROCK, I'm happy to report that the movie is currently sitting at no. 298 in the IMDB's ranking list (based on the most searches made on that colossal website), which means that, as things stand, we are being searched for more than Brad Pitt's forthcoming zombie epic WORLD WAR Z!

Here's the proof, below:

It's also worth reporting that the British Horror Film Festival are hosting a special screening of THE DEVIL’S ROCK at the Empire Cinema, Leicester Square, London on Tuesday 30th August at 9.15pm (tickets are priced £5 and can be booked online HERE). Both director Paul Campion and star of the film, Gina Varela, will be in attendance and will feature in a Q&A session afterwards. I wish I could join them. I was invited, but regretably - very regretably, I assure you - I'm not available on this occasion. But just to prove that I sometimes am, below is a shot of another Q&A which I did earlier in the year, in company with Paul Campion (left) and star of the film, Matt Sunderland (right).

Gina meanwhile has now become something of a celebrity on Wikifeet.com, a free collaborative site dedicated to the assessment of celebrity feet. The scene in the film where a barefoot Gina walks prettily along a nasty streak of blood has apparently got a few people salivating. Well ... it takes all sorts, I suppose. I could include a still taken from this part of the movie if I wanted, just to illustrate the point, but why should I? If the thought of this makes a few more of you want to go out there and rent or buy a copy, then I'd be bonkers to interfere.

Blood and vengeance from the Dark North

2011-08-23T01:43:00.000-07:00

Fancy a story about love, hatred, blood and revenge with a few flesh-tearing, bone-crushing monsters thrown in for good measure?

Course you do, otherwise you wouldn’t be on this blog, would you?

It’s not very often that I post information about my works in progress, but while ABADDON BOOKS are now happy to start promoting my next novel, DARK NORTH, I thought “Hell, why not drop a few hints myself?”

It’s part of the KNIGHTS OF ALBION series, which chart the adventures of those lesser known knights of the Round Table as they pursue personal quests in the mysteriously anachronistic but incredibly brutal and dangerous Dark Ages that the medieval poet and warrior Thomas Malory described in his vivid writings.

DARK NORTH focuses on Sir Lucan, the ‘Black Wolf of the North’, one of the more enigmatic and vengeful figures associated with Arthurian legend. Essentially he was a good guy, but he was only human too, and we humans are not always known for turning the other cheek when our plans and dreams are thwarted.

Here’s the official blurb as it currently appears on Amazon:

When King Arthur faces a challenge for his crown from the reinvigorated Roman Empire, he must call his supporters from every corner of the British Isles. One of these, Sir Lucan, the ‘Black Wolf of the North’, has more reason than most to join the coming campaign. Lucan's beautiful wife, Trelawna, hoping to lead a new, better life in Italy, absconded with a young Roman officer. Lucan, already a fierce warrior but now with tainted blood due to his battle with the Penharrow Worm, thus turns the mission into a bitter personal vendetta. His former squire, Alaric, soon comes to fear for his overlord's soul, but is more afraid still for the safety of Lady Trelawna, whom he always loved from a distance. Meanwhile, the Roman family Trelawna has fallen in with are the influential Malconi clan, and their matriarchal head is the sorceress Zenobia. She sees it as her motherly duty to stop Lucan with any demonic force she can summon ...

The above image is currently being used to promote the book, which will be launched next March, though this may not be the final cover art (even though I think it pretty well captures the mood). Put it this way, like most Arthurian texts, DARK NORTH, contains plenty of pageantry and romance, but it also takes a long, unstinting look at the grim reality of medieval warfare and the savagery of an unconquered land still riddled with nefarious pagan forces (not to mention the savagery required to finally bring it to heel).

Devils with devils damned - in Guernsey!

2011-08-18T08:58:00.000-07:00

"As if Man had not hellish foes enough besides, that day and night for his destruction wait!” - John Milton, Paradise Lost

I have absolutely no reason for making this latest post other than the self-indulgent delight I get from posting yet more stills from THE DEVIL’S ROCK.

Above, when man meets demon. Just think, this could be the fate that awaits a good number of us in the afterlife if we don’t start getting our act together.

Next, another horrible image – the movie’s much talked-about “German deep throat” scene. Not perhaps what many were expecting when they first heard that phrase. I suppose this second pic makes the movie look a little more like Saw With Swastikas, as a rather uncharitable critic once proclaimed it, but we’ve already had that argument. I repeat, this movie is not gore-orgraphy, but there’s no point pretending it isn’t gory. You can’t put on a devil’s banquet without mashing up a few humans in the process.

Below, some of those responsible for this witch's brew. Yours truly, the writer, is centre left. Far right is Paul Campion, the director. Far left is Matt Sunderland, one of the stars of the film, and centre right is Rob Moore, of BBC Guernsey, who interviewed us all on Channel Island TV, and did a damn good job of it too. We are pictured in front of yet another World War II relic on the island – the entrance to an underground complex, this one in St Peter’s Port, wherein Nazi forces nervously awaited an invasion that would never come.

More pix from Hell and stuff about 'Mist'

2011-08-17T00:39:00.000-07:00

Okay, I know the movie is now out and in the public domain, and that everyone has probably already seen it, but here are a few more stills from THE DEVIL’S ROCK, which I thought I’d publish for posterity.

The first one features Gina Varela slipping into transformation mode. The second one shows Nick Dunbar as a German soldier who has never been confronted with the sort of horror that he discovers in the Forau island bunker.

For those more interested in the mechanics of movie making, here are a couple of shots taken on set during production.

The first one shows director Paul Campion, lord of all he surveys, and makeup supervisor Davina Lamont at Wright’s Hill Fortress in Wellington, where we shot the exteriors.

The second one displays some frenzied activity in the gun-pit, with star Karlos Drinkwater in the background, and cinematographer Rob Marsh and cameraman Matt Tuffin to the fore.

On a slightly different, though I don't suppose it's a totally unrelated subject, one of my 2010 books of stories and novellas, both of which have made the final ballot in the British Fantasy Awards for 2010 (in the capacity of Best Collection), has been garnering some rather nice responses online.

WALKERS IN THE DARK was published by ASH-TREE PRESS in March last year, but as collections, anthologies of stories and so on tend to take a long time to be read in their fullness, only this year have I started to see regular extensive reviews, almost all of which, I’m glad to see, are positive.

This latest one comes from PAGE HORRIFIC, and is probably the most fulsome I’ve had yet. In fact I like it so much that I’m reprinting it in full, below.

One of the stories it singles out for particular praise is SEASON OF MIST, which I’m very pleased by as the reviewer, James Carroll (who is not known to me, I swear), correctly surmises that this is one of the most personal stories I’ve ever written; it is indeed, as Mr. Carroll says, semi-autobiographical – a couple of the people who in real life actually shared this experience with me have been in touch since the book was published, to talk about it, so it’s nice to know that I kind of hit the nail on the head.

Anyway, enough flowery prose from me. Those who aren’t fans of self-promotion, avert your eyes now (though these are James Carroll's words, not mine):

WALKERS IN THE DARK by Paul Finch
Lancashire native Paul Finch is yet another great writer who I’ve only recently discovered even though he’s been around for years, and this wonderfully dark and evocative collection blends supernatural horror and modern life with remarkable effect.

A young man travels to the Scottish Highlands in search of a missing woman only to become caught up in sinister events involving her Father’s new family and a jilted suitor in "The Formless". This dark tale of love and revenge is also an original take on the classic story of Macbeth which will have others writers wondering why they didn’t think of it first.

Up next is the novella length "Season Of Mist", one of the most stunning coming of age stories I’ve yet encountered. When children begin turning up dead after being violently beaten by a mysterious figure, a young boy and his friends attribute the murders to a local legend; the malignant spirit of a dead miner who is said to haunt an abandoned colliery. This tale of a young boy struggling with childhood fears and his newfound desire for an older woman is also a semi-autobiographical story based on Finch’s youth spent roaming the gutted wastelands of England’s industrial northwest, a world he describes in the kind of intimate detail that can only come from personal experience.

In "Fathoms Green And Noisome", a group of crypto-zoologists set out to explore an isolated lake in the Welsh mountains in search of a mythical creature only to discover that the real danger is among themselves. Finch conjures some astonishingly vivid imagery here and it’s testament to his skill as a storyteller that I was completely drawn into the reality of this monster hunt. My only complaint is that after such an intense build up I felt the ending was something of an anti-climax. Nevertheless, this was another superb story.

"Golgotha Way" has a war veteran become increasingly unhinged after a local cenotaph is desecrated and his fallen comrade appears to return from the dead. This is the shortest story in the collection but one of the most poignant, the view point shifting between horrific scenes from World War II and the present, as the veteran relives the pain and guilt of leaving his friend to die in order to save himself.

The most powerful tale however, is saved till last. "Walkers In The Dark" is an outstanding novella that blends dark age myth and history with modern day adventure when four students go in search of Viking treasure beneath a condemned monastery. This is absolutely riveting stuff, and to apply a simple label to it, or indeed to any of these stories, would be a great injustice.

This is imaginative fiction at its finest, and these highly atmospheric tales of haunted lives and innocence lost, transcend genre boundaries and ultimately defy classification.

"War is a bitch" - the grindhouse factor!

2011-08-15T06:29:00.000-07:00

The general consensus thus far seems to be that most people have enjoyed THE DEVIL'S ROCK.

You always get one or two who dissent – inevitably there will be someone who deserves to be led out to an icy, wolf-infested wilderness and abandoned naked – but overall most folk who’ve put their views online or in the movie press appear to appreciate the blood and sweat we shed (well … blood mainly, as those who’ve seen the movie will attest) in bringing this wartime horror to the screen.

BRITISH FANTASY SOCIETY reviewer, Mike Chinn, gives us a nice thumbs-up: “Overall, a film that works very well within its limitations. Recommended.”

Cheers for that, Mike.

And FEARNET.COM, who saw the movie at the Fantasia Film Festival in Montreal, were fulsome in their praise: “Overall, a strong first effort from Campion (Paul Campion, the director) and his team, and one wouldn't be surprised to see them do twice as much damage on their next one.”

Nice one, FN.

However, it wouldn’t be true to say there hasn’t been some controversy en route. A recent storm in a teacup has broken over the promotional poster for the New Zealand release of the movie this coming autumn.

The poster is pictured above and shows star Gina Varela in the sort of guise that might have been more appropriate accompanying a 1970s exploitation flick like SS Experiment Camp.

It certainly creates a sleazy ‘grindhouse’ aura, which I don’t think is representative of the actual movie, though it has to be admitted that sex and violence are key components of THE DEVIL'S ROCK and hey, who am I to question the distributors? Clearly in this case they’ve decided to try to appeal to the young male audience, whereas in the UK there seemed to be more of an effort to sell the movie’s occult factor.

I suppose this underlines what is one of the best kept secrets in horror, namely that within the H community there exist many sub-genres, not to mention varying standards of taste; some horror fans - several of whom have been active on Facebook on this matter since the NZ poster appeared - clearly aren't impressed by the grimier, more lurid adventures that have been submitted to celluloid.

But at the end of the day, who can second-guess what people are attracted to? And there's no denying that, like it or not, the NZ poster is pretty damn eye-catching.

We must assume that everyone has researched their own demographic. There's no possibility that these chaps and chappesses employed in movie distribution don't know what they’re doing, otherwise they wouldn’t be in the lucrative business they’re in.

To walk among giants (and a few devils)

2011-08-08T15:15:00.000-07:00

I have some more anthology news today.

I'm proud to say that I'll shortly be appearing with a number of other authors in FULL FATHOM FORTY, a specially commissioned collection of short stories and poems, edited by David Howe, to be published in celebation of the British Fantasy Society's 40th anniversay (and free to all members).

I'm proud to boast that I've been a member of the BFS since 1994, and in that time I've made some very good friends, and have been introduced to, influenced by and fortunate enough to work with some of the best and most creative horror, sci-fi and fantasy people in the UK, not to mention quite a few Stateside and in Canada as well. (The BFS isn't exclusively a British membership).

The new book will certainly be a collectors' item - not just because it contains FULL CIRCLE, a new story by yours truly, but because it comprises 500 pages of weird and fantastical fiction, much of it original. Check out this impressive list of contributors:

Nina Allan; Suzanne Barbieri; Carl Barker; Mike Barrett; Ramsey Campbell; Jonathan Carroll; Adrian Chamberlin; Simon Clark; Raven Dane; Jan Edwards; Murray Ewing; Paul Finch; Christopher Fowler; Matthew Fryer; Stephen Gallagher; Cate Gardner; R.B. Harkess; Ian Hunter; Wilf Kelleher Jones; Jasper Kent; Joel Lane; Stephen Laws; Mark Lewis; Alison J Littlewood; Steve Lockley; Graham Masterton; Peter Mark May; Geoff Nelder; Kim Newman; Stan Nicholls; Martin Owton; Cas Peace; John Llewellyn Probert; Tina Rath; Steven Savile; Robert Shearman; Jim Steel; Sam Stone; Deborah Walker; Conrad Williams.

Meanwhile THE DEVIL'S ROCK appears to be continuing to capture the interest of horror fandom.

BLOODY-DISGUSTING.COM, in my opinion one of the best and most informative horror websites in the world, calls the film: "A satisfying little movie that’s a perfect rental on one of those boring Sunday nights".

While THE HORROR CLUB is even more lavish in its praise, saying: "There's really nothing about this film that is lacking. The story is great, the atmosphere is tense and creepy, and there's a good amount of blood and gore. Something about creepy movies set in bunkers always seems to work. Nazi bunkers, even better."

