Synopsis

Full of heartbreak, revulsion and black humour, a scientist desperately searches for a cure to a zombie virus while also hiding a monumental secret – her undead husband.

Kesta’s husband Tim was the last person to be bitten in a zombie pandemic. The country is now in a period of respite, the government seemingly having rounded up and disposed of all the infected.

But Kesta has a secret . . .

Tim may have been bitten, but he’s not quite dead yet. In fact, he’s tied to a bed in her spare room. And she’s made him a promise: find a cure, bring him back.

A scientist by day, Kesta juggles intensive work under the microscope alongside Tim’s care, slipping him stolen drugs to keep him docile, knowing she is hiding the only zombie left. But Kesta is running out of drugs – and time. Can she save her husband before he is discovered? Or worse . . . will they trigger another outbreak?

Review

The loss of a loved one can be a horror, even if it’s coming is expected. But what if your loved one comes back from death? And what if there was a chance to save them?

This is what is explored in One Yellow Eye, the debut novel by Leigh Radford. This is a book that is a sermon on grief, on loss, terminal illness, and what lengths we would go to for the people we love, all dressed up as a zombie thriller. Following Kesta, a scientist and widowed victim of the recent zombie virus outbreak, who by day searches for a cure to prevent another disastrous outbreak. But at home, she keeps her undead husband locked away in a room, feeding him drugs and supplements to keep him “alive”, all whilst trying everything in her power to desperately cure him.

The zombie virus is used as an allegory for terminal illness, but really can be applied for any life-threatening illness; with COVID especially being prevalent in the underlayers of this novel. I think most people have unfortunately had to suffer the pain of loss, and even witness the inevitability of the end coming for someone that we love. This powerlessness is explored through Kesta, and her journey is so relatable. Ultimately, what would you do to save those that you love, and what lengths would you strive for to achieve that goal? She does a number of questionable things, more and more morally grey as she becomes more consumed by the grief that has its hooks in her. I also felt like it was a believable arc. This zombie outbreak is – to quote every news stations favourite word from the END TIMES OF 2020 – unprecedented, and the suddenness of this loss would rip even the most stoic of hearts apart. But having that light at the end of tunnel of the cure just on the horizon (and the fact that Kesta is actively a part of that process), makes her descent even more convincing.

This is also secretly a romance novel. The love that Kesta has for Tim, even in his undead state, is heart wrenching, and the absolute best moments in this story are when Kesta is at home with her husband reminiscing about the Before Times, about the memories that make her her, how much love she knows and still feels from her husband’s semi-lucid state. You can feel Leigh Radford is writing from the very depths of her soul when penning these parts.

I also liked how believable this zombie outbreak felt. As Kesta is a scientist, there is a large swath of this novel dedicated to the science behind the outbreak, the virus, the cure. It’s well researched, and considering most zombie thrillers either don’t bother with the science (which is fine if the story calls for it), it was refreshing to see just how in depth this went. If I had a gripe, it would be that the science-y bits maybe did outstay their welcome just a tad, but the conflict between Kesta and the bureaucracy of the lab – as she isn’t able to reveal how she is privy to some information without letting on that there’s a zombie chained up at home – is great and always filled with tension.

For me, One Yellow Eye is a deep exploration on love through grief, the devastating effects of loss, the inevitability of terminal illness, and what we do for those we love – and how much may be too much. Leigh Radford explores this sensitive area of discussion with subtlety, care, and aplomb. The closing moments of this novel will stay with me for a long while, and being so engrossed in this heart-breaking journey from the start was a pleasure to experience. I really hope Leigh Radford uses another horror archetype to explore something else in the future, and I’m excited to see where she goes next!

With thanks to Tor Nightfire for an ARC in exchange for an honest review!

Synopsis:

Fear – arguably humanity’s strongest emotion – is both a blessing and a curse.

It hinders some, while it fuels others, but without it, our species would not have survived hundreds of thousands of years. However it might affect you, you’ve felt fear. We all have. Within this book, you’ll come face to face with new fears as you open your imagination and experience the incredible lives of original characters in eight vast different short stories that span many unique and gripping genres, including thriller, tragic romance, crime, science fiction, retelling, and more.

Each story is a different face of fear.

Review:

Fear by Jose Trevino is a short story collection featuring nine horror tales. Trevino works across horror genres to bring us tales ranging from psychological, supernatural, paranormal, and science fiction.

