Edgar Allan Poe holds multiple distinctions as a writer. First, he invented the detective story. Second, he was a superb poet and short-story writer. Lastly, he was the author of some of the most terrifyingly uncomfortable tales ever penned. This isn’t a bad record for someone who wrote of his writing before his premature death at the age of forty, ‘I have no reason to be ashamed’.

 This volume contains all the poetry and fiction, making it a great starting point for the reader to enjoy the sheer variety of Poe’s short and long works, and for the writer keen to study in depth the skills required to construct compelling horror, mystery and (occasionally) fantasy fiction.

 “The Mystery of Marie Roget”, “The Purloined Letter”, and “The Murders in the Rue Morgue” showcase many traits we would subsequently come to associate with the detective story. The arrogant genius, the amiable sidekick, and the pedestrian investigative skills of the police force were presented together for the first time. It was an intriguing combination that quickly became well established. As a result of Poe’s location choice, a lasting connection exists between Paris and the detective genre, something Agatha Christie cheerfully subverted in her Poirot Mysteries by making her Belgian detective perpetually mistaken for a Frenchman.

 The genius that was Poe’s detective fiction may have emerged spontaneously, but his fantasy and horror fiction (particularly the latter) grew out of an existing tradition in a more time-honoured way. The ‘rules’ of gothic fiction had been established, thoroughly explored, and (some might say) finally exhausted in the decades before Poe’s birth in 1809. However, he built upon these conventions to refresh the horror story by adding greater psychological penetration.

 “The Fall of the House of Usher” showcases many gothic horror features: an ancient family, a terrible home, secrets long husbanded. To this Poe added the inner dimension: an old friend arrives to witness the decline of Roderick Usher, funneling his inner response to the physical and moral environment in a manner more emotionally accessible to the reader than the focus on external action common in gothic horror.

 There’s also a lighter tone to this volume, presented through “The System of Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether”. Poe offers outright bloodthirstiness in stories such as “The Masque of the Red Death”, and psychological torment in “The Pit and the Pendulum”. The outright stories of humour can feel a little forced at times, but this collection ends strongly with “The Narrative of A Gordon Pym”.

5 out of 5 stars.

 Enjoy!

Amazon, amazon.co.uk, and Race Point Publishing

I’ve read Ruschelle Dillon’s dark fiction over the last couple of years, and enjoyed her often wacky, quirky take on tropes and the whole genre. Once or twice we’ve had our fiction published in the same anthology. Yes, she does reviews for the Horror Tree, and she also interviews writers.

So, having got that bit out of the way, and being above board about our writing acquaintanceship, I was more than happy to read her latest, this novella from indie American publisher, Black Bed Sheet Books.

The blurb was enticing: a family moves into a house, the oh-so-normal mum and dad, (Marc and Claire) and their two kids. They are hoping to build a more solid base in this old red brick with a basement than provided by their past string of short-term rentals. 

The story is told in shortish pacy chapters which crack along, and it’s heavy on dialogue. This is an accessible read, and one easy to get into.

Of course, the very first chapter which opens with the words, ‘I was born of bloodshed’, tips us off that all will not be a sunny walk in the park. There is something else, or someone else, sharing the house, living in the basement, whose history and evil heart are entwined with the foundation. And there is a lot of history, none of it good, attached to this particular house.

Familial relationships are evocatively and swiftly established. Olivia (Livy- the teen) is particularly likeable, shrewd, and feisty. She is the one who first realises something is not quite right about the shadows in the basement. Claire is a doting mum to Livy and three-year-old Jasper. Marc, though an absentee working-away dad, also seems a doting family man. Or is he?

Every few chapters, Dillon inserts a flashback, revealing another piece of The Stain’s history. The first time this happened it threw me off as it took me away from the current day narrative, but I quickly adjusted; the information gave perspective to what was lurking in the bowels of the house or, the ‘root cellar’ as Dillon called it. Never have I known anything good to happen in a fictional ‘root cellar’.

A third of the way in, there is a switch in the way we perceive the dad, Marc. The layers of his marriage to Claire deepen and darken. I won’t give away more than that, but it’s a fun ride.

Throw in the possible paedo neighbour who lurks on the sidelines, and uncle Travis—a work colleague who hangs around the family, and the human drama ramps up. Meanwhile, Livy becomes increasingly sucked into the web of tricks and games the inhabitant in the basement is playing.

There is a terrible tragedy which I didn’t see coming—it took my breath away. Dillon plays with our assumptions very effectively throughout the book. It certainly surprised me which way Dillon took the narrative.

The ending has a few more contortions to put the reader through before the final devastating paragraphs. 

This is an entertaining, fast read, which took me on a rollercoaster ride – a blend of horror and thriller with family drama. It’s rather different from Dillon’s previous fiction and not what I was expecting to read, but that’s not an issue, just a comment. 

The cover is pretty cool too.

4/5 stars.

Black Bed Sheet Books, amazon.co.uk, amazon.com.