Nice, eh?

Anyway here are couple more video-grabs from the movie, featuring Gina Varela managing to look both alluring and devilish, while HERE is a link to a video shot by the movie's director, Paul Campion, when he, Gina and one of the film's other stars, Matt Sunderland, attended the North American premiere in Montreal, as guests, and were taken aback - to say the least - by the size of the audience.

Lots of people now want us to make a sequel. Well, all I can promise at this stage is that we'll talk about it ...

Just be thankful you didn't live back then!

2011-08-04T01:14:00.000-07:00

"In the centre of one village there was a timber chapel with a thatched roof. Its front door stood open on blackness, from which came a monstrous buzzing of flies. Rodric didn’t need to enter to know what he would find in there: bodies piled seven or eight deep; when all else failed, holy sanctuary would have been the only place left where the dying wretches could imagine they’d find solace or comfort, or – laughably, he now realised – refuge."

Hopefully that nasty little nugget will whet all your appetites for KING DEATH, my new novella from SPECTRAL PRESS, the amazing cover to which, courtesy of artist Neil Williams, is posted above.

I won't say too much for fear of giving things away, but KING DEATH is a full-on horror story set in my beloved Middle Ages, fourteenth century England to be precise, and it takes us to a world so ravaged by disaster and despair that the dividing line between normality and deranged fantasy has quite literally collapsed - which, it won't surprise you to learn, is not to the dissatisfaction of everyone.

The book is only officially available from December 6th, but I hear that orders and subscriptions are being placed at a rate of knots, so if you're interested in getting hold of this, it's advisable to get in there quickly.

Meanwhile, if you can spare me a personal moment (yes I know, another one) my script for THE DEVIL'S ROCK has received it's most fulsome praise to date in advance of the movie's offical premiere in North America at the Fantasia Film Festival, Montreal. An article on SPECTACULAR OPTICAL refers to it in the following terms: "An admirably smart and talky piece that doesn’t use dialogue exclusively to trot out plot elements or backstory, as is all too common in historical horror films. The ongoing faceoff between Captain Grogan and SS Officer Klaus Meyer is defined by rich character work and sparking dialogue".

What more can I say, except that I agree with every word.

On the subject of new releases, the 8th BLACK BOOK OF HORROR, of which I'm proud to be part, is now officially available, or will be imminently, from MORTBURY PRESS and all the other usual places, such as Amazon etc. I have to promote this one, as it's not too often that a book is published with an image of your severed head on the cover.

Demonik, who rules his excellent website VAULT OF EVIL with a rod of critical iron, appears to be suitably impressed. He apparently read the whole anthology within two days of receiving it and has described it as "a monsterpiece". (For the full TOC on 8BBH, check back a few posts on this blog).

On the back of a great holiday in sun-kissed Guernsey and a chance to explore at first hand the German fortifications that I wrote about in THE DEVIL'S ROCK, this has been a pretty good week so far. All I need now is a PA who'll work for nothing, to sort out the mountain of paperwork that always seems to build up in my office when I'm out of it for more than a couple of days.

The island where a devil fought demons

2011-08-03T00:45:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm finally back from my holiday on sun-soaked Guernsey in the southern English Channel, much of which time I spent in the company of my lovely family and friends, but some of which I also dedicated to exploring the archaeological remnants of the island's Nazi occupation, which of course was the basis for my most recent horror movie, THE DEVIL'S ROCK, in the company of its director, Paul Campion, and one of its stars, Matt Sunderland.

For those interested, HERE is a TV interview done with us all on BBC Guernsey last week.

Thanks must also go to CINEGUERNSEY for arranging the special screening of the movie, which was massively and enthusiastically attended, and for the Q&A session following - Paul, Matt and I all felt it was one of the best ones we've done so far, with non-stop intelligent questions taking us well past our allocated time.

Pictured below, Paul Campion (left), Matt Sunderland (middle) and my good self (in a somewhat inappropriate Dad's Army t-shirt) in the gun-pit whose design we used for the movie, and where a full-size German howitzer is still in place.

I've visited Guernsey and Jersey several time before when I was a child, but it never struck me until this last time round just how alive the memories of World War Two still are on these small, apparently insignificant resort islands, particularly Guernsey, which Hitler was convinced would be the staging post for an Allied invasion of occupied Europe.

Subsequently, between 1940 and 1945, entire battalions of German troops were based here, and the glorious coastlines were studded with concrete watch towers, bunkers and gun installations. Most of these are still intact and can be visited free of charge, while the island's many museums recount those dark days in unstinting detail and display a wealth of memorabilia.

Ultimately, on June 6th 1944 the Allied invasion struck Normandy's beaches directly, and the Channel Islands - though it meant they were doomed to remain under the jackboot for another 11 months - were spared the horrors of heavy bombardment and close-quarter fighting that were necessary to breach Hitler's Atlantic Wall. The actual liberation of Guernsey occurred on May 9th 1945 without a shot being fired, and it is still celebrated by the islanders with a special public holiday and a crisp home-brewed beer, Liberation Ale, of which I'd be lying if I said I hadn't sampled a few jars over the last week or so.

Anyway, here are some more relevant pix from last week.

First up, I investigate one of the former tunnel complexes, which has now become a museum. Those who've now seen the movie will (I hope) note a not-entirely-accidental resemblance to the tunnels through which star of the THE DEVIL'S ROCK , Craig Hall, was stalked by his demonic nemesis.

Below that, my son, Harry (right) and his mate, Sam, (left) join me at yet another well-defended embrasure. When I say these German strongpoints are well preserved, I mean it - all of these guns looked as if they could actually still fire.

Meanwhile, THE DEVIL'S ROCK roadshow continues to travel, and has now, finally, hit the North American continent, as it opens this week at the Fantasia Movie Festival in Montreal. Sadly, I couldn't attend that one, but Paul Campion (the director), and stars Matt Sunderland, Gina Varela and Karlos Drinkwater will all be in attendance.

Pictured below, in descending order: I join Paul Campion, Matt Sunderland and Gina Varela at the London premiere of the movie, in Soho; Matt and Gina do the red carpet stuff in Montreal; and Paul delivers his expert lecture on the film's special effects at Bournemouth University.

Zombie Apocalypse heads for Hollywood

2011-07-20T11:03:00.000-07:00

The Stephen Jones-edited anthology / mosaic novel, ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE, which I was honoured to be part of last year, providing the novella Special Powers, may now get the Hollywood treatment, having been optioned for movie development by Palomar Pictures.

Now, it's always exciting to get a flm option. It's even more exciting to get a Hollywood film option (though I currently have one of those for a different project - and thus far, many months down the line, nothing at all has happened, so it pays not to get too excited). However, it's no surprise to me that ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE is being discused in swish offices down in Burbank.

Despite a plethora of zombie-related material currently doing the rounds, there seems to be no shortage of interest from the Dream Factory on the subject of the shambling dead. Recent productions alone run into double figures, Diary Of The Dead, The Horde, The Walking Dead and The Dead being some of the better known examples (you could even count my own STRONGHOLD - though that movie's only in development; it hasn't actually been made yet). So I'm fairly confident that ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE, which has to date sold 13,000 copies, has at least a reasonable chance of hitting our screens sometime in the near future.

I certainly hope so as I think that, from a writer's point of view as well as a reader's, it was a fascinating new take on the reanimated flesh subgenre - charting the progress of a new kind of Black Death as it emerges from a London crypt, swamps Britain's capital, later swamps Britain and then swamps the rest of the world. The other authorial names involved in the original book display the genuine quality that was brought to this project from the beginning: Michael Marshal Smith, Chris Fowler, Kim Newman, Sarah Pinborough, Tanith Lee and Peter Crowther, among many others, all have their say on the matter.

At the end of the day, I'm not holding my breath about this one - as I never hold my breath about any potential film adaptation, but if it was given the right movie or TV treatment, ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE could be something really special.

Meanwhile THE DEVIL'S ROCK continues to roll.

I'll shortly be attending a special screening and Q&A session with the film's director, Paul Campion, over in Guernsey, the island where the movie is actually set. That will be a great night, while the trip should also give my family and I a few opportunities to incorporate into our holiday snaps some of those grim sentinel bunkers that the Nazis erected on the island's coast to defend themslves against an invasion that would never come.

If anyone's actually watched THE DEVIL'S ROCK on the DVD yet, you'll see on 'the making of' documentary that these places can be quite eerie at night. Pauil Campion spooked himself visiting a few of them after dark.

The reviews have continued to pile up as well, and I've managed to glean a few fun soundbites out of them.

The Guardian called us "a refreshingly odd wartime horror".

Mitch Davis at Fantasia compliments our cast for "a trio of borderline Shakespearean performances that captivate with hellish power".

(They could hardly fail with a script like that one, Mitch).

While Theresa Derwin of Terror Tree comments: "The Devil’s Rock is a fine film and deserves more than it's limited cinema release. Apologies if it doesn’t have enough innards for torture porn freaks. This film is a must for occult fans and fans of classic horror with an emphasis on story."

That's it for now. Sorry there hasn't been much activity on this blog in recent days. That's because there's been an awful lot of activity on other fronts. But I'm not complaining. It's always good to have a lot of work. The alternative could be having none at all.

New Black Book of Horror on horizon

2011-07-12T15:36:00.000-07:00

The cover art and Table of Contents for THE EIGHTH BLACK BOOK OF HORROR (pictured) is now available for your perusal.

I'm pleased (and very honoured) to say that I have a story in there. However this blog has never just been about me (honest). The full list of contributors is as follows:

QUIETA NON MOVERE - Reggie Oliver
THE LAST COACH TRIP - David A. Riley
HOME BY THE SEA - Stephen Bacon
BOYS WILL BE BOYS - David Williamson
BEHIND THE SCREEN - Gary Fry
THE OTHER TENANT - Mark Samuels
TOK - Paul Finch
LITTLE PIG - Anna Taborska
CASUALTIES OF THE SYSTEM - Tina & Tony Rath
HOW THE OTHER HALF DIES - John Llewellyn Probert
MUSIC IN THE BONE - Marion Pitman
THE COAL-MAN - Thana Niveau
MEA CULPA - Kate Farrell

For those who aren't aware, the BLACK BOOKS OF HORROR are edited by Charles Black and published by MORTBURY PRESS.

In terms of style, they basically fill the yawning gap left in genre fiction when the Pan Horror and Fontana Horror anthology series expired. In other words they contain well-written material, but are less interested in being literary and more concerned with frightening or, at the very least disturbing their readership.

To date, the series has introduced the world to such modern horror classics as AMYGDALA by David Sutton, FAMILY TIES by Steve Lockley and Paul Lewis, TWO FOR DINNER by John Llewellyn Probert, and MINOS OR RHADAMANTHUS by Reggie Oliver.

Check one of these volumes out some time. You won't be disappointed.

PS: Before anyone asks, yes, the cover art depicts all the contributing authors' heads severed and left in the sort of neat little pile that Madame Tussaud would have cheerfully documented during la Grande Terreur.

Ready for your dose of television poison?

2011-07-11T01:34:00.000-07:00

Horror is not normally part of the UK television schedule unless it's the screening of a movie. There is more activity in the 2000s than there used to be in the 1990s thanks to the recent importation of US shows like FRINGE and SUPERNATURAL, but we in Britain can boast precious little home-grown horror TV, particularly if you prefer your H to be delivered in anthology or 'portmanteau' format.

However, this wasn't always the case. Back in an era I'm increasingly seeing as 'the good old days' - the late 1960s through the 1970s and into the 1980s - we were blessed with a plethora of made-for-TV British horror which rarely pulled its punches in terms of gruesome or scary subject-matter.

Brian Clemens's THRILLER ran from 1973 to 1976, and offered us a range of sleazy and grisly tales in which the emphasis was placed firmly on disturbing or frightening the audience (and it almost always succeeded).

ARMCHAIR THRILLER, from Thames, appeared in 1978 and 1980, and featured scripts adapted from famous horror or crime stories. The BBC got in on the act in 1977 with SUPERNATURAL (no relation to the US show), which related stories from 'the Club of the Damned'.

One of the most well-known TV shows of this type, HAMMER HOUSE OF HORROR was first screened in 1980 and really pushed the boundaries of television scare-fare, not least in terms of production quality. Probably the best TV horror series of them all for sheer originality was Nigel Kneale's BEASTS; this was first broadcast in 1976 and delivered six free-standing stories, each one drawing terror from the animal world.

But there was one horror show back in that halcyon age, which would probably shock audiences even if it was screened today. In fact, so dark and disturbing were the concepts it investigated that it was very quickly pulled from the schedules and allegedly had its master-tapes wiped on the orders of TV bosses.

DEATH RATTLES was first screened late-night circa 1984, and was the child of a quite rebellious and counter-cultural era in British television. It presented us with a series of contemporary British horror stories, each one concerned primarily with ordinary people living humdrum lives. Yet they horror they experienced - mostly supernatural but not always so - was upsetting to the nth degree.

As with many famous horror films which have supposedly been so dark that their production and screening were plagued with mysterious problems - THE OMEN, THE WICKER MAN, THE EXORCIST being classic examples - DEATH RATTLES encountered difficulties from its outset. Stories abounded during its very low-budget production about nervous breakdowns among staff, unlikely accidents on set, and even hauntings in the studio. When it finally went to air, it was panned by even the most liberal critics for skimming the gutters of human experience.

Subsequently it was removed and almost all trace of it has now been erased from the archive. Rumours persist that rough copies were unofficially made, but I've never seen any, nor know anyone who has.

