Horror List Book Review: The Tomb

I'm reading through three lists of best horror with two friends (DeAnna Knippling and M.B. Partlow), posting reviews as we go. (For more information, including a list of the books, see this post.) To see the books I've reviewed so far, you can view the list at the end of this post where I rank them. 

This week I'm reviewing The Tomb, by F. Paul Wilson.

This book is actually classified as supernatural thriller, not horror, and I'd agree with that. There was nothing frightening about this story. However, the pacing was pretty good, the stakes high, especially at the end. I didn't always feel that tension, though, maybe because we knew who the villain was. Also, the main character wasn't too intent on finding the villain at first, so why would the reader feel that urgency? It wasn't until it became personal for him that things picked up.

The main character is Repairman Jack. He "takes care" of problems. He's charged with two jobs at the beginning of the book: 1. Find a missing elderly woman, and 2. Find the missing necklace of a different elderly woman who is dying in the hospital after being attacked and robbed.

His job ultimately leads him to a nightmare creature called a rakosh, an Indian (India) demon. The rakoshi are being used to take revenge, and he must race against time to stop them from killing someone he cares about.

I liked the character of Repairman Jack. He was down to earth, despite being a tough guy who discreetly takes care of problems he's paid to deal with. There was a certain aloofness, but he wasn't an uncaring man. Certainly, he has an interesting life. This is a series, so his adventures go on.

His good friend is Abe, a sports shop owner who also runs guns from the basement. Abe was a Jewish conspiracy theorist, and quite fun. 

His villain was a mixed bag for me. While he did have good and bad aspects, an important element of a good villain, he was a little too crazy-pants for me. At least there was a reason he was seeking his revenge. Even so, his rationale was thin. No matter what misgivings he had, he had to fix his karma by doing this awful thing, which makes no sense to me, but obviously I'm not a karma expert. He acknowledged to himself that these people were innocents, yet he had to take them out to satisfy his thirst for revenge that didn't even start until recently.

The characters that really irked me were the women. See, Repairman Jack has two love interests in this book. One is a woman he had a relationship with, but who broke up with him when she discovered he wasn't actually a repairman. She was a shrew. I hated everything about her. I couldn't stand any scene with her in it. She didn't give this man she was in love with a chance to explain anything to her, she judged him and harped on her feelings about his life every single bloody time we saw her, she blamed him for all kinds of things, and she sent mixed signals (because comfort--blah.) I feel like he was trying to write her as a "strong" woman, but what she was instead was a nasty, angry person. Blech.

The other love interest wasn't much better. She was a guardian of the rakoshi, and incredibly old, despite her appearances. At first, I liked her. She was strong, she was sultry, and she knew what she wanted. But she dissolved entirely, and turned out to be yet another damsel in distress for Jack to take care of, even against the creatures she had been put in charge of. What? She's 200 years old, but she goes into shock when he needs her most, whimpers and spaces out, lets the villain walk over her. Blech again. I wanted to slap her. She was useless. Why?

Every female in this book was a damsel in distress. Every single one. Trying to write them as strong doesn't cover that up. And my version of strong is obviously different than his, which is fine. To each their own. But I was so distracted by these women's weaknesses that I couldn't get fully engaged in any scene involving them. I found their weakness tiresome. I rolled my eyes every time they got in trouble or made a stupid mistake. I felt letdown whenever a chapter was about one of them.

On top of that, his relation to Gia, the woman he loves, but who broke up with him, irritated me to no end. They'd been apart for months, and she never tried to hide how disgusted she was by him. Yet he kept pushing, kept bugging her, kept calling, kept talking to her like nothing was wrong. And he was repeatedly hurt by her rebuffs. In short, I wanted to slap him. Stop being hurt by it. Leave her alone. I'm sorry you're hurt, but you're making it worse by constantly pursuing someone who doesn't want to be with you. Grow a pair and walk away, dude.

UGH!

In other words, the story is interesting, and the rakoshi mythology was well enough created that I actually looked them up to see if they were a real legend in India (nope.) The relationships and female characterizations were the weak points of this book. The story line was the strong point. I was rooting for him in everything but love (seriously, ugh). I think the tension could have been better.

This is an early book in the series, I believe, so it probably got better. One of the things about this list is that often the first book is put up as the author's best of, and that's rarely the case. Despite my not at all concealed rage at the female characters and "romance," I would read another Repairman Jack novel. I'd just skim to make sure Gia wasn't in it first. If the women in that book were as weak and useless, I'd stop there.

