REVIEW: Teenage Grave | Filthy Loot, Ed. Ira Rat

Teenage Grave from Filthy Loot

Filthy Loot consistently puts out good product, and the press’s latest release is no exception.

This is a nice and tight anthology, coming in at just 70 pages, and can easily be read in one sitting. Every paragraph is compelling, and each story is paced nicely, with good payoff endings.

Jo Quenell hits it out of the park, as always, with “Stale Air.” Creepy and sad.

Sam Richard’s “I Know Not the Names of the Gods to Whom I Pray” is a look at visceral grief and bereavement after the death of a romantic and sexual partner. Sam’s writing punches you right in the gut, over and over, and his descriptions of gore are always fantastic. (check out more from Sam at WeirdpunkBooks.com)

“Apate’s Children” is the first work I’ve read by Brendan Vidito, and I really enjoyed it. Creative interpretation of guilt and atonement. Really imaginative use of mythological reference here, too.

Justin Lutz‘s “Start Today” gave made my stomach churn, gave me chills, and left me with my jaw hangin’ on the floor, in that order. Loved it. Great way to end.

I don’t hesitate when I give this book a 5-star rating. Filthy Loot had introduced to me so many authors whose work I love, and I’m excited to see what they have coming up next for us.

Follow Filthy Loot editor, Ira Rat on Twitter @eyerarat, and me @evanstjones

Review: Andrew J. Stone | All Hail the House Gods

All Hail the House Gods by Andrew J. Stone drops the reader into a dystopian future where even the illusion of autonomy and choice has been eradicated. Kurt, our protagonist, and his wife, Katie live in a city run by the Coupling Caucus, whose mission is to organize society in such a way that will produce daily sacrifices to the hungry House Gods. They are born to mate, and they mate to sacrifice.

Families are non-existent in AHTHG’s reality. Children are taken from their parents and raised at the Offspring Oasis, where they are either culled for the House Gods or paired off based on puberty and virility. They are taught to “pug” at a young age to increase their chances of being coupled before they are chosen for sacrifice to the House Gods.

After one of their own is chosen and fed to the House Gods, Katie decides she must start a collective to resist the Coupling Caucus and wage war on the houses, and Kurt is taken along for the ride. It’s not long before Kurt overhears a theory that goes against all the collective believes in. Are some House Gods good? Is it possible to overthrow the current system without violence?

To know anything about Andrew J. Stone is to know that he holds deeply leftist political views, and it’s clear that those views informed this novella. There’s a metaphorical war going on in its pages between centrist, “Let’s-all-get-along” liberals and leftists, and the fight between the two sides was illuminated well by Stone.

The prose in All Hail the House Gods is easily digestible, well-written, and effective. Written from Kurt’s perspective, the story propels itself nicely, making it a quick and exciting read. Kurt is a perfectly likable protagonist you want to root for. Will he find a peaceful solution to end the loss of life to the House Gods?

January 6th, 2021 was a dark day for those of us in the U.S. Rioters protesting the presidential election of Joe Biden stormed D.C. and breached the capitol building. Since then, we’ve seen Republicans and Democrats alike call for “healing” and a “reconciliation between the sides.” If I can, let me relate this to the theme of the book: there are some who believe that there are good people on both sides and that it’s worth reaching across the aisle and working within the confines of the system in place. Kurt, as a character, falls firmly within this group, while Katie and her comrades know that doing so is useless.

Will it be worth it for Kurt, in the end, to put his trust in the belief that some House Gods are good? Pick up a copy of All Hail the House Gods to find out.

Check out Andrew on Twitter @Andrewosaurus96 and me @EvanStJones.

Review: Dale Robertson | Project Fear: Season 1

Domestic, familial horror. Sentimental. Suburban. Dale Robertson’s Project Fear is a collection of horror stories that inspire nostalgia for the 90s kid in me. With tales that sit comfortably next to those that were told on television shows like Are You Afraid of the Dark? and Goosebumps, this collection is one that will satiate the hunger of anyone who fondly recalls being spooked as a child.

Most of the stories revolve around families and children, and I assume Robertson is a dog person, seeing as many of the episodes feature man’s best friend in starring roles, which I also appreciate. 

Some of the episodes that stood out to me:

Episode 2: “Chew Toy” deals with the loss of a family pet, and how desperation to memorialize it (as well as procrastinating shopping for a birthday present) can lead to despair.

Episode 5 reminds me of stories about Dybbuk boxes. A little girl finds an odd music box at a yard sale and takes it home to find it impossible to open. Little does she know, this box will change her life forever.

Episode 7: “Stitches” recalls urban legends parents would tell their children to keep them from misbehaving. 