That's the bad news. The good news is that you can now experience some of the flavour of DEATH RATTLES as at least part of the anthology is shortly to be released in book-form (pictured top left), courtesy of Gray Friar Press.

Several months ago, I was honoured to be asked to transform one of the few surviving scripts into a novella (there wasn't very much of the script left, if I'm honest - so much of it had to be done from fogged memory). Several other masters and mistresses or horror were also approached to produce content, and the result is DEATH RATTLES the book.

I won't say too much more - except that the six novellas it contains are prose versions of six of the spookiest and most bizarre episodes in the series, that it is due out imminently and that it can be purchased HERE.

Just to whet your appetites a little more, here is a full Table of Contents:

Rattling Cages: an Introduction by Stephen Volk

Episode 1: Scattered Ashes - John Llewellyn Probert

Episode 2: Seen And Not Heard - Gary Fry

Episode 3: Antlers - Thana Niveau

Episode 4: The Children of Moloch - Simon Bestwick

Episode 5: Cow Castle - Paul Finch

Episode 6: His Father's Son - Gary McMahon

DEVIL'S ROCK crew face their own D-Day

2011-07-07T16:25:00.000-07:00

Okay ... so I arrived at the 20th Century Fox screening rooms in Soho Square on Wednesday evening with mixed feelings: pride - it's not everyday you get to see the London premiere of a movie you yourself have written; apprehension - because obviously you want the movie to wow its audince; and also giddy excitement - because it was a great thing to at last meet many of those involved in the production of THE DEVIL'S ROCK who previously I had only communicated with online, including two of the movie's stars - Matt Sutherland and Gina Varela - and producer Leanne Saunders, among lots of others.

This was an official 'Cast and Crew screening', but we weren't exclusively playing to a biased audience. Agents, film producers and other industry professionals were also present on invitation, so there was still the possibility that we could really blow it, that if we hadn't done our jobs properly people might get up and leave before the final credits. That's the thing you ultimately dread at these events.

Thankfully it didn't happen, and even more thankfully, after the lights had come up again everyone I spoke to had nothing but good words to say. Obviously you can never be 100% sure what people think, though none of these neutral guys and gals would have any reason to lie to me.

We all then adjourned to the Pillars of Hercules just down the road, and a good night was had by all.

So what did I think of it (never having seen it until this moment)?

Well, I lived and breathed the script over the Christmas period of 2009. I had to ignore the snow-storms raging outside, and transport myself back to the summer of 1944 and the eve of D-Day, and then weave into that historical reality the esoteric, the arcane and eventually the horrific. It was a fun but intense experience - and what we were about to see would be the final result. Naturally I was going to be as sympathetic to it as possible.

Okay yeah, those are the excuses out of the way - so what did I think about it?

Well I'm not going to say much, because at the end of the day what is my view worth? It's only the opinion of one person, and it's even less impportant in many ways as I'm obviously totally prejudiced towards the project. But put it this way, I was NOT disappointed.

It was also nice to come home again last night just in time to watch The Vue Film Show on Channel 4, and see a decent feature on the movie - including lots of nice excerpts, plus short interviews with Paul Campion, the director, and actor Matt Sutherland (HERE'S A LINK).

In fact, the programme singled out Sutherland for special praise; he plays Klaus Meyer, a colonel in the 'SS Germanorden', whose job it is to root out and utilise occult artifacts in the cause of the Third Reich - he was described as creating an intense and evil presence on camera (it was also rather pleasing to hear Matt talk about "the great dialogue" he had to work with - thanks, Matt).

On this subject, a lot of folk have actually asked us did this sort of thing really happen. Well, THE DEVIL'S ROCK is obviously fictional, but there is plenty of evidence to suggest that certain leading Nazis had a big interest in the war-winning potential of dark magic. Whether it was ever invoked or not we'll never know, but you've got to admit it makes for a great movie idea.

Anyway, thanks to all those on Wednesday night who made themselves known to me and were so complimentary on the script, and an extra special thanks to all those who worked so hard bringing this project to life and fashioning what I think is a very neat little piece of horror cinema.

It's now officially in the public domain, so we'll have to see what everyone else makes of it. Pictured above is the full cover of the new DVD release, which will be available on Monday.

Horror wrought in hard, brutal concrete

2011-07-04T15:41:00.001-07:00

Another few handful of positive reviews have appeared for THE DEVIL’S ROCK.

We are described variously as “an original gore-soaked delight” and “the best Kiwi horror since Peter Jackson’s ‘Braindead’” (Screen Jabber), “a gory horror, sure, but it doesn’t follow the same old hackneyed plots and its originality comes with some great tension and twists” (Every Film in 2011), and as “nasty and realistic enough to have you deserting the multiplex like an Army defector” (the Sunday Sport).

Total Film meanwhile reckons we have produced “a silly/creepy chamber piece that throws around intestines like sausages in a Punch and Judy show”. Just to maintain the high brow analysis in this latter review, the movie’s lady star, Gina Varela, is then referred as “a horny l’il devil”.

But hey, any publicity is good publicity as they say (sorry, Gina).

It’s a bit pointless posting the links to these reviews in full, as you can find them all on line easily enough by simply googling. Besides, more assessments should follow imminently as we had our official press screenings last night, so we’re all now waiting with baited breath (or should that be nervous gasps).

Meanwhile, SCREAM MAGAZINE will be doing a full feature on the movie in issue 6, which goes on sale on July 28th. That one may well be worth checking out.

Also for those who missed the brief blog I posted over the weekend, HERE is a teaser clip for the movie, a new one which most of you aren’t likely to have seen before.

Lastly, a little bit of factual background info on the movie. I’ve had my attention drawn to this excellent website, FESTUNG GUERNSEY, which details the German fortifications set up on the island during World War II. One of them – the most similar in appearance to the fictional gun emplacement we use in the movie – is pictured above.

These hideous chunks of concrete dot the otherwise pristine Channel Island coastlines, but no longer really serve as a reminder of tragedy, more of major historical events in which the Channel Islands played a leading role, and, as many of them are now open to the public, they make for some fascinating investigation. If you’re interested in the history and archaeology of World War II, FESTUNG GUERNSEY is certainly one of the places you should start.

First teaser clip for THE DEVIL'S ROCK

2011-07-01T07:32:00.000-07:00

Movie fans may be interested to know that a teaser clip from THE DEVIL’S ROCK has now been posted on YouTube. It's got basically everything you'd expect from a quality occult thriller - including lots of blood, lots of demonic mysticism and lots of candles that burn with evil, smoky flames.

Those interested, can watch the clip HERE.

I think it captures the atmosphere of the film rather nicely.

In another new development, I can now reveal the cinemas that will be screening the movie when it goes on release in the UK on July 8th. They are, as you’ll notice, exclusively part of the Apollo chain:

Apollo Altrincham
Apollo Burnley
Apollo Barrow
Apollo Redditch
Apollo Stroud
Apollo Torbay

Anyone who isn’t within striking range of one of those oh-so-lucky picture houses needn’t worry too much. The movie goes to VOD that same day, and will be available on DVD, under that rather cool cover that I referenced a couple of days ago, on July 11th.

To get a cinematic release is a huge boost for any new movie, even it doesn’t involve every theatre in the UK. It grabs press attention and can be a massive driver of the publicity machine, so though it’s a cheaper and more common route for many horror movies these days to go straight to DVD, I’m totally chuffed that we’re going to get some big screen exposure.

Believe it or not, I haven’t actually seen the finished movie yet. Cathy and I will be attending the special ‘Cast and Crew Screening’ in Soho, London, in the middle of next week, but the press screenings come a little earlier I think, so it looks as though plenty of people will have got to see THE DEVIL’S ROCK before its writer – but Hell, that doesn’t bother me. It all adds to the excitement.

First American screening for Devil's Rock

2011-06-29T14:38:00.001-07:00

THE DEVIL'S ROCK will have its first official screening on the North American continent at the Fantasia Film Festival in Montreal, which gets underway on July 15.

This is a pretty exciting development for us. Though the US and Canadian rights to the movie have already been sold, the North American landmass is a potentially colossal market, and as we want as many people to see the film as possible, we want the word to travel right across it.

In that respect, we couldn't really be in better comnpany at Fantasia. Look at some of the other movies that will be exhibiting there: Kevin Smith's RED STATE, the tale of a bunch of outcasts who fall victim to the worst kind of fundamentalism, and Robin Hardy's THE WICKER TREE, described as the 'spiritual sequel to the 1974 classic, THE WICKER MAN, not to mention sundry other fascinating-sounding forays into the world of movie terror.

We're defintiely in august company, and if THE DEVIL'S ROCK can hold its head up among contemporary motion pictures of that standard then we'll have done our job.

Director Paul Campion will be present at the Fantasia screening, along with stars of the film, Matt Sunderland and Karlos Drinkwater.

In related news, Paul Campion is interviewed at length on the GOREPRESS website.

It's the most in-depth interview that I've seen with Paul to date. He talks about the intensely detailed prep and research that we had to do to bring this movie to life, and how he handled the suicidally swift production schedule. He also heaps praise on all his staff, who were as professional as it was possible to be under such circumstances, and talks about one of our movie's most shocking moments, now being referred to in some online quarters as the "German Deep Throat". This was a scene I enjoyed writing very much, though apparently more than a few viewers have been horrified by it (well tough - it's a horror movie, ya know!).

But there's some good, informative stuff in there. For those interested in actually hearing Paul chat about the movie, you can tune into The Vue Film Show, Channel 4 on July 7th, 11.50pm, where he gives another interview.

If nothing else, it's worth listening to Paul because he knows what he's talking about. After all, he was schooled at the knee of one of the masters of modern cinema - Peter Jackson. It was quite an eye-opener for me, working through the script with him, and on occasion being told: "We can't afford to have a hand chopped off here. That would be too expensive. It costs five grand to chop off a hand, but only about two grand to chop off a finger and thumb. Can we keep the hand but lose the finger and thunb?"

Yep, that's the kind of surreal world I was living in while THE DEVIL'S ROCK was being born.

Anyway, those are the latest updates on the film, though folk may be interested to know that Paul Campion and I are now developing three other movies together, a horror, a thriller and a wartime actioner. In two cases the scripts are already written and all that remains to be settled is the money - you know, that famous bugbear of all creative artists who have the temerity to want to do this for a living? - but meetings in that regard will be kicking off next week, so fingers crossed (if they haven't been chopped off, that is).

It's always a delight to make the short-lists

2011-06-29T05:25:00.000-07:00

I’m completely delighted to be able to announce that three of my recent books have been short-listed for the British Fantasy Award for 2011.

In terms of workload, this is proving to be one of the toughest years I’ve had since becoming a full-time author in 1998. Quite frankly, I‘ve never had as many urgent projects to work on all at the same time.

On one hand that’s a good thing (it certainly beats being unemployed), but on the other – working all day and every evening, weekends included, can be an immense drag. I feel as if I’ve been slogging through some of these particular jobs forever. However, I'm under no illusions that there are many tougher occupations in the world (I used to work in one), and in my chosen field now the rewards can be great. To be recognised by your peers as having achieved something worthwhile within the genre, which is basically what the British Fantasy Awards boil down to, is one such - and a massive privilege.

So here’s the deal with the BFS shortlists.

There are various categories. You can heck them out in full, all finalist nominees included, HERE.

You'll see that SPARROWHAWK has been nominated in the ‘Best Novella’ group, and that both WALKERS IN THE DARK and ONE MONSTER IS NOT ENOUGH have been short-listed side by side for ‘Best Collection By A Single Author’.

Believe it or not, this is a slightly difficult situation – for various reasons. To start with, in both categories I’m competing against close friends and colleagues. Secondly, though it’s wonderful to have two nominations in a single category, there is the inevitable possibility that it may ‘split my vote’ so to speak.

But what the Hell … these things happen. And it could be a lot worse. I could have no nominations at all. It’s just very gratifying to see three of what I consider to be my best books to date getting a little bit of positive attention.

SPARROWHAWK probably needs no introduction to anyone, not least because I focussed on it on this blog only last week, when a very decent review of it appeared in the superb BLACK STATIC magazine. It tells the story, for those who haven’t read it, of an Afghan War veteran in the 1840s, who is released from the debtor’s prison and allotted a mysterious task by a beautiful and enigmatic woman. Almost inevitably, this leads him into gave danger as the coldest winter in living memory descends on London, and an evil, supernatural presence makes itself known which will soon turn the entire notion of Christmas on its head.

WALKERS IN THE DARK and ONE MONSTER IS NOT ENOUGH contain five and eight stories respectively. If that doesn’t seem like a lot, remember that most of these tales are novellas, so these are still hefty collections. Rather than go through them story-by-story in a belated attempt to whet the appetite of those who haven’t yet read them, I’ll list the tables of contents and include the blurb from the back of each book.

WALKERS IN THE DARK

In this dynamic new collection, Paul Finch draws on fact, legend and myth to create five terrifying tales spanning the length and breadth of Great Britain, from the mountains of Snowdonia to industrial Lancashire, and from northern Scotland to a run-down district of Liverpool. Readers will encounter the shape-shifting Baobhan Sith and the horrifying ‘Red Clogs’; search for the monstrous afanc of Wales; be haunted by the spectres of a war long past but not forgotten, and, in the spectacular title story, take part in a treasure hunt that goes terrifyingly wrong …

Contains:

The Formless
Season Of Mist
Fathoms Green And Noisome
Golgotha Way
Walkers In The Dark

ONE MONSTER IS NOT ENOUGH

Eight tales of nightmares made flesh ...

