Dark Arts Books / March 2008
Reviewed by: Vince A. Liaguno

Dark Arts Books is on a mission. That mission: to expose the horror masses to the many unsung literary voices that populate the genre. Following 2006’s Candy in the Dumpster, last year’s Waiting for October, and this year’s earlier Sins of the Sirens collections, Like a Chinese Tattoo is the innovative publisher’s latest conduit through which it intends to spread the good word. Like DAB’s previous collections, Tattoo features four very different voices – Cullen Bunn, Rick R. Reed, David Thomas Lord, and JA Konrath – and held loosely together by the nonspecific theme of “inscrutably twisted.” Indeed, several of the tales here preclude scrutiny by virtue of their sheer audaciousness.

Cullen Bunn kicks off the collection with the competent “Tomorrow, When Demons Come,” a story about lust and devotion, personified human emotions, and a particularly sinister Korean bathhouse where troubles and inhumanity are washed away for twenty dollars. “Remains” is a marvelous tale, at once chilling and heartbreaking, told from the POV of a teenage boy whose suspicions about the mysterious stranger who comes to work on his family’s farm come to tragic fruition. Bunn shows real talent here, capturing that period between adolescence and manhood with genuine authenticity. He deftly maneuvers between the horror and humanity of the story in a style reminiscent of early Stephen King (think It or “The Body”) and imbues the story with a deep emotional resonance that never detracts from the horror yet stays with the reader long after the last word. To follow the praiseworthy “Remains” with “Granny Kisses,” then, is like watching a double-bill of Stand by Me and American Pie. Crude and nasty, “Granny Kisses” is the literary equivalent of toilet humor taken to the unimaginable extreme – and this will be either high praise or scathing criticism depending on your own reading tastes. For this reviewer, the story detracts from Bunn’s obvious talent and comes off as a mere shock tactic. Herein lies both the beauty and Achilles’ heel of collections like this: showcase an author’s diversity and range at the peril of the reader walking away without a clear idea of the author’s true voice. Is Bunn a serious writer letting off some steam with “Granny Kisses” – or he is a literary shockmeister who had a fluke with “Remains”? Hard to tell, but I’m betting on the former with fingers tightly crossed.

Fortunately, I’m familiar with Rick Reed’s work because, again, his contributions here range from the ingenious to the inane. “Purfleet” is an inventive take on a horror staple that involves a wife on the run from a seemingly abusive husband who takes refuge in a psychiatric hospital. But all is not as it seems and Reed pulls out a whopper of a twist in the end that will leave Bram Stoker enthusiasts smiling from ear to ear. Likewise, “Moving Toward the Light” is a capable revenge tale first published in The Crow: Shattered Lives and Broken Dreams in 1998. Gritty and not for the faint-of-heart, Reed’s story of one young woman hitting rock bottom and the otherworldly forces that avenge her brutal rape and beating in order to build her up again is one of hope and redemption in the midst of hopelessness. Astute Reed fans will instantly recognize this as a sequel of sorts to his 1992 novel Penance (Dell), about a serial killer preying on child prostitutes on the streets of Chicago. Although Reed’s third contribution mines the same juvenile humor of Bunn’s “Granny Kisses,” there is at least a recognizable plot. “Stung” is part of the ongoing misadventures of a recurring character from Reed’s fictional stable named Amelia. Here readers find the overweight, socially awkward heroine joining a company getaway at her employer’s summer home. Joined by her nagging, shrewish mother, Amelia runs characteristically afoul of trouble – found here in the form of a wasp that stings her in the rectum. Ample bathroom gags abound, with flatulence and clogged bowels meeting KY jelly and a well-placed toilet plunger. You do the math.

If the first two author showcases leave you feeling a bit uneven, David Thomas Lord knows how to straddle the line between literary and lighthearted without losing his voice. He starts off strong with the previously published “The White Room,” a visual treat of color and monotony in which white takes center stage and reveals the true colors of madness. “The Great White Ape” is the standout story of the entire collection, and Lord crafts a remarkable tale of bait and switch…of spider luring the fly to its web… that has the timeless feel of a classic. Part travelogue, part period piece, “The Great White Ape” reads like an enthralling adventure epic, morality play, and cautionary tale all rolled into one – Gulliver’s Travels meets The African Queen meets At Play in the Fields of the Lord. Some underlying eroticism helps imbue the story with its constant sense of low-lying tension as Lord moves the story to its heartrending conclusion. “Da’s Boy” - Lord’s literary quickie here - wisely circumvents the bawdry humor of Bunn’s and Reed’s stories and opts for more gallows humor in this dialect-heavy tale of a tragic bond between grandson and grandfather.