Trevino’s ability to move seamlessly between past and present tense, along with point of view shifts, is impressive. One story may be written in the third person past tense, then the next in first person present tense.

Trevino displays a variety of characters, all of which were natural and full of depth, even in the short time we get to know them. From a grieving son to a misled youth who has joined a cult, each character is unique and enjoyable.

In some of the stories, the horror builds alongside the plot, revealing unsettling details slowly to help understand each event. In others, Trevino wastes no time. He pulls you in, terrifies you, and leaves enough to the imagination that there is no choice but to continue flipping the pages.

Trevino writes with authority. Though he often drops the reader into an unknown setting, he continues on, delivering just enough knowledge to understand what is happening but leaving the questions unanswered until the right moments.

The stories themselves were unique: twisted retellings of familiar legends, and distinct perspectives on common subgenres. In particular, Dinner For Two and the Hunger took me by surprise in such a delightful way. Both were dark, unprecedented takes on the familiar vampire and zombie stories.

The stories within Fear provided a great balance between dreadful and hopeful. There were terrible endings (my personal favorite), happy endings, and some stories ended with ambiguity, leaving the reader to make their own decisions as to what occurred thereafter.

Fear is a must-have for any horror reader’s shelf—perfect for those who appreciate thought-provoking narratives, fear rooted in everyday life, and genre-spanning, morbid tales.

Synopsis:

When a disease runs rampant, turning people into cannibalistic horrors, society comes to a halt. Kate manages to escape the sadistic captivity she has endured and collides with Nick, a Marine haunted by the scars of war.

They join forces to navigate a treacherous landscape, battling the undead and hostile survivors. But what happens when the monsters outside are the least of their worries?

Nick’s shame is crushing, and Kate’s distrust is swallowing her whole. Will they overcome the darkness that threatens to consume them from within? And what will become of a world overrun with creatures that cannot seem to stop…laughing?

Review:

Before we start, I used to watch classic zombie movies and read horror novels. But we’re talking thirty years ago, possibly longer, with memories of Ramsey Campbell as a favourite. So why read one now? First off, Dark Bloom has received a lot of attention, and secondly, that cover promises so much, you want to know it if can deliver. You better believe it can. Macabre has crafted a book that took me completely by surprise.

There are horrors throughout the book, and the concept of laughing zombies? See, you have chills with just that thought. However, though the danger is visceral, the true raw horror of this book lies within the two main characters, Nick and Kate. We follow them both, and as we explore their backstories, began to realise that what a human can do to another human can far outweigh the horrors of a zombie apocalypse. At the end of the book, Kate questions whether anyone is worth saving, and her doubts are real. You’ll see why.

I listened to this via audiobook, and the top-notch narration matched the rapid pacing as well as the quieter moments of introspection. My only issue, and for many this won’t be one, is the head-hopping during scenes. I can see why, with two such damaged characters, you would make such a style choice, and on audiobook it worked because of the signposting. Once I got used to it, it just became the norm and didn’t detract from the book.

Like horror? A relationship-based storyline with damaged but strong characters? The thought of laughing zombies give you chills? Read this.

Rating: /10

Action, adventure, horror, comedy… Zombie Billionaire has it all.

The long-awaited sequel to Zombie Bigfoot is here!

You know those series books that say “This book is a standalone?” This one isn’t. Zombie Billionaire picks up directly from where Zombie Bigfoot left off. If you haven’t read “ZBF,” do yourself a favor: get it, read it, and come on back. We’ll be right here waiting for you.

Cameron Carson was dead, to begin with…

In the forests of Idaho, a debonaire billionaire finds himself back from the dead… and the transition is far from seamless. Meanwhile, the tattered remnants of a Bigfoot troop try to make their way to safety while a survival show host, a Shoshone tracker, and a brilliant primatologist struggle to protect their Sasquatchian friends. On top of that, they have to track down the mysterious “Stone that Sings” that started this whole mess. But dark forces with less-than-benevolent intentions are gathering… some looking for the meteorite… others searching for the surviving Bigfoots.

And in Lake Payette, by the shores of the resort town of McCall, something ancient has awakened. And it is HUNGRY.