From the icy wastes of the Russian steppe to the grimy backstreets of industrial north England, from the depths of the ocean abyss to a forgotten corner of inner London, Paul Finch brings you eight stories about monsters that will guarantee you never dismiss the notion of ‘mystery beasts’ again.

Contains:

The Old North Road
The Tatterfoal
CALIBOS
Hag Fold
The Retreat
Kid
Red In Beak And Claw
Crow-Raven

A few words now about the great time I had at the ALT.FICTION Literature Festival in Derby last weekend. It’s always a joy to hook up with fellow writers, editors and friends from within the industry. Their names are almost too numerous to mention. In fact, I’m bound to forget someone, but here we go.

What a pleasure it was to crack a few beers and spin a few yarns with Mark Morris, Simon Clark, Paul Cornell, Simon Bestwick, Gary McMahon, Ian Whates, Steve Volk, Rob Shearman, Adam Neville, Derek Fox, David Moore, Graham Joyce, Peter Crowther, Conrad Williams, Paul Kane, Marie O’Regan, Chris Teague, Martin Roberts, Helen Hopley, Sandy Auden, Mark Chadbourn, Paul Cornell … and of course the inimitable Sarah Pinborough (for direct links to many of these esteemed colleagues and the amazing work they’ve all done within the horror and fantasy genres, check the lists of links in the panel alongside).

Again, please forgive me if I’ve missed anyone off here. Of course it wasn’t just a social whirl. Full plaudits must also go to Alex Davis and his crew for planning, organising and staffing this great event. The QUAD is a marvellous facility in the heart of Derby City Centre, very accessible and very well equipped to provide this kind of unusual event. Once we were installed, everything ran like clockwork.

On a personal note, thanks very much for the organisers for inviting me and having me participate in so many activities. And thanks indeed to Chris Cooke and the other guys from the Mayhem Horror Movie Festival, who requested that I present screenings of the two Val Lewton classics from the 1940s, CAT PEOPLE and RETURN OF THE CAT PEOPLE.

I was honoured to be asked, and very much hope to hook up with the Mayhem boys again some time in the future.

ALT.FICTION is an excellent event, and, for anyone who is half-contemplating going next year, either as guest or punter, you have my assurance that you won’t be disappointed.

Let us rekindle those old occult terrors

2011-06-26T08:46:00.000-07:00

To thee thy course by lot hath given charge and strict watch that to this happy place no evil thing approach or enter in …

Check out this brand new cover for the UK DVD release my latest horror film, THE DEVIL'S ROCK, which goes on general release in Britain on July 8th, and is available on DVD from July 11th.

For those who don’t already know, it concerns a Nazi plot to unleash demonic forces to win World War II, and may, I hope, resurrect that rarest of animals these days, the occult horror movie.

Let’s not kid ourselves, these massively frightening films were once a staple of the genre, and only gradually faded from popularity as religious beliefs in the West began to dwindle. Some of the greatest horror movies ever made belong to that scholarly realm of candles, incense and priestly defiance (or priestly fear, in most cases) in the face of super-terrifying enemies from the infernal regions.

This is a corner of doom-laden supernatural fiction originally examined by ghost story writers of earlier eras – Sheridan Le Fanu, Algernon Blackwood, M.R. James and so on, but it would finally hit a global audience in the form of blockbuster motion pictures like THE EXORCIST (1973), LEGION (1990), THE OMEN (1976), ROSEMARY’S BABY (1967), THE DEVIL RIDES OUT (1968) and in my opinion the best of them all, NIGHT OF THE DEMON (1957).

The quotation at the top of this article is lifted freely from John Milton’s epic 17th century poem concerning the fall of man, PARADISE LOST. It details the message given by the archangel Uriel to the archangel Gabriel, when charging him with protecting the Garden of Eden against the forces of chaos lying beyond its boundaries.

It was used to hair-raising effect in another ‘demonic horror’ classic, the Michael Winner film of 1977, THE SENTINEL, an adaptation of Jeffrey Convitz’s novel of the same name – both that book and movie were in no doubt that criminals and killers are backing the wrong team, and that no amount of psychoanalysis or sociologically-based excuse-making for bad behaviour will cut any ice when a soul faces final judgement. In fact, all of these movies (and the books and short stories that spawned them) took a very no-nonsense position on the subject of good and evil. Wickedness is wickedness; that’s all there is to it – and it comes with a horrific price-tag.

Even if we aren’t religious believers, there’s undoubtedly something about these books and movies that touches a raw nerve inside us. It evokes a latent fear, perhaps, that, regardless of our rational convictions, there may, beyond the thin veil of our corporeal world, be a realm of darkness where incomprehensible powers are seeking to destroy us body and soul purely for the pleasure it will give them.

This is not a popular message in our hedonistic, responsibility-free age, but it’s a message that is still there and it’s one we’ll hopefully rekindle with THE DEVIL'S ROCK. We’ve been a little bit naughty with this one, actually. We’ve chosen one of those few periods of history when genuine evil was unleashed across the surface of our world, and mankind had to struggle desperately – at great cost to himself – to constrain it, with no apparent assistance from the forces of good (though we don't know that to be true - do we?).

THE DEVIL'S ROCK is only a film of course. It’s important not to get too carried away, but appalling things still happen, and deeds are done that simply defy belief.

So now you know what you have to do. Keep strict watch ...

DEVIL'S ROCK roadshow gathering pace

2011-06-21T05:02:00.000-07:00

THE DEVIL’S ROCK UK roadshow is gathering breakneck pace.

The movie’s first ever screening in the UK takes place at The Hopsital Club in London tonight. It will be hosted by director Paul Campion, who afterwards will be fielding various questions and answers from an audience of diehard movie fans.

In about a month's time (July 29th, to be specific), Paul Campion, myself and two of the movie's stars, Gina Varela and Matt Sunderland, will attend a very special screening of the film at Cine Guernsey, in - yep, you guessed it - Guernsey, the Channel Island where the movie is set.

Gina plays Helena, a hostage of the Nazis who may, or may not, be a lot more than she seems, while Matt plays Klaus Meyer, an SS officer who will literally stop at nothing to win the war for Germany, though he soon realises that on this occasion even he may have bitten off more than he can chew.

(Matt is pictured above during what can only be described as a tough day at the office).

Meanwhile, anyone who is impatient to know more can possibly collar me at ALT.FICTION this weekend at QUAD in Derby, where I'll be on a couple of panels, hosting a movie-writing workshop, signing some books and hopefully drinking copoious amounts of beer.

For an even more immediate update, some rather nice new reviews of this movie have recently appeared.

The first comes courtesy of HORRORTALK, and the second is a Youtube review from THE HOUSE OF HORROR.

The former includes following quote, which, as the writer, pleased me no end:

A lot of people will instantly think of previous films that have tackled World War Two (DEAD SNOW, HELLBOY, SHOCK WAVES etc) but THE DEVIL'S ROCK bears no resemblance to these previous efforts other than its timeframe. For one thing, we’re not dealing with zombies here. The evil in this film is altogether more encompassing and it creates a dark mood for the entire movie. Even when the evil is not on screen, its presence is there. But also there is an emphasis on dialogue and a rapport between the two lead characters that make it more than just an all-out gorefest ...

Rather nice, I think.

Summer nights, but the winter still chills

2011-06-20T04:39:00.000-07:00

Many folk of an artistic persuasion have a personal rule that they never read critiques of their work – or at least that's what they say.

I'm not totally convinced. Critiques of anything artistic are only ever going to be of limited value; appreciation of art - whether we’re discussing literature, painting, sculpture, music, whatever – is obviously subjective. However, all artists want to be appreciated, and the only way they can truly test this water is by listening to honest appraisals of their work. Now, in my personal experience, the very few people who are likely to approach me and talk about anything I’ve written, are those who are close to me – family and friends. And obviously they’re biased.

So if I genuinely want to know if my writing is hitting the spot, I have no option but to read the critics. And critics in the UK, especially where horror is concerned, don’t come any tougher than Peter Tennant, who writes for what in my opinion is Britain’s leading horror magazine, BLACK STATIC.

Tennant, a writer of no small repute himself is nothing if not 100% honest. He has no axe to grind, and no particular preferences as far as I’m aware – he simply says it as he sees it. I don’t agree with every view he expresses, as I’m sure he wouldn’t expect me to, but you always know with Tennant that he’s speaking from the heart. For which reason I’m quite pleased that he’s been so positive about my Christmas horror opus, SPARROWHAWK, which was published by Pendragon Press at the end of last year.

SPARROWHAWK is a festive-themed novella (currently under recommendation for a British Fantasy Award in that capacity), and it tells the tale of a former British soldier and veteran of the First Afghan War, John Sparrowhawk, who in the winter of 1843 is released from the Debtor’s Prison where he was serving time for running up a relatively modest bill at Soho’s gaming tables. Bitter, cynical, at war with everyone – especially himself – Sparrowhawk now faces a bleak future, until he is offered employment by the beautiful and enigmatic Miss Evangeline. All he needs to do is stand guard over a mysterious house in Bloomsbury for the duration of the Christmas celebrations. Because he has no other option, he agrees to undertake the mission. But now the coldest winter in living memory descends on London (this story was written during the coldest winter in my living memory – the Christmas of 2009), and from out of the ice, snow and frozen, curling mist emerges a supernatural foe who begins to torment Sparrowhawk with a very personal and intrusive kind of haunting.

I won’t quote Tennant’s entire review. It can be found in #23 of BLACK STATIC magazine, but here are a few choice paragraphs:

Finch excels, both in his creation of the Victorian milieu, with compelling portrayals of the snowbound streets and the lives of the poor, so that you can feel the ache of the cold as it gets into your bones and the hunger in your belly, and also in the way in which the attacking entities use Sparrowhawk’s psychology against him, so that his emotional well-being is more under threat than his physical person.

Finch also uses the novel to criticise the politics of the day, and by inference those of our own time seem firmly in his sights also, with plenty of correspondence to be drawn – British soldiers involves in a hopeless Afghan conflict, civil unrest at home over social conditions, etc. Scenes such as the victory feast at which Sparrowhawk’s vanity is massaged by a famous general of the conflict, and his memories of the Peterloo massacre, ground the book in our present day as much as they do the Victorian age …

Meanwhile, sincere apologies yet again for anyone who tuned in last Friday hoping to read the latest installment of POWER OF THREE. Unfortunately, due to my being literally up to the eyebrows in work at present, I can’t take the time off to continue this series on anything like a weekly basis. From time to time, however, there will be new installments, and I shall endeavour to post them in time for Friday morning coffee break, as, judging from the hits I get, that seems to be the feature’s most popular time of week.

For those interested, I wrote a short essay last week on the subject of “Why I’m not giving up on horror” – and it was posted on Steve Lockley’s lively and excellent blog, CONFESSIONS OF A TECHNOPHOBE.

If you haven’t seen it yet by all means check in. There are plenty of other dissertations on there as well - by my fellow genre writers and artists, who all have plenty to say on a variety of subjects.

My use of the above picture is a bit naughty, as it comes from the wonderful cover art provided by Zach McCaine for my 2007 book, STAINS. It referred to the novella, THE STAIN (currently under movie option for those interested), but there is a moment in SPARROWHAWK, which, while not exactly the same, this image quite neatly illustrates.

Land of witches will get its own screening

2011-06-13T15:44:00.000-07:00

There has been another cool development in the saga of THE DEVIL'S ROCK

We now have a special screening on Guernsey, the island closest to Forau, the fictional World War Two strongpoint where the movie is set, planned for Friday July 29th.

This comes courtesy of Cine Guernsey (an independent cinema who offer local folk the opportunity to view classic, foreign and contemporary movies not otherwise available for public viewing on the island), who will be hosting the special night.

Afterwards there will be a dedicated question and answer session with myself, Paul Campion, the film's director, and possibly some cast members.

With its fine weather, beautiful beaches and blue sea-scapes, Guernsey is mainly famous these days as a glorious holiday location, but while many are aware of its sufferings during the Nazi occupation in the Second World War, less well-known is its history of witchcraft and demonology.

Like many remote rural places, there has always been faerie lore in the Channel Islands, along with tales of ghosts, headless hounds and the islands' own uniquely spooky version of the Will-o-the-Wisp. But in Guernsey these charming folk stories took a turn for the more serious in the 16th and 17th centuries, when a series of witch trials commenced, many of which heard bizarre evidence of curses passed, black sabbaths held and demonic beings summoned to Earth through doorways connecting with Hell.

In particular, witnesses claimed to have spied upon Satanic rituals at Rocquaine Castle (Guernsey's famous stone circle) and the Catioroc (a prehistoric burial site). Various kinds of devils and demons were named as having been invited to the island to commit atrocious acts.

In 150 years some 200 Guernsey folk were tried for witchcraft (compared to only 2000 in the whole of mainland England during the same period), many confessions were extracted by torture - even though this was illegal on the mainland, and those convicted faced brutal punishments; where in England a person convicted of causing death by witchcraft faced the hangman, in Guernsey a person merely convicted of witchcraft faced a much slower death by being burned at the stake.

Presumably, anyone wondering why we chose Guernsey as our location for THE DEVIL'S ROCK will now know the answer. We certainly couldn't have found a more appropriate place for a special one-off screening.

Pictured is La Gran'Mere du Chimquiere, a perhistoric fertility symbol at St. Martin's Church on Guernsey. Once feared by locals, it is now a tourist attraction. On occasion, pagan offerings are still left at its feet.

Stirring memories of CROSS AND FIRE

2011-06-12T21:18:00.000-07:00

If you folks can forgive yet another indulgence of mine, here are some old but very fond memories - photographic stills from my first ever drama to be professionally produced.