Mystery scribe JA Konrath was an adventurous choice to round out the anthology’s quartet, and Dark Arts should be commended for such an inspired choice. The three Konrath stories included here are a fine introduction to an author who can pull off experimental (as in “The Confession” which is told entirely through dialogue), black comedy (as in “The Necro File,” a bold crime noir/horror parody that’s Scary Movie meets The Naked Gun), and deceptive (as in the seemingly straightforward torture/revenge tale “Punishment,” which kicks the legs out from under the table in the last paragraphs). Konrath demonstrates that irreverent humor need not be gratuitous to be effective, using the mundane events of everyday life as fodder for his sharp wit, as in this passage from “The Necro File”:

Next, I checked my email, where I discovered I’d won the Irish lottery, inherited eighty million dollars from an unknown relative, and was asked to shuffle funds into my bank account from the President of Rwanda. They all got my standard response: enthusiastic replies with an attachment supposedly containing my routing number. The attachment really contained an email bomb, which once opened would bombard their computers with tens of thousands of naked pictures of actress Bea Arthur. I called it the Maude Virus.

Bill Breedlove waxes nostalgic in his introduction to Like a Chinese Tattoo about discovering Alfred Hitchcock’s Monster Museum in the library as a kid and the hunger that collection set off for him, satiated only by devouring other like tomes. Along the way, he was introduced to the voices that would gradually form his own primary literary interests. He uses this formidable childhood experience to espouse the virtues of the anthology format, making the case that for a limited commitment in terms of time, money, and patience, the rewards to readers are immense. His point is well-taken with Like a Chinese Tattoo. With superb standouts like David Thomas Lord’s “The Great White Ape” and Cullen Bunn’s “Remains” overshadowing the few questionable misfires here, Tattoo yields large returns for those willing to invest a little patience. Like literary tapas, the stories in Like a Chinese Tattoo offer a small taste of some big talent. Another noteworthy addition to the impressive (and growing) Dark Arts catalog.

Purchase Like a Chinese Tattoo with stories by Cullen Bunn, Rick R. Reed, David Thomas Lord, and JA Konrath.

Brimstone Press / December 2007
Reviewed by: Martel Sardina

Attention chain bookstore purchasing agents and librarians –there is more to the horror genre than best sellers like Barker, Koontz and King. (Nothing against the aforementioned authors - after all, without them the genre would go almost completely unrecognized.) However, if the people responsible for bringing fine horror fiction to the masses don’t know where to look beyond the heavy hitters, Editor Angela Challis has given them a fine place to start.

The 2007 edition of Australian Dark Fantasy & Horror is a reprint anthology featuring eighteen of the best stories the land down under has to offer. The anthology’s introduction summarizes publishing activity in Australian markets in 2006. The first story, “Cheat Light” by Terry Dowling begins when a man seeks the help of a lighting expert to determine how the images on a roll of film found in a secondhand camera were captured. The lighting expert is intrigued by the photos and joins the man in his quest. Further research leads to the opportunity to try and recreate the effect captured on film and the discovery of a forgotten evil.

Steven Cavanagh paints a heart-breaking portrait of a father’s loss in “Finding the Words.”

Robert Hood’s opening line to “In the Service of the Flesh” immediately captures the reader’s attention, setting the stage for a humorous journey as seen through the eyes of a zombie evangelist.

Three stories stand out as this reviewer’s favorites. “Surrender 1: Rope Artist” by Deborah Biancotti explores the darker side of BDSM and rope bondage. Kirstyn McDermott proves that revenge is a dish best served “Cold.” “The Red Priest Vigil” is the second story in Dirk Flinthart’s “Red Priest” series and chronicles the adventures of Tomasso Dellaforte during the Holy Inquisition. It is the follow up to “The Red Priest’s Homecoming” which was featured in ADFH’s 2006 Edition.

Those who like gangsters should find an enjoyable read in David Witteveen’s “Ache.” Who knew there was a way to give the American gangster a Lovecraftian spin?

The only story suffering from a technical glitch is “Hieronymus Boche” by Chris Lawson. This tale is rendered in the format of a soldier’s letter to his parents back home, but the problem lies in how the story was recorded. The author tells the reader at the outset that paper is scarce and that the soldier is writing in the margins of a prayer book. While the story itself is compelling, the mode of transmission seems unlikely given the setup.