I'm having a harder time ranking books as I go now that the numbers are growing, but here's my best shot at it.

My new rankings:

1. The Handmaid's Tale (Margaret Atwood)

2. The Bottoms (Joe R. Lansdale)

3. Coraline (Neil Gaiman)

4. Those Who Hunt the Night (Barbara Hambly)

5. The Wolf's Hour (Robert McCammon)

6. Berserk (Tim Lebbon)

7. Best New Horror, Volume 1 (edited by Stephen Jones and Ramsey Campbell)

8. Blood Meridian (Cormac McCarthy)

9. The Imago Sequence (Laird Barron)

10. From the Dust Returned (Ray Bradbury)

11. In Silent Graves (Gary A. Braunbeck)

12. The Tomb (F. Paul Wilson)

13. The Cipher (Kathe Koja)

14. Drawing Blood (Poppy Z. Brite)

15. The Doll Who Ate His Mother (Ramsey Campbell

16. Hotel Transylvania (Chelsea Quinn Yarbro)

Now that I've officially depleted my closest library's reserves of books from the list, I'm unsure what book will be next. I need to switch back to the ebooks and see what I can come up with.

Have you read F. Paul Wilson? How about his Repairman Jack books? Do they get better? What did you think of the character of Jack? How do you define a strong woman character?

May you find your Muse.

Horror List Book Review: The Cipher

Technically, this should have been done last Friday, but I chose to take the full week off, so from here on out, the every other week review post will be every two weeks from this post.

I'm reading through three lists of best horror with two friends, posting reviews as we go. (For more information, including a list of the books, see this post.) So far, I've reviewed Poppy Z. Brite's Drawing Blood, Robert McCammon's The Wolf's Hour, Laird Barron's The Imago Sequence, Neil Gaiman's Coraline, and Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale. This week, I'm reviewing Kathe Koja's The Cipher.

I'm a little mixed in my opinion of this book, which is funny, because there's a foreword that says people either love it or hate it. I don't feel passionately enough about it to love or hate it. 

In The Cipher, a couple (using that term loosely) discovers a black hole in a storage room. They name it the Funhole, and begin to experiment with it by dropping things in (a jar of bugs, a rat). When Nick, the POV character, stumbles, his hand goes into the Funhole and something begins to happen to him. A creeping malady that develops bit by bit. Not only a widening miniature Funhole in his own flesh, but a mental change.

First, the pros. I found the story intriguing enough to want to know what this thing was and what would happen to Nick in the end. It became a tale where the main character is trapped in a situation he has created. The narrative style was such that one felt his increasing desperation as the issue unfolded. As he is trapped, so are we. His voice was very stream of consciousness during desperate or confusing times, conversational in the calmer times. It felt like I was sitting across from him in some smoky diner, leaning in to hear what he had to say. I think the writing was good, solid, in that way.

But as I sit here trying to figure out the pros and cons, I find that I have more cons. I didn't find the characters likable, even Nick, really. He was too weak for me to identify with him or really care. If you aren't going to solve a problem, or work to do so, what do I care what happens to you? My interest in how it would turn out for him, as I mentioned above, was not about being invested in him so much as a scientific detachment that made me want to observe what was next. However, Nick is the most likable character other than two secondary characters, Vanese and Randy. Whenever Vanese was there, I felt an odd sort of relief that there was someone with an iota of common sense hanging around. And Randy meant well.

A big issue I had was that the story felt drawn out beyond where it should have ended. It felt like a short story that got stretched out too long, with unnecessary bullying characters thrown in to draw it out. At about 23% (Kindle ebook), I looked at that percentage and wondered what in the world could possibly go on to fill the last 77% of the book. It could have been shrunk down, still covered the important parts, and been an excellent short story.

The other primary character is Nakota. I couldn't stand her. She was strung out, vindictive, an awful person. She, more than anyone else, perpetuated the issues in this book. She was instrumental in trapping Nicholas in the situation. She tormented him then brought in more people to torment him. I was rooting for him to throw her in the Funhole. Please just kill her and be done with this.

