glooomysunday

Avon's Satanic Gothics

2008-11-29T21:48:00.000-08:00

Prompted by a post over at Garnet Night by Cindy I was reminded of my love and fascination with the short lived line of Satanic Gothic novels put out by Avon in the early 1970's. So thinking back on these fond collectibles I just had to get all of mine out of storage and post them here. I'm not sure exactly how many titles comprise the entire Satanic Gothic line. I know for sure I am missing at least two maybe more. There is no real research done on this line so finding anything out about them is extremely hard. From what I can piece together this was not a themed line that they had submissions for rather it was a marketing ploy where they fit in novels that they currently had that had some kind of occult flavor be in magic to demon worship to actually featuring the devil himself. I have personally only read three of them, Lord Satan and Her Demon Lover by Louisa Bronte (real name Janet Louisa Roberts and one of my favorite authors) and The Devil's Dance which didn't really leave me with any strong impressions. All of these have the very awesome rocking goat's head logo and were published either in 1972 or 1973. Why Avon? Why these years? Why even create this marketing ploy? These and other questions for now remain unanswered. Also check out Curt's run-in's with the Satanic Gothics over at Groovy Age of Horror ===> here.

Duncraig by Monica Heath

2008-11-26T12:30:00.000-08:00

What started out as promising kind of fell through for me and instead of empathizing with the heroine I just got annoyed with her. Only a three Doom Tower rating on this one because we have a girl with as much detective power as Scooby Doo and no curiosity even when everyone around her lets hints drop left and right.

Corry Collins is an orphan living with her aunt and uncle. Her aunt will never talk of her mother and considers her a fallen woman but won't elaborate for Corry. Corry works as a clothes designer in her aunt's shop. She is suddenly approached by Creagh DeVaney the owner of a famous Irish design agency. She is immediately attracted to his good looks and can't believe it when he offers her (an unknown) a design job in Ireland in his castle's workshop. Corry takes the job and goes with him only to be thrust into a mystery. There's a curse, a sunken treasure ship, a peg-legged ghost, a crazy relative and a hostile family - not to mention an ages old castle and abbey (with relic) that is peppered with hidden chambers and dungeons.

As a side note one of the main features of this book is an ancient sanitation system in which each room had pretty much an outhouse built into it. There is a seat with a hole that was designed so waste was taken through the castles walls. In the book, this system that is no longer in use is used by the bad guy to travel from one room to another in the castle unseen. Now the question I have is do these things really exist? It just doesn't seem like a good way to dispose of waste to me - I mean wouldn't you get poo and pee all over the walls and it would just stay there and smell bad? I thought the main items used were chamber pots and outhouses? Any history buffs out there that know anything about this?

First cover is the American edition of the novel, artist unknown - the one strange thing that jumps out at me about this one is the heroine's bracelet, its an odd ornament that really stands out and is not featured in the story. Second cover is the German edition of this novel - big thanks to Andreas Decker who emailed it to me, he is a contributor at The Groovy Age of Horror. He adds that this one got a new title in its republication as Nightmare in the Castle. No clue on the second artist either.

Warlock's Woman by Jean-Anne de Pre

2008-11-25T15:28:00.000-08:00

Jean-Anne de Pre is yet another pseudonym of the very prolific author Michael Avallone. As is the case with most of these authors, quantity not quality was the main focus and their work usually shows proof of this. Warlock's Woman is a very by the numbers Gothic novel - the plot focuses on a new heiress being driven insane by people who would like to get a hold of her money. You have more than likely read this plot before, more than likely executed better but this one still proves entertaining and is a above-average example of Avallone's body of work.

Jalna is a young companion/secretary to Francis Parkhurst - the renowned expert in the occult and ESP. She travels with him to the remote mansion called Dark Oak in upstate New York for a vacation and ghost hunting expedition. What she discovers is more terrifying than she can imagine. The place does seem to be haunted and the ghosts seem to have an unhealthy fascination with Jalna herself. She soon starts to wonder if the ghosts are real, if she is going insane or if the people in the house including her beloved boss are out to get her.

An okay Gothic for a three Doom Tower rating - very nice cover art on this one by Victor Prezio.