The anthology closes with “Father Father,” a story that is bound to draw strong love/hate reactions. Paul Haines’s character Michael and his wife, Elise, want to become parents. The reader meets Michael on the day that he is to provide a specimen to be used in a fertility treatment. In order to provide the highest quality specimen, Michael must abstain from sex for several days - a process that is taking its toll on his sanity. Abstaining makes him cranky and brings thoughts that he could otherwise control to the forefront of his mind. The reader gets to know Michael, perhaps in ways that they might wish that they hadn’t especially by story’s end.

Australian Dark Fantasy & Horror’s 2007 Edition is a must-read anthology for horror writers and fans alike. The editorial commentary on Australian fiction markets at the beginning and the links section at the end provides valuable information for writers. The stories - while being purely enjoyable on a reader level - also provide writers with valuable insights on how to craft tales that can and should be remembered well into the future. And for those who have never gone beyond the name authors in this genre, now is the time to spread your wings.

Purchase Australian Dark Fantasy & Horror (2007 Edition) edited by Angela Challis.

Dark Arts Books / January 2008
Reviewed by: Derek Clendening

Four literary mistresses of the night, teamed up for one book, can be an alluring and dangerous proposition, as editor John Everson notes in his introduction to Sins of the Sirens. Taking a unique approach to the multi-author anthology format by featuring only a quartet of voices, Sins offers up fourteen stories by Loren Rhoads, Maria Alexander, Mehitobel Wilson, and Christa Faust – the four ‘sirens’ chosen to lure the reader into some dark and sinister territory. The overall theme is akin to Jeff Gelb and Michael Garrett’s Hot Blood series, but Sirens packs a much stiffer punch. Everson’s anthology certainly succeeds in its goal to offer sensual terror from an all-female perspective.

Loren Rhoads’ “The Angel’s Lair” sets the stage for the recurring theme of female empowerment in this tale of female sexual dominance over her male counterpart. Comparable themes are ever-present throughout her other tales - and throughout the anthology in general.

Although there is not a single story in the anthology that is not well-written, Mehitobel Wilson stands out as the most powerful voice here, with her contribution “Parting Jane” offering perhaps a more literary approach than any other story in the collection. Told through the unique perspective of an ill, nine-year-old girl, “Parting Jane” offers a significant departure in tone in a collection that suffers at times from recycled themes carried from one story to another.

Perhaps the thematic ties in Sins of the Sirens bind too tightly. Indeed, the anthology’s flaws seem rooted in its lack of variety. Although Wilson’s “Parting Jane” adds a much needed change of pace to the anthology’s recurring themes of sexual dominance, sadomasochism, fetishes, and drugs, the tale does not appear until three quarters into the book. Yet despite this thematic repetition, readers will likely find the stories compelling and exceptionally readable.

Overall, Sins of the Sirens is a worthy anthology that acquaints readers with four notable genre voices. It’s yet another solid addition to the growing catalog of Dark Arts Books and a fine example of the positive contributions of the horror small press. Sins’ subject matter is a perfect fit for the small press, and Everson does an excellent job catering to the specific tastes of those who like their horror on the sensual side - with just a hint of the nasty.

Purchase Sins of the Sirens, edited by John Everson.

Dark Arts Books / April 2007
Reviewed by: Vince A. Liaguno

In his uneven introduction to Waiting for October, editor Bill Breedlove pledges that this anthology from promising new small press publisher Dark Arts Books doesn’t boast any of the usual horror suspects and, instead, offers up “very disturbing tales that showcase the full range of what constitutes a horror story.” While this reviewer isn’t sure that the twelve stories here – three each from authors Jeff Strand, Adam Pepper, Sarah Pinborough, and Jeffrey Thomas, respectively – show the genre’s all-encompassing range, Breedlove hits the mark with his “disturbing” description.

Jeff Strand’s humor-tinged horror brand is a fitting kickoff for an anthology promising oddity, and one wonders if the author writes with his tongue literally planted in cheek. Up first is the squirm-inducing “Gramma’s Corpse”, in which Strand offers up a twisted and downright ghoulish variation on the idea of parental discipline. This one comes complete with a deliciously macabre Creepshow-style ending. An elderly widower declares war on the neighborhood trick-or-treating army in the Halloween-themed “Bad Candy House”, in which Strand shows the darker lengths people will go when pushed just far enough. In his third offering, Strand uses a variation on the first-person POV to tell the story of a bizarre diner massacre that may or may not have actually occurred in the appropriately-titled “Here’s What Happened…” The attention deficit disorder-like, one-sided conversation device could play gimmicky elsewhere, but the edgy narrative perspective seems especially well-suited for Strand’s unique brand of storytelling here.

