Black Horror Month : Warmth / An Unforgettable Journey

WARMTH by Sumiko Saulson

Review by Valjeanne Jeffers

In her third novel, Warmth, horror writer aficionado Sumiko Saulson weaves a supernatural labyrinth peopled with Afflicted beings or ghulah: Creatures who live by drinking the blood and eating the flesh of humans. The ghulah are intelligent meta-humans who go about their unusual lives … loving, eating, and always seeking warmth. For their transformation has rendered them unable to sustain body heat. And then there’s the second breed of preternatural creatures. The Dead: Lethal walking, breathing corpses with no other desire than to kill and eat. 

The heroine of Warmth, Leilana or, as she prefers to be called, Sera, is one of the Afflicted: A ghulah. Like all of her kind, she is not immortal but has an extraordinarily long life span. Sera was transformed and lost an eye when she was attacked by one of the Dead. And she takes great joy in hunting and killing these creatures… well aware of the dangers they pose for the world of the living. 

She looks like a young runaway, yet she is in reality centuries old, and she’s been pregnant since the Spanish Inquisition with a fetus that is also Afflicted. Yet Sera has no desire to be a mother and feels no maternal stirrings towards her unborn fetus— a child that will take centuries to grow to adulthood.  

The reader is first introduced to Leilana during the conquest of America, as she is thrust into the role of both rescuer and hunter. When a zombie attacks one of the men who has offered her shelter, thinking her to be an old woman, Sera quickly reveals herself to be a deadly supernatural being.

“She flew into the front door of the cottage, where the cause of Adolfo’s suffering became immediately apparent. The original Lazaro… the old gravedigger, had him pinned against the wall, and had bitten deeply into the flesh of his cheek, chewing it… eating it. Rotted clothes hung from the rail-thin frame of the Old Lazaro, and in places, purplish, bruised flesh showed through. The whites of his eyes had gone the cloudy yellow color of mucous. The ends of his fingers were caked with thick, wet grave dirt.

“I hate the Dead,” she hissed under her breath, running toward it. She shoved the sharpened end of her pike through the creature’s eye with such force that it went through the back of its skull, pinning it to the wall. A gelatinous mixture of curdled blood, vitreous humor and purulence issued from the ruptured visage, first slowly oozing, then gushing toward the floor.

Lifting the robe and the long skirts below it, she revealed her leg up to the knee—a small ax was strapped to the outside of her calf in a leather holster. She removed the weapon with a single graceful motion and shortly had it level to the creature’s neck.”

Six hundred years later, Sera is still living, still hunting… and still cold. But now she lives in a modern world: Full of new and lethal dangers. She has enemies. The most dangerous one a psychopathic ghula, whom she crossed paths with long ago. This maniac is convinced that Sera has stolen her baby from her womb, and is determined to reclaim the infant.  

Thus Warmth is a story that challenges the notions of womanhood and beauty. When Sera has the opportunity to have her scared face repaired, she decides to keep her visage as it is— scared though it may be. She cherishes her ruined face because it is the only way to preserve her cherished memories. 

When she looked in the mirror and saw her face, Sera remembered so many friends she’d had in her long past who were no longer with her. Perhaps even more so, she liked it because it was the only thing left in the world to remind her of the life she had before her Affliction—a short life, and difficult. It was gone now, faded into the pages of history.

Her marked face and her birth name were all she had left of it. 

Yet throughout her journey, we are reminded of just how beautiful Sera really is … once one looks beyond her face. This is a novel about becoming: Growing, and reinventing oneself when it’s necessary for survival. 

Saulson has spun a rich, multi-layered tale of both dark humor and nail-biting suspense. Along with the tough survivor Sera, we become acquainted with an entourage of characters; some human, some ghulah, and each with their own complicated, twisted lives. Among this cast is Sweet Melana, the brooding Larenzo, and S&M Master Fadriqueallies, foes. And all preparing for a war that may consume both the Afflicted and humankind alike. 

Saulson is a consummate horror writer, and in Warmth she has given us a horror novel that we will never forget.

