Maniac Gods

Maniac Gods is the new novella from Rich Hawkins and is published by the Sinister Horror Company. I’ve been a fan of Rich’s writing since his novella Black Star, Black Sun which I read back in 2015. Since then, his output has been nothing less than impressive, including the post-apocalyptic Last Plague trilogy of novels and his bloody and visceral take on vampire lore King Carrion.

Apocalyptic themes have been a constant in Rich’s writing and such is the case with this new novella. It tells the story of Albie Samways – a typical everyman Hawkins protagonist – whose daughter Millie disappears, along with the inhabitants of the village in which she lives, victims of a bizarre cult intent on bringing about their own version of the end days. The bond between father and child is another recurring motif in Rich’s books and here, as in all the other books, it provides a profound and moving emotional core to the story, a shining light amidst the darkness which engulfs everything around it.

It takes real skill to present such tender moments and not make them saccharine and this is most certainly the case here. Throughout, the writing is of such a high standard that I honestly think this is the best thing Rich has written. Just as these moments of hope and light pluck the appropriate emotional strings, so do the moments of horror. Where some would revel in the opportunity to layer on the descriptive prose, the approach here is the polar opposite. Indeed, many of the most horrific passages read almost like lists, basic descriptions of the nightmarish scenes and characters Albie encounters. Sparse and yet poetic at the same time it’s a devastatingly effective technique. The lean, stripped prose put me in mind of Adam Nevill, the creatures here presented akin to those of that author’s imagination but also to the very best of Clive Barker in his heyday.

And what horrors… Rich has created here a memorable set of creatures, most notably the Flayed – a group whose very name leaves nothing (yet somehow everything) to the imagination – acolytes to the mysterious leader of the cult Dr Ridings, himself a wonderful creation, his features hidden behind a bronze mask.

Religion is not so much a subtext of the novella than an integral part of it. It’s notable that Ridings calls those who oppose him “infidel” –a term perhaps more closely linked to certain faiths nowadays but which is a generic term for any non-believer. A key scene plays out in the wonderfully named Red Cathedral. It’s the gods worshipped by Ridings and his followers which provide the Lovecraftian overtones to the book, ancient deities lurking in other dimensions, awaiting their chance to break through the thin places.

Maniac Gods is a story brimming with so many great ideas that it might have worked better as a novel. That said, the shorter word count brings with it a sense of frantic urgency to the narrative, resulting in a thrilling ride towards a conclusion which is as good, and effective, as everything which has gone before.

This could be the quintessential Rich Hawkins book. For those who have yet to experience his writing there could be no better starting place. For those already familiar with his work, Maniac Gods will bring a warm tingle of recognition, and a new appreciation of his talent. At the very least, it should cement his reputation as one of the best writers currently working in the horror genre.

King Carrion.

King Carrion is the new novella from Rich Hawkins and is published by The Sinister HorrorCompany. Both author and publisher are on a bit of a roll at the moment with a veritable flood of literary delights washing over the horror landscape. It’s often the case that quantity is inversely proportional to quality but that certainly isn’t the case for Sinister Horror – who are producing some top-notch books – or Rich himself who continues a run of consistently entertaining horror stories with this novella, his take on vampire lore.

The novella opens with a deeply atmospheric prologue set in 49 AD Northern England. It’s a stunning opening to the book which I loved every moment of. There’s much dramatic imagery on display here, and some lovely prose. I loved the line “The wind mourned the loss of another day.” The opening sets the scene brilliantly, and introduces the titular character, a creature of darkness – its face hidden behind swaddled rags, tainted with the smell of death and corruption…

All jolly stuff then, and topped up with a multiple sacrifice. The Romans are coming however, and amongst the many things they did for us was to attempt to wipe out pagan beliefs in their occupied territories and so it is that King Carrion makes his escape, hiding away from the world until the time is right to emerge once again and claim dominion.

