Tag: horror

Review: Lovely by Rin Sangar

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

Synopsis:

Heather Strand is seventeen years old and wants nothing more than to escape the small town she was born and raised in, until she learns there is something far more sinister at play in her life. A gothic horror set in the bible belt of the American south, LOVELY is filled with fear and teenage life, creating both a coming-of-age story and a late-night creature feature.

Favorite Lines:

“Tomorrow morning, a child’s dead body will rise up from the depths of the lake, pale and bloated. Tomorrow afternoon, a city cab will carry Heather Strand back into town after a three month absence. Tomorrow everything would change – but for tonight, there was a moment of blissful ignorance hanging in the air.”

“It was still out there, too still. The woods waited.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

There’s something off about Lovely from the very first page, and it doesn’t try to hide it. The opening feels calm, almost pretty, with this quiet small-town evening settling in. But then it immediately undercuts itself with that line about a child’s body rising from the lake the next day. That contrast sets the tone for everything that follows. It’s not trying to scare you in big, dramatic ways. It’s more about that slow realization that something is deeply wrong here.

Heather is not an easy character to like, but she is very easy to believe. She comes back to town already cracked open, carrying something heavy from wherever she’s been, and the story doesn’t rush to explain it. The way she moves through the world feels numb and sharp at the same time. Her relationship with Tyler adds another layer that feels messy in a very human way. It’s not romantic in a clean or comforting sense. It’s complicated, sometimes uncomfortable, and that fits the tone of the book really well.

What stood out to me most is how the town itself feels like the main character. Lovely isn’t just a setting. It feels aware, like it’s watching everything happen. The interwoven stories from different time periods build this sense that whatever is happening has been happening for a long time. The archivist discovering patterns in old deaths, the summer camp massacre, the stories about people who pass through and don’t make it out. None of these are thrown in randomly. They stack on top of each other until it starts to feel less like coincidence and more like a system.

The writing leans heavily on atmosphere, and it works. There are a lot of quiet moments that stretch just long enough to feel uncomfortable. The woods, the lake, even the empty streets all carry this weight to them. There’s also this recurring idea that something is mimicking people, blending in just well enough to go unnoticed. That concept sticks in the back of your mind and makes everything else feel more unsettling.

The pacing is interesting. It jumps between present day and different points in the past, which can feel a little disjointed at first, but it starts to click once you realize each piece is adding to the same pattern. It’s less about following a straight plot and more about slowly uncovering what this place is capable of. By the time Heather and Tyler start digging into Max’s death, it doesn’t feel like an isolated event anymore. It feels like they’ve stepped into something much bigger than either of them understands.

This isn’t a clean mystery where everything gets tied up neatly. It leans more into unease than answers. You’re not just asking what happened. You’re asking what kind of place this is, and whether it was ever safe to begin with.

Summary:

Overall, this was a slow-burning, atmospheric horror set in a small town that feels alive in all the wrong ways. It’s less about solving a single mystery and more about uncovering what the town itself might be hiding. Best for readers who like eerie, layered stories with multiple timelines and a lingering sense of unease rather than fast-paced horror. Happy reading!

Check out Lovely here!

 

Review: While Rome Burnz by Michael Stewart Hansen

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Synopsis:

In a world ravaged by a zombie virus, President Abraham Price sees not catastrophe but opportunity—a chance to expand American power and fill U.S. coffers while other nations collapse into chaos. As the infection spreads across continents and his military wages a ruthless campaign from Afghanistan to the borders of China, Price dismisses warnings from his own Cabinet about nuclear retaliation and the deteriorating situation at home. While Vice President Ariel Perez and Secretary of Homeland Security Elias Rogers desperately plead for resources to protect American citizens from the encroaching hordes, Price remains fixated on his geopolitical chess game—even as Washington D.C. itself falls to the infected. From the White House war room to a struggling gun store where ordinary Americans like John scramble to protect their families, While Rome Burnz reveals a nation torn between a leader’s megalomaniacal ambitions and the brutal reality of survival, where the greatest threat may not be the shambling dead, but the living who refuse to see the fire consuming everything around them.

Favorite Lines:

“Everyone wants to point fingers…The truth is uglier and far more terrifying.””

“She was holding them together through sheer force of will, maintaining the routines and rituals that kept them human, that reminded them they were more than just survivors scrambling through wreckage.”