Paranormal/ Hauntings Month: The Old Charlseton Jail by Violet Tempest

 

Excerpt from: Legends of Old by Violet Tempest

The Old Charleston Jail, located at 21 Magazine Street, Charleston, SC is well known to locals as being haunted. Some refuse to go near this structure while thrill seekers buy tickets from Bulldog Tours for guided tours. The long history of this jail does give creditability to its many hauntings. Having been used as a prison for over 200 years there was a great deal of suffering that occurred on the grounds and in the cells. (pg. 72)

My personal experience of the tour and afterward:

When our daughter was eleven years old, my husband and I decided it would be fun to start a Halloween tradition of going on a different Ghost Tour in Charleston, SC every year. These would allow us to spend time as a family and introduce our daughter to Lowcountry History.

The area goes back to 1670 when settlers landed on the shores of the Cooper River, founding what is now known as Charlestown Landing. Our first tour was a family friendly tour of the old churches and graveyards in Downtown Charleston.

Two years later we decided to take it up a notch. That’s when we took The Haunted Jail Tour.

By this time our daughter was familiar with the lore of the area, and like us she found the old tales intriguing. Little did we know that the tour would change our views on ghost tours.

We booked a tour for the Saturday before Halloween of 2008. It was chilly evening, and the tour didn’t start until after dark. WE made an event of it, like we had done in the past. Going out to dinner, and our daughter invited her best friend to go with us. The four of us were looking forward to a fun spooky filled evening.

We arrived at the Old Jail with about 20 minutes to spare, so we, along with others who were arriving for the tour, had to stand outside while the tour in progress finished up. Standing on the sidewalk we could hear an occasional loud bang followed by a scream or two. The girls moved to the sidewalk opposite the street, and we weren’t too far behind them. Even across the street we could feel the heavy despair that hung around the old building and grounds.

Finally, the tour ended, and it was time for us to take ours. Friendly, joking banter floated around as strangers teased one another. Nothing that anyone in the group took seriously. I mean, everyone knows the noises on these tours are false.

Right?

Before we could enter, we were told the rules; the most important was to stay together, no one was to wander off. Then the tour began. Standing outside the front entrance our tour guide told us that what is now known as the old jail started out in a hospital for the homeless and other impoverished people.

Years later, in 1802 that building was torn down and replaced with the building that currently stands. Over the years the building that was designed to hold 128 prisoners would at times have so many occupants that there was standing room only. Not only inside, but outside as well. The grounds would be packed with barely enough room for the prisoners to move, and men and women were placed together. They did not separate them.

As you can imagine, the conditions created disease, and many died before they were released. The city kept a body cart on the property where the dead bodies were stacked on top of one another.

When the cart was full, it was then driven to the river, and the bodies dumped. Our guide said that there were many times the bodies piled up before they decayed and so another site, further down the river, would have to be used. Her words painted a vivid image and my flesh crawled as my mind carried me back to that time.

That wasn’t the end of the horror she painted for us.

We followed her inside, and she showed us the shackles that are still on the walls. The torture devise varied from room to room. Our guide told us how the prisoners who were considered the worst of the Charleston population were tortured, shackled, and starved.

Next, we went up the narrow staircase and saw the huge rooms where,  in the winter there wasn’t any heat nor, of course, in the summer any air conditioning.

The criminals weren’t shown any kindness.

These harsh conditions made it almost impossible to survive. It is approximated that by the time the jail closed in 1939 over 10,000 people died on the property.

It was in the last room where we heard the tale of Lavina Fisher, according to legend she’s the country’s first female serial killer. And yes, while we were in the room a loud bang sounded out. Where exactly it came from I cannot say. The sound echoed all around us. Now, even though I have experienced the unexplained since I was a small child, I was skeptical.

“But surely it was Lavina?” some may be asking. I do not know. Personally, I feel it was all sound effects the tour company added to give their customers a thrill. I can tell you the despair that bore down on us before we started the tour did not leave me. There were times that it felt like someone was behind me, but when I looked no one was there. Other times a cold reached my bones that wasn’t from the chilly autumn air.

Throughout the whole tour I couldn’t shake the feeling of evil all around me.

No one was injured on the tour, and everyone took plenty of pictures. Nothing unusual showed in ours and driving away we talked about the history that we had learned that night. Little did we know that our experience with the old jail was far from over.

Over the next year our daughter and I could not shake the feeling of something watching us at all times. Even in our sleep. After a couple of months things progressed. Our daughter began staying in her room all the time and was always sleepy and moody. We chalked it up to her becoming a teenager, even though that didn’t squelch our concerns.

Then she started showing me her sketches. They were full of an evil crawling out of the darkness of her closest. It wasn’t until one night while she stayed with a friend that I discovered what was really happening to her.

