brennanlafaro's reviews
249 reviews

A Life Transparent by Todd Keisling

Go to review page

4.0

Before Devil’s Creek knocked the indie horror scene on it’s ass last year, there was A Life Transparent. You just didn’t know it. While elements of horror pop up in the first entry in the Monochrome trilogy in the form of monsters and a creepy villain, the real horror comes from the everyday.
Following main character Donovan Candle, Keisling explores the all-too common idea of falling into a joysucking vocation that doesn’t remotely resemble what you thought you’d be doing with your life. Sacrificing your worth for a steady 9-5 paycheck. Candle begins to flicker in and out of existence and the story snowballs from there, delving into the weird and territory that would feel at home in science fiction.
Keisling’s characters serve as archetypes, telling a cautionary tale as much as exploring a personal journey. The strife revolving around everything from being underappreciated in a dead-end job to trying to balance personal responsibility with truly living make the story and main characters immensely relatable.
The degree of fear harnessed from fading away while the rest of the world remains indifferent around you reaches out to a primal nature within us all.
Keisling keeps the first book in this trilogy well contained while offering up nuggets and leaving some threads to tug on for future stories. We end up with a book that satisfies on its own, but teases the reader with a wider world and further adventures to be had. The expanded version, namely the added coda, go a long way with set up, and the afterword from the author serve to enhance the reader’s understanding and enjoyment.
Check out A Life Transparent from Bloodshot Books and be on the lookout for the other books in the trilogy - The Liminal Man and Non-Entity - coming later this year.

I received a copy from the author for review consideration.
Horrorama by A.S. Coomer, Lucas Mangum, Matt Harvey

Go to review page

4.0

Short story anthologies are cool and all, but collected novelettes/novellas? They are less frequent, but it’s a format that works for various reasons. Last year’s Lullabies for Suffering, edited by Mark Matthews allowed its authors to explore character deeper than the standard 10-20 pages of a short story allows. A very necessary component in a book that focuses on addiction and grief. Horrorama, edited by CV Hunt utilizes the longer form for a different reason.
Each story is meant to mimic a ninety minute schlocky horror movie. Maybe it reminds of you parking yourself in front of the TV on an October evening, letting the scrolling TV guide channel be your, well, guide. Maybe it reminds you of a drive-in double (triple, in this case) feature. From the stories themselves, to the cover resembling a VHS tape, to mock-ups of an old issue of TV guides within, everything about Horrorama screams nostalgia, and despite my best efforts, that draws me in.
The strongest in the bunch is the first, Store-All Self Storage, from A.S. Coomer. The first person narration and vivid descriptions of the narrator’s new job make you not want to touch anything because it’s definitely going to be sticky. From a dull and kind of strange new job to nightly happenings that get weirder and weirder with every day that passes, Commer winds up taking us to some very messed up places. Like the kind of movie, it sets out to represent, the story doesn’t overstay its welcome.
Primitive, from Lucas Mangum, gives us the group of friends on a getaway trope. We simply assume from page one they’re not all making it off the mountain alive. What follows is a gore-riddled creature feature with enough lore and character development to keep the reader turning the pages.
I had a bit more trouble getting into The Vessel, from Matt Harvey. A cult’s attempt to revive their dark god seems the perfect cap to a triple feature of this nature. Despite the subject matter, this last offering doesn’t offer up the same cinematic, picture-this-in-your-head quality as the other two. An enjoyable enough story, it just strayed from a well put together theme.
Hayward's Revenge by Cailyn Lloyd

Go to review page

4.0

One of the best things about Cailyn Lloyd’s Elders series is the settings each book revolves around. A haunted house, or at least the like, in Shepherd’s Warning. An underground cavern in Quinlan’s Secret. Now a forbidding lighthouse aptly named the doors of death in Hayward’s Revenge. The first two books told largely different stories with some intertwining details, but the third and final installment ties it together and puts a nice bow on it.
The evil force that’s been plaguing the characters from the first two books finally gets a name here as things get intense enough to draw the McKenzies in with Kiera and Willow. Threads are tied to link everything that’s been happening. Essentially, Hayward’s Revenge does what you hope the final book in a trilogy will do.
What sets it apart is that, even though it serves as a bookend, it could function as a standalone as well if one were so inclined. Lloyd gives us glimpses into earlier events, a brief “previously on” for the seasoned reader that provides enough useful bits of exposition to allow a new reader to enjoy the ride. Would you appreciate the characters as much if meeting them for the first time? Probably not as much, but Lloyd still provides depth and connection relevant to the story at hand.
Some may find fault with the ending, not being content to wrap everything up with an ending that overexplains and eschews ambiguity. Lloyd finds the middle ground of providing answers and giving the reader closure, even if it’s not set in stone, and leaving the created world open for more stories. For the reader who enjoys drawing their own conclusion for what happens next, you’ll be satisfied.
Lloyd’s inviting style of writing is once again on display. Her voice takes us from page one of Shepherd’s Warning to page 359 of Hayward’s Revenge setting the scenes in an effective way that doesn’t allow description to overstay its welcome. Vivid action scenes rife with sensory description are sprinkled throughout (Be on the lookout for a scene involving lightning and a sword) and the pacing fills 300 plus pages nicely without meandering and allowing the reader to get bored.
A strong trilogy from start to finish, if you’re not reading Cailyn Lloyd’s fiction, you’re doing yourself a major league disservice.