CROSS AND FIRE is set in the fortress of Rouen in 1431, and tells the tale of four English men-at-arms who volunteer to form the execution detail for Joan of Arc. Each of them has his own reason for undertaking such a grim duty, but ultimately all feel comfortable in the knowledge that they are doing God's work in burning a witch. Only later on (in the second act), as a terrible realisation dawns that they might actually have burned a saint, do each man's personal demons come roaring to the surface. And when it finally transpires that, in the midst of the execution, as the flames licked at Saint Joan's chained body, Piers - the most embittered of the foursome - handed the unfortunate girl a crucifix, there is an eruption of anguish and violence ...

CROSS AND FIRE was originally intended for radio, but had its first production on stage, in the round, in the Water Heyes Studio, Wigan Little Theatre, in April 1991. It was directed superbly by top RSC man, Chris Robert, and starred John Churnside, John McCabe, Ian Cunningham and Richard Fisher, who all gave hair-raisingly intense performances. The Water Heyes is a very close theatrical environment. For most of the time the actors were within arm's reach of the audience, so there was no opportunity for any of them to 'take a break'. The set was dressed with rags, filth and straw, not to mention heavy concrete flagstones, to create the aura of a dungeon, and during the burning sequence, which happened offstage, the audience were subjected to real smoke and and the stench of charring flesh. To this day it remains one of the most satisfying experiences of my literary life.

Above, Piers (John McCabe), the leader of the doomed band and the one most culpable for their inevitable fate. Below, in descending order, Falcon (John Churnside) explains to Alain (Ian Cunningham) that wars are won through ruthlessness rather than chivalry; Edwin (Richard Fisher) reacts with horror as the truth dawns that they have just torched one of God's chosen, and that their souls are now damned.

Another summons for all Doctor Who fans

2011-06-07T23:56:00.000-07:00

More Who-related matters are on the horizon this week.

First off, I'm pleased to announce that the audio-book version of HUNTER'S MOON, my new 11th Doctor novel, is now available, as read by Arthur Darvill (Rory Williams in the current TV show).

It tells a tale of gangsters and mercenaries, and is set on the Outer Rim, one of the least desirable corners of the Galaxy, in particular on the planetoid, Gorgoror, where ever kind of horror is waiting to be unleashed against the unwary. In its first few weeks of sales, the hardback version almost cracked the UK Top Ten, so BBC Books are certainly pleased with its progress.

A couple of independent reviews which have now appeared online, mention it thus:

I'm 40 pages into this book and already there has been a wealth of action and the world building is superb, painting a sleazy picture of a very nasty location. Looks like this will be another winner...

and

I really enjoyed this. The prose felt more detailed and the situations more dangerous than those of the average book. Nice setup and execution of how the Doctor defeated the badguy, too.

The brand new audio version can be purchased HERE .

In another Dr Who exclusive, I'll be at the official Big Finish Day at Barking Abbey School (Longbridge Road, Barking, Essex, IG11 8UF), this coming Saturday (June 11th), to sign CDs, books and basically anything that gets put in front of me. If you're toying with the idea of toddling along but the thought of meeting me doesn't whet your appetite, toddle along anyway. Many other luminaries of Dr Who will be present, including Colin Baker, Sarah Sutton (Nyssa) and Sophie Aldred (Ace), not to mention top writers like Rob Shearman, Marcx Platt, Alan Barnes, Justin Richards, John Dorney and Nev Fountain.

It's slightly naughty of me, by the way, to illusrate this article with the above picture, which is a publicity shot for HEXAGORA, my next Dr Who project for Big Finish, due out in October, but to be fair it does feature Sarah Sutton, who reprises her role as Nyssa. It also includes Janet Fielding as Tegan and guest-stars the legendary Jacqueline Pearce, who first made her TV name as the beautiful but deadly Servalan in BLAKE'S SEVEN, but is no less a powerful and domineering character in my new script. Anyway, I can't give any more details about HEXAGORA at present; you guys will just need to watch this space.

Let's scare Mummy and Daddy to death

2011-06-04T07:13:00.000-07:00

THE DEVIL’S ROCK has earned itself the official insignia of adulthood, by being awarded an 18 certificate for its UK release.

Not everyone in the movie world would be pleased to receive news of this sort. In the good old sleazy days of the X certificate, it was almost a badge of honour to be told that your product was suitable for adults only. In later years, with the movie-going demographic changing and mega-bucks often at stake, many studio execs were less keen to receive this mark of notoriety as it had the potential to reduce the size of their audiences.

However, when it comes to horror movies, it’s still without doubt a good sign if you have a nice, big, fat ‘18’ against your name. If you make horror movies in order to scare the viewing public to death (which is certainly my motivation), it would hardly be a ringing endorsement if the chaps at the BBFC gave you a ‘15’ or, even worse, a ‘12’.

So … no worries of that sort for us. We are strictly for ‘adults only’.

On the subject of ringing endorsements, I’ve had my attention drawn to the website CINEMA SCREAM and in particular to an assessment of THE DEVIL’S ROCK by a reviewer who actually hails from the Channel Islands.

In short, he likes it an awful lot, and that touches me. It wouldn’t be true to say that the Islanders are the people this movie was made for – it was made for everyone (who’s over 18, of course, heh heh heh) – but they are the folk on whose blood-soaked soil this story was built, so if they like it I have to take that as a very good omen.

Anyway, enough of my inane gabble. Here, for your delectation, are some choice chunks from the review in question:

Based during World War II on a small island just off the coast of Nazi-occupied Guernsey, THE DEVIL’S ROCK defies its low budget genre roots to deliver an old fashioned dose of horror with shades of both Nigel Kneale and fireside stories from much further back.

The real achievement of THE DEVIL’S ROCK is that it defies all expectations. What we have, essentially, is a four-hander based in a series of concrete rooms and corridors, the premise of which seems like it was ripped from the more sensational end of the History Channel’s main obsessions. Director Paul Campion and fellow writers Paul Finch and Brett Ihaka have taken these ingredients and delivered a movie that looks and sounds fantastic. The comparison with Nigel Kneale might seem a bit overblown but, with its evil down in the deep and ancient powers that far outstrip any dream of a thousand year Reich, THE DEVIL’S ROCK is, thankfully, less a collection of jumps and bumps and more an old fashioned, thought provoking horror.

Guernsey has a long tradition of nightmares, both traditional and uncomfortably recent. Hundreds of years ago witches were burnt by the good people of the island, more recently Nazi forces worked and beat slave workers to death then buried them in the foundations of the numerous bunkers and watch towers that surround our coastline. These installations still stand today. The cultural commentator Jonathan Meades likened them to concrete fists but mostly they are scars. That Campion, Finch and Ihaka have rolled all of this together into one precise movie is something to be admired.

PS: Many apologies to anyone who tuned in on Friday morning expecting to find my lastest installment of THE POWER OF THREE. It's the same excuse as last time - I'm just too danged busy at present. The next bulletin will hopefully be on time next week, though at present my work cup is literally overflowing.

New Liz Shaw tale proves a winner so far

2011-05-31T00:33:00.001-07:00

A pleasing review has appeared for SENTINELS OF THE NEW DAWN, the 'Companion Chronicle' Dr Who audio drama I recently penned for Big Finish.

The author of said review is Stephen Theaker, writing on his blog:

THEAKER'S QUARTERLY AND PAPERBACKS.

The story concerns Liz Shaw, the Third Doctor's first companion, so admirably played by the cool and sexy Caroline John (pictured, in her heyday), and goes into a little bit of detail about why, back in the early 1970s, she left UNIT and the Doctor's side after a relatively short stint. Caroline performs this story as well, alongside Duncan Wisbey, and does another very smart job. The tale itself is a prequel to LEVIATHAN, a full-cast audio drama Sixth Doctor adventure, which I wrote in 2009, having adapted it from an original but never-screened TV script written by my late-father, Brian Finch, in 1984.

New Dawn are an organisation of political and cultural idealists, whose philosophy is based on a strange combination of modern environmentalism and medieval feudalism, but they are so ruthless that they seek to impose their new order by non-democratic means and think nothing about enforcing it with an array of biomechanical monstrosities.

Anyway, here are some details from Mr. Theaker's review:

It’s a brave writer who asks an English actress with a plummy accent to perform the dialogue of an African dictator (this one plays a crucial role in the plans of the New Dawn), and a braver actress who accepts the challenge, but if that’s all this adventure is remembered for it would be a shame. Caroline John’s Pertwee isn’t perfect either, but there’s never any doubt that we are listening to Elizabeth Shaw. There are interesting reflections from Liz on why things didn’t work out for her at U.N.I.T. – the Doctor’s life is simply too intense for an ordinary human – and we realise how little she got to know him – she doesn’t really know which way he’ll jump with regard to the New Dawn.

The two-episode structure of the Companion Chronicles once again proves a triumph, these two episodes squeezing in so much more than was usual for Liz’s period on the show. The Doctor is for once allowed to be as clever as he really is – there isn’t a lot he can’t sort out in an hour-long adventure when he puts his mind to it!

At the risk of blowing my own trumpet too much, these kind words sit rather nicely with other positive comments recently posted about SENTINELS on the excellent Dr Who forum, GALLIFREY BASE:

A very solid story from anera that's often overlooked. It's good that BF remains true to this earth bound era, and whilst parallels can be drawn with Inferno in moving the story on, this is a story that could easily have appeared on TV. Perhaps of some most recent Companion Chronicles this remains truest to it's television counterpart.

Listened to this whilst shoping in Sainsburys, and loved it, (it really transported me away from the screaming brats and chavy mothers that shop in my local branch!!) Wonderful to hear Caroline John again on these companion Chronicles, and agree with coastalbloke that this era is a little overlooked by the range, maybe because of the non-availablity of artists, I would love to hear one with Liz and Jo together, (but maybe if I want one like that I should write it!) 9 out of 10 for me, should be lower I fogot half my shopping and picked up stuff I didnt need too!

I quite enjoyed this, it was very evocative of the era, and combined with the present-day narration, just felt right.

The Power of Three - 26th Installment

2011-05-26T15:30:00.000-07:00

Yep, it's Friday morning and it's coffee break time again. So here are my thoughts on three more of the best horror stories ever written. Once again, I assure you there are no hidden themes or shared subtexts here, even though there does appear to be a 'life after death' thing going on with at least two of them.

As always, these three names came out of the hat entirely by lot. People who read this column regularly are actually stopping believing this, as they say that if I was genuinely picking stories from my 'best ever' list at random, then I would surely have doubled up on several authors by now. It surprises me a little that I haven't, as certain weird wordsmiths figure on my list many times over, but no doubt at some point this discrepancy will be rectified.

For the moment, you'll just have to be patient with these three. Hope they stir some dark memories for you all, and if not, hope they inspire you go out and seek these dark deliberations so that you can find out what all the fuss was about.

The Harrowing Stone by Ben Leech

A selfish academic dreads the forthcoming death of his wife from cancer, as he fears being left alone. Then he hears about a mysterious monolith in a Scottish glen, which has the power to heal. There is one problem – life can only be saved if another life has first been given.

Not just a harrowing stone but a harrowing tale, as we witness a juxtaposition of two nightmarish possibilities. The slow, agonising and all-too-real wasting to death of a loved one in the grip of terminal cancer, or the devil’s bargain of using pagan magic to restore health even though you know a demonic price will be exacted. It almost seems tasteless in some ways, contrasting tragic realism with high-faluting fantasy, but the deed is done with such skill in this tale – the real and the fantastical blended together like two halves of a single, very real whole – that you can’t help but be mesmerised as developments unfold. At no stage does it feel like we’re in a fairy tale here. Okay, we’re dealing with spells, and highland mist, and enigmatic standing stones, but it is all so powerfully portrayed that the dark force of fatal illness is easily given a run for its money by the even darker force of the netherworld. This story also poses some fairly serious questions: how far would you go?; who would you be prepared to sacrifice? And in the time-honoured tradition of great horror fiction, it offers no easy answers.

First published in SCAREMONGERS, 1997.

The Bird by Thomas Burke

Captain Chudder, a brutal seaman, leads a vile existence. Constantly drunk and violent, he is particularly abusive to a young Chinese boy whom he keeps locked in his cabin. The boy escapes and vows revenge. But he hasn’t allowed for Chudder’s pet – a large white parrot possessed of a devilish intellect.

Even disregarding the issue of child-molestation, this was a shocking story when first published. Chudder is utterly odious as a character, not just because he lacks any redeeming features but because he also lacks any of the romance normally associated with villains in Gothic fiction: he is neither handsome nor cunning nor independently wealthy. He is simply a boorish lout of the sort to be found in any real-life dockland slum. Burke often located his tales in London’s depressed Limehouse district, rarely depicting it in a positive light, though often he half-concealed its grime behind a mirage of Oriental mysticism. Not so in this case. Here, Limehouse is a river-side sewer filled with taverns, brothels, opium dens, and human garbage of every sort. It is a picture of Hell on Earth long before the reader even has a chance to absorb the interwoven subtexts of sexual abuse and of course racism (the interracial relationship between Chudder and the Chinese boy caused as much of a scandal as the obvious implication of homosexuality, never mind the under-age abuse). Of course, the story is written with Burke’s usual eloquence, though not to the point where it detracts from the squalor, or the steadily more sinister presence of the story’s main ‘pulp’ element – the bird!

First published in LIMEHOUSE NIGHTS (pictured), 1916.

Watchers At The Strait Gate by Russell Kirk

It is midnight when Father O’Malley, a tired old priest, is disturbed in his isolated presbytery by a hulking tramp who wants to make a confession. The priest is afraid but knows he has a duty to all wretched souls. The tramp then confesses to murdering six men and announces that he will now show O’Malley the way to salvation.

