Blood Talk: Vampires!
People often ask me why I chose to write about Vampires, and my answer always is: I didn’t choose to write about Vampires; they chose me.
As I’ve said on this blog before, my mother is to blame (or thank) for my avid interest in all things Dark. She would watch all the old horror movies while pregnant with me, and I guess some of it rubbed off on the little premature baby inside.
Anyway, Vampires are hypnotic, sexy, cruel, damned, monstrous, needy, and, I think, necessary.
REVIEW: Pretty When She Destroys by Rhiannon Frater
5/5 Stars
What a fucking ride.
I’m so satisfied with the end of Amaliya and group’s story, and I love the little opening at the end in case there is ever a continuation. (hint hint wink wink)
Review: Dead Spots by Rhiannon Frater
In the dead spots, dreams become reality, terror knows your name, and nightmares can kill you.
The stillbirth of Mackenzie’s son destroyed her marriage. Grieving, Mac reluctantly heads for her childhood home to seek refuge with her mother, who constantly reminds her of life’s dangers.
Driving across Texas, Mac swerves to avoid hitting a deer…and winds up in a dead spot, a frightening place that lies between the worlds of the living and the dead. If they can control their imaginations, people can literally bring their dreams to life—but most are besieged by fears and nightmares which pursue them relentlessly.
Mackenzie’s mother and husband haunt her, driving her to the brink of madness. Then she hears a child call for help and her maternal instincts kick into overdrive. Grant, Mac’s ally in the dead spots, insists Johnny is a phantom, but the boy seems so real, so alive….
As the true horrors of the dead spots are slowly revealed, Mackenzie realizes that time is running out. But exits from the dead spots are nearly impossible to find, and defended by things almost beyond imagination.
Review of White Walls and StraitJackets
It sits in the squirmiest parts of your mind and body until (I imagine) you can’t take it anymore and have to stop reading. I assume. This didn’t happen to me. I, with some sort of immensely morbid fascination, couldn’t stop reading the damned thing.