My dear husband snores, and when I say snore I mean shake the walls snore. So that night I was awoken by what can only be called an Earth-Shattering Rumble, I went down to her room and crawled into her empty bed. The snoring was tolerable down there, and I eventually fell back asleep. How long I was asleep I do not know. But while I lay there on my right side, under her comforter, deep asleep,  I felt something jump on the bed, placing hands and feet on either side of me, startling me awake.

At first I thought it was our dog, and I turned to pet her and get her to snuggle up beside me.

What I saw was not our dog.

From the streetlight that peeked through the curtains, I could make out the thing on my daughter’s bed straddling me was a deep, dark, green. Its skin was slimy in appearance. Its squished face did not have a nose, but instead two slits located where one should’ve been. Two glowing red embers for eyes, and a thin, toad-like mouth. When it saw me, those lips pulled back in a snarl showing me sharp, pointy, yellow teeth.

That snarl told me it was not expecting me to be there. It raised its thin right arm and swung claws like a big cat at me.

I jumped from the bed. My muscles quivering, my heart pounding.

“How dare you! You meant to attack my daughter!” I said. The creature jumped down off the bed, and with a laugh that was full of evil, made its way toward me. I did the only thing I could think of.

I stood there in the room, shaking my head, anger filling every pore of my body. “No! You will not get away with this.”

I placed my right palm in the air, toward the ceiling, toward the universe. With my left hand I pointed at the creature and with every fiber of my being I said the only thing I could think of.

“I call on the power of the one who created me. I call upon the power of the supreme one to send you back to the depths of Hell from which you came from!”

As those words left my lips, I felt a warm energy enter my right palm, surge down my arm, through my core, before shooting out my left arm. A bright blue beam shown from my left hand.

The creature’s eyes grew big. Its slimy face filled with fear as its mouth opened in a silent scream. Then it was gone, and I was left standing alone in the center of my daughter’s room.

Looking around, I realized what had happened. A demon had come to attack my daughter and to its surprise found me instead. My heart felt like it was going to beat its way out of my chest, and my body trembled as fear started to take the place of anger. Finally satisfied it was gone, at least for the night, I turned and walked quickly back to our bed where my husband was still sound asleep, his snores now a sound of comfort. I slid back under our covers and laid there the rest of the night.

Sleep did not return.

Come morning, I got up and went back into the room. The bed was still a mess like I’d left it and in the light of day, the previous night’s experience seemed unreal. My mind quickly brought up the images of my daughter’s sketches and I knew that thing had been after her. And I also knew where it had come from.

For some reason it latched on to us at the jail. Coming home with us; a sort of supernatural souvenir.

I talked to my daughter and husband about what happened that night and that’s when we found out the creature had been terrorizing her. It had thrown her clothes across the room. Even lifted her up and spun her around. I told her what I had done, and that I hoped that took care of it.

She changed rooms to what was the spare room. Who could blame her?

Never again has the creature made an appearance and no longer do we feel like something is watching us from the shadows. I will tell you this, The Old Charleston Jail is one place I refuse to go back to.

If you decide to take the tour remember this, there’s no telling what souvenir you will end up with.

To learn more about The Old Charleston City Jail and other South Carolina Lowcountry legends read Legends of Old by Violet Tempest with Bonus Feature section with short stories never before published.

Available as Kindle Unlimited, eBook, and paperback on Amazon.com. Click link above to purchase.

Review: Coven’s Hornbook by Frank Coffman

Review by Marie RavenSoul of The Coven’s Hornbook and Other Poems, by Frank Coffman

 

I HAD to read this book. The intriguing title drew me in like a moth to a flame. Knowing that within its pages were poems about the weird and supernatural made my dark heart leap with joy.

In his introduction, Koffman explains that the title was inspired by Leah Bodine Drake’s poetry collection A Hornbook for Witches. The preface is written by Donald Sidney-Fryer and the illustrations are by Yves Tourigny.

There are fifteen sections of the book, including Witchcraft and Warlockry, Sorcery and Summonings, and The Lycanthropicon: Werewolves and Their Ilk. The poems have numerous origins including Welsh, Spanish, Russian, and Korean. Many are sonnets, and others are long, randomly rhymed, and poetic narratives.

It begins with— A Meeting of the Coven.

       “Then, as the balefire glows

       And flames lick at the sky

       And embers crack and fly,

       A summoning is nigh!

       Soon, called forth by their cries,

       A Demon does arise.”