It’s a great prologue, and I wish it could have gone on longer but, no sooner is the page turned than we’re transported to the modern day. Enter Mason, an archetypal Hawkins protagonist, a man of sorrows, just released from prison after serving time for causing a fatal road accident. Mason is haunted by the accident, those terrors manifesting themselves in the form of the Dead Girl, the innocent victim of his crime.

Mason’s journey back to see his wife lead him to a town in southern England – at precisely the same time that King Carrion has returned from his self-imposed exile. Cue much gory action and suspense as KC (and his moonshine band) run riot through the streets, converting the populace to vampires.

Nothing sparkles here except the prose; these vampires are vicious, feral beasts who revel in the death and destruction they bring about. These are definitely at the 30 Days of Night end of the vampire spectrum.

There are few who can write an action set-piece better than Rich and he has a field day here, describing the numerous battles with the vampire horde. What makes him an even better writer is that he can handle the quitter stuff with aplomb too. There’s proper emotion going on here amidst the gore.

All things of course lead to a climactic encounter with King Carrion himself at the vampire’s vividly described lair…

I loved King Carrion, a great example of old-school horror delivered with style and gusto. My one criticism of the book is that – as with the prologue – it’s too short. This criticism is two-fold; firstly for selfish reasons – I wanted to spend more time enjoying the book, but secondly because I think the material required a longer form, there’s enough going on here to fill a novel easily.

There’s a scene where Mason glimpses a vision of King Carrion’s past life and experiences which cried out for more detail and, as mentioned earlier, the prologue could easily have been extended. Cramming so much into a novella-length book certainly moves the story along at a cracking pace but the world Rich has created here is one I think would definitely benefit from a higher word count.

This minor quibble aside, I really do recommend that you check this novella out. You’ll have a blast and at the same time enjoy the writing of one of the future stars of the horror writing world. Rich already has an impressive back catalogue and I’m certain this is indicative of great things ahead.

You can buy King Carrion here.

Hexagram

Hexagram is the new novel from Duncan B Bradshaw and is published by The Sinister HorrorCompany. It’s a bit of an epic, with the story spanning almost 500 years and taking in a variety of locations, beginning in the Inca capital of Cuzco in 1538 and progressing, via separate sections, through the Florida of 1716, American Civil War Cobb County, Georgia 1864, Ripper-era London and the Bahamas of 1981 before culminating (almost) in present day Wiltshire.

The underlying concept of the book is the notion that we are all made of stardust but provides a very dark twist on it – namely that the use of said dust, harvested from the dead, could be used in a religious ceremony to summon Gods.

The harvesting, of course, requires much rummaging around in viscera – a process gleefully described by the author on many occasions and which provides the core of the horror on display within the novel. It takes skill to write scenes like this, it’s all too easy to go for shock and gross-out but the scenes of disembowelment and evisceration are actually reined in, presented in such a way as to not be over the top and gratuitous but as a natural progression of the narrative – and, as such, are all the more effective for it.

It’s a gory book for sure but there’s a lot more to it than that. There is great imagination on display here, along with some very good writing indeed. There are even moments of real emotion amidst the gloriously dark humour. Again, it’s a fine line between being humorous and, well… being stupid but it’s one Duncan stays absolutely on the right side of all the way through.

There may be some dialogue in the opening chapters which feels a little anachronistic, but other than that the period detail is spot on. Duncan has obviously done his research and it shows. Facts are never shoe-horned into the narrative (no doing a Dan Simmons here) but are placed carefully to enhance the reading experience. If I have a criticism it’s that the Ripper section felt a wee bit short to me but that’s maybe because it’s a period of history I’m (a little bit too) fascinated in myself.

The story’s a high-concept one and its narrative is cleverly kept going with subtle links between the different sections. I have to say I had a blast with Hexagram, devouring it in a couple of sittings. (Despite its epic themes, it’s not a long novel). Clever, witty and extremely well written, I highly recommend it to your reading pleasure.