Supernatural Tales

PS Publishing has announced a new book by ST regular Tim Foley. It looks good! There's both a trade paperback and a signed hardcover edition.  This collection of uncanny tales invites us into a world where a subtle frisson awaits, a world where the sense that something is chillingly wrong lurks just beneath the familiar rituals of everyday life. A classic muscle car hides a dark, secret history. The shade of a lonely bride broods in a hotel room, longing for a friend. A cynical musician confronts a closet door that, without explanation, refuses to stay shut. For the past dozen years, Tim Foley’s stories have appeared in journals and anthologies, offering modern takes on the supernatural tale, creating a sharp sense of unease in the reader. Gathered here in his first collection, these stories offer gentle mystery and creeping dread. Seventeen Tales Nocturnal, to be read late in the evening, when the spirits are near.

Cover art by John Coulthart Has it really been so long? That was my first thought in looking at the contents list of this  excellent new collection . I need hardly mention that Helen Grant's stories have been appearing in Supernatural Tales for quite a while, now. Four of the thirteen tales collected her first saw light of day courtesy of my hot little editorial hands. And another, 'The Wynd', first published in  Nightmare Abbey , features on my YouTube channel. Check it out  here  on the Helen Grant playlist.  Needless to say 'The Wynd' is excellent, a clever variation on the mysterious church best left unvisited theme. What makes it especially good is that not only does the rather nasty protagonist get his comeuppance, but this occurs in the heart of a bustling modern city. A church lurking in wait amid soulless office blocks is a tough menace to pull off, but the author manages it with aplomb. Looking again at the stories I was privileged to publish, I'm glad...

  Cover illo by Sam Dawson, for Steve Duffy's story 'Forever Chemicals', which offers an interesting take on the London of the early Thatcher era. Spoiler alert - it wasn't very nice.  Here are the contents in full: 'Forever Chemicals' by Steve Duffy.  A young man in need of a job ends up as a nightwatchman on the run-down Docklands site. Businessmen of the less honest kind dump stuff in the dock. As Christmas approaches, so does a strange and unwanted 'miracle'.  'Wendigo' by Michael Kelly.  Strangers on a train. A Canadian winter. A story about a legendary creature. All this  and more as events unfold in a cabin in the wilderness and disturbing truths revealed. 'The Unfortified Heart' by Tim Jeffreys An affair with a married woman is an exciting thing, what with the thrill of transgression and all that. But what if the husband finds out? An age-old premise given a new, supernatural twist in this gripping tale. 'The Wet Wife' by ...

  Cover by Paul Lowe illustrating 'Screen Burn' Steve Duffy's latest collection offers the discerning reader eight stories, five brand new and three previously published (two of which appeared in ST). As always, these are well-wrought tales in the great tradition of British supernatural fiction. But they are also modern in the best sense - offering characters and settings instantly recognisable to anyone who inhabits the UK. Drizzle, darkness, and decay are seldom absent.  'Dead Centre of Manchester', the first story, is a prime example. Steve takes a fragment from a notorious true crime case and runs with it in a strange and gruesome direction. The overall feel might be described as Alan Bennett meets Joel Lane. In a good way, of course. There's a whiff of Vick and a taste of blood. Believable characters reacting to extraordinary circumstances are one of the author's specialities and he does a splendid job here. Cath, newly retired, joins Facebook groups an...

 

 The link to the ezine is here .

  Here it is, large as life and twice as spooky! All-new fiction by a host of talents, mostly British but also including our first-ever contribution from Germany.  Here is the table of contents. You Roger Luckhurst     Braunhoffer’s Coaches Martin Ruf     Violet Rosanne Rabinowitz     Corpsed Matthew G. Rees     The Haunting of Ian Bland Lisa Pritchard     Hell Is James Everington     The Hands of Men Sam Dawson Click this link & it takes you to all available print-on-demand issues (It will also take you to EPUB versions)

Splendidly atsmopheric cover by John Coulthart ' Friends and Spectres is a companion volume to Ghosts of the Chit-Chat (2020), an anthology of ghost stories by authors who had been members of the Cambridge University Chit-Chat Club along with M. R. James. Here the associations with MRJ are less formal, but stronger and more enduring: for it is the bond of genuine friendship that ties these writers to him. 'The majority of pieces here were originally published under pseudonyms, and over half appeared first in amateur magazines or local newspapers. All deal with the supernatural, and several of the stories are themselves spectres—or more properly “revenants”, only now re-emerging into the light after decades of oblivion. There are rediscoveries here of “lost” tales by Arthur Reed Ropes, E. G. Swain, and the enigmatic “B.”' Thus spake the blurb! I greatly enjoyed Ghosts of the Chit-Cha t and am pleased to report that Robert Lloyd Parry has once more done a thorough job of sel...