“The memory was a wound that never closed.”

“He turned to face his chief directly; his expression carried a determination that came from some deep place of need and love that transcended duty or mission or survival calculations.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

This book drops you straight into chaos—and I mean immediately. There’s no slow build, no easing into the world. From the first few pages, you’re thrown into a full-scale collapse scenario where society doesn’t just crack… it basically implodes overnight.

What I liked most is how big this story feels. It’s not just one group of survivors trying to make it—it’s global. You’re seeing the outbreak from multiple angles: government breakdown, military operations, families trying to get out before it’s too late, and even underground broadcasts trying to make sense of it all. It almost reads like a mix between a thriller and a documentary of the end of the world.

The zombie concept itself isn’t reinvented, but the execution feels more grounded and brutal than a lot of others in the genre. The idea that everyone is already infected and only turns after death makes everything feel more inevitable—and honestly more unsettling. It’s not about avoiding infection, it’s about delaying the inevitable as long as possible. That alone adds a layer of tension that carries through the whole book.

I also appreciated how much attention is given to the human side of things. The scenes with John and his family stood out to me the most. They feel real in a way that a lot of apocalypse stories don’t always hit—worrying about bills, kids, whether to leave, what’s actually safe. It’s not just action, it’s that quiet dread of realizing your normal life is slipping away piece by piece.

That said, the pacing and writing style can feel a bit heavy at times. There’s a lot of detail—especially in the military and political sections—which makes the world feel expansive, but can also slow things down. It reads almost like you’re being briefed on the end of the world rather than just experiencing it. Some people will love that level of detail, others might find themselves skimming a bit.

This feels like the start of a much larger story. It’s less about resolution and more about setting the stage—showing just how bad things are going to get. If you like apocalyptic stories that go big and don’t hold back, this one definitely delivers.

Summary:

Overall, this is a large-scale apocalypse story that throws you straight into the collapse of the world, blending global chaos with smaller, personal survival moments. It’s heavy on detail and world-building, which makes it feel realistic and immersive, though sometimes a bit dense. It’s a strong start to a series that focuses less on action alone and more on the overwhelming scope of everything falling apart—and what that actually feels like to live through. Happy reading!

Check out While Rome Burnz here!

 

Review: Portraits of Decay by J.R. Blanes

~ likelystory18 ~ 2 Comments

Synopsis:

Up-and-coming young artist Jefferson Fontenot has everything going for him: The hot New Orleans art scene has noticed him, and he’s finally found his true love, Nevaeh Parker. But Fontenot’s bright future hides a darkness known as Gemma Landry— the artist’s lover and art scene influencer. Gemma believes Jefferson’s talent holds the key to her seizing control of the popular Carondelet Street Gallery. But when Gemma discovers Jefferson’s infidelity, she enslaves the artist with a poison she acquired from swamp-dwelling witch Mirlande St. Pierre.

Now trapped in a rotting body and plagued by hellish visions, Jefferson finds himself reduced to a zombie-like servant for his unhinged ex, while Nevaeh is forced to embrace her past, hoping to save the man she loves. As the dark curse courses through Jefferson’s veins, everyone involved soon discovers—in the most brutal of fashions—the terror that awaits when you cross Gemma Landry.

Favorite Lines:

“If I can’t create, I’ll die.”

“A mirror reflecting everything Gemma hated about herself.”

“Now, she was no longer ashamed of her scars. They were a testament to her survival.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Portraits of Decay is raw, unsettling, and emotionally relentless, but never careless. From the prologue onward, Blanes establishes a sense of dread rooted not just in horror elements, but in control, obsession, and emotional dependence. The violence is shocking, yes, but what lingers longer is the slow erosion of agency across the characters’ lives.

What makes the novel so compelling is how deeply embedded it is in its setting. New Orleans is not just a backdrop here; it bleeds into every interaction and impulse. The art scene, the humidity, the supernatural undertones, and the social hierarchies all feel lived-in rather than aestheticized. Blanes captures the precariousness of creative ambition with unsettling precision. The question at the heart of the book is not simply what happens when art is taken from you, but what happens when your identity is tied so tightly to someone else that you no longer recognize where your voice ends and theirs begins.