As I write it out, I realize it sounds like I didn't like it. But I don't regret having read it. It was a worthwhile story to read, just flawed. The story was basically a slow, queasy, confusing spiral into insanity, and that part was well done. It's not technically insanity, as there is an outside force more than internal, but that's what it feels like. I wanted it to stop. It was like being in a junkie's mind. There was an awful self-destructive force occurring that simply couldn't be escaped. A compelling obsession that couldn't be erased. Certainly, that will stick with me.

And, for the record, the book won a Bram Stoker Award. There's a reason it's on the list, and I do feel it was horror, mostly psychological. At least, it was the psychological aspects that drew me in and interested me. I didn't find the Funhole all that interesting, though it was the cause of everything, the beginning and the end of it all.

What it comes down to is this book was gritty, it was compelling, it sucked me in, but it was flawed in terms of there being characters I could care about and contrived plot points meant to draw the story out.

A warning: the ebook had a ton of typos in it. There were times I questioned whether certain flaws were on purpose, an attempt at something poetic or a halting thought process, or whether they were typos. I still couldn't tell you. The physical book is out of print, but would be an interesting find at a secondhand store. 

I think I'll be reading and reviewing Those Who Hunt the Night by Barbara Hambly next.

Have you read Kathe Koja? The Cipher? What did you think? What book of hers do you like best? What type of horror do you enjoy most?

May you find your Muse.

Horror List Book Review: Coraline

I'm reading through three lists of best horror with two friends, posting reviews as we go. (For more information, including a list of the books, see this post.) So far, I've reviewed Poppy Z. Brite's Drawing Blood, Robert McCammon's The Wolf's Hour, and Laird Barron's The Imago Sequence. This week, I'm reviewing Coraline, by Neil Gaiman.

The version I read, borrowed from the library, was an anniversary edition. It had a snippet at the beginning about Gaiman's inspiration for the story, which was a fun addition, and gave me some insight into the details behind it.

I liked this. A lot. I'm surprised I hadn't read this before. Of course, I'd seen the movie, which I enjoyed, so I was wary of liking the movie better. However, they're pretty close, and both are wonderful.

Coraline's parents are busy people, wrapped up in their own worlds, so she spends her time exploring and playing on her own. Everyone she interacts with only barely listens to her, and they never really hear her. If you've ever had your name mispronounced, especially if it happens habitually, you'll know how she feels when it repeatedly happens to her. While I've always been called Sharon instead of Shannon, Coraline gets called Caroline. I automatically had that internal urge to correct them when they called her Caroline. I think I would have appreciated that part of the storyline as a kid.

The story takes a turn when Coraline begins seeing shadows and hearing someone moving around the house. A locked door magically unlocks. On the other side, she finds a flipped world that looks much like the real world, and is inhabited by twisted versions of the people in the real world. Things seem better in this version of the world at first, with people paying more attention to Coraline and calling her by the correct name. Then things begin to change. Through it all, Coraline is clever and polite. She faces some freaky things, like her Other Mother and Other Father, alternate versions of her parents possessing buttons instead of eyes, and she remains brave throughout, acknowledging that bravery doesn't mean you aren't scared. A great lesson for kids. 

By the end of the story, not only has she been shown how important her family is to her, I'd like to think her parents learned the same thing.

Gaiman creates a unique girl who is easy to identify with. The alternate world is creepy and well realized, the atmosphere surreal. Yet there's something about Gaiman's writing in this that makes it feel comfortable and intimate, like he's directly telling you a scary story. The dialog is witty. There's a solid creep factor throughout, with some scary moments, things that would not only be frightening as a child, but that adults can identify with, as well. 

Basically, I don't have anything bad to say about this story. I'm glad I finally read it. The version I read had illustrations that fit the mood perfectly. I enjoyed it as an adult, and part of that was because I could still identify with being a kid in a world that looks down on them, humors them, condescends to them. She was so lonely, yet not in a self-pitying kind of way. 

From the adult perspective, it made me look at how I interact with my kids. Am I paying them enough attention? When they speak to me, do I really listen? Often, the answer to that is no. Much like the adults in the story, I'm so often deeply engaged with myself, my work, my troubles, that I give them the attention I have to, but don't always see the people they are, and let myself set aside my work, my finances, my b.s., and just enjoy hanging out with them.

For kids, they get to see that other kids deal with these same issues, and they maybe get some insight into the fact that it doesn't mean adults don't care, just that they're preoccupied. They see this girl using her imagination, being strong, brave, and polite, using her wits to problem solve and get out of trouble. It shows her caring for and worrying about other people, not just herself. 