This is the final part of a running review of  Lost Estates  by Mark Valentine (Swan River Press 2024) The final story in this splendidly produced volume is another deep drive into English folklore. A writer, accompanied by a photographer, goes to the region around the Wssh to research a book in a series on myths and legends. The topic he has chosen is the supposed loss of King John's treasure.  Now, like many people, I was taught that John's baggage train was simply caught by the tide and he lost a lot of precious metal and jewels etc. But as the story unfolds we find that things were not that simple. For a start, there's only one source for the lost treasure story. And a different contemporary account takes a very different line.  This novella allows the author to plunge into rival theories about not only John and his antics but the way in which the English - both scholar and commoner - have a proprietorial interest in myth and legend. The professional theories cor...

  This is part of a running review of  Lost Estates  by Mark Valentine (Swan River Press 2024) I used to count cats. Not all the time, you understand. Just in the morning when I walked to work. I had chosen to live just a short walk from the office - odd, I know, but then I am a strange chap. The point is that counting cats became a kind of ritual. The more moggies I saw on that walk, the better I felt the day would be. A no cat day would not be a good day. Six or seven, and we're cooking with gas. Or at least, that's how I remember it.  'The End of Alpha Street' is Mark Valentine's take on this tendency we humans have to invent personal rituals out of whole cloth. Or, in my case, a variable number of whole cats. A cat features in the story, as it happens. The narrator befriends the feline and its owner in the eponymous cul-de-sac. And in a way the story is a cul-de-sac, as an exploration of personal rituals leads the narrator to an old man and a collection of appar...

This is part of a running review of  Lost Estates  by Mark Valentine (Swan River Press 2024) The title story of the collection! And it begins in fine form. 'I was playing the trans-dimensional crumhorn when the man from the Treasury called.' As the plot develops, we learn about the unusual musical combo the narrator was once part of and the unusual link to the inventor of a perpetual motion machine.  The group is reassembled in response to the man from the Treasury. The latter is in search of an 'estate' that is in fact something altogether stranger and more significant. A musical performance turns into a very unusual gig, The theme of disappearance - accidental or deliberate - is central again. Did the perpetual motion machine work, but in an altogether unexpected fashion? A light story, this, but not a frivolous one. It reflects a not-uncommon ambition, to discover that our quirky little interest might have wider significance - that we are as important as the people w...

This is part of a running review of  Lost Estates  by Mark Valentine (Swan River Press 2024) Many years ago I submitted a tale about pub signs to Ro Pardoe of Ghosts & Scholars and was delighted when it was published. The story is due to reappear next year in a G&S anthology. I only wish that, when I created my supernatural conspiracy theory around the symbolism of pub names, I had had a tithe of Mark Valentine's knowledge of the topic. The central conceit of 'The Understanding of the Signs' is far more effective than mine. What if changing the name of an old tavern somehow unleashes some archetypical entity that dwells in that location? Could the Gray Horse and the Red Lion run amok? The climax of the story grants the protagonist a glimpse of a landscape shot through with mystical significance. He senses a 'baleful power' in the motion of 'shadow beasts', which does not bode well for modern Britain.  And now so many pubs are closing down. If only on...

(This is part of a running review of  Lost Estates  by Mark Valentine (Swan River Press 2024) There is something about sand. It gets between your toes, certainly, but it also gets into your imagination. It informs Algernon Blackwood's Egyptian novella 'Sand', Ramsey Campbell's Lovecraftian 'The Voice of the Beach', Stephen King's weird sci-fi 'Beachworld', and every other short story by J.G. Ballard. The granulated rock gets everywhere.  Mark Valentine's take on the significance of sand is somewhat gentler than those examples, but nonetheless intriguing. An eccentric scholar - is there any other kind in a story? - invites three people to visit his seashore mansion. Each of the guests has a particular expertise that relates to the strangely patterned sands of that particular coastline. One is a veteran guide to the treacherous shore, the second practices divination by sand, the third makes sandglasses but also has a strange paranormal gift. Betwee...