Russell Kirk reveals his strong religious faith in this powerful dissertation on love, hate, fear and redemption. Simply because of who the author is, we’re in no doubt from the outset that there will be a supernatural twist here, but the growing sense of dread as the veteran clergyman marches through the darkened church to the confessional, a gigantic brutish shadow behind him, is literally palpable. Needless to say, there is far more to this story than mystery and suspense. Kirk’s elegant language perfectly enshrines his complex ideas about morality and responsibility and ultimately the price we may all have to pay for a lack thereof, and is filled with classical and theological allusions and references. The hard-edge of reality is never far away of course. We are also immersed in the misery of the underclass, especially as seen from that uniquely American perspective, where life is a void filled with flophouses, prisons and cheap bars, and where ‘the Watchers’, the dark wraiths of human failure, are never far away. All in all an exquisite ghost story, beautifully written and deeply affecting.

First published in NEW TERRORS 2, 1980.

UK release dates for THE DEVIL'S ROCK

2011-05-24T06:11:00.001-07:00

I'm delighted to announce that we at last have the UK release dates for my new horror movie, THE DEVIL'S ROCK.

There is to be a limited cinema release on July 8th, alongside a simultaneous VOD release.

Don't ask me exactly what 'limited' means, but suffice to say that it won't be screening all over the country. Which theatres will actually pick the movie up, I don't yet know, but I'll inform everyone as and when.

However, there is no need for tantrums. Those who don't get to catch the movie at the flicks will only have to wait a couple of days. Because the movie will be issued on DVD all over the UK on July 11th.

A nerve-wracking time now follows for me. I've had one movie cinematically released in the past - that was SPIRIT TRAP back in 2005 (that only got a limited release too, but mainly did its business on DVD) - so it's a familiar sensation, this sense of powerlessness as you wait for the movie-going public to get their mits on what you hope will be seen as a masterpiece. But it's an exciting time as well. Believe it or not, I haven't yet seen a finished cut of the film, so I'm more than a little bit curious myself.

In case anyone missed it the first time round, here's a link to the movie website and the trailer:

http://thedevilsrock.co.nz/

Pictured above is another scene from the film. Kiwi commandos Ben Grogan (Craig Hall) and Joe Tane (Karlos Drinkwater) enter the enmey compound under cover of darkness, unaware just how terrible a foe awaits them there.

Gina shows a nice face and a scary face

2011-05-23T00:39:00.000-07:00

You folks may be interested in a nice little TV interview with Kiwi acrress and star of THE DEVIL'S ROCK, Gina Varela (pictured here cooling off, but still looking hot). The interview comes to us courtesy of New Zealand television, one of whose news crew caught up with the film crew, and Gina in particular, at Cannes during the festival.

CHECK IT OUT

For my own part, it's a strange twist of fate that I came to write a New Zealand horror movie when I was born in the UK and still live here. I've sold a few books in the Southern Hemisphere, and have appeared in several Australian anthologies, but I never thought I'd end up working for a film company located down there.

I can trace it back to my very first contact with director Paul Campion (who has dual British/New Zealand citizenship), when he was looking to make a low-budget horror movie set in London. But the way things have developed since then is quite startling.

THE DEVIL'S ROCK is actually the third movie Paul Campion and I have worked on together, and more may now follow as, in the inimmitable style of the Cannes Film Festival, much business was done and more projects plotted, at least a couple of which have already attracted strong interest from the powers-that-be in New Zealand.

I know it's an oft-quoted phrase, but with regard to this particular matter I can only say 'watch this space'.

With regard to THE DEVIL'S ROCK meanwhile, the good news is that we now have a release schedule for Britain, which will be some time in early July. No firm dates as yet (again, 'watch this space'). As to how many cinemas will take the movie, that's a question I can't yet answer, but keep checking back in - it could well be at a cinema near you.

The Power of Three - 25th Installment

2011-05-19T13:45:00.000-07:00

Here’s another trio of terror with which to disturb your Friday morning coffee break routine. Possibly you’ll remember all these three from tremulous times past, but if you don’t I’ve hopefully whetted your appetites to go out and look them up.

Again, all three of these classic chillers were chosen entirely at random. I assure you it’s completely coincidental that this week’s selections include two authors who were also famous for their children’s writing. That was not intentional in any shape of form (Do you think I’m playing games here?) Not that there is much that is child-friendly about the tales I’ve chosen today.

Happy recollections …

Sardonicus by Ray Russell

A London neurosurgeon travels to a castle in Bohemia, where his former sweetheart is married to the local count, a one-time pauper who found wealth by digging his father’s rotting corpse from the grave to retrieve a winning lottery ticket, but in the process so shocked himself that he now wears a perpetual demented grin.

Possibly the most gothic of all gothic stories, not least because it introduces to us one of horror fiction’s most memorable madmen, and also because it literally puts Grand Guignol on the printed page. The condition Risus Sardonicus is actually real, so no matter how horrible this story becomes it’s based on a kernel of truth. Yet the real monstrousness of the character Sardonicus stems not from his gargoyle appearance but from his sheer wickedness. Compared to Cargrave, the morally upright hero, he is the epitome of malevolence. The relish he expresses as he lists the sexual depravities to which his wife will be subjected (and which she will deserve, in his opinion), if Cargrave fails to cure his affliction, is delightfully ghoulish but also plumbs the depths of conscience-free insanity. The environment matches S’s personality to a tee. No grimmer castle has featured in dark literature since Dracula; the surrounding landscape is appropriately bleak, empty and soulless. And the sting in the story’s tail is one of those great twists of well-earned fate, but at the same time it reinforces the story’s key message – no matter how rich the trappings of the supernatural, the worst malignancies in this world are strictly of human origin.

First published in PLAYBOY, 1961.

The Swan Child by Joan Aiken

Two confident kids seeking sponsorship money make cheery rounds of their village. They are advised to avoid a bungalow on the outskirts, but decide they won’t, and here meet a nice lady who agrees to contribute, though she suggests they don’t return for their money after dark. Of course, you can’t tell these youngsters anything.

Okay, it’s a little bit on the nose, this one. Like most of Joan Aiken’s work, it was aimed at a younger readership, but it’s beautifully written and very evocative of long summer days in rural England. It’s also as spooky as Hell. The meeting with the occupant of the bungalow is a masterly scene as our intrepid heroes only slowly begin to notice eerie details: her dirty feet; the scars on her wrists. Once they’ve got away without anything unpleasant happening, it’s quite a relief, though you just know that these two – typical Aiken youngsters, in that they are mannerly but also independent and assertive – are going to drift back there, and indeed there’s a real air of impending doom as they commence the long return journey from their charity walk, the target of which was an ominous figure – the titular swan Child – cut into the hillside by Iron Age mystics. They’re now on their own, they follow endless dusty paths between endless hedgerows, around endless ploughed fields, never meeting anybody, drawing ever closer to the mysterious bungalow as dusk approaches. To say more would be too much of a spoiler, but it’s worth mentioning that there’s a startling turn-around at the finale which, just in case you’d already decided what this was all about, puts everything into an even more uncanny context.

First published in A WHISPER IN THE NIGHT, 1981.

William And Mary by Roald Dahl

A widow is shocked to learn that her controlling husband has arranged for his life to be extended by having his brain preserved in a basin of cerebrospinal fluid, with one eye attached so that he can still watch the world. It isn’t long, however, before she realises that she can turn this to her advantage.

Another of Dhal’s cunning black jokes developed into a full-blooded if somewhat rib-tickling horror story. We are in vintage Dahl territory from the outset, with distinctly non-sentimental characters on all sides – the hospital’s matter-of-fact preparations for William’s death would be quite outrageous, were he not so selfish a person himself. Even Mary – innocent, abused Mary – turns out to be somewhat sly and devious, and maybe even, were we to hang around long enough, a little ‘wanton’. At the same time, fantastical (some would argue ‘nonsensical’) science is never far away. I certainly don’t know if all it takes to keep a disembodied brain alive is to pump it regularly with oxygenated blood, but you get the impression it would work from the scholarly exposition we get here. Of course, we know that the plan is never going to succeed as it was intended, but as always with Dahl’s work, we accept everything at face value and wait eagerly to see villains get their just deserts. Though it’s not perhaps quite as unexpected an ending as we’ve come to anticipate from the master of that sub-genre, the denouement is still very clever and great fun when it arrives. Of course, as so often, the real subtext investigates the latent vindictiveness that lurks within us all, even those of us who on the surface lead such civil and restrained lives.

First published in KISS KISS, 1960.

The Devil's Rock appears to be on a roll

2011-05-18T10:29:00.001-07:00

I’ve just returned from the annual Police Federation Conference in Bournemouth to the extraordinarily good news that we have now sold the US rights for The Devil's Rock.

Entertainment One have taken the plunge, and the deal they’ve struck with NZ Film covers not just the United States, but Canada as well.

This adds two new major territories to the three others where we’ve already managed to sell the movie – the UK, New Zealand and the Middle East. Apparently offers were also received during the Cannes Festival for other key territories, though no details can be revealed about those just yet.

There’s a bit more info about this big development HERE, though it's only a snippet.

Obviously these are exciting times. On Monday morning, I was interviewed by the delightful Heather Stott on BBC Radio Manchester. I was a bit nervous, but in the 15 minutes I was allocated – which was a pretty generous slot, given that I was primarily there to promote my own movie – we covered quite a lot of stuff; the background to the film, not to mention my own personal history, (much of it as a copper around Manchester), and so on.

If anyone’s interested, there’s an edited transcript of the interview HERE.

Be quick though. I’m not sure how long that one will stay up.

Pictured above: director of The Devil's Rock, Paul Campion, and one of its stars, Gina Varela. You've seen enough pictures of me, so I'll not bother sticking another one on. Besides, compared to those two handsome devils, I'd probably crack your computer screen.

"Hellgirl" or "Saw with swastikas"? Nice.

2011-05-15T05:00:00.001-07:00

"Overwhelmingly positive!"

That's what I'm hearing from Cannes at the moment in terms of audience response to THE DEVIL'S ROCK, which had its first screening on Friday evening, and goes in front of another eager crowd of festival-goers later today.

Apparently the Friday screening was so popular that the theatre doors had to be locked with a significant number of disappointed attendees still outside.

It all sounds excellent, but of course you've got to keep your feet on the ground with regard to these things. As Caesar said to Mark Anthony, "Tha ne'er knows when'th mob can turn against you, lad!"

That said, the first official review of the film is also very encouraging. It comes from Alan Jones writing on http://www.shocktillyoudrop.com/news/topnews.php?id=19165

Alan coined the two phrases "Hellgirl" and "Saw with swastikas". I don't agree entirely with the latter, but he's generally pretty complimentary to the movie, which puts him firmly in my book of cool.

For those who were expecting to hear me gabbling away about the film on BBC Radio Manchester on Friday morning, humblest apologies. The interview has been moved to 10 am on the Heather Stott Show tomorrow (Monday).

Above, for your delectation, I have another (admittedly small) still from the movie. Matthew Sunderland demonstrates the standard Gestapo interrogation technique at the expense of Craig Hall.

Demons and devilry in the Channel Isles

2011-05-13T10:41:00.000-07:00

Sorry about this but there can be no POWER OF THREE today. There are two reasons for this – the blog has been down for 24 hours or so, and though I could still upload the latest installment, it would now interfere with my other main event of the day, which is the world premier of my horror movie, THE DEVIL’S ROCK, which will be screening in Cannes in about one hour’s time.

So you chaps and chapesses will have to wait until next week for POT 25, while this week we concentrate on the new movie. For those who still interested, you can see the brand new trailer for the film here:

THE DEVIL'S ROCK

Don't be jealous. That’s as much as I’ve seen as well, and as much as I’ll be seeing for the next few days at least, because for various reasons I couldn’t make the fun and frolics down in the south of France. I’m reliably assured I’ll be kept informed of events via up-to-the-minute bulletins, but I'm certainly now wishing I was there.

Anway, a quick recap for those new to this site.

THE DEVIL’S ROCK was first written up here in the north of England some two years ago. The story was initially thrashed out by myself and the director, Paul Campion (one of the best blokes in the business), over bangers and mash in a Wigan hostelry. I then penned the script over the following Christmas, mainly dictating into my hand-recorder while walking the dog through ice, snow and temperatures touching -20. (We artistic types suffer so much for our craft). Those lonely sojourns seem a very long time ago now. I never thought it would happen back then, but the finished product is now here - courtesy of the New Zealand Film Commission and various others - to be seen and judged.

In a nutshell, it concerns an Allied commando raid in May 1944, on the eve of D-Day. The target is a German range-finder post out in the Channel Islands, but the troopers uncover something there that is far more important, and far, far more terrifying …

Lifetime's ambition fulfilled at long last

2011-05-10T03:35:00.000-07:00

Here I am, posing with the evidence of a lifetime's achievement.

I've finally got a book on sale in Asda!

Can you believe that? All these long years of misery spent wandering the aisles of our local store, wondering why one of my titles couldn't be up there with all those others, and hey presto - yesterday, completely out of the blue, I spy a bunch of copies of HUNTER'S MOON. Sitting there, pristine, glimmering under the arclights.

Who says dreams don't come true?

On a slightly less humorous but equally pleasing note, I had a great tip off from BBC Books last week. It sounds as if HUNTER'S MOON has got off to a good start in terms of sales. Early Bookscan fitures put it at number 13 on the list for hardback fiction, and that was after it had only been on sale for three days. There's even a possibilty that some time this week it may crack the top ten.