The character dynamics are where the novel truly shines. Jefferson’s passivity, Nevaeh’s vulnerability, and Gemma’s manipulative control form a volatile triangle that feels disturbingly plausible. No one is fully innocent, yet no one feels disposable. Even when characters make frustrating choices, those choices feel rooted in fear, insecurity, or survival rather than convenience. The emotional harm inflicted between characters is often more disturbing than the physical violence, because it is so recognizable.

Summary:

Overall, Portraits of Decay is not a comfortable read, but it is an effective one. It examines obsession, artistic ego, and emotional captivity with an unflinching eye, allowing its characters to be ugly, damaged, and honest. The horror lies less in the supernatural than in how easily control can masquerade as love, and how ambition can justify cruelty. This is a novel that trusts its readers to sit with discomfort and draw their own conclusions, and it is stronger for that restraint.

It will resonate most with readers who enjoy psychological horror, literary horror, and character-driven dark fiction. It is especially well suited for those interested in stories about artistic identity, toxic relationships, and emotional manipulation. Fans of slow-burn tension, morally complex characters, and atmospheric settings will likely find this novel both disturbing and deeply engaging. Happy reading!

Check out Portraits of Decay here!
Check out the book trailer here!

Review: The Regression Strain by Kevin Hwang

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Synopsis:

Nobody’s safe when the inner beast awakens…

Dr. Peter Palma joins the medical team of the Paradise to treat passengers for minor ailments as the cruise ship sails across the Atlantic. But he soon discovers that something foul is festering under the veneer of leisure. Deep in the bowels of the ship, a vile affliction pits loved ones against each other and shatters the bonds of civil society. The brig fills with felons, the morgue with bodies, and the vacation becomes a nightmare.

One by one, the chaos claims Peter’s allies. His mentor spirals into madness and the security chief fights a losing battle against anarchy. No help comes from the captain, who has an ego bigger than the ocean.

With the ship racing toward an unprepared New York, the fate of humanity hinges on Peter’s deteriorating judgment. But he’s hallucinating and delirious…and sometimes primal urges are impossible to resist.

The Regression Strain is a fast-paced medical thriller laced with psychological suspense, perfect for fans of Michael Crichton and Blake Crouch.

Favorite Lines:

“Right back into it, then. He was a kid on a roller coaster cresting the first big incline—the moment before the bottom fell out. He opened the closet and confronted his uniform. Sure, he’d paid for the ride, but that didn’t make it any less stomach-churning.”

“Funny how standards eroded in the face of devastation.”

“The holes in his memory were filling in like groundwater welling up in the paw prints of a rabid raccoon. Muddy and random.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

What starts as a slow simmer quickly boils over in The Regression Strain, Kevin Hwang’s debut that’s equal parts medical mystery, psychological spiral, and pandemic-era existential horror. It’s not a long book, but it’s the kind that lingers—creeping into your thoughts days after you’ve closed it.

The story follows Dr. Peter Palma caught in the chaos of a rapidly spreading fungal pandemic. But Hwang doesn’t just want to tell a virus-outbreak story. He wants to pick at your nerves. The plot slips between sanity, and reality in a way that’s deliberately disorienting. Think fever dream with a med school vocabulary. And I mean that as a compliment.

What makes this novel hum is the way Hwang blends scientific precision with narrative messiness. There’s an almost surgical attention to detail in the clinical scenes—no surprise, given Hwang’s background in medicine—but it never feels like a lecture. Instead, the book immerses you in the  high-stakes environment of a cruise ship in the midst of a mysterious illness, only to pull the rug out with unsettling shifts in tone and perception. At times, I questioned whether what I was reading was happening at all—much like the narrator himself. It’s a risky move, but it works.

Stylistically, it won’t be for everyone. The prose can be clipped and clinical one moment, then rush into sensory overload the next. It’s intentional and immersive, but it can make for a slightly uneven reading experience. That said, if you’re the kind of reader who doesn’t mind being dropped into the deep end—without floaties—there’s a lot to appreciate here.

Emotionally, The Regression Strain taps into something very now. The anxiety of being overeducated but powerless. The loneliness of a pandemic. The slow erosion of certainty. It’s not a comforting read, but it’s a relatable one, especially if you’ve ever tried to logic your way through a crisis and come out the other side more confused than when you started.

Summary:

Overall, is it horror? Sci-fi? Psychological drama? Honestly, it’s all of the above and then some. Hwang doesn’t seem interested in coloring within genre lines, and that’s part of the fun. The Regression Strain is sharp, strange, and surprisingly affecting. It’s not your typical outbreak story—It’s weirder (in a good way), smarter, and a bit sadder.