Favorite New Blog - Pop Sensation

2008-11-24T05:25:00.000-08:00

I stumbled upon this recently and am now madly in love with it ===>
http://salmongutter.blogspot.com/
For those paperback fans out there you get beautiful scans of the front and back and sometimes spine (as in the latest addition). Plus I love his commentary about the books and the little snippets taken from them. Great stuff - do go and check it out.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

2008-11-21T10:44:00.000-08:00

I love Shirley Jackson and she is in my top ten favorite authors list. It's not so much what she writes about (though her characters and plots are awesome - dark and mysterious with just the right amount of foreboding that makes you skin creep) but it is how she writes. I love how the edition I own has praise for her that includes spellbinding, item of black magic and sorcery and that is all for the style of the book not the plot. She is capable of hooking you from that first page so you just have to keep reading, you have to know what is going to happen next. She also holds the rare distinction of being a modern writer of horror that still has her works considered as classics and is taught in high school English classes. Unlike some classics that are incredibly hard to get through, her novels and short stories are entertaining. People do pick them up just to read them for fun but like truly great works of art they can be seen on so many levels. On that first level we have a merely unsettling mystery of poisoning but deeper down one can talk about the metaphors and themes of the book from agoraphobia to family, society, love and happiness. So did seek this one out and read it, if it be for just a chilling mystery novel or for all the other treasures that are buried within it.

Our story is told in a narrative by eighteen year old Mary Katherine Blackwood, more commonly called Merricat, the majority of it is told in a flash back. Merricat lives with her sister Constance who hasn't left the house in six years and her uncle Julian who is suffering from old age and dementia. Constance cares for both Merricat and Julian who is constantly writing and re-writing notes for his biography that he says he is going to write. Merricat is the only one that leaves the house, she travels to town once a week to get groceries and library books. It comes out slowly through Uncle Julian's ramblings that six years ago most of the Blackwood family including Julian himself were poisoned with arsenic in the sugar. Merricat had been sent to her room without dinner and Constance had not eaten any sugar. Both of the Blackwood parents, an aunt and a younger brother were killed in the incident. Constance was accused of murder, stood trial only to be released because of insufficient evidence. The entire town believes Constance killed her family. Merricat is somewhat obsessive/compulsive and believes in magic to protect herself and her beloved Constance. When one of these protections - a book nailed to a tree, falls down, Merricat is convinced danger is coming. Danger does come in the form of a distant cousin Charles who is clearly only after the Blackwood fortune. This is a wonderful story which manages to be creepy, compassionate and sad all at the same time. It is a great mystery and psychological thriller - highly recommended.

Also do check out the very great cover art on this one by William Teason who also did several of the Agatha Christie covers.

Why I love the Mystique Books

2008-11-19T11:24:00.000-08:00

Most people who pass by these books at a garage sale or flea market will not even give them a second glance. Most people lump this series of novels together with the massive output and sometimes quality lacking books from Harlequin. Well they are right on one point but they are wrong about so much else. The Mystique novels were published by Harlequin between the years 1977 and 1982 but these are not normal Harlequin fare. These books are all written by French authors and were originally published in their own home country by the Librairie Jules Tallandier under the Cercle Romanesque Romans line or in English the Romantic Circle Novels. Many of these date back to the 50's and 60's. The majority are romantic suspense novels but many of them are pure Gothic.

Nowhere on a Mystique novel will you find this information except for a few small clues from the copyright but Harlequin did create a genius cover design and logo for them that points back to their French ancestry. Notice the Mystique logo is a small Eiffel Tower behind the French flag and also that the same French flag is carried around the book above the cover picture. The Mystique name itself is also a nod back to their origins. All of the cover pictures are designed by a formula which makes identifying one of these very easy. Our heroine is pictured up close and then around her in a sort of collage are main events or items from the story. I have yet to figure out who did all these covers but I have a suspicion it was at least two different artists because there does seem to be some differences in the style.

These books have been extremely fun to read and even more of a challenge to research because most of the information is in French. I've had to resort to using google.fr and utilizing translators to figure out pseudonyms of authors. You will see more of these popping up here as I have a few on the "need to read" list. For collectors, these are extremely easy to get a hold of books and they come cheap too! Since most people wrongly categorize these as just more Harlequins they end up in the quarter bin more often than not and turn up in large lots on Ebay. There are 164 books in the Mystique series and I think I almost have a complete collection.