 The second poem called The Witches’ Sabbats has great meaning for me. I can picture the scene where the Witches are gathering in the forest to celebrate. The following lines gave me chills as they remind me of when I was blessed by Satan-Lucifer. 

       “A Circle round the central Fire as Demon’s called advance

        To join us—baptized in the light of Lucifer.”

Heritage: An Old Country Legend is a long poem. It tells the story of Caleb, his wife, and his children. How one-night Caleb’s wife went up to the graveyard to read poetry—or so she said. It became a regular occurrence until Caleb found her dead with the book, along with a note, by her side. Chilling events continued to happen to the family, making me read as fast as I could with anticipation.

Those Days in Salem Town is about the Salem Witch Trials. When accused of Witchcraft by young girls, members of the town were put on trial and then hanged. It is a compelling story and the following last lines are powerful.

       “But some few know the truth, 

        Fallen spellbound, enthralled.

        By the Dark One we’re called:

         And now—We rise!”

Legend: Archer Avenue, Chicago is a long poem and is about a man who sees a beautiful young girl, dressed in white, as he is driving down a long road. He takes her home, but when he returns to visit, he is in for a shock. The author uses description well and I loved how I could see the girl in her flowing white dress and her light coloured hair. It is the perfect ghost poem that also touches the heart.

I enjoyed Neophyte’s Lesson as it speaks of Baphomet, Crowley, black candles, and bloody letters. A story of a man who studied well-known occultists but got no results. Then when he began to practice, he got more than he bargained for. 

I love the poem Halloween. It has fun rhymes and is about goblins, warlocks, pumpkins, black cats, and spider webs. Children will find it enjoyable to read out loud, especially as part of their Halloween celebrations. 

Ring of Horror is a creepy poem which is one of the reasons why I like it. It makes me feel nostalgic as it reminds me of a circle of stones in a park that I visited a lot as a teenager. Just as in the poem, no one seemed to know how long the stones had been there, and it was rumoured that rituals took place there at night.

Nosferatu is about the vampire film with the same title. It describes Nosferatu in a compelling way to where you can picture his hairless head and pointed ears. He states:

       “This is a vampire from a different realm

       Than Stoker outlined on the classic page. 

       Though sepia black and white, in darkly contrast,

       The Mind’s Eye fills, with colourings of Horror

       At the creature’s form, indelibly to last—”

Another poem that I enjoyed was The Ways Poems Come to Me. It talks about how a poem is put together, beginning with the form in which the poem will be written in, parts of speech, verbs, nouns, what inspired it, and more. It is quite long, but it is worth the read. If you are a poet, then you will be able to identify. 

Great poems to read out loud are The Witches’ Rite at Beltane, The Fateful Flower, Vengeance, and At the Gravesite. The words rhyme in a way that makes them fun to say while adding unique expressions to each line.

A ‘Glossary of Forms’ gives detailed explanations of the many kinds of poetry forms that exist in this book. This includes the ‘Cynghanedd Sain,’ which is when two words in a line rhyme and the second rhymed word alliterates with the final word of the line. The Pantoum, which is a Malaysian form that I recently started using, is fun to write. It is a way to strongly express a feeling or idea as the second and fourth lines of each quatrain are repeated as the first and third lines of the next one. I appreciate all the effort that Coffman put into the glossary, and it will be something that I will return to often to assist with my poetry writing.

 An ‘Alphabetical Index of Titles,’ an ‘Acknowledgement—with Thanks,’ and a ‘Colophon’ concludes the book.

The only gripe that I have with the book is that there are quite a few stereotypical references to Satan and Demons. No, Witches and Satanists do not sacrifice babies nor do the Demons desire it. Unfortunately, these are common themes in horror, but I wish that people would stop using these old myths. 

Overall, this was a good book and I recommend it to those who love horror. If you know someone who doesn’t usually like poetry, you might want to use this book to spark their interest. I suggest taking your time reading this by enjoying one poem at a time, not rushing through the book like it’s a novel. 

Frank Coffman has published fiction and speculative poetry in numerous anthologies and magazines. His writing goes beyond the weird, supernatural, and horrific. He founded the Weird Poets Society Facebook group and is a member of the Horror Writers Association and the Science Fiction and Fantasy Association. He is a retired professor of college Creative Writing, English, and Journalism.