Hope so, at least.

HUNTER'S MOON also seems to be doing well in the critical stakes. No reviews that I've read are disparaging thus far. Here's a nice quote, which I've extracted (without permission, I hasten to add) from a review posted by FRANK on cathoderaytube.blogspot:

Finch's novel shifts from contemporary, austerity struck UK, and a very grounded reality, to something akin to Blake's 7 with a multi-million pound budget. Indeed, I was happy to recall a particularly fine Robert Holmes episode Gambit while reading this, especially the early chapters when Amy and Rory explore the casinos of LP9.

The plot is straight-forward action adventure using the well-heeled, run-down dirty futurism of Blade Runner and its ilk but it's a high-octane tale, very descriptively written by Finch who clearly relishes in the colour and detail of the worlds and characters he has created. The result is a book that you can absorb yourself in, where the surface and dereliction of Gorgoror becomes a very tangible place, full of danger from disused installations and a variety of nasties. As soon as all the characters reach this desolate place, the novel becomes an exhausting chase, almost like the various levels of a well detailed and immersive video game environment.

I hope that makes it sound enticing to those who haven't yet dipped into it.

In other news this week, non-Who related on this occasion, I've got a 15-minute slot on the Heather Stott show on BBC Radio Manchester this Friday morning, in which to talk about THE DEVIL'S ROCK.

I'm not one to read anything into unnerving dates like Friday 13th (this is actually the same day TDR opens in Cannes, so that's quite cool), but 15 minutes!

I have to talk for 15 minutes?

Is such a thing possible? I guess we'll see on Friday. Those of you who live in the region, please tune in and give me moral support. I haven't got the actual times yet - it'll be mid-morning sometime. Watch this space for further details.

A final word now regarding my MEDI-EVIL trilogy, which prides itself on telling blood-curdling supernatural tales from times thankfully past. A few folks have already picked it up via Kindle. But the entire series is also now available on Smashwords. If you're interested, you can grab it here:

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/brentwoodpress

Fond memory of London's dark underbelly

2011-05-07T04:07:00.000-07:00

Here's something slightly different, which nevertheless may be of interest.

I've had my attention drawn to one of my episodes of The Bill, which I wrote way back in 2000.

Some devoted fan (LOL – there must be some of them out there) has put the whole thing up on Youtube, divided into five viewable segments. I'm not sure whether it's legal or not, but while it's there I'm more than happy to let folks check it out.

It was an episode called Protect And Survive, and those interested can find it here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zjVAvRHwT_8

It's not totally inappropriate to mention it on this blog as this particular installment of the long-running cop show concerned a deranged killer, Craig Ronson, who escapes from a high security prison and spends the next night targeting police officers around his native Sun Hill.

We deliberately went for as dark and menacing an atmosphere as we could, having made a conscious decision that this story should be an out-and-out thriller rather than a police procedural case-file. It involved a prolonged night shoot, and made use of some very eerie and rundown locations in and around south London.

The press reaction was generally pretty good. All seemed unanimous in their belief that this was a particularly brooding and scary episode. One red-top – I can’t remember exactly which one – reckoned that it was too violent to be screened before the nine o’clock watershed, but personally I thought that an exaggeration. It opened a lot of doors for me professionally, that's for sure.

It’s seems a long time ago, of course – and it would be more tightly written and edited now, but in my opinion it’s the best of my Bill episodes, and I’m quite chuffed that someone else liked it enough to seek to immortalise it in this way.

Pictured is Craig Ronson, the cop-hating mass murderer who was at the heart of the tale. Mark Lewis was the actor, and what a chilling performance he gave.

For those interested in trivia, this was also the debut episode of DC Mickey Webb (played by Chris Simmons), who became one of the show’s most popular characters. If I remember rightly, Mickey was initially going to be called Harry Webb, and we were well into pre-production for this episode when someone thankfully remembered that this was Cliff Richard’s real name – so we had to change it quickly

The Power of Three - 24th Installment

2011-05-05T11:10:00.000-07:00

It’s hard to believe that a whole week has passed since I last wrote one of these. Time is definitely not standing still at the moment, especially as there is barely a minute to spare between jobs.

However, the spring Bank Holiday season is now firmly behind us and we’re back into that familiar desert of all work and no play making life dull. I therefore consider it even more imperative that I keep on souring your Friday morning coffee breaks with these recollections of some of the greatest horror stories every written.

Here are three more to remind you that life can be a whole lot more torturous than merely embracing us with its nine-til-five drudgery. Enjoy …

The Curse by Ed Gorman

A washed-up lawyer counterattacks the callous boss who stole his girl, by tricking him into offending a homeless man who has the power to cast hexes. A fearsome sentence is duly passed, but messing with voodoo is never a straightforward business.

The harsh reality of corporate life meets head-on with the supernatural in a very cool tale, which, typically for Ed Gorman, proves that there is more to fear from humanity than from the dark forces of the netherworld. The magical element, though it underpins this whole story, takes a backseat for much of the narrative. Instead, it is the hateful actions of worthless individuals that keep us turning the pages. Can people so irredeemably unpleasant really reach such positions of power? Of course they can. In the modern age it’s precisely this unpleasantness that has made these monsters so successful. The yes-men (or in this case yes-women) who follow them are no less malign in their own way, while those who can’t match them and therefore resort to drunkenness, drug-taking and morose self-pity only add fuel to the bonfire of moralities. Against such a backdrop, paranormal entities seem almost inconsequential. But they’re not. We may believe that we’ve degenerated to such a level that we no longer need the Devil because we can do his work for him. But after this story, it’s pretty clear that we’re still no more than his eager trainees.

First published in BLUE MOTEL, 1994.

The Beautiful Ones by Mary Williams

A retired couple move to the Cornish countryside and open a guesthouse. Husband Arthur never really wanted this, and now feels neglected by his shrewish wife. But then a weird old woman gives him a seedling. When he plants it, a mysterious plant starts to grow – with the dimensions of a curvaceous lady.

Another macabre tale from England’s most mysterious county, and in the hands of a skilled author like Mary Williams, one of the most gorgeously written you’ll ever encounter. Of course it’s an outrageous and even perverse concept, no matter how poetic the language; it’s earthy and sensual, and magical through and through, but it has a really dark and frightening undertone, especially in the finale when it becomes clear that the cost of one indiscretion may be felt for generations to come. The basic message is simple: don’t seek for something you’ve no right to possess (especially not in an ancient, myth-ridden landscape like Cornwall), because you may suddenly find that you get it, and then there’ll be no end to the bizarre forces you might unleash. This of course is where Mary Williams is at her strongest. She handles jaded middle-class relationships well, but it’s in the perils of faerie lore where she excels. No-one is going to be offended by this tale, despite its racy concept, but they’ll never regard the phrase ‘green-fingered’ in the same way again.

First published in CHILL COMPANY, 1976

Extinctions In Paradise by Brian Hodge

A bereaved journalist tries to lose himself in the chaos of a South American city, and makes friends with the local street-kids. But when a series of grisly murders commences, he wonders if there’s truth in the rumour that packs of young wolves are responsible.

Brian Hodge is one of the most thoughtful authors working in the genre today, and has here crafted a moving, heartfelt tale about life and death on society’s margins. He captures the exotic but faded atmosphere of Rio perfectly (though the city is never actually named), but also paints a grim picture of desperate slums, starving scavengers and rampant government forces prowling after them. It’s hot, it’s sordid – you can almost smell the fear and decay. But there are deep tracts below this riotous surface. Even the mutilation-killings, which mostly occur ‘off-camera’, are little more than an extra dash of colour in the mix. It’s the fate of neglected children everywhere which reverberates from these pages like a mournful howl. What a depraved world this story portrays. With a stratum of society so utterly abhorred that its members start transforming into monsters to defend themselves, the reactions range from stoic indifference, to sad approval, to “what does it matter? – let’s just keep killing them”. No-one is horrified or amazed except our journalist friend. But neither his bewilderment, nor ours, lasts for too long. Beautiful and grotesque in equal measure.

First published in WEREWOLVES (pictured), 1995.

Haigh hall horror night captured in pics

2011-05-05T00:25:00.000-07:00

Here's a very nice little descriptive piece by CRAIG PAY regarding the Haigh Hall horror night I presented on April 26.

Craig runs the Manchester Speculative Fiction Writers Group, and attended the horror night as part of the audience. As well as giving a detailed account of the event on his blog - from the positon of being completely neutral (Craig and I had never met until then), he also produced a rather neat photo-record, and has graciously allowed me to include some of his pictures here.

I won't say too much more because I've rabbited on plenty about this night already. But suffice to say that Craig's account, linked above, is well worth checking out.

Pictured: above, dusk descends on the eerie entrance to Haigh Hall, one of the most haunted houses in the whole of northern England. Below, in descending order: one of the Hall's many medieval tapestries, this one depicting the bloody duel between lord of the manor, William Bradshaigh and his bigamous rival, Henry Teuthor, around 1330, which resulted in the latter's death; yours truly during the reading of my new novella, The Upper Tier; and the real upper tier - the desolate and most haunted part of the building (a place where staff genuinely fear to go), as the guests tentatively shuffle their way into it.

Get your final dose of MEDI-EVIL mania

2011-04-30T02:18:00.000-07:00

Here, at last, is the final piece in the Medi-Evil jigsaw, the third volume, which again contains stories and novellas of historical horror and fantasy (not just medieval, I hasten to add, but drawn from all periods of the past).

The first two volumes appear to be selling reasonably well, but the nice thing about ebooks is that you never run out of stock. Please don’t let that delay you guys getting your orders in though (LOL).

Medi-Evil 3 can be purchased (or checked out) HERE.

It contains, the following five adventures:

The Gaff

It seemed that every bone in his body must be hinged or jointed. One very curious thing about him was the greyish tinge of his skin. And his bland expression. Didn’t he feel anything from his twisting and warping?

When Bobber and Ketch, two vicious Victorian criminals, opt to rob the London ‘gaff’ of the weird Professor Feltencaft, they encounter more horror than they could ever have imagined.

To Walk On Thorny Paths

By the light of a lantern, he examined the victims’ throats, and noted that, though the outer flesh and the oesophagus tissue beneath had been sliced from one side to the other, the wounds were ragged-edged and zigzagging.

On the eve of the ‘Bloodless Revolution’, political rivals are marooned together in a snowbound mansion. Soon they are dying one by one, as a nameless, non-human assailant begins to stalk them.

A Plague On Both Your Houses

Some of his jumps have allegedly been prodigious. Heights of 35ft have supposedly been achieved, and talk that he has a supernatural, if not Satanic, power is finally circulating.

Colonel Thorpe is the deadliest shot in the British Empire. There isn’t an animal alive he hasn’t hunted. But even Thorpe is bemused when a young officer recruits him to track down Victorian London’s infamous leaping madman, ‘Spring-Heeled Jack’.

The Destroyers

… this time he could see it in all its grisly glory: manlike, yes, almost, but with dark and gleaming skin and a face of fantastic malevolence. Crocodile teeth gleamed between lips curved in a manic grin; oriental eyes flashed cruelty beneath a heavy brocade of blue Moorish shadow …

After the destruction of Jerusalem in 1099, a band of crusaders crosses the desert in search of the Garden of Eden. Vengeance-seeking Saracens pursue them, along with something else – an indestructible monstrosity formed from the very elements of the Earth.

Colossus

It would not be killed, he realised; it could not be killed. It was now more horrible than at any time since he’d first seen it: fragments of flesh still adhered to it; its front was mangled, bashed-in, riddled with broken iron. But still it came on, sword in hand.

When their cannonball tears into a grassy mound, a Napoleonic gun-crew realise they have opened an ancient barrow. A wealth of treasure and artworks await them inside, but so does a mysterious guardian, who will stop at nothing to protect the secret hoard.

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, the plan is to publish these collections in printed form as well, hopefully sometime in the next couple of months. So those of you who aren’t too keen on the electronic medium, will also be able to indulge yourselves. Watch this space for further developments on that front.

The Power of Three - 23rd Installment

2011-04-28T16:02:00.000-07:00

Well … weeks of turmoil have now passed in terms of what can only be described as a supercharged workload, but I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to spoil another of your Friday morning coffee breaks. Not that most of you will be having one today, of course, because yet again we’re on the Bank Holiday trail. But I’ve already missed one ‘Power of Three’ this month, and certainly can’t be allowed to do it again.

So here, for your delectation – whether you recollect them over desk-side coffee, or while sitting with a laptop on your knee, watching the Royal Wedding on the goggle box in the corner - are three more of the world’s greatest scary stories.

Remember them and shriek.

The Long-Term Residents by Kit Pedler

A stressed scientist takes a break in a charming seaside hotel, but the attractive landlady is someone he thinks he remembers committing suicide, and why are his fellow guests content to remain in the hotel lounge, rarely conversing? Only when it’s too late does he realise why he’s been lured here.

An ingenious but thoroughly unpleasant little chiller from Kit Pedler, famous for his work on Doctor Who but also in his capacity as a medical scientist. In fact, Pedler’s scientific training comes through strongly here. He doesn’t just write with an economy of words that would do justice to any lab report, but he also presents us with complex chemical and biological issues, though rather helpfully it’s all expressed in language a layman can understand. We’re also dealing with a significant philosophical argument. It’s been done before – particularly in vampire stories, though this is not a vampire story by any means – but just how generous is a person being when they extend your life indefinitely but for their own purposes? The hero, Riker, has a reached a stage where he doesn’t know if he wants to go on. His love life’s a mess, his career dissatisfactory. He’s mentally and emotionally exhausted, and how will prolonging things improve that, especially when it looks as if the next century at least will be spent in this pokey little hotel lounge, which like any good greenhouse, is stultifyingly hot and humid? Understated sci-fi horror at its finest.