Alternate Cover for The Tragedy of Sutterbury Manor

2008-11-18T07:41:00.000-08:00

Cindy's tale was so popular it was republished by Crest, this time with a cover design by the great Karswell of The Horrors of It All. Visit the great writing talent - Cindy at Garnet Night. And if you haven't already, read her awesome winning entry in the Gothic writing challenge, part one here and part two here.

The Tragedy of Sutterbury Manor - Part Two

2008-11-17T14:19:00.000-08:00

And now for the exciting conclusion of The Tragedy of Sutterbury Manor - and if you haven't already read part one - go here and do that now! Also thanks to fellow Gothic addict Barrymore Tebbs for giving Cindy her own cover!

'It's got to be coming up soon!' I thought desperately. 'I can't have passed it!'

My father had taught me to 'always pay attention,' particularly as travel and directions were concerned. And when Gerard had navigated me through this tunnel a few weeks ago, I'd paid attention. But of course we hadn't traversed it out of fear for one's life; we'd been together, both possessed of strong flashlights with fresh batteries, and Gerard definitely knew his way around.

The fear of getting lost down in this dark, dank tunnel renewed a near panic of claustrophobia. But the estate wasn't extremely vast; surely at some point I'd simply wind up at some other door. But that door would lead into the house...and I definitely wanted to avoid that at all costs.

I trudged on. Then the flashlight's low-density red beam wavered. I cursed under my breath. "No, please, don't go out!"

I had no choice but to leave it on. There could be no sparing of the batteries; without it, I'd be completely blind.

And then I stumbled. I caught myself, but not before hearing a sickening crunch. I'd stepped on something fragile. But what?

I shone the red beam onto a small wrinkled mass of black cloth. I frowned while instantly recalling Gerard and I having passed it. He'd been surprised, had lifted its edge and then it'd seemed as though a measure of disgust and shock briefly disturbed his handsome features. "I'll clean this up later," he'd murmured without bothering to remove the cloth to allow me a glimpse. "Let's move along."

I'd been a bit irked by his sudden bossiness. And suspicious...

Thunder again growled overhead. The drip-drip around me continued. I grimaced as a fat wet drop splashed my shoulder. I stared down at the cloth, wondering if I should.

I hesitated just a moment. What could have caused that sickening crunch beneath my shoe? I warily leaned over, pursed my lips together (disliked touching this cloth/fear of what I'd find) --

A startled cry choked my throat. I nearly dropped the flashlight. With a gulping sob I redirected its beam onto what had been concealed beneath the cloak: A baby's skeleton!

I'd stepped on and crushed one of its tiny leg bones.

I broke down weeping. Whose? When? The baby had been deposited here after death; discarded! A wave of nausea crashed into me.

Gasping and sobbing, I hurried away. Tears stung my eyes. 'Mustn't miss the branch-off tunnel! Must get out of here!' Once safely in town I'd inform the police about the remains of the dead child.

***

Finally! Just when I was dreadfully certain I'd somehow missed the turn, there it was. Heaving a sigh of relief I stepped into the tunnel branch...

...and halted dead in my tracks. I dropped the flashlight; it flickered violently then went dark.

I was shocked to see her standing there, dressed in a white gown, holding a flickering blue candle aloft. She smiled gently.

"Nell!"

We'd befriended each other quickly when I'd arrived at Sutterbury. A geneologist in my profession, I'd been hired to come and reside a while, to help update the family tree with photos and documents. Nell had immediately been attracted to me in friendship. She'd often been a late-night confidant regarding Marcus' interest in me and Gerard's outright advances. She sometimes seemed a bit too friendly, including insisting one evening on sleeping in my room rather than returning to her own. I'd found her request very odd, but it was 3:00 a.m.; the mansion was dark and cold and her suite of rooms was 2 flights up a very drafty staircase.

"Hello Beth."

I smiled. I began to speak when a feeling of trepidation stole over me. She simply stood there, like a statue: Unblinking. As if this were a perfectly normal, routine meeting and nothing amiss had occurred upstairs to bring her here.