Book Review: A Single Light by Tosca Lee

A Single Light by Tosca Lee
Review by Stephanie Ellis

Rating: 4/5 stars

This book is the sequel to The Line Between

singlelightSix months after vanishing into an underground silo with sixty others, Wynter and Chase emerge to find the area abandoned. There is no sign of Noah and the rest of the group that was supposed to greet them when they emerged—the same people Wynter was counting on to help her locate the IV antibiotics her gravely ill friend, Julie, needs in order to live.

As the clock ticks down on Julie’s life, Wynter and Chase embark on a desperate search for medicine and answers. But what they find is not a nation on the cusp of recovery thanks to the promising new vaccine Wynter herself had a hand in creating, but one decimated by disease. What happened while they were underground?

With food and water in limited supply and their own survival in question, Chase and Wynter must venture further and further from the silo. Aided by an enigmatic mute named Otto, they come face-to-face with a society radically changed by a global pandemic, where communities scrabble to survive under rogue leaders and cities are war zones. As hope fades by the hour and Wynter learns the terrible truth of the last six months, she is called upon once again to help save the nation she no longer recognizes—a place so dark she’s no longer sure it can even survive.

The follow-up to The Line Between brings me the apocalyptic feeling that appeared to be slightly lacking in the first book and as a result, gave a more satisfying read in that respect. The book starts off with pretty much a recap of what had happened previously and so allows anyone who hasn’t read the first book to get to grips with the storyline. Unfortunately, if you have read the prequel, it does come across somewhat heavy-handed and I found it rather annoying as it took a while to move the story further along. Once the author had brought everyone ‘up to speed’ however, the story did move along quite nicely and became a book that I didn’t really want to put down.

The safe-haven Wynter and Chase found for themselves has become anything but. Accusations lead to life-or-death situations, and the once united community splinters and suspicion becomes rife as the clock counts down to ‘Open Day’ in an increasingly claustrophobic atmosphere. Even when the silo opens, nothing goes to plan and there follows a desperate race against time for Wynter to find the necessary medicine to save a close friend’s life. They travel through damaged townships and into dangerous cityscapes, discover the extent of hunger and lack of medication, and the spread of the disease wiping out the human race. Through all this, Wynter’s ability to trust those around her is challenged by an apparent betrayal and her relationship with Chase falters as a result. The book develops into a nicely-paced page-turner, keeping you going to see if Wynter has the happy ending you would like for her or not. As someone who generally backs off from books with a ‘romance’ element, this aspect was sufficiently well done not to make me cringe and kept me reading.

The only reason I did not give this book 5 stars, was the opening ‘catch up’ chapter.

This book is for you if you like an apocalyptic thriller with a dash of romance.

Book Review : Whisper Music (The Morrigan Canticles) by JBToner

Review by Jason Morrison

What can I say about Whisper Music  ( The Morrigan Canticles)? This book had everything you could ever enjoy:  buddy cops, ancient vampires, and a war against the forces of evil.

The book opens when Danyeala Morrigan, a young vampire given vastly superior powers by one of the last original vampires, is in an epic battle with the Virgin Mary, yes, the Virgin Mary, mother of Christ.

When Danyeala tastes the blood of Mary, she gains new powers and soon after begins to develop a change of heart, leading her into contact with two Boston cops. One is detective Harry Blake, the other a rookie detective named Danny Mcardle. The two are investigating a homicide victim whose spine was ripped out of his body. Soon after detective Blake and Danyeala cross paths, Blake finds out that vampires are real and a group of vampire hunters run by the Vatican, joins the story.

I really enjoyed this novel, one of my favorite things was the interaction between Blake and Mcardle, one being the older grizzled cop and the other a light-hearted jokester.

The author does a great job of describing scenes in wonderful detail, like how Danyeala must decide whether to embrace her vampire nature fully, or piece her humanity back together and salvage whatever good she has left in her. If you are not afraid of hardcore violence, lots of cursing, and non-sex sexuality then I would recommend this novel to you.

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Jason Morrison is a first time reviewer for HorrorAddicts.net.

Book Review : The Pale White by Chad Lutzke

Review by Marie RavenSoul
Spoiler alert: Some details may be revealed.

The Pale White, by Chad Lutzke

The story is told by Stacia, a seventeen-year-old girl held captive by a degenerate named Doc. Beautiful to the eye, his house is like a Victorian mansion, but something sinister lurks behind closed doors- the sex trafficking of young girls. 

She is not alone. 