Review

In Clerks II, film snob and general curmudgeon Randal mocks The Lord of the Rings trilogy as being nothing more than three boring-ass movies about a bunch of people walking. “Even the fucking trees walked in those movies,” he whines. Although Nick Sullivan’s Zombie Bigfoot sequel lacks walking trees, I thought about that scene more often than I should have for a book called Zombie Billionaire.

Zombie Billionaire picks up right where Zombie Bigfoot ended, and in order to discuss this sequel it is necessary that I talk about the end of the prior novel and the big reveals Sullivan packed into that book’s epilogue and epi-epilogue. There, Sullivan set the stage for a lake-based creature feature, with a primordial aquatic horror swallowing, and being changed by, the ancient meteor that transformed campers and Bigfoot alike into undead flesh eaters.

One of those undead monstrosities just so happened to be billionaire Cameron Carson, who was bitten and presumed dead in ZBFs climactic battle. Obviously, Zombie Billionaire finds him back on his feet and, eventually, in search of the mysterious meteor that has transformed him and a fresh water lake monster, known as Sharlie by the locals.

Zombie Bigfoot was a rousing, kinetic, action-packed indie horror that offered a lot of promise for a sequel and properly whet the appetite for a follow-up centering around more zombies and, more importantly, an ancient Nessie-like zombified lake monster. Zombie Billionaire doesn’t exactly squander all this potential, but it sure does take its time delivering the goods. Sullivan’s follow-up is far slower, and oftentimes maddeningly methodical as it re-establishes its various premises, introduces an unnecessarily large cast of new characters, and tries to find stories to tell for returning characters, not all of which are particularly engaging.

Of these returning characters are reality TV show host Russ Cloud, Dr. Sarah Bishop, and their Shoshone guide and tracker, Joseph. Their mission is to recover the meteorite that unleashed all this mayhem last time around before it can cause even more trouble, especially if the military now flooding the Idaho forests in the wake of a Bigfoot attack can get their hands on it first. Problem is, one of the National Guardsmen assigned to protect the campsite the meteorite was last seen at threw the rock off a cliff and into a river. They spend a lot of time trying to figure out which direction the water’s currents sent it and which of the branching rivers it may have taken.

Of course, we readers know exactly where the meteor has gone and what it has done, and it takes freaking forever for this slog of backstory to start connecting with the final moments from Zombie Bigfoot that we’ve been waiting for. And just when we’re about fed up with reading about tracking a rock through a forest, Sullivan switches us over to the remaining tribe of Bigfoot survivors as they… also spend a lot of time walking through the forest.

Cameron Carson, meanwhile, has returned to New York, in time to deal with some industrial espionage and a hostile takeover of his corporation by its board of directors, all while trying to come to grips with his newfound hunger.

There’s also a group of black-bag military operators, a competing reality TV show host and his entourage, a ragtag bunch of Sharlie hunters, a forestry officer finding unusual cast-offs from Sharlie’s newfound dining habits, and a killer who speaks solely by way of showtune titles, as if he’s some kind of ritzy Groot.

Frankly, Zombie Billionaire is overstuffed and oftentimes plodding. The humor is pretty cringey throughout, but I’ll admit to laughing at the Leroy Jenkins bit even if it’s pretty well dated at this point. It lacks the urgency and gory chaos of the previous installment, and by the time the action really kicks into gear with Sharlie and its accompanying lakeside mayhem, it’s too little too late. In between traipsing through the woods and New York boardroom scheming, we get some legit monster action, but never enough. When one character discovers the unusual events unfolding in McCall via a web forum posting and connects the dots about where they must go immediately, almost two-thirds into the book, I found myself wishing that’s where this story had started. I wanted more time on the lake with monster hunters and less time in the woods with rock hunters.

Summary

The truth is out there… and it will eat your face.

“Bigfoot is real.”

That’s what Sarah’s father told her before his academic disgrace and untimely death. Now, primatologist Dr. Sarah Bishop is eager to restore her father’s good name. Survival show host Russ Cloud is just as eager to boost his plummeting ratings. They’ll both have a shot at redemption when they find themselves hired by eccentric billionaire Cameron Carson.