I received a copy from the author for review consideration.
In Darkness, Shadows Breathe by Catherine Cavendish

Go to review page

4.0

I won’t pretend to be a Cavendish expert, but I’ve come to expect certain things from her work. Namely atmosphere and English seaside settings. While In Darkness, Shadows Breathe holds on tight to the atmosphere, the setting takes us in a different and entirely unexpected direction.
We follow Carol at first, and though we stay rooted in the character, Cavendish plays with the idea of time as a linear construct to develop a sense of paranoia and unease, the likes of which we strive for in horror. Quality horror is not simply ghosts in your bedroom at night or a monster jumping out from behind a corner. It’s creating an atmosphere that leaves the reader uncomfortable. Unsettled and unsure of what to believe. It lays the foundation beautifully for what’s to come.
Part two comes in and not only are we following a different character, but we’ve switched from third-person to first. Another device dropped in subtly to create a feeling of disconnect. We get to know Vanessa and places and people begin to reoccur. Inevitably, the two stories collide head-on.
While I admit I don’t always read Acknowledgements, these ones are worth reading. Cavendish details a personal struggle that she worked into this book, and it serves to enhance the vibrancy and emotional toil the character in question faced. You can argue the work speaks for itself, and I won’t fight you on it, but knowing the behind-the-scenes account for how a character was fleshed out and brought to life tends to enhance the experience for me.
It’s hard to pick a stronger book between In Darkness, Shadows Breathe and last year’s The Malan Witch, but luckily I don’t have to, and neither do you. The story in this book is really good, but the writing is great. If you like stories that instill a sense of paranoia and mistrust using a variety of storytelling and literary devices, this is for you.

I received a copy from the publisher for review consideration.
Hearts Strange and Dreadful by Tim McGregor

Go to review page

5.0

Off Limits Press is currently batting a thousand after kicking things off with last year’s Crossroads by Laurel Hightower, followed by The Worm and His Kings by Hailey Piper. Two very tough acts to follow, but McGregor’s Hearts Strange and Dreadful is up to the task.
McGregor was a new-to-me name despite having well over ten books to his name. The historical horror aspect combined with the early-1800’s New England setting caught my attention and the publisher on the back cover cemented it. Hester Stokely, an orphan who lost her parents in a fire, lives with her aunt and uncle in Wickstead, RI. Death rides into town one day in the form of a sickly man on a horse, and the novel unfolds from there.
McGregor interweaves the threads masterfully, slowly unfurling a quiet horror rife with creepy atmosphere, great characterization, and a touch of paranoia as the mystery of what’s happening in Wickstead is revealed. The main element that successfully contributes to the atmosphere is the isolation conveyed surrounding the town. The relative distance to any other towns delivers the kind of small-town horror we get in books like Todd Keisling’s Devil’s Creek but with an added layer of being completely disconnected from the outside world. Whatever is happening, no one out there can help or save them.
The characterisation feels (note feels because I haven’t done the research) very genuine to the time period. Writing a first-person POV from a teenage girl in 1821 is arguably a bold move, but it pays off. McGregor provides insight to Hester Stokely that couldn’t have come any other way. The characters surrounding her, from her Uncle Pardon to Will and Henry, all feel fully fleshed out and move the story into a place that makes us suspect McGregor knew what he was doing from the first word.
I won’t go on about the end of the book for fear of spoilers, but if you begin and feel as though the story is moving too slow, do yourself a favor and stick with it. The set-up is utterly necessary for the payoffs that come later and the emotional weight they bring with them.
Hearts Strange and Dreadful is something of a perfect storm. An intriguing premise brought to life by vibrant characters who make the reader care when events ramp up ultimately resulting in an ending that requires the reader be invested, or it doesn’t work. A gamble on McGregor’s part, but one that pays off in spades. The Off Limits run on quality horror continues.

I received a copy from the publisher for review consideration.