First published in THE SEVENTH GHOST BOOK, 1971.

The Man Who Drew Cats by Michael Marshall Smith

A peaceful atmosphere in a small town is spoiled by the presence of a drunken bully, who frequently beats his wife and step-son. Then a mysterious artist gets involved; a laconic guy who one day starts work on the image of a terrifying tiger.

When first published, this masterwork of sumptuous Bradbury-esque prose was seen as Mike Marshall Smith’s signature story. But he’s gone on to produce so many visionary tales since then, all so different from each other in terms of tone, style and subtext, that it’s now regarded as just one of his many milestones in strange fiction. However, I suppose the big question must be – can you class this as horror? Well what else? At the end of the day you’re dealing with extreme offences, which can only be countered by extreme measures. You’re talking horrific parental and spousal cruelty, but an even more horrific reckoning for those responsible. You’re also of course dealing with the paranormal, the supernatural, the demonic, the angelic – call it what you will. Just because it has a happy ending, that doesn’t mean it isn’t a horror story. It’s not exactly gore-free, either. By the same token, Tom, the brooding street-artist who almost by virtue of his own dark will is able to create monsters with chalk and paint, rapidly emerges as one of those iconic figures of weird literature. Michael Moorcock would have been proud.

First published in DARK VOICES 2 (pictured), 1990.

The Signal-Man by Charles Dickens

A traveller visits a lonely signal box in a deep railway cutting, only to meet a disturbed signal-man, who insists that whenever he sees a mysterious hooded figure at the entrance to the nearby tunnel, disaster soon strikes. Unfortunately, he has seen the figure again that very week.

Probably one of the most famous and most popular ghost stories ever written, but neither the world’s familiarity with it nor its great age will lessen the impact if, by some remote chance, you have yet to experience it. Dickens was a lover of ghost stories, of course, but here he boxes clever, choosing to leave the matter open. Is there a genuine supernatural power at work? If there is, we are never told why it has chosen this spot or this particular individual to haunt. Or has the signal-man, a lonely character somewhat bereft at his isolated post, simply invented the spectral shape that always seems to precede a tragedy? The traveller is undecided, and by the end so is the reader. For all that, it’s a superbly eerie and atmospheric piece. Dickens utilises the misty moorland location and the bleak, echoing canyon to great effect. A survivor of a terrible railway accident himself, he also recalls with shattering clarity the horror and carnage of such incidents. One of the oldest tales we’ve featured on this blog, but still one of the best.

First published in ALL THE YEAR ROUND, 1866.

Next catapult-load of MEDI-EVIL mayhem

2011-04-28T00:41:00.000-07:00

The latest edition in my historical horror ebook trilogy, MEDI-EVIL 2, is now available. As with MEDI-EVIL 1, these are not exclusively tales of the Middle Ages, but come from various periods of our history, primarily those eras when terror and turmoil lay close at hand.

Buy it (or check it out) HERE

Medi-Evil 3 will hopefully be out in the next week or so. I must admit, creating these ebooks proved a little more testing than we expected, but it's all still pretty new, I suppose. For those not yet sold on the electonic reading revolution, the plan is still to do print versions of these three collections in the next month or so.

Anyway, here's the slug ...

MEDI-EVIL 2

Three tales of historical mystery interwoven with horror, fantasy and adventure

Twilight In The Orm-Garth

Even as they gazed at it, the abhorrence clutched the bars with hands the size of shovels, each knotted finger surmounted with a dirt-encrusted dagger for a nail. An eye-watering stench poured off it …

When Norman baron Dagobert of Caux assembles his family to celebrate his fiftieth birthday, he faces the double-threat of a Saxon uprising and a Viking incursion. But a far greater menace is posed by the Korred, a blood-soaked monster from the mists of Britain’s pagan past.

The Amphibians

Often, when I was walking, I’d sink as deep as my knees, sometimes my thighs. Once or twice I went clean through … into brine as black and cold as swamp-water, only the luminous eyes of fish to light the chasms beneath.

A gunsmith’s apprentice leads a busy but mundane existence, until he joins forces with a roguish seaman who is being hunted by a murderous foe from the dark, weed-choked waters of the Sargasso Sea, the deadliest and most exotic ocean in the world.

For We Are Many

Another creak followed, another and another – and suddenly it was plainly obvious that they were footfalls. Somebody was moving about up there, padding stealthily. Flavia peered at the plaster ceiling, clutching the candle so hard that it squashed out of shape …

When a Roman officer learns that the new Christian god has power over disembodied spirits, he rescues Flavia, a condemned Christ follower, from the dismemberment block – but only on the condition that she will help him exorcise the violent and mysterious entity that haunts his country manse.

Fearful fun as dark secrets are revealed

2011-04-27T02:11:00.000-07:00

Well … everyone survived.

Apart from someone fainting during the tour of the top floor, our Haigh Hall horror night passed without any unsavoury incidents. I’m glad to report that my rendition of The Upper Tier (pictured) also went without a hitch.

Various members of the audience assured me afterwards that it was a clear, well-paced presentation, and that they enjoyed the story immensely. I’m quite pleased by that as Wigan audiences are nothing if not honest. Two years ago, I performed a different reading at a library in Wigan, and one of the ladies who’d turned up told me afterwards, in a very frank tone, that she hadn’t enjoyed it at all, as it was “much too horrible for her”. So hopefully this time I hit all the right notes.

A couple of people have emailed to ask if, now the night is complete, I can explain the background to The Upper Tier, which is based very loosely on a disastrous ghost-hunting expedition to Haigh Hall in 1947. Basically I can’t, or rather I won’t – not yet. I’m hoping to publish The Upper Tier later this year as part of a new collection, and it wouldn’t be cool if I gave away too much detail at this early stage. Put it this way, the 1947 event had a very, very serious outcome for several of those involved, while the paranormal activity reported was apparently astonishing. (I’ll keep everyone informed regarding progress with this publication – it won’t be for a few months yet, I’m sorry to say).

Interestingly enough, I spent some of last night in company with a modern-day paranormal investigator, who is now very keen to get his team into Haigh Hall despite the embargo on this kind of activity that the local authority have imposed. Last night for example, though we got permission to tour the top floor, the legendary Noah’s Ark Room remained firmly closed. Nobody was allowed to enter, ostensibly because it isn’t safe, though I suspect the real reason is because there have been so many alleged incidents in there. Anyway, my ghost-hunting pal, who has held vigils in northwest ghostly locations as varied as Muncaster Castle, Chingle Hall and the Morecambe Winter Gardens, was very impressed by the look and feel of Wigan’s own version of Borley Rectory, and feels he may be able to pull enough strings to gain entry. If so, he will be the first for about 20 years. He’s already enquired if I’d be prepared to accompany him. Well … what kind of horror writer would I be if I refused?

As I said before, nothing seriously odd was reported from last night’s tour of the upper tier, apart from the brief fainting fit and a couple of folks complaining that they felt ill up there, though a former newspaper editor of mine, who was also present, said that there was definitely an atmosphere in that place. He was at the rear of the group, and told me afterwards that he constantly felt as if somebody was walking behind him. He reckons he won’t be going back up there in a hurry.

We did take some photographs during the course of the tour, but all the ones I’ve seen this morning are too dark. You can’t really see anything except shapes in the dimness, and the odd rotted doorway.

One final thing – it may be nothing, but it’s got to be worth mentioning. At the end of the night, one of the downstairs staff (only specially designated staff will go upstairs) asked me if everyone had now come down. I replied that I thought they had. She then asked me “whose is the child?” When I replied that no children had attended, she laughed as if she thought I was joking. I assured her that I wasn’t, and she said that it didn’t matter. I later found out that, as everyone had been leaving by the Hall’s main door, she’d heard what had sounded like a child whimpering in the dark recesses above. When I spoke to the lady again, she said that she’d probably just been mistaken.

Yeah, right ...

Tonight's the night - no turning back now!

2011-04-26T04:52:00.000-07:00

In 1947, part of the parapsychology team made famous by their enquiries at Borley Rectory attempted to investigate Haigh Hall, a Regency Gothic built on the site of a medieval manor house on the outskirts of Wigan, Lancashire, reputedly one of the most haunted properties in the whole of the north of England. What happened to that team has become the stuff of ghost-hunting legend.

Without doubt, this is one of the most disturbing episodes in the entire history of paranormal enquiry. To call this investigation ‘a disaster’ would be underselling it in a big way, though the actual details are rarely leaked as the local authority, who now own Haigh Hall, have clamped down on it hard.

Subsequent vigils there have also had bizarre outcomes, with investigators hospitalised or frightened out of their wits – in one case, a very experienced chap had to be sectioned in an asylum. Though none of these events (most of which are detailed in earlier posts on this blog) can even compare with the truly terrible incident in 1947, Wigan Local Authority decided in the early 1990s that enough was enough and issued an order that no further paranormal enquiries could be held at Haigh Hall. Not only that, they closed the upper tier of the building to all but essential staff, as this was deemed to be the epicentre of very violent ghostly (though would also call it ‘demonic’) activity.

Since then, of course, there have been occasional reports about Haigh Hall, though as the public are only normally admitted to the downstairs area, which is still open for official functions, these have been few and far between. But nobody believes that the evil lurking upstairs has gone away, least of all the staff responsible for maintaining the venerable old mansion. They are the unwilling protectors of this ancient building’s secrets, though these secrets won’t remain secrets for much longer. Tonight, as part of the Wigan Literature Festival, and as dusk descends on the lush, overgrown woodland that surrounds Haigh Hall, I shall be hosting a special ghost story evening in its main ballroom, and reading my new novella, The Upper Tier, which draws directly on the ghastly horror that struck this place way back in 1947. (It’s a ticket-only event, of course, so unfortunately no-one can just turn up at the door, if they haven't already booked).

When I was initially approached to do this, I was obviously delighted but I also felt a little trepidation. So frightening are some of the stories concerning Haigh Hall that witnesses have supposedly never recovered from them. Others who’ve experienced things here have refused ever to return, even in daylight. It was always going to be a challenge, but in preparing for this night I’ve had the chance to look the Hall over thoroughly, including the upper tier, which I’ve now visited several times. It is achingly eerie up there: derelict, web-shrouded and groaning with disuse. It is also easy to imagine that you aren’t alone while traversing its gutted rooms and bleak corridors. Whether this owes to what people like me already know about this place, or to a genuine supernatural presence is a matter for debate. But there are so many tight corners, so many dark and narrow passages, so many curious markings on the mottled walls that the aura of brooding menace is all but tangible.

Perhaps because of this, it soon became plain to me that I couldn’t just reveal to our guests the mysteries of this uncanny place without allowing them to have a look for themselves. So tonight – for the first time in a long time – the general public, at least those members of the public who have tickets for my presentation, will not just hear the full, uncensored account of what happened there in 1947, but they will be admitted to the upper tier, where it all occurred.

It took all our powers of persuasion, but we finally got permission for this. And in case anyone thinks this is a joke, we then found that we had another problem to contend with – only one of the tour guides volunteered, and now that the day is upon us, he is far from comfortable about going up there.

It’s now lunchtime as I write this. The clock is ticking. I too am beginning to wonder if we maybe we’ve all made the biggest mistake of our lives …

For those who haven’t visited this blog before, the above pic, which comes to us courtesy of ‘Wigan Observer’ snapper, Nick Fairhurst, shows yours truly in the much-feared Noah’s Ark Room, regarded by many as the malevolent heart of Haigh Hall’s notorious upper tier.

Massacres and mayhem, MEDI-EVIL style

2011-04-24T14:16:00.000-07:00

Here's a brutal scene of medieval mayhem, which will be repeated many times, occasionally even more graphically than is is here, in MEDI-EVIL, my new trilogy of ebooks exclusively packed with historically themed novellas and short stories.

They aren't just medieval stories; they come from all periods of Earth's history, but I liked the title, so there. However, I can guarantee that all are full-blooded horrors, chillers and suspensers. The first volume is now available HERE.

The above picture is nothing to do with it, I should add, but you must admit it's rather eye-catching. For further detail concerning the synopses in MEDI-EVIL 1, check the post below this one (and keep an eye out in the next week or so for MEDI-EVIL 1 & 2).

On a slightly different subject, I've just completed had a busy two days on the DOCTOR WHO scene. At Waterstone's in Wigan yesterday, I signed 30 copies of my new novel HUNTER'S MOON for the fans (pictured below), which was a very rewarding experience. Thanks to Kate and Cherryl for looking after me so well. All the kids who came into the shop also enjoyed playing with a transistorised Dalek, running it around a specially laid-out obstacle course (pictured at the bottom) - until some bloke came striding in and accidentally kicked it like a rugby ball, smashing it to bits while a couple of youngsters were actually in the process of ussing it. (I suppose it's just a good job he didn't kick one of them).

Today, meanwhile, I was down in leafy Chesham, at the 'Act III' (Dr Who again) Convention, signing copies of SENTINELS OF THE NEW DAWN, my latest audio drama from Big Finish. It was another enjoyable day, made all the more pleasant by the presence on my table and panel of top writer and all-round good egg, the indefatigable Rob Shearman, Big Finish producer David Richardson, writer and script-editor John Dorney, and actors John Banks and Beth Chalmers.

It was also a lot of fun to meet Katy Manning and Lousie Jameson, but that would be name-dropping, wouldn't it, heh heh heh ...