There is nine-year-old Kammie, who loves plants and draws flowers on everything. Since the horrible night that Doc took her innocence, she has never spoken a word. 

The toughest of all three of them is Alex. She dresses in leather, fishnets, and short black skirts, giving her a goth-punk appearance. She believes she is a vampire and avoids light, even when it means her freedom.

As punishment, Doc starves them. This last time it was because Alex bit a client. She decides that it is time to follow through with their plan, which will bring them the freedom that they have wanted for so long.  

When they can finally leave their prison, the girls realize that they will no longer be together. So, instead, they make sandwiches as they try to obtain a sense of normalcy. It is quickly taken from them when there is a knock at the door. 

What happens next is terrifying. It seems as if the violence surrounding the girls will never end.

Flashbacks of previous traumatic events reveal clues as to why they behave the way they do. Alex’s viciousness is justified, and the reader can’t help but feel empathy towards the girls for the abuse they endured.

My favourite character is Stacia. She is compassionate, despite the horrible things she has been through. Before she was taken, she lived with an alcoholic mother and her lowlife boyfriend, and she questions whether she should go home or start a new life elsewhere. 

I like how the author used description to create a twisted atmosphere and induce emotion, but more detail throughout the story would have made it more powerful. The subject matter of the book makes it difficult to read in places as it deals with rape, violence, and psychological torture.

The ending came as a shock. I thought it was abrupt and had some unresolved issues. I am hoping a sequel will follow.

If you are a fan of dark tales with a lot of twists and turns, The Pale White is a book that you will want to crack open on a cold, wintery night. 

Chad Lutzke is the author of numerous books including The Same Deep Water as You, Wallflower, and Skullface Boy. He has written for various magazines such as Cemetery Dance, Rue Morgue, and Scream, and he has contributed articles, reviews, and artwork to the music and film scene. He lives in Battle Creek, Michigan with his wife and children.


Marie RavenSoul is a freelance writer and is the owner of the website In Satan’s Honour- Satanism and Demon Worship. She is the author of ‘At Satan’s Altar- A Collection of Prayers, Chants, Affirmations, Hymns, and Rituals.’

She is currently studying Creative Writing at the University of Toronto. Her other interests include painting, reading, photography, haunted dolls, The Tarot, and music.

Book Review: The Night Weaver by Monique Snyman

Review by Stephanie Ellis

Rating: 4/ 5 stars

‘SHADOW GROVE IS A PERFECTLY PLEASANT TOWN …

Shadow Grove isn’t a typical town. Bad things happen here. Children disappear, one after the other, and nobody is doing anything about it. Parents don’t grieve, missing posters don’t line the streets, and the sheriff seems unconcerned.

Seventeen-year-old Rachel Cleary lives on the outskirts of Shadow Grove, next to the creepy forest everyone pretends doesn’t exist. Usually, the forest is filled with an eerie calm, an unmistakable graveyard solemnity. But the trees have started whispering, forgotten creatures are stirring, and the nights feel darker than ever.

Something is stalking the residents of Shadow Grove, changing them into brain-dead caricatures of themselves. It’s up to Rachel to stop the devouring of her hometown before all is destroyed and everyone she loves is forever lost.’

When the nights begin to draw in early, a spooky read is a must and The Night Weaver does not disappoint. The main character, Rachel, is a terrific role model for young female readers, someone who is different but is strong enough to go her own way and pretty much not care what the ‘popular’ crowd say or do. No stranger to loss with the death of her best friend some years before and then the loss of her father, she has become fiercely independent, although sadly much of this is due to the emotional distance that has grown between Rachel and her mother as a result of the latter’s difficulty in dealing with her grief.

Whilst the rest of the town is strangely reluctant to explore the forest, Rachel is convinced that is where the children have gone. With the support of her neighbour’s grandson, the two cross the border into the woods and experience the ‘other world’ of the Fae. As Rachel fights to rescue the children, she becomes involved both with a Fae prince and with the very human Greg Pearson. The pacing is good and whilst it discusses Rachel’s relationship with her mother and her own memories of her father, it does not become mawkish and allows the magic of the story to keep the pages turning.

As someone who tends to avoid books featuring the Fae (usually because the author has made them too ‘sparkly’ or twee for me), I found this was a hugely entertaining YA romp with Snyman keeping the balance between darkness and romance perfectly. As a secondary school librarian, this is a book that may yet find its way onto my workplace shelves.