Unlike the better known Strand, with whom one knows what they’re getting, Adam Pepper is an exercise in dichotomy. “The Admirer” starts off his trio of contributions weakly, with a baffling two and a half-page story of obsession populated by personified inanimate objects – including a tree, a trash can, and a window - and sixteen exclamation points (!). Unfavorable first impressions aside, Pepper comes through commendably with the strongest offering of the entire anthology with “Buried a Man I Hated There”, in which a grieving father makes an annual pilgrimage to the site of his family’s death. Subtle, beautifully layered, and written in shades of melancholy, “Buried” is a remarkable achievement in short fiction and haunts long after the last word. In “Old Maid Syndrome”, Pepper admirably tackles a female POV with mixed results. While at times spot-on with his female characters (as at the beginning of the story when two longtime BFF’s are having a phone conversation about a third friend’s impending marriage), Pepper misfires at other times like when his adult first-person narrator has this schoolgirl-ish observation when meeting a potential suitor for the first time:

Emmanuel extended his hand and when I touched it, I think I melted. He was so warm and firm, yet gentle at the same time. He kissed the top of my palm lightly, without puckering or leaving an wetness. Me on the other hand felt moisture between my legs and under my arms instantly.

Ultimately, Pepper’s twisted tale of organ thievery suffers when his solid set-up deteriorates into a raunchy, one-note ending. Placement of a story in an anthology is key, and Pepper would have been better served had Breedlove saved the far superior “Buried” for last.

The UK’s Sarah Pinborough brings her own sense of the peculiar to her triple play, proving that she can ably match the weird quotient of her male counterparts. “Express Delivery”, a cautionary cloning tale meets The Sopranos, is a story of debt repayment and second (and third) chances infused with an insightful commentary on the dangers when escapism tips the scales of reality. In “The Fear”, Pinborough confronts the insecurities of writers and explores the career polarities between selling out and vision when an alcoholic writer finds himself caught in a looping reality with the devil. With its decidedly 1408 vibe, Pinborough ably demonstrates that good things can sometimes come in the smallest of packages – here in about 4 ½ pages. Pinborough next channels her inner Brian Keene in “Crystal Carla”, a gory, meth-fueled zombie yarn. Tables are turned on a drug dealer in this mosquito-swatting swampland tale of one junkie’s ultimate revenge from beyond the grave. Guaranteed to raise the squirm quotient exponentially.

Jeffrey Thomas closes the collection strongly with three of the most inventive offerings. In “The Hosts”, children are overcome by thought and behavior-controlling parasites. What first appears to be an effective Village of the Damned meets The Puppet Masters/Night of the Creeps hybrid, however, soon turns out to be a poignant and perceptive observation on the resiliency of parents coping with special needs children. “Adoration”, another standout in the collection, is the genuinely creepy tale of an undead celebrity brothel in which clients with the means can have the night of their dreams with the likes of Marilyn Monroe and Grace Kelly. No one is off limits or unattainable in this dilapidated zombie-esque bordello deep in the woods – even James Dean and Elvis Presley are willing switch hitters in death. “Star Est Control” visits a futuristic world in which even affordable housing comes at a price – namely haunting advertising screens on every inch of available wall space. It’s an interesting surrealistic oddity of a story – one fitting to bring the collection to its close.

Playing more at times like exercises in surrealism than straight-forward horror, Waiting for October is meant to embody the literary equivalent of “the quaint sampler candy box” and offers readers a nibble of the work of an assortment of dark scribes. Like a Whitman’s sampler, it’s an experiment with mixed results – some nut clusters (Strand), the occasional cherry cordial that offsets too many vanilla butter creams (Pepper), some pleasing truffles (Pinborough), and some gourmet Belgium chocolates (Thomas). On the strength of Pepper’s “Buried a Man I Hated There” and Thomas’ “Adoration” alone, Waiting for October is worth a few post-holiday calories.

Purchase Waiting for October, edited by Bill Breedlove.