Can we also take a minute to acknowledge that Hwang is a whole father and doctor and still somehow found time to write this masterpiece, I am in awe! If you like horror, suspense, action, medical mysteries, sci-fi, and/or thrillers then this book could be for you. Happy reading!

Check out The Regression Strain here!

 

Review: The Call of Abaddon by Colin Searle

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

Synopsis:

To save the human race from the ultimate cosmic threat, Jason will have to become something far beyond human.

New Toronto is a fractured city-arcology on a dying Earth, where hope is as scarce as clean air. For Jason, survival means scavenging the ruins beneath the city – where any day could be his last.

But everything changes when an ancient alien obelisk – the ABADDON BEACON – attacks Jason’s mind from afar, making his dormant psychic abilities spiral out of control. After barely surviving Abaddon’s psionic possession attempt, Jason and his companions are left with no choice but to find the obelisk before it consumes him.

Problem is, Abaddon has been sealed within a top-secret United Earth Federation research lab for over a century, silently worming its alien technologies into human society, presented as gifts with a far darker purpose. The Beacon doesn’t just speak; it infects, projecting its viral energies far beyond the walls of the lab.

And Jason isn’t the only one hearing Abaddon’s call. Across the Solar System, a ruthless Emperor will stop at nothing to seize the Beacon’s power for himself.

As the Imperial invasion of Earth looms, Jason’s quest to confront Abaddon will force him into a critical choice: master the strange power growing inside him…or succumb to the

Beacon’s godlike influence, ushering in mankind’s doom.

The Call of Abaddon is a gripping mythological tale of humanity’s struggle to overcome an unimaginable darkness, blending the political intrigue of Dune with the eldritch terror of Lovecraft, and the explosive world-building of The Expanse.

Favorite Lines:

“‘Sounds wonderful,’ Sam responded, oozing sarcasm. ‘Now, enough stalling—let’s go find the yoks and that stupid-ass robot'”

“Aren’t you glad you got involved with us crack Undocs…?”

“Right now, we don’t have time to get into that, and frankly, there’s some things about myself that I don’t make a habit of discussing.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

The Call of Abaddon drops us straight into neon-soaked New Toronto, where ex-street kid Jason and his salvage crew comb a rotting megacity for half-functional nanotech. By page three, malfunctioning bots are sparking, black-market implants are changing hands, and a strange psychic signal is tunneling into Jason’s head, promising trouble if he dares ignore it.

The spine of the novel is Jason’s unwanted link to the Abaddon Beacon—an ancient obelisk that hijacks his dreams and starts rewriting the very tech he lives on. Colin Searle layers that creeping dread over kinetic salvage runs and under-city gunfights, all while a self-replicating nanite “Phage” looms in the background, ready to turn yesterday’s gadgets into tomorrow’s monsters.

What keeps the grimness from swallowing the book is the crew’s banter. Their gallows humor and sibling snark feel lived-in, grounding the high-concept horror in recognizably human friction. When reactor seals fail or a rust-bucket drone opens fire, the arguments feel like the kinds you’d have with friends while racing to plug a leak.

Scope-creep is the one snag: the action rockets from claustrophobic tunnels to full-blown interplanetary war. A late exposition dump about the Solar Empire’s crusade opens the universe but also stalls the momentum just long enough to notice. Even so, Searle’s knack for crunchy tech and apocalyptic imagery keeps the pages—and the debris—flying.

Summary:

Overall, grim, punchy, and weirdly heartfelt, The Call of Abaddon serves up cyber-ruins, cosmic horror, and a found-family you’ll root for right up until the Beacon calls their names. Happy reading!

Check out The Call of Abaddon here!

 

Monthly Features – June 2025

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

A Song at Dead Man’s Cove by Ana Yudin

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Synopsis: Never turn your back on the ocean…

2023. Another person has disappeared at Dead Man’s Cove in coastal Washington. Jaded from her job at the historic Irving Hotel, Zarya wanders to the scene of the tragedy. She has heard her Russian mother’s tales of rusalki—vengeful spirits that have died unclean deaths near a body of water—and never paid them much attention. But now, on a misty headland beside an abandoned lighthouse, Zarya locks eyes with the rusalka and is chosen to be the next victim. She must unearth the siren’s tragedy before Rusalka Week, a period in early summer when water-spirits roam freely on land.