  This is part of a running review of  Lost Estates  by Mark Valentine (Swan River Press 2024) Two stories in this collection - 'The Seventh Card' and 'Maybe the Parakeet Was Correct', first appeared in ST so of course I rate them highly. Moving swiftly along we come to the next tale, whose premise might be baffling to some younger readers. Or is the song The Laughing Policeman still well known? Somehow I doubt it. Humor being central to a tale of supernatural persecution is not common. The only story vaguely like this one that springs to mind is 'A Psychical Invasion', the first of Blackwood's John Silence tales. There are of course lots of stories - Wells' 'The Inexperienced Ghost', for instance - that are humourous, but that's another matter.  Anyway, 'Laughter Ever After' sees a bibliophile (yes, another one!) going to a small provincial town in search of an obscure pamphlet containing a ghost story. The story, our collector knows...

This is part of a running review of  Lost Estates  by Mark Valentine (Swan River Press 2024) The life and death of General Gordon is little known today. A typical Victorian hero - courageous, strange, and obsessive - Gordon's spiritual beliefs informed his many military exploits. He suppressed slavery in much of North Africa, led an 'Ever Victorious Army' that defeated the insanely destructive Taiping rebels in China, and then died in controversial circumstances at the hands of Mahdist rebels in the Sudan.  And it is the death of Gordon that begins this unusual story, or perhaps meditation is a better word. A young man takes to his clergyman father the terrible news learned from newspaper vendors in a small Welsh town. Later, he discovers a small book that outlines Gordon's mystical ideas. The young man is the writer known as Arthur Machen, and his contemplation of Gordon's intellectual legacy informs his visionary approach to literature. I found this story interest...

This is part of a running review of  Lost Estates  by Mark Valentine (Swan River Press 2024) Disappearances, Chesterton remarked, are harder to account for than manifestations. After all, the family ghost is merely keeping up appearances. In this story Mark Valentine interweaves two narratives, one of a chap called Crabbe, and the other of a friend who investigates (to the best of his ability) Crabbe's vanishing.  This is Machen territory, to some extent, with emphasis on the mysteries of landscape and deep, strange folklore. Crabbe has undoubtedly left our world - but did he end up in a better place? We read of 'voices in the garden. Lord serpent and the moss boy, iridescent...' It is a world of wonders, but is it safe? Crabbe seems to be losing his sense of identity. But is it really a loss? Or the laying down of an all-too-human burden?  In the end it is indeed the mystery that endures. The nameless friend resolves to follow the path Crabbe took, an apparently inn...

  This is part of a running review of  Lost Estates  by Mark Valentine (Swan River Press 2024) The title of this story comes from an innocent remark by a character in Thomas Hardy's first published novel. Hardy's reference is to a musical instrument. But in this tale, Mark Valentine's bibliophile narrator finds something far stranger.  Anyone who has visited Hay-on-Wye knows that there are bookshops without shopkeepers, where you can leave money in an honesty box after taking some obscure paperback from a somewhat straggling array. In this tale the protagonist finds himself in an isolated shop full of books on one particular theme - the Brazen Serpent. I am sadly ignorant of the significance of this entity but significant it certainly is.  The atmosphere is well evoked. Do I take something and leave the money? Do I leave a note of my address so I can pay later? The book hunter decided to do the latter, but then a sudden tempest arises, the lights fail, and he en...

This is part of a running review of Lost Estates by Mark Valentine (Swan River Press 2024) Chess is a fascinating game at which I am very bad. Fortunately I have yet to inherit a country estate where the requirement of the lease is that I should be prepared to play chess with the King should he ever drop by at Michaelmas. This seems like a fictionalised version of one of those quirky English traditions that foreigners find charming. (A genuine tradition, the peppercorn rent, is explained by the author here.)  As the story, unfolds, we discover that perhaps something altogether stranger and more hazardous than a quirky legal arrangement is involved. The narrator, a man of antiquarian pursuits, is called in to offer advice on the mysterious chess game, which has never actually been played. He meets both the heir to a pleasant if somewhat run-down house and lands, and a young woman with some knowledge of local folklore. 