Haunted Pelican Press / November 2007
Reviewed by: Blu Gilliand

It’s a great idea for an anthology: take four established genre authors plus one relative newcomer, let them pick whatever individual theme they would like to write about, give them a word count and turn them loose. One story, five stories – it’s up the author. Such are the ground rules for Five Strokes to Midnight, the first publication from Haunted Pelican Press, and while the individual results are mixed, the overall package is a success.

Tom Piccirilli opens the book with two stories on the subject of loss: “Loss” and “Bereavement.” The latter is a devastating meditation on coping with the grief of losing someone you love, and how the ways we cope affect those around us. As is usual with his work, Piccirilli leads you almost to the end of the path before you realize you are going somewhere completely different than where you first thought. It’s a touching and powerful tale, and the one my thoughts kept returning to after the book was done.

Equally powerful is the middle story of Gary Braunbeck’s trio on hauntings, “The Queen of Talley’s Corner.” This simple tale of a lonely woman haunted by her one great love sums up much about the power the past holds over us. Despite her current circumstances, the story’s “Queen,” Miss Hattie, lives each night as she did in her heyday – strolling the streets resplendent in her finest, a woman proud and in love with the man at her side. Braunbeck’s affecting prose puts you right there with them, right up through the inevitable end.

Deborah LeBlanc follows with two stories about curses. “White-Hot” and “Bottom Feeder” are both straightforward cautionary tales of voodoo, black magic, and the consequences of dabbling in such. However, while the plots may not be the most original, these stories are distinguished by LeBlanc’s captivating narrative style. The characters, language and scene-setting are so lively and natural that the pages practically sweat. These two stories were my first taste of the author’s work, but they certainly won’t be the last.

Hank Schwaeble, who co-edited the book with Braunbeck, is up next. Schwaeble is the new voice among the veterans, a fact that is unfortunately underlined after following such a magnificent trio. His stories, each of which follow the theme of demons, are not bad – they just don’t quite stack up to the company he’s keeping here. There are definite signs of promise, particularly with the bizarre “Bone Daddy,” but the other selections in the book simply overpower him.

The book gets back on track with Christopher Golden, who gives us three stories touching on the traditions of folklore. Golden captures the theme perfectly with his tales of legends and ghosts. His (and the book’s) final piece, “All Aboard,” serves as the perfect bookend, touching on the theme of loss that opens the collection. This story of parents dealing with the ultimate tragedy features a final line of dialogue that nearly brought me to tears with its power.

All in all, Five Strokes to Midnight is an excellent collection. With powerful stories by five extremely talented authors, and companion art pieces by Ashley Laurence (best known for her role in the film Hellraiser), this is a worthy addition to the shelves of anyone who appreciates good, thought-provoking writing.

Purchase Five Strokes to Midnight, edited by Gary A. Braunbeck and Hank Schwaeble

Woodland Press LLC / October 2007
Reviewed by Martel Sardina

Genre anthologies are a tough nut to crack. Readers are typically drawn in by the big name authors and expect those to be the only “good” stories in the collection. The bar is set high when names like Monteleone, Waggoner, Nassise and Burke appear on the list of contributors. It is rare to find an anthology where every story in the collection is not only well-written, but also compelling. Legends of the Mountain State is one of the rare cases where every story delivers on both counts.

The collection opens with Tom Monteleone’s “Images in Anthracite.” Our hero, Cort Fallon, lost his father at the age of ten due to an accident in the Pickman Mine. Years later, he receives a strange letter from a man who claims Cort’s childhood home is haunted by the ghost of Cort’s father. After much debate with his friend, Kevin, the two decide to investigate the man’s claims and find the ghost’s reappearance may be connected to General Energy’s plan to re-open the Pickman Mine. Now that Cort has learned more about his father’s accident and General Energy’s plans, what can he do to stop them?

What happens when a detective can’t solve a case in time to save lives? In “How The Night Receives Them,” Kealan Patrick Burke’s detective has been dubbed “The Poet” due to writing a poem about a case that continues to plague him despite the fact the killer is being brought to justice. Burke paints a gut-wrenching portrait of a man consumed by regret.

Editor Michael Knost must have known that for every good detective story there should be a story of equal merit examining the other side of the law. In Legends of the Mountain State, we are given a couple of different glimpses into how the bad guys live. Joseph Nassise’s hit man in “Money Well-Earned” is hired to kill a monster, the legendary Mothman. When he learns that the Mothman’s touch brings warnings of future evils, he must decide who the real monster is. Bev Vincent plays a game of smoke and mirrors using the legend of “Screaming Jenny” to cover up a crime.