1850. Josephine has just joined her newlywed husband in Washington, in the lighthouse erected by local businessman Hurley Irving. Marriage is not quite what she expected, and her melancholia grows over the course of the winter. The medic prescribes pregnancy as the antidote. What he doesn’t realize is how far Josephine is willing to go in order to become a mother.

The Gothic horror novel follows two protagonists, a modern-day misanthrope who fears intimacy and a woman in the Victorian era who thinks stealing love will make her whole. But how long can a person hide from love, and can love really be taken by force?

Summary: A Song at Dead Man’s Cove is a mesmerizing, multilayered ghost story that manages to be both otherworldly and deeply human. Ana Yudin delivers a narrative that is as much about ancestral trauma and unspoken truths as it is about sirens and shipwrecks. It’s a tale of women silenced by history—singing now through salt and shadow to be heard.

Highly recommended for fans of Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Erin Morgenstern, and readers who crave gothic atmosphere with a feminist edge.

See the full review here: A Song at Dead Man’s Cove
Purchase here

 

With Time to Kill by Frank Ferrari

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Synopsis: Everyone deserves a second chance, but how far would you go for one?

In the gritty streets of Edinburgh, Garry Plumb is about to find out. Living life on the periphery, never fitting in and always on his own, Garry’s world opens up when he meets Billy, the peculiar bus driver who has been watching him. Billy knows exactly how it feels to be ignored and his influence on Garry is immediate.

For the first time, Garry knows what it means to have his very own best friend. But this friendship is unlike any other, as Billy reveals how Garry can fix his entire life by changing his past.

But when the DCI John Waters, a relentless detective hunting a clever serial killer, enters Garry’s life, their friendship is put to the ultimate test.

Garry is willing to do anything for a second chance at life but, after meeting Billy, he has to ask would he kill for it?

This dark and captivating tale of self-discovery, murder and redemption will keep readers on the edge of their seats. With Time to Book One, a perfect blend of Scottish crime and sci-fi thriller, will leave you wanting more.

Summary: Overall, With Time to Kill is a gleefully dark mash-up of police procedural, serial-killer horror, and high-concept time travel. If you like your thrillers smart, Scottish, and just a little bit unhinged, clear an evening—you’ll race through this and immediately want the sequel.

See the full review here: With Time to Kill
Purchase here

 

The People Who Paint Rocks by Michael Stewart Hansen

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Synopsis: The People Who Paint Rocks is a multi-generational horror epic that transcends the boundaries of its genre. What begins as a period horror/drama in 1910 Santa Fe evolves into a chilling supernatural thriller by 1975, where a pregnant nurse and a detective tormented by spiritual doubt race to stop an evil older than memory. A moody, unsettling, and unrelentingly atmospheric work that grips the reader from the first page and refuses to let go.

The opening act is steeped in Western gothic, introducing us to Albert McCord, a grieving husband and father seeking revenge on the wolf that took his family. But the creature he hunts is no ordinary predator—it is the origin of something far more terrifying. Hansen cleverly seeds this early chapter with themes of loss, legacy, and the illusion of control. Albert’s struggle is both physical and existential, as he fends off his late wife’s scheming family while unknowingly chasing a malevolent force that will haunt generations to come.

Fast-forward to 1975, and the novel pivots into psychological horror, following Charlie, a pregnant nurse caught in a web of ritualistic murders, and Alonzo, a detective whose beliefs are unraveling. This shift is not jarring but deliberate, echoing the disjointed sense of time that defines much of the book’s unsettling tone. The narrative connection between Albert and the events six decades later becomes a dark thread pulling the characters toward an inevitable confrontation.

Summary: Overall, The People Who Paint Rocks is a gritty, big-hearted mash-up of western, creature feature, and generational ghost story. Come for the demon wolf and six-gun showdowns, stay for the way Hansen turns painted pebbles into the creepiest grave markers this side of Stephen King country. It’s messy, mean, and—when the sun finally comes up over Red Rocks—oddly hopeful.

See the full review here: The People Who Paint Rocks
Purchase here

 

Review: The People Who Paint Rocks by Michael Stewart Hansen

~ likelystory18 ~ 2 Comments

Synopsis:

The People Who Paint Rocks is a multi-generational horror epic that transcends the boundaries of its genre. What begins as a period horror/drama in 1910 Santa Fe evolves into a chilling supernatural thriller by 1975, where a pregnant nurse and a detective tormented by spiritual doubt race to stop an evil older than memory. A moody, unsettling, and unrelentingly atmospheric work that grips the reader from the first page and refuses to let go.