The Searching Dead by Ramsey Campbell

Go to review page

The Searching Dead is the first book in a trilogy, originally released in 2016 but never widely available in the U.S. Flame Tree Press will be rectifying that over the next couple years, first with this one then with Born to the Dark next October, and The Way of the Worm following that.
My exposure to Ramsey Campbell has been limited, having read only one other novel and various short fiction. Even with that narrow array, the elements that make Campbell a legend in horror are obvious. Atmosphere is the first word that comes to mind, and it’s what makes The Searching Dead such a pleasure. Is pleasure the right word? Campbell tells a coming-of-age story that strays from the typical fare we’ve come to expect in books like It and Ghoul. These books give an authentic account of growing up in the 50’s or 80’s in small-town America, wearing their hearts on their sleeves. And they’re phenomenal. But The Searching Dead gives us a different viewpoint, that of 1950’s Liverpool.
It’s the quiet, subtle friendship between Dominic, Jim, and Bobby combined with the immersive nature of being in a catholic school and a community reflecting the charter of the school that contributes to the atmosphere’s effect on the story. The growth of the ‘tremendous three’, as they’re, dubbed feels authentic, from the beginnings of their collective rebellion in terms of strong language to attempts to explore feelings of friendship and perhaps more.
The book has creepy elements including the development of Christian Noble, the antagonist who begins as a teacher but doesn’t quite fit the community’s expectations. The Searching Dead succeeds equally in setting up his story as bringing us into the lives of Dom, Jim, and Bobby. The inclusion of Noble’s family paints a vivid picture, including his father setting events into motion, as well as his wife and daughter vividly walk us through the upheaval of a normally quiet town.
Like previous work I’ve read by Campbell, The Searching Dead moves at something of a slow-burn pace. New readers may find the pacing not to their taste but should stick with it. Once the cogs of the story begin to click into place, the reader is drawn in, potentially against their will, needing to discover what happens next. It’ll be a long wait for the next book in the series, but I’ll be anxiously looking forward to the next installment.

I received a copy from the publisher for review consideration.
Clementine's Awakening by Jennifer Soucy

Go to review page

dark mysterious

4.0

Happy Women in Horror Month, people. Still looking for something to add to that lady-led TBR pile for the rest of February? Look no further. Clementine’s Awakening is the latest release from Silver Shamrock, toted as southern gothic horror. While it doesn’t fit perfectly into the subgenre, Soucy keeps the slow-burn elements until she doesn’t. She also displays an essence of quiet horror, until she gets loud.
It’s a truly enjoyable book from start to finish that had me playing the “just one more chapter” game until I ran out of story. There’s a lot on display that works here, as well as a thing or two that doesn’t, but the extent of the success can be boiled down to one word. Clementine. It is her story after all, so shouldn’t the lead be relatable, loveable, and make you enjoy the time you spend in their world? Well, yeah, and Soucy nails every element here. Clementine is thrust into strong environments here. For one, a new restaurant job that reeks of authenticity. Seriously, if you’ve ever worked in food service before, Soucy captures the tension, anxiety, and busyness perfectly. She also captures the disappearing into the basement so people will leave you alone for two seconds perfectly. This is where she meets Rosemary, the ghost of a slave who’s mystery acts to catalyze the rest of the story.
It would’ve been all too easy to lose track of who Clementine is, losing her in the bustling restaurant setting or even the backdrop of Savannah, Georgia which Soucy skillfully brings to life, making the reader feel like they’ve been there. Like they know it’s ins, outs, and secrets. Instead, Soucy grounds the character through the relationship with her mother, something that hit home for me, knowing someone who has been through the same struggles, and through her blossoming friendship with Lula, my favorite character in the story.
My one issue with the story is Henry, Clementine’s love interest. We spend a lot of time developing this character, and as a reader I will rarely, if ever, complain about taking time for character development, but it ultimately feels like we don’t get very far. We know he’s a big guy, a talented musician, and would do anything for Clementine, but in a story where the other characters are so rich, his lack of flaws and problems stand out.
Making him stand apart from Clementine could have caused events toward the end of the book to carry more weight, though this is a small gripe, because the events pull off shock and surprise in spades. This could certainly be attributed to the villain of the piece, Thomas Abernathy. He is creepy as anything, and although we get backstory, there’s enough mystery left over to keep the reader properly looking over their shoulder, as up north as they may be.
Clementine’s Awakening is the first thing I’ve read by Jennifer Soucy, but it sure as hell won’t be the last. An engaging story that brings not only a cast of characters to life on the page, but an entire city. The author should be commended for weaving a magic throughout the narrative that brings the reader in and doesn’t let them leave until every last thread has been unraveled. I can see the endings causing some rifts, but I enjoyed it.
The Flashlighters: Nightmareland Volume Four by Daniel Barnett