I didn't know what to say next. She waited patiently.

Finally I spoke up. "Nell, we've got to get out of here."

"Why?"

An explosion of fear erupted in my gut. I peered more closely at her pretty and serene face awash in the candle's gentle glow. Was it serenity or...insanity?

"Um, because -- well, I simply need to get to town."

"You've picked an odd route for leaving Sutterbury."

I had no choice but to risk taking her by surprise. If she attacked me, I was stronger; likely I could subdue her and still manage to get away. I stepped to the right...then immediately froze upon seeing the gleaming black barrel of a pistol leveled at my heart.

"Oh Nell," I whispered.

She nodded slowly. "Marcus refused my love. And so have you."

"What??"

Marcus was her uncle! And I? I was a woman obviously.

"I wanted you both. And you both betrayed me. I've killed Gerard and I'll kill Marcus when he returns from the nut house."

My head whirled. The dark and ominous walls surrounding us seemed suddenly to be melting, oozing down...ready to suffocate me. The smell of death began permeating the oppressively humid air.

"Nell, you're not feeling well. Let me -- "

A shadow suddenly loomed up behind Nell. She noticed the movement of my eyes. I threw my body to the left just as the shadow pounced on Nell. She screamed. The candle winked out at the same second a deadly flash erupted from the pistol. My ears rang wildly; the pistol shot was nearly deafening.

Cowering against the wall, I panted in terror. I didn't care about slime nor vermin -- all I knew was being trapped in this hellish tunnel with two crazy people!

A blinding light burst forth. Gasping, I squinted. The light flickered briefly on me (no! no!) and then swerved down. I glanced fearfully there and saw Nell's inert body lying on the damp tunnel floor in a circle of light. A huge crimson splotch had bloomed on her abdomen; it continued spreading. She was dead.

"It's okay Beth, it'll be all right." The man held the flashlight away and shone the periphery of its bright beam on himself. "It's me -- Marcus; you're safe, Beth. We all are."

***

I stood huddled next to Marcus as he gave an official statement to the police. Two police cars and an ambulance had arrived; their red emergency lights split the night and washed repeatedly against the somber old mansion like the beacons of distress they were.

The dogs had been contained.

Gerard had survived being shot, thank God. I watched his white-draped form on the stretcher as ambulance personnel loaded him up in the hearse-like vehicle.

Patsy and Niles were sitting in the back of a police car. Patsy was weeping and Niles sat staring at nothing.

Nell was formally pronounced dead. Her still form lay on the porch, draped in black.

The doctor who'd gone into the tunnel to make the pronouncement was still there, now examining and collecting the remains of the dead infant. We'd later learn from Gerard that Nell had been pregant two years ago...by him. Her own uncle! It'd been consentual and he'd believed she'd gotten an abortion. After learning of the illicit pregnancy he'd been so shaken he'd taken off to Tahiti for half a year. The pregnancy had never been discussed in the household and upon his return Gerard had made no inquiries. Marcus -- absorbed at the time in a volatile divorce and the current financial distresses upon the estate -- had been given to believe by Nell that she'd carried the child (father's identity "unknown," much to Nell's disgrace) to term and had surrendered it for adoption. He too had never brought up the subject again and made no inquiries. It'd shocked him to the core to learn of the infant skeletal remains.

I glanced around as Marcus continued speaking with the cop. A night wind was picking up; the thunderstorm was passing off to the west. An occasional crack of thunder set my frazzled nerves on edge again.

Marcus drew a strong, comforting arm about my shoulders. The policeman bent his head down to carefully check something on the clipboard he held; at that moment Marcus surprised me with a warm and passionate kiss.

We parted. I reached my arm about his back and pressed the side of my body more tightly against his. In response, Marcus held me tighter.

As the cop continuing jotting down information Marcus explained to me he'd faked having had a nervous breakdown. He suspected Nell was insane and to the breaking point. By taking himself out of the equation he hoped to slow the process and get the jump on her before she finally broke. He'd nearly been too late. But only nearly.

"So it was you who was stalking the estate? We figured it for a bum new to the area."