The opening act is steeped in Western gothic, introducing us to Albert McCord, a grieving husband and father seeking revenge on the wolf that took his family. But the creature he hunts is no ordinary predator—it is the origin of something far more terrifying. Hansen cleverly seeds this early chapter with themes of loss, legacy, and the illusion of control. Albert’s struggle is both physical and existential, as he fends off his late wife’s scheming family while unknowingly chasing a malevolent force that will haunt generations to come.

Fast-forward to 1975, and the novel pivots into psychological horror, following Charlie, a pregnant nurse caught in a web of ritualistic murders, and Alonzo, a detective whose beliefs are unraveling. This shift is not jarring but deliberate, echoing the disjointed sense of time that defines much of the book’s unsettling tone. The narrative connection between Albert and the events six decades later becomes a dark thread pulling the characters toward an inevitable confrontation.

Favorite Lines:

“You got more balls than brains, son.”

“Some rocks are hard to read. Some are easy.”

“The wolf he’d hunted so determinedly suddenly seemed insignificant compared to the secrets the red rocks had been keeping.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Michael Stewart Hansen’s The People Who Paint Rocks splices a dust-blown 1910 New Mexico western to full-tilt folk-horror and somehow makes the seams feel natural. From page one we’re pitched into camp-fire mist and an injured stranger clutching a dead infant, while a spectral wolf circles just out of the light. What starts as a classic “frontier bad-omen” tale quickly sprawls across decades and states, dragging in an orphan-stuffed mission school, a crooked land grab, and a sanitarium where nuns hiss Latin that would curdle holy water. The mood stays taut because Hansen never lets the supernatural drown the human stakes; every eerie set piece, from a wolf pacing in a carnival cage to a demon-tinged asylum corridor, lands on the backs of characters already bowed by grief or greed.

At the center is Albert McCord, a rancher still raw from losing his family to a “black wolf”—animal, spirit, or both. His dogged hunt stitches the novel’s timelines together: one minute he’s evangelizing dynamite-strong coffee with his ranch hand Earl, the next he’s staring down that same black beast against a blood-red mesa. The wolf’s menace is real enough to draw actual Winchester fire, yet it also feels like whatever evil the locals have been whispering about since the priests of Our Lady of Sorrows were found slaughtered on All Hallows’ Eve. When Albert finally realizes the painted stones dotting his land may be grave markers rather than kids’ crafts, the horror pivots from creature-feature to something far older and sadder.

The large cast could have ballooned into chaos, but Hansen doles out POVs like camp-fire stories—each one lurid, self-contained, and building the overarching mythos. William Ward, the whiskey-soaked heir who wants Albert’s ranch, is more tobacco-spit than moustache-twirl, yet his brand of entitled cruelty fits the book’s grimy view of power. Later chapters jump to a 1970s asylum where Sister Kinney’s bone-snapping transformations crank the horror to Exorcist-level body fear, all while a pregnant nurse and an unnervingly prescient child pass painted rocks like cursed postcards. The tonal gear shifts might jar some readers, but the through-line—wolves, faith, and buried sins—keeps the engine firing.

What really sells the novel is the language: plain-spoken frontier grit bumping against sudden poetry. Hansen can describe a saloon stare-down with the same weight he gives a wolf’s last breath or a nun’s Latin snarl, and the dialogue rings true whether it’s ranch-hand humor or courtroom doom-saying. If there’s a flaw, it’s that the time jumps demand close attention—blink and you’ll miss which decade you’re bleeding in—but the payoff is worth the occasional whiplash. By the time Albert stands ankle-deep in desert soil written over with painted stones, the book has earned every chill.

Summary:

Overall, The People Who Paint Rocks is a gritty, big-hearted mash-up of western, creature feature, and generational ghost story. Come for the demon wolf and six-gun showdowns, stay for the way Hansen turns painted pebbles into the creepiest grave markers this side of Stephen King country. It’s messy, mean, and—when the sun finally comes up over Red Rocks—oddly hopeful. Happy reading!

Check out The People Who Paint Rocks here!

