Demon Theory by Stephen Graham Jones, Narrated by Richard Ferrone

Like much of what Jones has written, Demon Theory defies easy classification and mixes subgenres with fluidity and skill that borders on awe-inspiring. There’s a little bit of Watcher In the Woods, a touch of Jacob’s Ladder, a hint of Scream, and perhaps a taste of the first two Return of the Living Dead films serving as inspiration behind this book–that in turn serves as the novelization of three fictional films constituting the “Devil Inside” trilogy. Filled with pop culture references and nods to obscure horror flicks (for today’s audience), witty dialogue, meta-commentary, and as much dark humor as there is horror, this book is an excellent experience for fans of Stephen Graham Jones.

We begin on Halloween night as a group of medical students goes to Hale’s childhood home where his diabetic mother needs assistance. When they arrive, with Hale’s mother nowhere to be found, they soon discover they’re stuck in the secluded and rundown house as a snowstorm rages outside. As the story progresses, we discover the six med students aren’t alone, and it takes on a sort of slasher narrative as we learn more about Hale’s family, his childhood trauma, and the presumed identity of the killer. As the body count rises and the possible supernatural elements are introduced, we speed toward a conclusion that feels fitting, though slightly ambiguous.

The second installment of the trilogy begins with a familiar scenario that’s been touched on in the first, but things aren’t quite right. The deck has been shuffled and we’ve moved forward in time and simultaneously backward, it seems. Familiar faces appear but in different roles. The names may be the same, but the details are off…however, it isn’t long before we learn that recollection of the previous story’s events are clear to at least one of the returning characters–though Nona is treated as if these “false” memories are indicative of mental illness. It’s almost Christmas, and we ultimately find ourselves in a hospital where the staff prepares for a performance to entertain the patients. This installment skips the slasher element and dives right into the supernatural aspect we experienced in the earlier tale, amplifying the stakes and the danger. It’s no longer simply the cast of six facing the horrors that we witness arising in the hospital corridors–but how many people would believe that demonic entities are afoot before it’s too late?

The final piece of the trilogy comes as a direct sequel to the second installment, but following another time jump. We’re three years further along and many familiar faces have returned, this time taking the fight back to Hale’s childhood home, hoping to stop whatever nightmare they’ve been living in since they first stepped foot into that house. Nona has a plan, but can her judgment be trusted? Can anyone be trusted, as we delve deeper into the events that brought all of this about? Supernatural horror meets slasher meets brazen scientific experimentation as we learn the truth about Hale’s father, his sister, and the identities of the friends who accompanied Hale home in the first place. This one starts off with a splattery, violent bloodbath to up the ante as a group of punk criminals first arrive at the isolated house as a sort of initiation rite, setting the stage nicely for what awaits our returning cast of characters when they show up only a short while later.

Richard Ferrone’s narration is phenomenal, conveying a sort of homage to the voice of Ghostface from the Scream movies, which feels as perfect as could be with the self-awareness and referential nature of the characters contained within the narrative as well as the writing itself.

The Hollow Places by T. Kingfisher, Narrated by Hillary Huber

Liminal spaces get under our skin in a way that’s difficult to explain–both captivating and unsettling. Those are perhaps the best ways to describe T. Kingfisher’s The Hollow Places as well…the book is both captivating and unsettling–but in the best ways.

Kara’s life didn’t turn out quite the way she expected. Freshly divorced from a husband who left more than a little bit to be desired, she finds herself moving into the apartment owned by her eccentric and doting uncle, in the same building as his museum of curiosities–mostly containing items of questionable authenticity and taxidermy specimens of equally questionable taste and quality. When she discovers a hole in the wall, Kara has no way of preparing for what she discovers on the other side.

With the assistance of her friend and trusty barista, Kara explores the concrete bunker that exists in a space that can’t exist within the walls of her building, only to find a whole new world awaiting her. But this new world is a dangerous place filled with threats–both seen and unseen. Navigating the treacherous–and seemingly endless–series of small islands rising from a shallow river, Kara and Simon soon fear they may be lost. Lost, but not alone.

Will they find their way home?

If they find their way home, will something else pass through into our world?

You’ll have to read it to find out.

The Hollow Places is a stirring adventure into the unknown, leaving us with so many questions for which there are sure to be no answers…but satisfying our curiosity just the same.

The narration from Hillary Huber is spot-on, capturing the exasperated and sarcastic nature of Kara’s character, the kindly qualities of her loving uncle, and the peculiarly out-of-his-depth Simon about as perfectly as one could hope.

The Damned Place by Chris Miller, Narrated by Daniel Caravetta

The Damned Place could be considered the spiritual successor to Stephen King’s IT, transported into the 1990s from the 1960s of King’s pivotal masterpiece. Coming of age tales are a familiar substrate upon which horror authors can build a significant sense of dread and high stakes, relatable terror–after all, we were all children once upon a time, complete with imaginations and an unflappable sense of our own invulnerability. Some attempts are more successful than others, and Chris Miller’s foray into the subgenre is massively successful.
Deep in the woods is a dilapidated house with a history so unspeakably awful that almost no one in the nearby town of Winnsboro remembers it exists. When a group of friends stumbles across the house, they unwittingly draw the attention of a monstrous, hungry creature hoping to slip through the border between worlds and into ours. It’s in this place that they also discover their world is more magical and unreal than they’d have ever expected.
Miller provides readers with an unflinching, uncensored glimpse of a world populated by bullies, tragedy, and alien beings. With gritty, grimy realism, Miller drags us into the story he’s crafted, forcing us to bear witness to extreme depravity and cosmic horror in equal measure. Gone is the infamous underage sewer orgy of King’s novel, but don’t worry because Miller manages to add plenty of discomforting and unsettling elements to his book. But it’s not all about the terror, The Damned Place is also about the strength of friendship and the courage found in the face of impossible conditions.
Daniel Caravetta’s narration captures the accents and speech patterns of the characters in a way that makes them jump off the page for the audiobook edition of Miller’s novel.