I recently received a copy of this handsome volume (thank you very much to Swan River) and will offer my thoughts on the contents in a running review. In the meantime, consider the lovely cover. Two of the stories will be familiar to ST readers as they first appeared in the magazine. Contents “A Chess Game at Michaelmas” “Worse Things Than Serpents” “Fortunes Told: Fresh Samphire” “The House of Flame” “The Seventh Card” “And maybe the parakeet was correct” “Laughter Ever After” “Readers of the Sands” “The Understanding of the Signs” “Lost Estates” “The End of Alpha Street” “The Fifth Moon” “Sources” “Acknowledgements” “About the Author”

  I have revised the contents for the autumn issue, as I was very, very stupid. I originally included a story by Steve Rasnic Tem that is better suited to the winter issue. So I have swapped it out for a tale by ST newbie Roger Luckhurst. Apart from that bit of idiocy, all is well. Probably.

  This is a running review of the book Spirits of the Dead. Find out more  here . The final story in this fine anthology is a previously unpublished tale, it adopts a Machenesque approach, with an introduction that stresses the central MS is relatively recent. And yet it is the account of someone born in 1860. How can this be? I suspect most readers will guess how. The memoir is the work of an Englishman who, raised in the Catholic tradition, went over to the 'dark side' by contemplating mysteries of sacrifice and demonic invocation. His life goes off the rails until, in 1888, he finds himself in the Whitechapel area of London, and a sudden impulse leads him to... Well, I think we all know what. I don't think it's a major spoiler to say this is one in a venerable sub-genre of Jack the Ripper stories that involve the paranormal. Robert Bloch may have started it all, and many TV shows (including, rather surprisingly, the original series of Stark Trek) continued the tradit...

  This is a running review of the book Spirits of the Dead. Find out more  here . My opinion on the penultimate story in this collection has not changed since I first came across it 2015 in a collection of works inspired by Arthur Machen. So... Ron Weighell's 'The Chapel of Infernal Devotion' is not just an erudite horror story but an extended essay on Machen's cultural significance. It follows a book collector who fails to secure a particular illustration at an auction. His researches reveal a link between the mysterious artist, who used the name Adam Midnight, and Machen. Midnight, whose real name was Philip Youlden, seems to have had a more than purely aesthetic interest in the occult. Our hero is inspired to try and find out more. Thus begins an odyssey that takes the protagonist from the relatively comfortable world of book dealers to the strange house of Plas Gwyllion, where an elderly musician guards Youlden's bizarre and dangerous legacy. Along the way we e...

  This is a running review of the book Spirits of the Dead. Find out more  here . I always enjoy discovering new words - new to me that is - and this story begins with 'Grangerising'.  This is apparently the 'addition of relevant but extraneous material' to books. In this case the narrator mentions that long-established practice of adding titles in the back of a book, or inserting them separately, to whet the appetite of the discerning reader.  In this case, a collector whimsically sends off for a book that was advertised many years previously, using a ten bob note. Imagine his surprise when the book arrives.  Naturally our nameless protagonist investigates, and this takes him to the eponymous bookshop of the title. Here he discovers a most unusual woman, and her late husband's strange discovery - a kind of magical time machine.  The problems of time travel have to be explored, while the origins of the Timepiece, as it is dubbed, naturally lead to many myst...

  This is a running review of the book Spirits of the Dead. Find out more  here . The Celtic Twilight coincides - or at least overlaps - with the Golden Age of the ghost story and the emergence of modern horror fiction, i.e. that fascinating era incorporating the late 19th and early 20th century. W.B. Yeats was in may ways the mystical guiding star of the former movement, trend, whatever you call it. So it's no surprise to find Yeats - or at least his work and ideas - in this collection of weird tales by the erudite Ron Weighell.  The story is straightforward. The narrator ventures to a remote area of Ireland to examine a collection of Yeatsiana, only to discover hitherto unknown writings. These include an ingenious device that seems to be some kind of mystical computer made - appropriately enough - of paper. There are also 'mystical utterances' by Yeats' English wife, Georgie, who was a spiritualist medium. This literary treasure trove leads the narrator to decipher a ...

This is a running review of the book Spirits of the Dead. Find out more  here . Now here's a nasty little story, in the good sense of the term. Adrian and Catherine  discover a hidden door in their newly-bought manor house. The door proves to be that of a closet, inside which is a painting of two people - apparently brother and sister. A diary is also retrieved and offers information about the rather odd looking former occupants.  The couple decide to make the painting central to a Christmas party, which will require guests to don Victorian attire and play suitable party games.  But, by the time the guests arrive, strange transformations have been wrought upon Adrian and Catherine. They are really not themselves at the party, where the games - though engaging - seem to lack a certain jollity. This is another tale in which Ron Weighell seems to be channeling past masters, with a hint of Hugh Walpole and perhaps Blackwood on one of his bleaker days. Good fun, and a wor...