 

Review: All the Silent Bones by Gregory Funaro

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

Synopsis:

When they were boys, Ray Dawley, Eddie Sayers, and Matthew Kauffman were the best of friends. Then new kid Bobby “Bones” Bonetti fell through the ice at Blackamore Pond. The other boys saved Bobby from drowning, but something else came out of the water that day, something dangerous that would tear their friendship apart and set one of them on a dark path.

Forty years after the incident on the ice, Ray, a retired college professor, has moved back into his childhood home. Eddie is a retired homicide detective, and Matthew is a successful investment banker. Bobby, who is on disability from his job as a corrections officer at a juvenile detention center, has a secret: the darkness that found him under the ice when he was a kid has made him do terrible things.

Following a reunion at Ray’s house, Matthew is found murdered in his car beside the old pond. The killer includes a chilling message that only the three remaining friends would recognize. Could one of their own be a murderer?

All the Silent Bones, a tense and disturbing thriller told from alternating perspectives of morally complex characters, explores the lasting impact of childhood trauma and its influence on adult relationships.

Favorite Lines:

“You make plans, you prepare for war, you work hard to ensure your kid stays far away from the front lines so that when you see the enemy on the horizon, you’re ready to hit them back with everything you have without collateral damage. But it was also important to make time to play, to get lost in it with abandon—like a child on a snow day. All the worries buried far beneath the pristine white.”

““I always loved you. Even when I didn’t know how.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Gregory Funaro’s All the Silent Bones is a chilling, atmospheric thriller that balances psychological horror with literary nuance. Set in Rhode Island and steeped in childhood trauma, abuse, and dissociation, the novel follows Ray Dawley and David Ruggieri as they struggle with the legacies of their pasts and the spectral presence of “Bones”—a dark alter ego that may be more than just a psychological construct.

At its core, All the Silent Bones is a story about memory, trauma, and the brutal ghosts of childhood. The narrative explores the complicated psychological effects of abuse through the lens of dissociative identity disorder, giving shape to an internal world where elves, shadows, and monsters are metaphors for brokenness—and sometimes frighteningly real.

Funaro’s prose is both sharp and lyrical. The characters—particularly Dave/Bones—are unforgettable in their complexity. Bones, the snarling, darkly comedic, and tragically constructed alter ego, becomes the emotional center of the book, embodying both horror and heartbreak. Dr. Natalia Morris, the therapist unraveling Dave’s fractured psyche, serves as a grounded counterbalance to the surreal and disturbing revelations that emerge.

The book isn’t for the faint of heart. It does not flinch from describing graphic abuse, dissociation, and the descent into mental illness, but does so with care, intent, and a deep understanding of its psychological subject matter. There’s a sense of dread throughout that builds slowly and lands with real emotional weight. The themes are heavy, but handled with deftness and honesty.

Funaro’s ability to blend horror and heartbreak is what elevates this book. While the elves and alternate personalities add a supernatural edge, the real terror comes from the raw portrayal of pain, abandonment, and the desperate need to be loved.

Summary:

Overall, a dark and devastating psychological thriller, Gregory Funaro’s All the Silent Bones is a brutal but beautifully told story about the lingering damage of childhood abuse and the fragile hope of healing. It’s an unflinching exploration of trauma and identity, laced with eerie symbolism and grounded by authentic human emotion. Highly recommended for fans of psychological horror, literary thrillers, and trauma-informed storytelling. Happy reading!

Check out All the Silent Bones here!

 

Review: The Devil You Know by David Brimer

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

Synopsis:

From the author of Piedmont and In Case I Need You comes four new tales of terror you won’t soon forget.

“Chirping” – A small Florida town is besieged by an enemy from below.
“Get Your Kicks” – A man sets out to commit the perfect murder spree.
“That’s The Breaks” – A wrestler adjusting to a devastating injury finds help in unexpected and sinister ways.
“The Girl In The Drawn Bonnet” – A mistake during wartime follows a young German into an unforeseen alliance.

Inspired by the great novella collections of Stephen King, The Devil You Know is sure to keep you up at night.

Favorite Lines:

As I do with all short story or poetry collections, rather than picking my favorite lines, I pick my pieces. For this collection, I really enjoyed Chirping and The Girl in the Drawn Bonnet.

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

The Devil You Know is a gripping and thought-provoking psychological thriller that features 4 short stories inspired by Stephen King’s own novella collections. By blending elements of suspense, dark humor, and deeply introspective character exploration, Brimer has crafted a collection of stories that lingers long after the final page.