After a series of his publicity stunts end in spectacular failure, Carson has a plan to redeem his tarnished image: capture a live Sasquatch. Sarah and Russ join an expedition with an eclectic crew: an Afrikaner safari hunter, a washed up pro wrestling star, a Shoshone master tracker full of surprises, a heavily tattooed Russian warrior woman, a pair of wise-cracking nerds, and a cute gum-chewing intern with some hidden skills. Will they find Bigfoot? There’s something in the woods… but it’s not what they’re expecting.

Review

Certain names immediately spring to mind when you think of classic literature. William Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, Mark Twain, Leo Tolstoy, Ernest Hemingway. Add to this canon Nick Sullivan, with his estimable literary debut, Zombie Bigfoot.

OK, maybe — just maybe — Zombie Bigfoot isn’t quite on par with Romeo & Juliet or Crime & Punishment, or any other half-dozen works forming the concrete backbone of any self-respecting English Lit program, but it sure is a hell of a lot of fun. Besides that, Sullivan’s creature feature is clearly inspired by a number of other foundational artworks, like Jurassic Park, Planet of the Apes, and at least a few King Kong flicks, with or without the honorific, and that gives Sullivan an edge over the so-called greats in my book.

As the title indicates, the premise here is pretty straightforward and Sullivan delightfully delivers exactly what’s promised. Russ Cloud is a reality-TV survivalist star in search of a ratings boost. He’s joined by Dr. Sarah Bishop on an expedition in search of Bigfoot, a high-tech, backwoods trek funded by Musk-like (and Musk-lite) billionaire, Cameron Carson. Bishop has a personal stake in finding Bigfoot, as her disgraced, and now deceased, father claims to have made contact with one during a previous hiking incident that left him injured and on the brink of death. Was it all an elaborate hoax he concocted, or a truth that was derided as lunacy? She believes her father and aims to earn him the posthumous legacy he deserves.

Simply hiking through the woods to find Bigfoot isn’t quite good enough for Sullivan, though. It’s a story that’s been done to death elsewhere, and Sullivan smartly ups the ante by bringing in another horror staple and mashing them up together to create a new breed of monster. It’s not just Bigfoot and people crowding these here woods — there’s zombies, too, and when one of them latches onto a violent, mean-spirited alpha Bigfoot, woo boy, it’s off to the races toot sweet!

I’m usually not a fan of anthropomorphizing animals, or making animals central point-of-view narrative figures, but I guess if you’re going to do it Bigfoot is a fairly reasonable species to get away with it. In fact, I was surprised at how much I actually enjoyed Sullivan’s Bigfoot POV chapters, mostly from the lead BF, Brighteyes, who has a particular fascination and affectation for humans. We also get a few segments as seen through the eyes of zombified Bigfoot to help drive home the distinguishing characteristics between what might reasonably be viewed, respectively, as the missing link and an altogether broken link.

Sullivan puts a lot of work into humanizing his Bigfoot characters, and it pays off pretty damn well. The human characters are of mostly familiar stock but are at least entertaining in their interactions and enjoy the gift of gab. I think Sullivan knows we’re really here for the zombie monsters, though, and he smartly focuses on the action, which is gnarly, gory, over the top, and almost non-stop chompy-chomp save for the momentary, and necessary, pauses to allow would-be victims to catch their breath for a moment and deliver some exposition to flesh things out. I also appreciated Sullivan’s take on billionaire Carson, an eccentric who has begun to use “his vast wealth to fund several high-profile stunts that had all ended in epic failures.” It’s a pretty clear, and highly welcome!, jab at Musk, but with Zombie Bigfoot having debuted in 2016 we can only be grateful that Carson is off fucking about in the woods with zombie Bigfoot instead of dismantling the government, disrupting Social Security, and destroying cancer research with a gaggle of teenage coders. Then again, there is a just-released sequel to consider, so… we shall see.

The most welcome aspect of Zombie Bigfoot, though, is its offering of escapist entertainment in a time when it’s sorely, desperately needed. It likely won’t be the subject of any aspiring doctoral lit students’ thesis, but I’d rather it be a fun, gory spectacle anyway, one that can help take my mind and attention away from the massive burning trash fire that is America circa 2025. Sullivan delivers that in spades, along with a promise of more to come. Zombie Bigfoot is a joyous B-movie-inspired creature feature, perfect for fans of Hunter Shea and Chris Sorensen, and you can bet your ass I’ll be reading the follow-up next. Now, onward to Zombie Billionaire! I can’t wait to see what’s in store for us there!