Marcus chuckled. His warm brown eyes glittered down into mine in the relentless sweeps of the red emergency lights as officers consulted with each other. He scooped me up for another passionate kiss.

The formal statement process continued. I sighed but waited patiently, letting my attention wander about.

And then a pale white movement caught the periphery of my eye. I gasped, glanced over at Marcus and the cop who were intent on the clipboarded paper and the signing of something. I turned back to stare in disbelief at the phantom watching me benignly from a ground-level window. I began fretfully poking at Marcus' shoulder so he too would turn and see the watchful male ghost.

"What??" Marcus asked in a mildly irritated tone.

He and the policeman turned to follow my gaze. But the ghost had vanished.

***

Six months later I became Mrs. Marcus Sutterbury. Gerard confessed his crime of incest to us. Nothing more was said of it; they'd been consenting adults after all, even if the matter did privately sicken me. Patsy returned to her native New Hampshire, vowing and swearing never to set foot on the Sutterbury estate again. We somehow miraculously retained Niles; I was especially grateful, as he was a marvelous chef.

And I never saw the ghost again.

[ +the end+ ]

Contest Winner - The Tragedy of Sutterbury Manor

2008-11-17T08:24:00.000-08:00

And now for our contest winner - faithful reader and fellow Gothic romance blogger Cindy from Garnet Night - grab a cup of coffee or tea and sit down and read the last chapter of her novel for some great Gothic fun. Cindy, your big box of books is on its way to you as we speak! I've added a nice cover illustration of an unknown novel that was for sale a while back on Ebay. Enjoy!

+The Tragedy of Sutterbury Manor+

[Copyrighted 2008 by C. Bartek-Medina]

November 2, 1964

I froze and stared upwards at yet another violent slamming of a door from far above; from the 4th floor or the attic? Impossible to tell.

Eerie silence. Trembling throughout and heart racing anxiously, I paused and strained to listen. A frightening stillness had enveloped the house; an unnatural stillness.

Then came the loud cracking of a pistol shot. A scream -- abruptly cut off. Another door slammed.

I must get out of Sutterbury Manor -- now! There was no time to return to my room to grab even a jacket.

I hurried for the heavy oaken front door, nearly tripping over Gerard's damned telescope in the process. My arms violently pinwheeled; I stumbled with a curse, but instantly managed to regain my footing.

My trembling hands grabbed the massive door's latch. With a grit of my teeth and a wheeze of desperation I yanked it open, only to face a nightmare: Three of Gerard's Dobermans; snarling, growling, their huge vicious teeth flashing for the attack.

"No!" I yelled, hurling my weight against the door to swiftly shut it again.

I whirled around. My eyes darted to and fro to catch a movement, a shadow. My ears strained to hear a sound, anything.

Nothing in my immediate vicinity. Not yet, anyway.

All the tensions and hatreds and jealousies of the past month in Sutterbury Manor had mounted to tonight's murderous climax. No doubt the nut with the pistol had also loosed the dogs. Who had been shot and killed just now? Nell? Gerard? Patsy? Or perhaps even Niles, the cook? And, most importantly, WHO wielded the pistol?

I hadn't time to discover it nor help. And with a pack of attack dogs roaming the darkened estate there was only one way out of this murderous mansion: The tunnel. Nell had told me about it; Gerard and I had traversed it one lazy afternoon. He'd been smitten with me, but I'd not returned his affections. In this house I'd only befriended Nell.

The tunnel. Could I make my way through it alone, having only passed through it once before? It led to a stone shed on the western edge of the estate, which possessed a safety door leading onto the shallow ditch of a passing county road: Once out that door I'd be on a paved county road and safe from the dogs on the other side of the fence. Then I'd run to town for help, while hopefully avoiding an encounter with the strange man who'd begun prowling the estate a week prior. Marcus would have wasted no time chasing down and apprehending the darkly-clad trespasser; but Marcus was still hospitalized from a nervous breakdown. Gerard was too much a coward to do anything himself but call the local police, who of course couldn't keep watch on the estate grounds day and night.

I began to move from the door when the electricity abruptly went out. My ears buzzed. Could I find my way to the door Gerard had shown me, which led to the tunnel, in this darkness??

The kitchen...matches...candles? I didn't have time!