This is a running review of the book Spirits of the Dead. Find out more  here . The previous tale in this collection featured book burning, usually a monstrous act. But perhaps, as this story suggests, some books would be better destroyed? This brief tale concerns a disturbing volume that transforms a mild-mannered bookworm into something altogether more exotic and unpleasant. Fauns and satyrs feature in the book, and also in a dream that becomes a nightmare. Pan is truly the god of panic here - panic, and worse.  Our bibliophile wakes to find his body naked and bruised, and his room in chaos. His discarded clothes are damp. Then comes a terrible revelation. Plotwise this is familiar stuff - the mysterious object that casts a spell on its possessor and compels him to commit heinous acts. But Weighell handles it well, giving it an authentic frisson of Decadence and a hint of the Silver Age of the ghost story i.e. the interwar period of Benson, Burrage, and Wakefield among other...

  This is a running review of the book Spirits of the Dead. Find out more  here . I assumed from the title of this one that it would be Blakeian i.e. it's drawn from 'The Sick Rose'. And perhaps the story is, but not in ways I could have predicted. Because this time Ron Weighell takes us to Renaissance Italy and a period of history that saw an extraordinary flowering of scholarship. Unfortunately, it also saw something else - an outburst of censorship and anti-intellectualism that resonates all too uncomfortably with the modern West. The story concerns Eleanora, a beautiful and accomplished young lady whose father - a true humanist - has ensured that she is as well educated and independent as any young gentleman. There is a long, sensuous description of classical statuary and texts as our heroine walks in her father's gardens. But then a fly in the ointment appears in form of a black-clad monk of distintinctly mean visage. Gradually it becomes apparent that we are in or...

  This is a running review of the book Spirits of the Dead. Find out more  here . The title story of this collection has an epigraph from Poe and turns out to be a homage to the man and his work. It is the early Seventies and the unnamed narrator finds himself benighted and caught in a thunderstorm in upstate New York. He seeks refuge in a splendid house that, rather oddly, is unlocked but also apparently untenanted. This is a nod to 'The Oval Portrait', the first of several Poe tales that our man experiences in a kind of reverie.  It's a short, relatively slight tale that packs a lot of imagery into a simple plot. There are ravens, of course, plus the suite of rooms from Prospero's castle and a catacomb featuring a particular Latin motto. The denouement is not surprising, but does satisfy. This one made me want to reread Poe for the first time in years. It's also interesting to see how Ron Weighell puts his own creative stamp on ideas and imagery that have inspired...

This is a running review of the book Spirits of the Dead. Find out more  here . "So many, I had not thought that Dreamtours Holiday Company had undone so many." This third story from the latest (and last?) collection of Ron Weighell's stories is a hallucinatory tour de force. A man only described as the Tour Guide struggles with a major drink problem while conducting a group of sightseers around historic Sicily.  The beauty and strangeness of the various temples is well evoked. You get the feeling the author didn't just do a package tour but immersed himself in all things classical.  There are a few acerbic comments about Brits abroad, but most of the tale involves the unpeeling of arcane truths about the Guide. He has, it seems, a background in esoteric research, but ventured too far into certain areas of scholarship and has paid the price.  The Tour Guide sees the world around him as a kind of hellscape, inhabited by ghosts, demons, and less definable entities. His...

This is a running review of the book Spirits of the Dead. Find out more  here . The second story in this collection features an amiable but rather solitary clergyman preparing to celebrate Christmas on his tod. The young, enthusiastic vicar has not won over the locals in a rather isolated rural community. He has received no invitations for the festive season, nor has he had the courage to issue any. And so our man prepares for a solitary evening on December 24th. Until there is a knock at the door... The priest first suspects that his unexpected callers are a bunch of carol singers, but he soon realises his mistake. They in fact appear to be a group of bedraggled homeless people. But what an odd, mismatched group they seem to be. An old man, a woman, a pretty girl, and a dwarfish individual grasping a life-sized doll - what might they want?  As with the previous story, Weighell's deep knowledge of folklore and religious history is evident here. The title is a clue as what the ...