Synopsis

Midwestern Mayhem! Remember the ’90s? Well…the town of Demise, North Dakota doesn’t, and they’re living in the year 1997. That’s because an alien worm hitched a ride on a comet, crash-landed in the town’s trailer park, and is now infecting animals with a memory-loss-inducing bite-and right before Christmas! Now it’s up to nineteen-year-old Realene and her best friend Nate to stop the spread and defeat the worms before the entire town loses its mind. The only things standing in the way are their troubled pasts, a doomsday cult, and an army of infected prairie dogs.

Review

I won this in a giveaway once upon a time, and I’m so glad to have a copy. I mean look at this freaking cover folks!

A love note to the ‘90s with enough references to melt your nostalgic heart, and enough action and wit to give you whiplash. Oh, and if that wasn’t enough, it’s almost Christmas! Realene and Nate are best friends, just trying to survive their hometown of Demise, North Dakota. But they never expected for a meteorite to crash just outside of town, and for an alien worm to start infecting the animal population! 

This is really fun and feels like it would have been a perfect fit for Shortwave’s Killer VHS series. It’s part creature feature, part alien invasion, and even part zombie apocalypse with rage-induced crazies that you can’t let bite you. Oh, and don’t forget the religious cult, duh! All that and yet the author does a great job of balancing things. There’s a wonderfully-handled thread of mental illness as well, as Realene’s mother’s worsening dementia plays into the memory-loss bite of those infected. It also keeps the story emotionally grounded as they try to save those around them and help them to understand what’s happened. 

I really enjoyed the healthy male/female friendship, and how their dynamic wasn’t based in any way around who was what. They’re just friends. And anyway, people are trying to freaking kill them, animals are trying to bite everyone and everything, and a culty cult is after them! This book really has it all. As a writer, I’ve been trying to pay attention and pinpoint when other writers seed little tidbits for later, and I just knew that salty lake comment meant something! 

If you’ve liked any of the genres or things I’ve touched upon above, give this one a chance and see just how well the author blends it all together.

There’s not much rumbling during the Recipe Days show at the Lubbock Municipal Coliseum—except for stomachs, that is—until the professional wrestlers arrive early for their Saturday night matches. Chaos ensues when the home cooks are overrun by Xombie, the Hellbillies, and Jersey Devil Jill.

They’re not everyone’s idea of family fun . . . especially when the rowdy wrestlers descend on the free donuts brought for the security team—and are turned into brain-eating zombies. The night’s main event starts early with undead wrestlers squaring off against kitchen divas and soccer moms. And as the contagion spreads, the few survivors, armed with mixers, booth poles, and a Zamboni, must fight to keep their heads on straight—and off the menu.

Absurd, bonkers, completely off its rocker (I could continue for the rest of the alphabet until about x) and something that only Stephen Graham Jones could pull off so brilliantly, “Zombie Bake-Off,” is undeniably a balls to the wall, fun, gory time. Whilst Jones’ unmistakable and exquisite prose means that this book couldn’t have possibly been written by anyone else, one is forced to question exactly what was happening when he sat down to write this one. Perhaps a particularly vivid nightmare after too much late night “Food Network?” Whatever the case, we should all be grateful. For those familiar with the Great British Bake-off, Britain’s only redeeming cultural export aside from perhaps Andrew Michael Hurley, I assure you this is not a book to cozy up with and read with the family at 8PM on a Tuesday evening. There is not a scone in sight. If however you have watched the bake off and thought it was lacking hordes of undead luchadores, contaminated donuts, and graphic violence in general, this book may well be your cup of tea. If you have an empty stomach and a rolling pin to hand, why not don your apron (things get messy) and step into the ring.

We follow Terry who is an event manager at the Lubbock Municipal Coliseum. During the (fateful) day, the “Recipe Days,” show is taking place, in which a host of mothers and grandmothers, armed with secret ingredients and age-old recipes, set up shop to show that love, tradition and butter make the world spin round. It’s almost guaranteed to be a heart-warming event appropriate for all the family and perfect for a local newspaper puff piece. Until the slimy Johnny T and his “Hell-billes,” show up early for their wrestling match later that night. With the “Recipe Days,” representative already kicking up a fuss, the luchadores are quickly ushered away, and begin to descend upon the donuts ordered especially for the security team. What they didn’t know what no one (apart from one rather panicked baker’s son called Rex) could have known is that those donuts are contaminated. When Jersey Devil Jill, Gentleman Jim, Billy Bob Graham and the others begin turning into brain-eating, blood-thirsty zombies it quickly becomes apparent that the Recipe Days show will not go down in history as a wholesome food festival.