West Virginia as a setting is rich with the necessary elements for weaving ghostly tales. Coal mines, remote farms, and winding mountain roads in small towns combined with people who believe the lore makes for a fantastic backdrop for the collection’s adventures to unfold. Those who are unfamiliar with West Virginia may come away from reading this collection wondering which of our states can really call themselves the “most haunted.” West Virginia may now be a contender for that title.

Purchase Legends of the Mountain State, edited by Michael Knost.

Permuted Press / December 2007
Reviewed by: Michele Lee

Skillfully edited by the Stoker-winning Paffenroth, this anthology of the undead starts out strong with the hair-raising "This Reluctant Prometheus" by David Dunwood. Not content to merely tell the clever story of a caveman-era zombie horde, “Prometheus” opens with a shambling undead mammoth and the prehistoric meal that sours Cro-Magnon man into perversions of nature. Dunwood's story is a success not only because he inventively sets zombies in a new era, but because he explores the nature of these beasts, adding a new level to an already terrifying machine in the process. Thoroughly creepy throughout, Dunwood also adds a last kick to keep the horror going.

"The Gingerbread Man" by Paula R. Stiles is a very interesting take on zombie mythos. Here the beast isn't of the mobile dead, flesh-eating creature variety, but rather a god who’s bound to his body and trapped eternally by small deaths that force him to watch over the land. Much like a zombie starts human and turns into a hungry, undead thing, so too does this god start out a peaceful creature only to end with an insatiable thirst for blood. Stories like Stiles’ will easily sustain the zombie sub-genre while simultaneously taking it to new places.

What sets "The Barrow Maid" by Christine Morgan apart from the more common undead warriors-going-into-battle stories is the depth in which it captures the people and setting of its time. Fairy tale-like in its narrative structure, “Maid” is a war story centering on Sveinthor the Unkillable. And while the name alone might tip readers off to the storyline, especially in the context of the anthology’s theme, this tale of a great warrior, betrayed and slain, is interwoven with Viking traditions and culture which really brings the ancient warriors to life.

"Harimoto" by Scott A. Johnson is a Japanese inspired tale where a driven ronin, or masterless samurai, finds that the zombie-like jikininki, or man-eating ghosts, he has vowed to slay to restore his honor aren't all they seem to be. Their leader, Kama, holds the secret to the crowd gathering at a fouled temple. While “Harimoto” presents an interesting variation on zombies, most of the actual story is explained from one character to another rather than discovered by the reader, thus rendering a resolution that isn't as strong or satisfying as it could be.

"The Moribund Room" by Carol Lanham is set in Tudor-era England and stars Ridley, a deaf-mute boy who is set-up to be victim in a king’s political maneuverings and ends up falling for the future queen. Complicating matters, Ridley is also assistant to the king's barber/surgeon, also his uncle, and privy to the strange Dr. Frankenstein-like experiments his surgeon uncle has been performing in secret. Using his knowledge of the body and the science his uncle has taught him, Ridley hatches a plan to save the woman he loves, even if it means she has to die to be with him. More a twisted tale of love than a zombie story, Lanham’s entry succeeds in bringing the undead to yet another interesting era in human history.

"Theatre is Dead" by Raoul Wainscoting is an absolutely hilarious tale of a doomed stage play that occurs when old England is besieged by both the walking dead and one William Shakespeare, who possesses a good dose of an artist's grandiose ego. When the community-minded Shakespeare writes a play to educate the common man about the disposal and prevention of "postvitals" (Shakespeare-speak for zombies), he never suspects that one of his actors isn't just suffering from stage fright but rather from an infectious bite. Even when it become obvious, it takes the Great Baird two acts and quite a few actors before he admits there might really be a problem. Unwilling to let the show falter, Shakespeare and his postvitals expert take to the stage themselves for a spectacularly bloody Shakespearian ending. Sure to be one of the most remembered stories of this anthology, this ghastly comedic gem is true to a Shakespearian play - entertaining, darkly humorous, and lethal for the characters.

Jenny Ashford's "The Anatomy Lesson" holds a surprising bit of soul at its center with its tale of the corpse of Aris Kindt, a man hanged then dissected by the local doctors of Amsterdam. Aris' father first travels far to recover his son's body, then brings it back to a woman, who for a few coins raises it in order for Aris to seek revenge on the people who wrongly accused and hanged him. But the sad, soulful ending shows that the corpse doesn't walk for vengeance alone. Ashford adds remarkable human spirit to this undead tale set against the historical backdrop of Rembrandt’s famous 1632 painting , Anatomy Lesson of Professor Nicolaes Tulp .