Go to review page

4.0

There’s something different in the air this time around. By the time you pick up The Flashlighters, you’re approximately 400 pages into this post-apocalyptic adventure/nightmare. Nightventure? Nah.
The story feels as though it has two standalone acts. Before we meet the flashlighters and after. John Hawthorne is back with us now, and if you don’t know what that means, why are you reading a review for the fourth book in the series? The days of having a functional vehicle are numbered, and the trio (including Mariah and Marcos) tries to solve the issue only to find themselves set upon by a batch of nightmare creatures. If I gave you any more description than that, I’d be doing Barnett’s prose and ability to paint a vivid picture a serious disservice.
Here’s where the different air comes in, the “book four”-ness of it all. The shift from act one to act two is abrupt, and may not have worked had it come too early in the series. At this point, Barnett is asking us to trust him and stick with the change in direction and most readers, myself included, are going to be inclined to do just that. He’s earned it.
It pays off too. The introduction to the group who call themselves the Flashlighters is a game changer. Barnett excels here at allowing us to see glimpses of Father Ammon, Greg, and Sam. The reader feeds off the sense of mistrust our main characters feel automatically. By the time it’s all said and done, we realize this group is going to be with us a bit longer and we’ve started to form our opinions, though we suspect there’s still a lot to learn.
Volume four leaves us in a place we haven’t been before, not just anxiously awaiting what comes next, but anticipating how our core three will react to the potential communal aspects of what’s ahead. The finale leans heavy on the supernatural elements of this apocalyptic event, and is not at all afraid to bring the gore. It’s a satisfying 160 pages that introduces interesting elements and keeps the momentum going without fail. Four in, and my excitement for the series hasn’t waned in the slightest.

I received a copy from the author for review consideration.
End Of The Road by Brian Keene

Go to review page

5.0

Brian Keene’s The End of the Road has a lot to offer within its pages. Opening it up, it strikes as Keene’s attempt to capture various snapshots of one last trip to bookstores and various venues to sign and promote upcoming releases, before he puts that behind him. You get that of course, the entries touch on a lot more.
If you listen carefully, you get a history of the horror genre. Not just through a big lens either. Keene details what made a mid-list author, ins and outs of publishing, offering his take on, historically, what works and what doesn’t, as well as how the landscape is changing and given the social climate, just how little we can do to stop it. Newer authors will find a lot in here to recount the beginnings of an author who has well over fifty books out in the world and has learned a thing or two along the way. I suppose some might consider it a spoiler, but the most frequently offered piece of advice is if you want to be a writer, sit down and write. Find the time. Keene finds interesting and colorful way to remind the reader of this tenet of success, but the message remains the same.
The narrative spends a lot of time detailing Keene’s struggles after the passings of writers Tom Piccirilli and J.F. Gonzalez. The opening chapters get very personal and the reader has know difficulty grasping the genuine love and respect Keene held for these men. His insights to how they changed his life and trajectory are, as always, honest and introspective.
The writing is razor-sharp. The whole time. Every entry. When Keene wants you to feel the hurt, your eyes will well up. When he wants to make you laugh, your sides will hurt. Before a later chapter mentions his respect for the writings of the late Hunter S. Thompson, it shines through crystal clear. Highly recommended for Keene fans new and old, as well as people looking for a guide to writing horror that wouldn’t know dry if landed in the middle of a desert.

The Debt by Natalie Edwards

Go to review page

dark tense fast-paced

4.0

When I hear as many good things about an author as I’ve heard about Natalie Edwards/TC Parker lately, good luck keeping their work out of my bookmail. Word of mouth regarding Edwards as a terrific author and human being made this an easy choice for Ladies of Horror Fiction’s “Ladies First 21” campaign to get people to make their first read of the new year a book by a woman.
My typical read these days is around 200 pages or less, and even though The Debt comes in at double that, it moves fast and like any good thriller, doesn’t feel anywhere close to its length. Edwards has created an outstanding and nuanced lead in El Gardener, only enhancing how intriguing the reader will find her by surrounding her with a supporting cast, each presented with enough depth to lead their own story. In the early pages I worried about having the big main cast, mixing up some of the women, but Edwards gives each one their own distinguishing strengths, traits, fears, and even sprinkles in backstory sparingly to assist the reader in not only keeping them straight, but become individually invested.
The story has an Ocean’s Eleven flavor to it, and even though Ocean’s Eight might be more apt due to the all-female cast, the 2001 version of the movie had a cleverness to it that the others never seemed to match. The interplay between what the reader knows and what each character knows as the threads unravel make for a compelling, and at times surprising story. Edwards included a truly despicable, yet believable villain who we love to root against, only exacerbated through his direct involvement in the story.
There are two more books in this series, and after being drawn into The Debt, I’ll be making them a priority. This book is fast and fun with deep, compelling characters and leans into all the best aspects of a heist movie.