SGJ’s prose is something I’ve come to adore, but it wasn’t love at first read. Frankly I simply couldn’t get into the flow of Jones’ writing the first time around (and spent about a year convinced he wasn’t for me (WRONG)). Despite the bizarro premise, hilariously named characters and rapid descent into gorey, brain-filled mania, Jones’ unmistakable voice remains intact, and is still as intelligent, rhythmic and rich as ever. If you’re a fan, expect more of the same beautiful writing, with the added bonus of zombie wrestlers. If you’re looking for a point at which to start reading Stephen, I’d recommend his tor.com originals, which you can read for free and in one sitting. 

A no-holds-barred and hilarious romp that hits as hard and as fast as a folding chair to the face, if you’re looking for some lucha-libre brain munching, or perhaps simply a zombie story that’s a little different, then you can and should be reading this one. It’s gory, it’s chaotic and it’s so absurd that it loops back around to genius- it’s part horror, part comedy, and absolute carnage. 

Synopsis:

A deadly new drug has hit the streets of Scarmouth, one which turns users into bloodthirsty maniacs with superhuman tolerance for pain. Through insidious design a large quantity has fallen into the hands of squatters occupying the derelict Victoria hotel. Rhonda Caine’s desperate search for her estranged sister will lead to this dreadful place. But she won’t be alone. She’s joined by a group of self-serving activists, out to promote a new charity grift off the back of her story.

Rhonda’s not the only one looking for something. Hired muscle, Fred and Pinkie have been tasked to recover that lost drug shipment. These men know what it’s doing to people. What they don’t know is just how many have been affected already, but within the bowels of that derelict hotel breeds a mindless, homicidal legion.

Scarmouth is known as the coastal town they forgot to burn down. It’ll only take a few hot doses to finally set it alight.

Review:

A Hot Dose of Hell yanks you right into the gritty, undesirable streets of Scarmouth as we follow two drug addicts and how they acquire a deadly drug. Wait, don’t all illegal drugs have the capacity to be deadly? Sure, but not like this one.

We also meet Rhonda, sister to one of the drug addicts. She is strong and ambitious, never backing down from doing the right thing or confronting the wrong things. Rhonda sets out to find her sister and bring her out of a life consumed by drugs and degrading decisions.

The problem is Rhonda’s sister has gotten her hands on a drug that completely alters people. If they were cutthroat before, they’ve now lost everything that makes them human. They’ll stop at nothing until they’ve torn a person apart even if it means they lose their life in the process.

My first impression while reading this was a wariness to the heavy accents depicted and some of the terms used. As an American, I feared the language and dialect would take away from the story and my understanding of it. However, quite the opposite happened. I found the dialogue so immersive, easily carrying me from one scene to the next. And though it feels strange for me to say it was natural, because it’s different from what I hear on a day-to-day basis, it was just that. Stark adds in these simple dialogue moments that even just someone saying “thanks” or “sorry” fits so well, creating real-life conversations.

There were certain words I had never heard before, and Stark does not stop this cartwheel into horror to pause and explain but he doesn’t need to. Each term is couched between enough context that I was able to quickly pick up what he was putting down and continue on. “Prozzie” for example was a term I had never heard but when the main characters are slaves to an addiction and willing to do whatever they must to claim their next fix, it’s pretty clear what Stark is referring to.

The descriptions in this dark tale were some of my favorites. You won’t find cliches here. What you will find is something described in a way you’ve never thought of, but once Stark delivers, it makes perfect sense. Sometimes, they sharpen big events such as two people falling down the stairs described as “an arachnid tangle of limbs.” Other times, it’s something as simple as clearing the fog in a bathroom mirror when Stark says she “wiped a porthole in the steam.” And other times it offers a comedic break from the otherwise terrifying story. For example, “more tension than a fat man’s mattress spring.”

Stark does not shy away from offering you a full, vivid picture of the gritty, alternative lifestyles of the drug-addicted main characters. He paints a dreary picture of their detestable living situations, the exact steps they take to fix up their next dose, and the decisions they make to feed their cravings.