All in all, I found it delightful. I'm looking forward to reading this with my kids. When the book I purchased gets here. :)

My next review will be Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale.  

Have you read Coraline? Seen the movie? Which did you prefer? Did you enjoy either or both? Did you read it as a child or an adult? Have you read a book that made you look at yourself, maybe your parenting or another aspect of your life, and re-evaluate?

May you find your Muse.

Horror List Book Review: Imago Sequence

I'm reading through three lists of best horror with two friends, posting reviews as we go. (For more information, including a list of the books, see this post.) So far, I've reviewed Poppy Z. Brite's Drawing Blood and Robert McCammon's The Wolf's Hour. This week, I'm reviewing Laird Barron's The Imago Sequence.

The Imago Sequence is a collection of short stories (and the title of the final short story). The first thing I noticed was that he seemed very introspective about age. Perhaps this is just because the first story dedicated a lot of attention to age. The male characters tended to be fighting on, despite their age, or dealing with life changes, whereas the female characters that focused on age tended to be evil hags or a bit of a joke (that joke holding something evil behind it). Not always, but there was a tendency. I'm not sure this would have stood out to me so much if DeAnna Knippling hadn't mentioned it in her review of this book first. Would I have, or was it a case of the Oracle telling Neo not to worry about the vase he broke? I couldn't tell you. I was so curious, though, about where he was when he wrote these that I looked up his age and when the book was published. (His thirties, if they were written around when the book was published, but with a short story anthology, there's no guarantee, and I don't have the time to research individual short stories--that's crazy talk.)

His stories didn't lay out the monsters for the reader most of the time. In fact, some of them left me thinking long after I'd finished reading them, just to process what I'd read and how it had ended. For the most part I liked this, though at least one left me scratching my head instead of intrigued. One of my favorite stories was so beautifully written, yet was the one that left me puzzled about the ending. I'm pretty sure my subconscious will work it out eventually.

I've seen H.P Lovecraft mentioned a lot in connection with Laird Barron, and I can see why. He delves into the surreal, ancient horrors. These stories don't just focus on the age of the characters, but also on the age of evil. Inevitably, each antagonist is ancient, hearkening back to something long ago, something wild, an all-devouring force. And a force it is. No monsters, no serial killers. Forces. Something in human form may lead them to their doom, but that doom isn't so much an entity in most cases as a power.

Barron's protagonists are well drawn inasmuch as we get to know a little about them as individuals, but it strikes me that this was necessary, because each character felt much the same on reflection. As I was putting my notes together, I could remember each story and each male protagonist (they were all male), but they were very similar to each other, at least in voice. The exception to this being probably that main character of Shiva Open Your Eye and the main character of The Royal Zoo is Closed.

One thing I can say for his characters is that they never just lie down and wait to die. No hapless victims thrown into a story to be eaten or tormented. No, they fight their damndest to get out of whatever has befallen them. 

Though the characters are similar on the surface and in voice, he skillfully weaves what we need to know about them into the narrative. The same can be said about his settings, which are laid out for us nicely in most of the stories, once again weaved into it so we aren't just sitting there while he describes what everything looks like. I had a distinct image of the setting in almost every story, and he has left pictures in my head since my reading, courtesy of the strength of some of his scenes.

I'm not sure how best to review a collection of short stories, so I'll break down the stories a little bit while trying to avoid spoilers.

Old Virginia - An older man, crotchety and washed up, is tasked with guarding a group of scientists as they conduct some manner of experiment out in the woods. Someone's messing with them in small ways, but who is it? Rival scientists? The government? Or something darker and older? This is one of the stories where age played a major role, both with the main protagonist and the crone who is part of the experiments. We see that a man who appears washed up still has fight and intelligence in him, and learn to never underestimate anyone.

Shiva Open Your Eye - This one once again features an older man who is deceptively decrepit. A contest of wits and wills ensues between him and another man. This one lost me a bit to boredom. There was so much word play, the POV character ranting on and on about his history, that my attention wandered. The words were delightfully grotesque and oddly beautiful at times, but without anything of interest being said, it just wasn't enough for me. In the end, it didn't come full circle for me. I wasn't clear on what even happened to bring the situation to a close.