This is a running review of the book Spirits of the Dead. Find out more  here . The late Ron Weighell's collection The White Road remains one of the  classics of modern British weird fiction. Sarob Press have now produced a handsome volume of tales that underline just how great a talent we lost when the author passed away in 2020.  The new (and possibly last) collection of the late Ron Weighell's stories hits the ground running with an excellent ghost story. There is a distinct touch of M.R. James in the way a very ordinary and nice married couple encounter the supernatural. A middle-aged man is told by his wife to dress nicely because they have guests. He finds his belt needs a new hole if he's to wear those new trousers. From this, much follows.  Weighell's strengths are to the fore here, particularly his erudition. There is black humour aplenty as a modern, liberal-minded man finds himself possessed by the crazed attitudes of a seventeenth-century witchfinder. Gr...

  'The stories: “The Malleus Bone” “Older than Christmas*” “The Palace of Force and Fire” “Spirits of the Dead” “The Invisible Worm” “The Mark of Andreas Germer” “The Tale Once Told*” “Under the Frenzy of the Fourteenth Moon” “Drebbel, Zander and Zervan” “The Chapel of Infernal Devotion” and “On Murder Considered as One of the Black Arts*”. With an extensive introduction by Mark Valentine. *Previously unpublished and original to this collection.' I have received a review copy of this book and will start a running review shortly. Find out more at Sarob Press.

The next issue - due out in the autumn - will see a mixture of familiar names and some newbies. I hope, as always, that the stories find favour with the eager masses! Contents (not necessarily in this order, however): 'The Night Visitor' by Steve Rasnic Tem 'Violet' by Rosanne Rabinowitz 'A Day Like No Other' by Sam Dawson 'Corpsed' by Matthew G. Rees 'The Haunting of Ian Bland' by Lisa Pritchard 'Hell Is' by James Everington 'Braunhofer's Coaches' by Martin Ruf, translated by Louis Marvick Provisional cover, art by Sam Dawson.

I've been a bit slow off the mark with my reviews this year, for various reasons. But I must mention the latest poetry pamphlet from Cardinal Cox, one of the most interesting writers on weird fiction we have. Instead of producing short stories or essays, this poet creates small, inexpensive pamphlets containing plenty of erudite notes as well as his often inspired verisyfing.  I've always liked Nyarlathotep, and this small collection does the mysterious geezer proud. Here we find the Starry Wisdom Cult, the obsequies of Queen Nitocris, and an interesting sidelight on witchcraft. The latter is particularly good. Couched as an interrogation of a woman who has 'no sins to confess', it begins with the usual turning of the screw. But then, hilariously, the woman implicates almost all of the solid citizens who accused her in the first place. Was Nyarlathotep the Black Man of the woods? Suffice to say it's convincing. Even the bit about her changing into a hare. What I lik...

Helen Grant's Christmas and distinctly Icelandic folk horror story ' Nábrók ' from issue 56 has been selected by Ellen Datlow for her long-running and prestigious anthology The Best Horror of the Year. Well done, Helen! An accolade truly deserved and not the first, I feel sure.  Here is the full table of contents:

A reading by yours truly of one of the all-time classics. I hope you enjoy it!  I'm told my voice sends people to sleep so maybe try it at bedtime. 

'Hanako of the Toilet' is a famous Japanese urban myth of a girl ghost that haunts... well, you can work it out for yourself.  (I think the red armbands indicate that they are prefects, btw.)

  New stories by Mark Falkin, Carole Tyrrell, Cliff McNish, Tom Johnstone, Reggie Chamberlain-King, and Timothy Granville Cover art by Sam Dawson Go here to order from Lulu.com

ST 55 features a tale by Brighton's finest purveyor of contemporary horror, Tom Johnstone. And it just so happens that Alchemy Press is about to issue a new edition of a cracking collection of stories by the selfsame chap. It seems only reassonable, therefore, to offer readers of this blog (hello Derek!) the rundown on this fine tome. (NB I received a pdf copy from the author.) The title story focuses on that horror-friendly form of entertainment, ventriloquism. Anyone who has seen Dead of Night knows the potential in 'the voice from the belly', and the creation of an alternate personality attached to a doll. In this story, the narrator is haunted by the first vent act she saw: 'The manikin sat on the man’s knee, like a child, but its dapper tweed jacket and silk cravat and barbed insults suggested an urbane man-about-town. If this was a child it was a creepily precocious one...' There's more to it than creepiness, of course. The narrator's father is an ...