Stark creates many moments of tension and had me racing through certain chapters to find out what happens next. There are brutal kills, delightful gore, and some just plain gross (in the best way) situations. Though, I guess Slate doesn’t need to worry about getting that leg checked out now.

A Hot Dose of Hell is horror done right, intelligently placing information in the right places to use later, slow build-ups of hair-raising creepiness, just to punch you in the gut at the end. I highly recommend it to any readers of horror because this book checks all the boxes.

A virus is spreading across America, transforming the infected and making them feral with lust.

Sophie, a good Catholic girl, must traverse the hellscape of the midwest to try to find her family while the world around her burns. Along the way she discovers there are far worse fates than dying a virgin…

The end times are coming.

If you’ve read anything that I’ve written in the past few months, there’s a good chance I brought up C.J. Leede’s “American Rapture,” and just how upset I am that it doesn’t come out here in the UK until June 26th. I have been waiting in anticipation, fingers itching, yearning, watching friends across the Atlantic devour and obsess over this one. Well folks, it turns out complaining endlessly does get you somewhere, because a very kind stranger sent me a copy. If you’re reading, thank you again. Having had my faith in humanity briefly restored, I needed something to rip it away from me again, and whilst of course that can be done by merely watching the news or scrolling for 5 minutes, it seemed fitting that it should be this book. A road-trip through the Upper Midwest during an apocalypse that is uniquely American, Leede’s latest met and exceeded every single damn one of my mounting expectations. A piqued, propulsive and pitiless reflection of the pandemic and the state of the states, as well as a seething condemnation of religious fervor, and the shielding that arises from it, “American Rapture,” just about consumed me for the three days I was reading it. For fans of Clay McLeod Chapman’s sensational “Wake Up and Open Your Eyes,” as well as McCammon’s “Swan Song,” this is an utter must read, and I look forward to finally seeing it in bookstores over here in the Summer.

After a virus mutates, face masks and sanitiser are no longer enough to protect yourself. “Sylvia,” turns those who have contracted it into sex-crazed lunatics, and with the disease being carried through bodily fluid, it’s spreading fast across the states. Of course, until she comes face to face with it, Sophie Allen has virtually no idea. An America overrun by carnal sex zombies would be a challenge for anyone, but raised to be a good Catholic girl in a household that shielded her almost entirely from the big, bad world, when she’s suddenly thrust out into it, two parents down, it’s really a lot. Whilst she’s quick and fortunate to make friends, the idea that Sophie and co. (co, including the goodest dog) can successfully navigate what can only be the rapture, is at the best of times unlikely.

This is an undeniably strong apocalypse story, but what absolutely makes it, is the fact that we read it through the eyes of Sophie, who through no fault of her own has an incredibly narrow world-view, that we watch crack and expand in real time. Her parents are incredibly religious, she attends church and a Catholic school for girls, and at 16, has no friends, no phone, and frankly no idea. Her way of life is dictated entirely by her mum and dad, and the fact that they’re suddenly not there, (or at least the strict Catholic folk that she was raised by aren’t) is the real horror of this novel, apocalypse aside. We follow her through an incredibly guilty sexual awakening, through physical changes, through the same issues as every teenager- but amplified by 100, and these at times feel secondary to the end of the world.

From the age of 14 I was drinking in moderation with my parents, something I reckon would make Sophie’s parents clutch their pearls, however… by the time I hit adulthood I’d never blacked-out at a party, I was never sick in a doorway, I didn’t tend to wake up regretting the night before, or wondering why I’d stolen a traffic cone. Building that tolerance, that healthy relationship, in a safe environment, was ultimately much less dangerous than discovering it by myself in the form of cheap shots. I feel like that’s a big part of what C.J. Leede is getting at in “American Rapture.” Sophie’s extreme sheltering ultimately does more harm than good. By keeping her entirely shielded from the world’s realities: its temptations, its chaos, and its ugliness, she is completely unprepared to face it, and when thrown headfirst into a literal apocalypse, face it she must. It’s not naivety; it’s a lack of tools. She has genuinely no idea how to reconcile the world she’s been taught with the world she’s suddenly experiencing. By keeping her untainted, and ensuring salvation, her parents almost completely sealed her fate.

