When Eddie gets a flat in the middle of nowhere, the last thing on his mind is death. Then as darkness falls and the storm worsens, he’s forced to seek shelter alongside his significant other, Banksy. Big mistake.
Bed and Breakfast, the sign said, but there are no eggs and bacon on the menu here. Instead, their host serves up four tales of terror with a little murder on the side. And as the other residents of the mansion gradually reveal themselves, Eddie and Banksy begin to wonder if they’ll ever check out alive.
(review request submitted by the author for an honest critique)
Dead and Breakfastis a collection of 5 short stories, but they are not disjointed. I won’t say how Gary’s connects them, but I will say it’s twisted…morbid…and creepy AF!
No matter if you are reading Cords, The Brace, The Weight of Nostalgia, or The Greyfriars, you’ll discover something in each of these tales that’ll cause you to make the eww, grossed-out face. Case in point, in The Greyfriars, there were BIG, FAT MAGGOTS. I found them equally or more disturbing than the phantoms/ghosts/spirits. Yeah, I hate insects that much.
Don’t get me started on all the various other haunting creatures…
Without a doubt, Gary’s mind is as twisted as Stephen King’s. One day, I hope to see Gary’s workings brought to life on the big screen. Of course, I’ll be watching the movie through parted fingers.
Heart Rating System: 1 (lowest) and 5 (highest) Score:❤❤❤❤
Gary Buller is an author from Manchester England where he lives with his long suffering partner Lisa, and his daughter Holly. He is a huge fan of all things macabre having grown up reading King and Koontz and loves a tale with a twist.
Brace yourself for another two-barrel blast of unrelenting horror and suspense. Volume 3 of the ‘Double Barrel Horror’ anthology series delivers two chilling tales from each of six talented authors for a twelve-story onslaught that will blow you out of your sneakers. This time around, your fate lies in the hands of Christine Morgan, Mark Matthews, Theresa Braun, Calvin Demmer, Glenn Rolfe, and Robert Essig.
(review request submitted by Theresa Braun, contributing author, for an honest critique)
There are twelve stories in this gory anthology. I am going to share my favorite story from each author.
I had no idea so many phrases had the word “eye” in it. Christine Morgan’s Eye See You discussed mentioned several.
keeping an eye on you
look with your eyes, not your hands
eye spy with my little eye
eyes in the back of your head
eat with your eyes first
When a child hears these phrases, their minds might translate to a literal form. Maybe a child believes EYES are in the back of heads. If you step into their mindset, this phrase is creepy. That’s why I think many will find Eye See Youdisturbing. It makes you rethink and picture a not so pleasant scene.
If you have a weak stomach, as in the mere mention of puke causes you to gag, then pass on From Unclean Spells by Robert Essig. There was so much vomit in this short story. I mean, you could slip- n-slide in the slimy stuff if you wanted to… not that I am suggesting you ever do so. I am just giving you a nasty visual of how much upchuck was involved. Oh yeah, there’s a grotesque monster in this tale as well. He made me wanna relieve myself of my breakfast foods as well.
Wicked Smart Carnie by Mark Matthews solidified what my mother told me every year of my childhood when the carnival came to town… “Never trust a carnie. Never talk to a carnie. NEVER, EVER, go off with a carnie alone!”
I’m sure carnies are lovely people, but they give off a creepy vibe to me. I’m assuming Mark Matthews (the author) has felt the creep vibe from them as well.
Theresa Braun’s Stillborn had a great combination of science fiction, mystery, suspense, gore, and shock. I mean, first, she had body parts in jars. But, she topped herself when more jars were exposed. (no spoilers)
Mad scientist… Invasion of the Body Snatchers… I’m not sure what the heck is going on in that hospital, and I’m not sure if I want to know. Who am I kidding… I so want to know. I didn’t want the story to end!
Calvin Demmer drew me in with Highway Hunger. His monster was a seven-foot squid/octopus with two large eyes that fed on dying animals or humans. Ok, that sounds good on paper. In-person, not so much.
And the ending, wow, I DID NOT see that coming. I bet Dudley didn’t either.
Oh and the rat scene… SHIVERS!
When I was a child, there was an urban legend that a Cabbage Patch Doll came alive and suffocated a baby in her sleep. I immediately tossed all my big dolls in the trash. Even now, as I shop in stores, I give them the side-eye. I know it’s my imagination, but I swear them look a little too intently at me. Plus, they can blink their eyes. That’s creepy.
Oh, and don’t get me started on the dolls that look, feel, and act like real babies. Those dolls are nightmare inducers!
After reading The House on Mayflower by Glenn Rolfe, I have a new fear. I’d tell you, but I don’t want to ruin the story for others.
With famine and disease spreading out of control, the death toll was the worst in recorded history. It was being described at first as the Black Death. Little did the world know at the time but it was much worse.