I found the writing in this collection to be sharp and immersive, pulling the reader into a world where trust is fragile and reality is often blurred. I found myself at the edge of my seat many times – Brimer does a great job at making you question what you thought you knew as reality in these stories. I also thought that Brimer did a wonderful job at pacing, steadily building tension while allowing moments of reflection that add depth to the characters and their motivations.

One of the book’s greatest strengths is its ability to balance psychological depth with an engaging, fast-moving plot. The dialogue feels natural, laced with wit and unease, making the interactions between characters both compelling and unpredictable. The themes of identity, deception, and morality add complexity to the narrative, making it more than just a thriller—it’s an exploration of what it truly means to know oneself.

Summary:

Overall, this book is for readers who enjoy thrillers with a psychological twist, The Devil You Know is a must-read. Brimer’s storytelling is both entertaining and unsettling, making this novel a standout in the genre. Whether you’re drawn to intricate character studies or edge-of-your-seat suspense, this book. Happy reading!

Check out The Devil You Know here!

 

Review: Zombie Mom by Savannah L. Jones

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

Synopsis:

WHAT IF ZOMBIES STILL REMEMBER WHO THEY ARE?

When a mother is bitten during a zombie outbreak, she expects death-but it never comes. Instead, her body succumbs to the virus while her mind stays intact, revealing a horrifying truth: zombies aren’t mindless. They’re conscious, imprisoned in bodies they can’t control. As she fights to protect her children from both the undead and herself, she discovers unlikely allies who see beyond her condition. Together, they must navigate a world where trust is scarce, the undead are misunderstood, and a mother’s love endures beyond death itself.

Told from a unique 1st-person perspective, Zombie Mom is a gut-wrenching, genre-defying tale of survival, sacrifice, and the unbreakable bonds of family, even when humanity itself is on the line.

Favorite Lines:

“They regarded me as they would apiece of abstract art or a science experiment gone fascinatingly wrong.”

“When I was bit I never imagined my life would extend past a few moments, yet I was alive; if only in my own mind.”

“You’re not alone. We’re all family now.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Savannah L. Jones’ Zombie Mom reimagines the zombie apocalypse genre, infusing it with emotional depth, originality, and a uniquely maternal perspective. This isn’t your typical survival horror story; instead, it’s an intimate exploration of identity, love, and second chances told through the eyes of a mother struggling to protect her children and reclaim her humanity.

The story centers on a “zombie mom” who, against all odds, becomes the subject of a groundbreaking experiment to reverse the effects of her infection. What unfolds is a gripping, suspense-filled journey of self-discovery, redemption, and the unyielding strength of a mother’s love. As she wrestles with her condition, her perspective offers a compelling mix of humor, heartbreak, and humanity that sets this book apart from standard zombie fare.

I can honestly say that this was a first for me. The only other zombie related thing that came to mind that would be remotely similar was Warm Bodies but that centered around romance more than family. This was the first zombie related book that I have ever heard of, let alone read, from the perspective of a mother who becomes infected and still tries to protect her family.

Jones’ writing is dynamic and immersive, capturing the raw emotions and chaotic energy of an apocalyptic world. From the protagonist’s internal conflict to the perilous journeys with a group of survivors, every page brims with tension and emotional resonance. Seeing through a mother’s perspective is both poignant and thought-provoking, forcing readers to grapple with the ethical dilemmas and the resilience of familial bonds even in the face of unimaginable circumstances.

What truly makes Zombie Mom a standout is its balance of action and introspection. While there’s no shortage of perilous moments and harrowing escapes, the story never loses sight of its emotional core. Readers who enjoy thought-provoking, character-driven narratives will appreciate how Jones navigates the complexities of a mother’s love in a world gone mad. The subtle commentary on identity, community, and survival further enriches the reading experience, making it more than just an entertaining zombie tale.

Summary:

Overall, Zombie Mom is a fresh, imaginative take on the zombie genre that will appeal to fans of horror, science fiction, and deeply human stories. With a gripping plot, relatable characters, and a writing style that’s both vivid and heartfelt, Jones has delivered a stunning debut. This is one book you’ll want to devour in one sitting—and you’ll eagerly await whatever she writes next. Happy reading!

Check out Zombie Mom here!