Subtle flex incoming, when I had the opportunity to chat with Nick Cutter, he suggested that there are two types of novel that come out of the pandemic. Hopeful, and hopeless. The bringing together of humanity… Think back to those fleeting moments of solidarity: shopping for your elderly neighbours, chatting with people over the fence, here in the UK we applauded healthcare workers in the street every Thursday at 7. Then there’s the hopeless pandemic novel. Remember the US government suggesting you inject yourself with bleach, or the toilet-paper hoarding, or the anti-vax super-spreader protests. We really can’t be trusted to do the right thing, even when it’s life or death. “American Rapture,” does not fall squarely in either category, but certainly leans more into the “humans are a disaster,” camp. Fleeting moments of teen romance, companionship and genuine acts of kindness are balanced out, perhaps even outweighed by tribalism, religious extremism, and humanity’s stead-fast, sure-fire ability to get it wrong. This is a novel about how we deal with crisis and how we prepare our children to deal with crisis, and Leede doesn’t flinch when demonstrating the cracks in our foundations, and the ugliness that can boil to the surface when we’re desperate.

Both amplified by and tempered with raw humanity, “American Rapture,” is part-pandemic, part-roadtrip, part-blistering social commentary, and, in a word, unforgettable. If you’re looking for an apocalypse novel with teeth (and claws, wings, and bodily fluids), this is absolutely the book for you.

Synopsis

When a disease runs rampant, turning people into cannibalistic horrors, society comes to a halt. Kate manages to escape the sadistic captivity she has endured and collides with Nick, a Marine haunted by the scars of war.

They join forces to navigate a treacherous landscape, battling the undead and hostile survivors. But what happens when the monsters outside are the least of their worries?

Nick’s shame is crushing, and Kate’s distrust is swallowing her whole. Will they overcome the darkness that threatens to consume them from within? And what will become of a world overrun with creatures that cannot seem to stop…laughing?

Review

Had the perfect opportunity line up where I had just started this as an audio arc and I had the chance to grab a category for the Indie Ink Awards as well. I was so excited to get into this one. 

You may not know this, but I am a huge zombie fan. Since Shaun of the Dead and Dawn of the Dead (Snyder), I’ve been a fan of both the more comedic and the serious iterations. As a TWD Universe stan, I just finished a rewatch and a full watch through of all the spinoffs. So I was definitely ready to go when it came to picking this up. And while I’ve been a part of the reviewing community since 2020, there does seem to be a bit of a distance between zombies and readers—not necessarily in the sense of looking down on the genre, but there’s definitely a disconnect—especially when it comes to novel form. Luckily, the author grips you with compelling characterizations, making the zombies an obstacle in the story, rather than the whole plot. 

Now I will say there was some mild apprehension behind starting. Mostly as I am in the plotting/early writing phase of working on my own zombie thriller and I was worried about infecting (see what I did there) my own plot with things I loved from this one. And honestly, I know for a fact I’m not capable of being this concise. The prose are sharp and everything is to the point without appearing rushed in any way. So not only am I far too longwinded to appear like I’m pulling from this one, the author also went and made their own unique twist on the genre to take them a step further. These creatures, these infected, can laugh maniacally, can scheme, and when they turn without injury, they can remain awfully fast. 

The author is certainly playing within the tropes I know and love here, which for me made this a compulsive read. Although I will say, woah! zombie novel where they say zombie!! Each scene end is a chapter, whether short or long, and that made for a continuous “one more chapter” pull to every break away. Kate and Nick find each other through unusual means, in rather unusual times, and that makes them connect all the more immediately. They’ve both got loads of baggage to deal with, making them complex and compelling in a relatable way. While this novel touches on the depravity that humanity would sink to after the world’s ending, this is more about the idea of hope. Both characters have already seen the dark side of man, and unfortunately it came for them before the world turned over. Therefore they’ve come into the apocalypse already doing what it takes to carry on—surviving. They both could have given up, could have stopped, but they didn’t, and you know what, they found each other! A person can be a safe place even when the world is not one. 

Huge notes of abuse and mental health issues, as well as their coping mechanisms or lackthere of. This is a story about survival, but be warned it does not shy away from the reality that causes these issues. It’s deep and real and engaging, and it will leave you thinking when it’s done. And even though it’s dark, you’ll want even more.