Welcome to the Salon

Books are great (obviously, as we publish them). But so is the web. So sit back, relax, and imagine Gertrude Stein were here for a lovely respite in our Salon.

Weirdness in Writing

I’m very much a method writer. When I experience any extreme emotion, whether it be grief or anger or happiness, the lizard-like part of my writer-brain crawls out. Good, good. Take notes. Write down what it feels like to have the snots of sadness run out of your nose or quakes of anger tremble through your fist.

Point being, even sucky experiences can be positives because everything winds up on the cutting room floor of the creative mind.Read More

In Lunch and War

Finding Horrific Inspiration at a Quaint New England Restaurant

Last summer, my wife and I spent a couple of weeks house and dog-sitting for my parents at their home in the woods of northern Connecticut near the Massachusetts border. Their town is little more than a crossroads in what’s known as the “Quiet Corner” of Connecticut. Union boasts literally only one restaurant: a quirky, charming establishment called Traveler Food and Books, just off Exit 74 on I-84.

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Artist Spotlight: Luke Spooner

Luke Spooner

Luke Spooner

Luke Spooner a.k.a. ‘Carrion House’ and ‘Hoodwink House,’ currently lives and works in the South of England. Having graduated from the University of Portsmouth with a first-class degree he is now a full time illustrator and writer for just about any project that peaks his interest. Despite regular forays into children's books and fairy tales, for which he has won awards for literary and artistic merit, his true love is anything macabre, melancholy or dark in nature and essence. He believes that the job of putting someone else’s words into a visual form, to accompany and support their text, is a massive responsibility as well as being something he truly treasures. Visit Luke at http://www.carrionhouse.com/.

First Came Fear is available to buy in Paperback and eBook editions.

To Horror’s Fearless Females

To those of you who don’t already know Shirley Jackson: she is my goddess. Yes, I’ve admitted to worshipping at her figurative-altar. Yes, I’ve yipped aloud when the New Yorkerran a whole Sunday edition devoted to her awesomeness. Yes, I’ve read The Haunting of Hill Housein a single sitting, which was a mistake because by the time I finished it was 2 am and I was too terrified to sleep.Read More

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