Flashlight! The flashlight Gerard kept by the telescope, on the wall mount above with the eyepieces and other bits of equipment!

It was a mere leap away. My hands groped in the suffocating darkness for it -- there! I blinked in shock as the electric lights suddenly switched on again. A loud, shrill maniacal laugh from two floors above split the silence.

A chill raced down my spine. My knees went weak. Grasping the flashlight for dear life, I ran for the door which led onto the subterranean tunnel which would lead me out of this madhouse.

***

I stepped nervously into the dank subterranean tunnel. Dozens of thoughts and fears flitted through my mind: Was Nell safe? What about Patsy? Had Gerard finally caved in to whatever insanity afflicted him? The family were unstable; Nell too, though of the three Sutterburys she was the most consistent, poised and controlled.

A straight row of low-wattage bulbs provided meager overhead illumination for the first 100 feet of the tunnel. Humidity and an intense muskiness assailed my nose. The walls were understandably damp; I shuddered with revulsion at the thought of touching one. And how many rats and other vermin thrived and prowled here?

I stepped forward, grateful for the few light bulbs which stretched into the near distance. That thought had only been formulated when they winked out. Muttering angrily from nerves and revulsion at this place, I hurriedly switched on Gerard's flashlight -- only to groan. It was a red-filter flashlight! The one he used to protect his night vision while out with the telescope!

I nearly began crying. This flashlight provided only a fraction of the light I needed! 'Buck up, Beth!' I hissed to myself. It would have to do. Swallowing back tears of frustration and fear, I held the pathetically dimly redly glowly flashlight before me.

The wetness of the walls glowed sinisterly as I passed. The flashlight's red glow only deepened the tunnel's aura of evil.

Wetness dripped from overhead. I inwardly cringed, hoping to dodge the fetid drops of water. The thought of these slimy walls and overhead bricks, how much filth and slime had accumulated over the decades, turned my stomach.

Every sense was on high alert. I listened for furtive footfalls behind me. Though the flashlight's red glow was obviously muted as compared to a regular beam, it still was bright enough to immediately pick me out of the surrounding darkness.

This would not be a good time for the alleged mansion ghost to put in a surprise appearance. All family members swore to the authenticity of the haunting. On the 14th of October near 11:00 p.m. I'd seen something in the 3rd floor hallway which looked ghostly; but I'd only caught a glimpse of it and chalked that up to weariness.

An ominous rumbling sounded overhead. I paused and listened. The rumbling came again, contrasted to the foreground drip-drip of moisture in the tunnel.

Thunder. It must be, though it seemed the growling of the old mansion's bowels: Bowels I was currently deeply within. An acute pang of claustrophobia gripped me. The weight of all of Sutterbury Manor was directly overhead. It seemed the huge old mansion might crumble down on top of me, smothering me alive beneath its many tons of debris.

I tried shaking off the ominous claustrophobic dread. I partially succeeded and continued forward. Must not miss the left-ward turning branch.

***

-=Look for Part Two Later-=

Lazy Friday

2008-11-14T08:56:00.000-08:00

Today is Friday and I'm feeling lazy so since I won't be adding anything thought provoking and exciting here today - go take a look at these other fine blogs I have stumbled upon in my searches. And Monday we will be back with the Gothic writing contest winner! Whoo Hoo!

Wrong Side of the Art - for awesome vintage movie posters!
Holy Cards for your Inspiration - for antique holy card images and prayers - I love old Holy Cards and have a small collection myself.
October Effigies - for creepy hand made dolls - scare the crap out of someone for Christmas!
Deadlicious - one of my favorite new blogs, something different, wacky and awesome every single day!
Phantasmaphile - for cool art and culture
Garnet Night - for more reviews of Gothic Romance novels - and hopefully coming soon cover scans
Sexy Witch - for awesome depictions of witches!
The Glass Guillotine - for creepy and unsettling photos and art
Dark Destinations - Another favorite new blog, for spooky places
No Smoking in the Skull Cave - for just plain fun strangeness
Mundo Bocado - for some great vintage comic and book covers
The Muller-Fokkner Pulpbot - Can't read it but I'm loving the pictures! One of these days when I get more time I'll run it through a translator