Episode 9 is a continuation of episode 4. Both are written as transcripts from a voice recording of a man who witnesses mass violence and chaos as people begin transforming into monsters. I love the found footage vibe from this set of stories.

Episode 10 is a revenge story of a femme fatale who kidnaps skeezy car salesmen who manipulate and take advantage of women in order to close a sale. This one gave me Saw/The Hunger Games vibes, and was a lot of fun!

Episode 12: Skee-bo. A violent, modern retelling of the Bloody Mary myth. 

Like mentioned before, if you’re a fan of shows like Are You Afraid of the Dark? and Creepshow, this is the collection for you! With 13 spine-tingling tales, you’re sure to find one or two that suit your fancy.

Follow Dale on Twitter @Dale_Dez81 and me @EvanStJones.

Review: Jo Quenell | The Mud Ballad

The sky opened up and rained for me during two of my sessions with The Mud Ballad by Jo Quenell.

We begin in a small, rundown town called Spudsville with Jonathan and Daniel, a set of twins conjoined at the head. We meet them in their tent at the circus they travel with discussing the imminent self-separation Jonathan has planned for the two of them. He performs the deed, and Dawes, the resident circus doctor finds them bleeding out, Daniel’s throat slashed. He is able to save Jonathan and amputate his brother’s corpse from his head, leaving a protrusion like a horn.

Jonathan goes on trial with the circus for the murder of Daniel. He is found guilty and exiled from his carnival community. 

The story continues years later when Dawes returns to Spudsville, surprised to see Jonathan working as a restroom attendant at a bar there. Dawes has quit the circus and travels back to Spudsville to try and settle down. Jonathan offers Dawes a place to stay, if only a moldy sofa in a tiny shed behind the bar. In exchange for his hospitality, Jonathan asks Dawes to help him dig up the bones of his twin because he didn’t have a chance to say goodbye before Daniel’s burial. After the exhumation, things get stranger and more bizarre until all hell breaks loose upon our protagonists and the denizens of Spudsville.

And hell breaking loose in Spudsville is quite the ride. We have children raised to be fierce and violent soldiers, taught to fight with bear hands and teeth, brutal, carnivorous pigs that cannot be satiated, murderous mimes, bloodthirsty demons summoned from the grave, botched slayings and surgeries, Satanic cults, and so much more.

The Mud Ballad oozes grime from its pages, never letting you get more than a few paragraphs before again making you feel ill and as oppressed as some of those living in the rain-soaked dirt fields of Spudsville felt. Jo Quenell’s first novella succeeds in creating a bizarro world rich with characters who operate based significantly on desire and regret. There’s an air of sadness and guilt that pervades The Mud Ballad from start to finish. It isn’t stifling, and there is enough comedy to provide levity, but it’s an undeniable feature of the story (I mention this less as criticism and more as an acknowledgement of well-established tone and mood).

Despite its darkness, The Mud Ballad was a quick and fun read, and I’m already looking forward to reading more stories by Quenell.

Review: Gerald Dean Rice | The Devil’s Gunt

The Devil’s Gunt by Gerald Dean Rice

The Devil’s Gunt is a bizarro horror-action(?) story about a second-rate porn actor impregnated by the devil. I can’t recall another book that ever made me laugh as hard as I did while reading this one; I couldn’t get two pages in before coming across another side-splitting line, and the outlandish humor keeps coming through ‘til the end of the book.

Our protagonist, Median, is introduced to the reader at a porn shoot he is starring in. While filming a scene, Median feels a pinching sensation around his asshole, which eventually moves inside his rectum. When he reaches climax, he cannot stop cumming. He soaks everyone in the room, enraging the director. He is fired from the shoot and goes home exhausted from his excess ejaculation. From there, he discovers his roommate is keeping a talking severed head in their refrigerator. He takes the head and jumps in his car; the head breaks the news to Median that he is pregnant with the devil’s seed, and they are soon joined by Joe (Median’s roommate, looking for the head), and Mary (Median’s wife; they’re separated), both with dark secrets of their own. Strap in (or strap-on) for a twisty and hilarious ride full of angels, devils, crisis pregnancy centers posing as real abortion clinics, aging actors named Hammercock and lots of violence. 

Though it takes place only over a couple of days, it felt somewhat like an epic adventure to me, with Median and crew narrowly escaping danger a number of times. There are several side plots that come together nicely with the main story by the end. Reading some of the flashbacks for the first time might seem confusing, but all will be revealed eventually.

Gerald Dean Rice has offered up some solid humor as well as mystery in The Devil’s Gunt. I called it bizarro horror-action earlier, but maybe also bizarro comedy-thriller, but also there’s no reason at all to put this book in a box like that. You can also find commentary on racism, the rights to reproductive justice, and bodily autonomy here, and it’s good.  Just read it.