In "A Touch of the Divine" by Patrick Rutigliano, we jump to the time of the Black Plague, during which a greedy ruler has lured a strangely immune monk named Stephen to a city where the plague has mutated, causing the dead to walk the streets. While the guards surrounding the city are happy to let him in, they neglect to tell him that the rulers have ordered that no one is to leave and have gone to great lengths to lure people into the town to make sure the fields are farmed and the shops manned. But while Stephen might be a monk, he is not servant of the rich and entitled, instead a patron of the common man – or patron of the common dead man, as the case here may be. He was brought into the city to restore hope to the villagers, and so he decides to do just that, in the most effective way possible. It’s likely that the reader won't know whether to cheer for the zombies or not.

Plague-ridden London is also the setting for Linda L. Donahue’s "A Cure for All Ills", the tale of a plague doctor who brazenly confronts Death on the dark streets and is cursed to see for himself why death is a mercy. Ripe with authenticity from the well-researched plaque details to the accurate feel of the protagonist’s medical profession, the story's only flaw is that the reader figures out what is happening quicker than the main character himself, causing the reader to lose investment in the protagonist’s plight early on.

The prim and proper literary stylings of "Society and Sickness" by Leila Eadie may be off-putting to some readers, as might the cloying obsession the parent characters have with marrying their daughters off. But after their town is infected with a zombie disease, and the Adler family escapes a social event interrupted by an attack, the forethought by the Adler's oldest daughter and the practicality of how it is revealed will make up for any lost ground. Another humor-infused zombie tale, “Society” proves that not even imminent death from gnashing undead teeth can save children from their plotting parents.

"Summer of 1816" by James Roy Daley tells a fictional account of the famed writer Mary Shelley, and how one stormy night when she slipped out of the castle she was staying in, she found her inspiration not on the banks of storm-tossed lake as legend would have it, but rather in the basement of a mausoleum. In Daley’s compelling tale, that inspiration came to her courtesy of a fictional grave keeper who, unable to bury his wards in the torrential rains, instead improvises by chaining them in the basement (lest they wander away...cue the ominous music and thunderclaps). Another tale steeped in historical fiction, here there are no last minute rescues from the wandering dead, no bites or festering wounds, just inspiration and fuel for Shelley’s immortal tale.

"The Hell Soldiers" by Juleigh Howard-Hobson is the story of Stampley, a Confederate soldier who, along with the haggard remains of his division, witnesses a tidal wave-like clash between undead Union and Confederate soldiers. This tale is graphic, and while it doesn't try to explain the existence of zombies, it goes instead for tension and terror and an abrupt ending that makes no suggestions as to who survives, if anyone.

Rebecca Brock's "Junebug" is a post-Civil War tale set in a secluded bit of Tennessee. The titular character is the oldest daughter of devoutly Christian parents who are convinced they are witnessing the end of days; the zombies wandering around outside do nothing to help with their illusions. The danger to June comes not by way of hungry zombie hordes, though, but rather in the form of a nefarious local preacher, who through deception and manipulation ends up getting her pregnant. June is blamed for her moral lapse and must endure her family's abuse and hatred until it spins past mistreatment and into outright murder. "Junebug" capably switches back and forth between the present and past through the use of flashbacks, never once losing the tension Brock successfully creates in each preceding segment.

"Starvation Army" by Joe McKinney is almost more of a ghost story than a zombie story. Nettle, an American man with a bleeding heart who seems to think he can save all of London from starvation and poverty, takes a job at one of the city's first homeless shelters. There he finds an overwhelming number of vacant-eyed starving people, all with outstretched hands begging for his help. When he realizes he can't save them all, he chooses one who he believes to be a deserving underdog, a man hated by the other street people. But Nettle learns soon enough that some people can’t (and shouldn’t) be saved, and that some are hated by others for very good reason. Competently written, but not terribly remarkable in execution or concept, this story isn't as tight as others in the collection. McKinney’s richly detailed depictions of a poor London stand out.