The living had to fight to stay alive. It was what they fought against that the world wasn’t ready for. Corpses rose from out of the ground, rotted and putrid. Decaying masses herded quickly, devouring everything in their way.
It is now 1855 and a crew of fearless cowboys face off against what their ancestors failed to vanquish. Follow Gus, Cole, Hector, Fred, and Yahto as they do everything they can to eradicate the pestilence plaguing the Wild West. To right the wrongs of their forefathers, they must purge the world of the undead.
The poor ill-fated mare had one of its dark brown eyes plastered to its face, still hanging on its tendon.
For Yahto, the worst thing was the horse’s stomach had been gnawed open. The ripped-out, unborn fetus still lay in its amniotic membrane mixed with slimy gore sprawled out on the ground amid the hay and dirt. Next to that lay the horse’s stomach and liver. All of it looked as though it had been eaten and then regurgitated.
When Yahto’s eyes panned over the horse, he noticed how the top of its head had a gaping wound, and its brain had been half ripped out of its head, eaten. The other half spilled down the side of the horse’s face and onto the ground in a pool mixed with cerebral fluids and blood. All four of her legs were folded at the knee joints, so she appeared to be kneeling. If it weren’t for the others eating her, she’d have been flat on her side. Flies buzzed relentlessly, and the smell of blood assaulted the men, burning the backs of their throats.
(digital copy supplied by Kevin Kennedy for an honest review)
Won’t You Open the Door? by Steve Stred: As young children, it is hardwired in our brains to fear certain supernatural beings. As we venture into adulthood, those same unnatural beings still frighten us, whether in word form or on the movie/television scene.
There isn’t one supernatural being I’d mock with. I’d definitely not trifle with a witch. Dead or alive, they are powerful. Ezkiel, his brother and family, and even his best friend Oliver learned this the hard way.
Steve chose the right character to haunt the characters. I felt their fear. I understood why Oliver pissed himself. And I grasped why the witch struck out against Ezkiel and the others.
Again, I say, never f**k around with a witch, living or dead!
Hooch and Honeyby Kevin J. Kennedy:Okay, aspects of this short story were creepy… like I would’ve gagged if I witnessed firsthand how the hooch was made. However, I think the story ended before it really began. Not bad though.
The Blood-Soaked Branches of the Bullingdon Family Tree by Lex H. Jones:Twisted, sick, disturbing… wow, Lex has quite the weird imagination. The plot and characters were 100% f’d the hell up!
Death, She Said by Edward Lee: As a person who’s contemplated suicide on several occasions, I didn’t particularly care for how this story began or ended. Everything in between was bizarre. Not my cup of tea. Sorry.
Forbidden Fruit by Calvin Demmer: This story wasn’t gory. It wasn’t your typical supernatural short story either. It was different, and that’s what I enjoyed about it. Man was really his own worst enemy in this story.
Heart Rating System: 1 (lowest) and 5 (highest) Score:❤❤❤
Apples is a tale of a father and daughter finding themselves; Apples is a short dive into the horrors to be found in the English Countryside
In Snail Trails, Dave and the love of his life―Walter the dog―out on a walk one day discover all the snails, slugs and worms heading towards the hills. Dave and his faithful friend investigate. So begins the apocalypse…
The end of summer saw the beginning of the change. Fresh winds raced across the fields, scattering brown leaves as it went. Mike negotiated with Lucy’s school, allowing for a temporary home-schooling period. After a day of working outside, they would sit together to do school work, television chattering away in the background.
As autumn crept closer, the evenings began darkening quicker, bringing with it a damp chill. Mike would get a fire going as Lucy closed the old-fashioned shutters, shutting out the world. As the wind sighed its lullabies, they felt warm and cosy inside the house.
Autumn marched on and the weather continued to turn. The wind gathered momentum, roaring down the chimney as it whipped the trees into a frenzy. The rusted aerial on the roof creaked and groaned as tiles clung on for dear life, reducing TV reception to grey static. Switching it off, they could make out the distant clanging of a neighbour’s wind chime over the howling wind. They spent the night reading and listening to the wind moan.
The next day Mike got up with the dawn. The morning was fresh and crisp with a ground mist rising to meet the pale-yellow sun. The smell of damp leaves mingled with bonfire smoke. A pheasant crowed out unseen. He walked around, assessing the damage the wind had delivered. The strawberries had escaped the ravages. The same could not be said for the dead birds that lay around the base of the old apple tree. He frowned. Counting about six, the carcasses were all withered and dried out. He picked up the birds and tossed them into the garbage before Lucy awoke, not wanting his daughter to see the strange corpses.
Born from an egg on a mountain top, Russell has spent the past 40 something years doing stuff and things. After spending a decade travelling around the world he has now settled down in the North of England. He lives with his lovely family and a few errant cats, who know far more than they should. Luckily they’re not telling.