Procession of the Black Sloth - A man is sent out to Hong Kong (IIRC) to investigate espionage undercover. On the way there, he sees a strange sign that things aren't going to go well. Once there, an odd witchcraft seems to be afoot, and he falls more into a frightened irrationality as he tries to figure out what's going on. This was an interesting read, with a classic sort of story behind it. We plunge into confusion with the protagonist, trying to figure out along with him what's happening. The ending was a bit forgettable after the rest of the story, though. This was a story where women of advanced age were a bit of a mockery, though it was the characters doing this mocking, not to be confused with the author (maybe?).

Bulldozer - I never figured out what the title referred to on this one. But I enjoyed this story. It followed a Pinkerton man in pursuit of a strongman with a stolen book (stolen from PT, himself) of some importance. The Pinkerton man is responsible for getting that book back. Set in the Wild West (my favorite era, as some of you probably know), we ride along with a man who has gotten himself in way over his head. The setting is well realized in this one, with a variety of interesting Wild West characters crossing his path. The only females in this story were ladies of the night, but I guess at least they weren't described as crones? This story is discombobulated at times (hallucinogenic?), sending us into a mental maelstrom with the POV character.

Proboscis - This was one of my favorites. The protagonist is a bounty hunter, having had to change his life. He begins seeing things, sensing something wrong, but he doesn't share it with his compatriots. The evil in this is insectile, leading him to the isolation of the Mima Mounds (also mentioned in at least one other story). The buildup is slow and steady, a taunting of the protag who gets sucked back in no matter what he tries to do to get away. As with some of his other stories, there is a bit of dissocation that occurs, a pulling back from the story and becoming confused, which serves to show us the mindset of the protag.

Hallucinogenia - An older man and his child bride make an unscheduled stop, only to be sucked into something horrific that follows them home, him wounded, her with severe brain damage. He can't remember what happened, but he can sense that it's not over. He's wealthy, so he throws money at it, hiring an investigator to find out more about the place their accident occurred. But even as he delves into it, it gets closer to him. This story was excellent at showing us a great evil without actually drawing a beast to go with it. Though there's never a physical presence, it looms there, just out of sight, creeping up on him. A P.I. makes an appearance in this and one other story, making me wonder how many of Barron's stories he's been in. I did find this story too long, checking my progress to see how close I was to the end. I think the buildup could have been more quickly paced.

Parallax - This was another of my favorites. A man gets a severe migraine and wakes to find his wife missing. The police think it was him, and they, as well as the press, begin hounding him. The more they hound him, the more he doubts himself. I was drawn into the story, unable to figure out what might have happened to his wife. The twist ending was interesting, and had me asking questions long after the story was done. I'd write them here, but it would give away the story. About half of what I jotted down in my notes consisted of questions I asked once it was done.

The Royal Zoo is Closed - I don't remember what this one is about. Seriously. I just went and looked to see if I could find what it was about, and found nothing that clued me in. So I won't tell you what it was about, but simply tell you what I jotted down on my little bedside notepad (I do most of my reading to wind down at bedtime.) I wrote that it was beautifully written, that I had the urge to read it out loud to feel the words coming from my mouth. But it became a constant onslaught of words, a battery. And I was confused at the end, because there seemed to be no end. Maybe I should read it again.

The Imago Sequence - A man becomes compelled to search out a series of paintings for a friend (who has the cash to fund it.) But his search leads him into something he didn't expect. There's something going on with these paintings, something deadly (at least to the rich.) I don't really have anything new to say about this one, because it followed the patterns of the other stories. 

Overall, I liked this. It was thought provoking and held powerful imagery. However, the voice of the characters was often the same and I think some of the stories traded actual story for an impression. Pacing was mostly good, but a few of them were too slow or meandering for me. And I'm not sure what to think of his female characters or his take on women. His stories were like a comfortably bumpy road, with the bumps exactly where I expected them to be. Rinse, repeat. Having said that, I feel he's a strong writer, and one that probably improved after this, seeing as how it's an earlier set of his works. I'm surprised they selected this as his best, rather than later collections or novels. But the general impression it left for me was favorable, rolling about in my head for probably awhile to come. I'll be looking into other works of his to satisfy my curiosity.

Also, this is the first book that I think truly belonged on a list of horror. I didn't look at this and wonder what caused them to put it on this particular list like I did with the last two. There was a solid creep factor in many of the stories, and all were obviously horror.