Jonathan Maberry's "Pegleg and Paddy Save the World" is a humorous tale that gives an alternate account of the Great Chicago fire of 1871, in which a zombie, and not Mrs. O’Leary’s mythical cow, starts the famous conflagration. Unlike other stories in which zombie origins are attributed to vague diseases or curses, the cause of the zombie infestation in “Pegleg and Paddy” is directly attributed to a burning green comet that crashes to Earth, killing and then reanimating Paddy O' Leary's horrid old Aunt Sophie. Once Paddy and his friend Pegleg get over their surprise and shock over seeing Aunt Sophie eating the famed O'Leary cow, they start to plot ways to use this tragedy to better their lives. Although Paddy admits to himself later in the story that his ideas sounded better in his head, readers will be delighted. An amusing tale after a streak of gloomy ones, Mayberry's contribution is a lighthearted and welcome reprieve in the anthology.

Set in the old American West, "The Third Option" by Derek Gunn starts off with an amusing premise as well but proves by story’s end to be anything but humorous. An angry Indian shaman has cursed the white man, declaring that the dead shall walk and take that which the white man craves most. Except in the old west, the white man placed higher value on gold than his own life. “Option” packs a surprising punch of political seriousness when an undead Texas Ranger, who legally still has the right to kill anyone based on his own judgment, shows up in town where the mayor is about to decide if the dead still have rights or not. The local lawman, Carter, foresees an extreme flip in the town’s cultural balance, a future where the mayor is undead, the majority is undead, and the living find themselves the oppressed minority. Chilling in its connotations to the current immigration debate in this country, Gunn's story is a bonafide standout in the anthology.

"The Loaned Ranger" by John Peel is also western-themed, opening with the vicious ambush and slaughter of six Texas Rangers. Whether for revenge or self-preservation, a token Indian raises one of the dead rangers, pointing him back in the direction of his killers in a dark, bloody parody of The Lone Ranger. Fans of the old show will likely get a few kicks out of this zombie rendition of the classic TV show.

"Awake in the Abyss" by Rick Moore is the Jack the Ripper story in the bunch. While many may find themselves drawn in by the always-fascinating subject matter, there's not much substance in this tale of Ripper victims rising again to stomp the streets in search of their killer. The story opens with one of the victims witnessing her own death; but rather than recounting it for the reader, she prattles on about it in a hackneyed tone meant to convey the period setting. It’s a miscalculated point of view character certain to irritate some readers. Somehow the victims’ spirits come into contact with each other and essentially will their way into life as the risen dead, knowing just where to find their killer. The gore is here for gore hounds, but the characters - especially Jack himself - are paper thin and rather uninteresting. The mindless internal ramblings of the protagonist and short page time of the famed serial killer are most disappointing as so much could have been done with this premise. Ultimately, there's not much soul to the story, which is disappointingly exactly what it seems to need.

"The Travellin' Show" by Douglas Hutcheson detours from the standard zombie invasion fare. In this one, the zombies are part of a traveling sideshow, led by the good Reverend Tool who possesses the power to raise the dead. Although the sad little Texas town they've stopped at has asked the carnies to leave with its unholy zombie act in tow, a small group of the townsfolk kidnap Reverend Tool and attempt to force him to raise the victims of a recent mining accident so they can return to their families. The zombies here, human and animal varieties alike, are exactly what legend says they should be. What sets Hutcheson’s story apart is the feeling of melancholy that permeates the story, a prevailing sadness that stems from the townspeople’s desperation to have those who have died tragically back. Think Pet Sematary here versus Romero movies.

Wrapping up the anthology is "Edison's Dead Men" by Ed Turner, a tale of the famed titular inventor who, as the story opens, has gotten his hands on a few reanimated corpses. Possessing a wicked bite of dark humor, this story is a perfect ending point, focusing on the origins of modern technologies, the promise of what they might become from that point forward, and the machinations of the mind that made them. This story leaves the anthology musing toward the future - our present - and almost promising that the undead will be threaded as tightly into our lives as they have been woven into the stories of this anthology.

Even readers who don't consider themselves zombie fans will find something to like within the pages of History is Dead. The only criticism of the anthology is that most of the entries are American and UK-set tales, giving the collection as a whole limited scope. One is left pondering the results had a few of the stories contained within depicted more exotic locales - South America, Africa, Eastern Europe, maybe even ancient Greece. Some zombie globetrotting might have given the anthology a more large-scale feel to this living dead invasion. But perhaps it just gives readers something to hunger for should word of a second volume be forthcoming in the foreseeable future.

Purchase History is Dead: A Zombie Anthology, edited by Kim Paffenroth.