My next review will be of Coraline, by Neil Gaiman.

Have you read Laird Barron? What did you think? Have you read this collection? Did you agree or disagree with what I've said here? 

May you find your Muse.

Horror List Book Review: The Wolf's Hour

I'm reading through several best of/scariest horror lists with a couple friends, M.B. Partlow and DeAnna Knippling. You can read more about this challenge and the books on it here. The first book I did was Drawing Blood, by Poppy Z. Brite. The second book I read was The Wolf's Hour by Robert R. McCammon.

I don't understand why this is considered horror. It struck me more as a thriller with paranormal elements. Basically, it's James Bond if 007 were a werewolf. It's set during WWII. Secretly Russian Michael Gallatin is working for the British, and we find in an action sequence in the beginning that he's a werewolf, tasked with getting information from behind enemy lines. He's soon sucked into a bigger, tougher mission, contacting a man who is part of the underground rebellion in France to get information he's concealing. But getting into France is tricky if you aren't a Nazi, and this man is being watched, because the Nazis are aware he has this information and is trying to get it to the underground.

Much like Bond, Gallatin has good luck with the ladies, despite occasionally smelling like a wet dog. He's big, he's hairy, he's tough, and he's in control. He is determined to stop a mystery assault against the Allies, but with only a little information to go on, he first has to go through many adventures.

There were violently chilling moments, such as when Boots (think Jaws, but with big metal boots instead of teeth) stomps someone to death. Another moment that stuck out to me was when Gallatin was making an escape with a dead man locked around his throat, dragging him down. Yet another involving one man hunting another. But to me, these elements didn't make it horror. And, of course, there are elements of WWII and the Holocaust that are real-life horrific, but even these didn't make this particular story horror. Maybe it's just because he's a werewolf.

There's a parallel story line through much of the book that gives us his origin story. It bounces back and forth between his origins as a werewolf and his current mission. His origin story doesn't stay restricted to that, though, sporting a separate set of conflicts from the main premise of the story.

One note on writing style I need to throw out is the prevalence of head hopping in this book. I don't know if that's typical of McCammon's style, as I haven't read any of his other books yet, but I swear we hopped into the heads of most characters, even characters who were just in a brief scene. It might leap between three people in three paragraphs. While it was almost always immediately clear whose head we were in, this began to get to me during my reading. Would I have noticed it if it wasn't so pounded into writers' heads that head hopping is a no-no? I have no idea. All I know is that it was bothersome to me through the course of my reading.

The first two books I've read have made me wonder if I have the wrong idea of what defines horror. What's the purpose of horror? To scare you? To make you think about something that disturbs you? The Horror Writers Association defines it as such: "Webster's Collegiate Dictionary gives the primary definition of horror as "a painful and intense fear, dread, or dismay." It stands to reason then that "horror fiction" is fiction that elicits those emotions in the reader." (There's much more to their description, which you can read here.) Wikipedia quotes J.A. Cuddon as saying horror is "a piece of fiction in prose of variable length... which shocks or even frightens the reader, or perhaps induces a feeling of repulsion or loathing." 

The problem is, there are a lot of things that can cause fear, loathing, dread, and dismay that don't get classified as horror. Since it's part of this book, what about the Holocaust? Anything I read about it makes me feel all of the above, despite being nonfiction, not horror.

So is it the purposeful attempt to make the reader feel that way? When someone writes about a real life serial killer, are they merely trying to educate, or do they also want to illicit your visceral reactions? What separates that from horror then? The fact that it's real life? Can horror only be fiction? 

Obviously, I don't have any big answers for this. But there wasn't an aspect to The Wolf's Hour that I found to be horror. I liked the story. It was well written, though the head hopping was a distraction for me. The characters were engaging and interesting. The pacing was well done, not so frenetic that it wears out the reader, but not slow either. The story line was solid if you like espionage, intrigue, and action. If you're a James Bond fan, you'll like this. But if you're sitting down to read something to freak you out, I wouldn't recommend it. Not for that purpose. Read it because you want a story of a werewolf helping the Allies against the Nazi forces, but not because you think it will give you the late night willies.

Next up for me is The Imago Sequence, by Laird Barron. 

Have you read The Wolf's Hour or other books by Robert McCammon? I'm looking forward to his Swan Song, which is also on the list. What did you think? Has the list given you any ideas?

May you find your Muse.