The Lurking Fear | CW Hawes

Terror in the Shadows-Sneak Peek 2

Yesterday, Terror in the Shadows (Pierce Mostyn Paranormal Investigations, Book 3) went live. Pick up a copy or read for free if you’re a Kindle Unlimited subscriber.

I have mixed feelings about having most of my books exclusive on Amazon. But the one thing that is difficult to argue against is making more money. All of my books except for The Rocheport Saga are exclusive to Amazon. Hopefully one day soon I’ll be able to figure out how to make as much money going wide as I do now being exclusive to Amazon. But until that day, exclusive it is.

If you have an iPad, you can get the Kindle app to augment iBooks. That’s what I’ve done. There are also ways to read Kindle books on Nook and Kobo devices. A little Internet research will show you how to do that.

Last week I gave you a sneak peek from chapter 1 of Terror in the Shadows. This week’s peek is from Chapter 6. Enjoy!

***

When the big black SUV pulled into the lot, Mostyn and Kemper saw a big old Pontiac a short distance away, not far from the tree line. The car was bouncing, the squeak of the springs just barely audible.

“Looks like someone’s going for a ride,” Mostyn said.

“Idiots.”

“What? You never did that, Kemper?”

“A car? You’ve got to be kidding?”

“Nope.”

“Forget it. Now what?”

Mostyn put the SUV in park and shut off the engine. “Let’s go for a walk.”

They exited the vehicle, flashlights in hand. The old Pontiac stopped bouncing.

“I guess he scored,” Kemper said.

“Hope they don’t regret it.”

“Now who’s the cynic.”

“Just saying. Babies you know.”

“Gotta point there, Mostyn.”

“This way, Kemper.”

Mostyn cut across the lot on a path that would give the occupants of the Pontiac their space. Kemper was next to him. Their flashlight beams illuminated the asphalt, and when the asphalt ended, the short strip of grass before the woods.

Just before the trees, Kemper hesitated. “Awfully dark in there.”

“That it is. And there may or may not be a bogeyman in there.”

“Yeah, right.”

Mostyn and Kemper carefully picked their way into the woods. Behind them, in the east, a golden moon began coming up over the treetops. They heard the Pontiac start and drive out of the lot.

“Bet they’re wondering whose SUV that is,” Mostyn said.

“Probably scared shitless someone was spying on them and will tell their parents.”

Mostyn chuckled. “Probably.”

Out of the darkness a rock knocked Kemper’s flashlight out of her hand. Mostyn turned his off and they dropped to the ground. All around them they heard grunting and feral sounds. Neither one said a word. Whatever was making the sounds, and there had to be several of them, they were obviously looking for Mostyn and Kemper.

Mostyn touched his pistol to Kemper’s hand and then touched her hand with one finger, followed by a second, and then a third.

Kemper wrote “OK” with her finger on Mostyn’s hand and pulled her pistol out of the fanny pack.

Mostyn tapped Kemper’s hand once, twice, three times. They jumped up, and fired into the darkness.

Several rocks came flying in their direction and Mostyn grunted when one connected with his thigh. And then all was quiet.

Mostyn turned on his flashlight and panned the light and his pistol in a circle around them. Nothing. There was nothing but trees and darkness beyond the flashlight beam.

He squatted down and played the beam of light around until he found Kemper’s flashlight. He picked it up and tried the switch.

“Must’ve broken the bulb.”

He heard Kemper say, “Let’s go.”

He stood and they made their way out of the woods. In the middle of the parking lot, Kemper suddenly stopped.

“What is it, Dot?”

“You know those sounds they were making?”

“A lot of grunts.

“Some were. But most of them…?” She paused, her voice tinged with fear, and turned to face Mostyn.

“Go on.”

“They followed the pattern of speech.”

***

I hope you enjoyed the snippet. Comments are always welcome! And, until next time, happy reading!

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Terror in the Shadows – Sneak Peek

The third Pierce Mostyn Paranormal Investigation — Terror in the Shadows — goes live next week. And today I thought I’d give you a sneak peek. Whet your appetite, so to speak.

Terror in the Shadows draws inspiration from the world HP Lovecraft created for his story “The Lurking Fear”. And as I explained last week, Lovecraft utilized the American Gothic fiction theme of the abhuman for the basis of his story.

The term “abhuman” was coined by William Hope Hodgson in his Carnacki stories, among others. The idea itself growing out of Darwinism. If we came from beasts, how are we not beasts? What is it that makes us human? And can we return to the bestial? Or maybe we simply are beasts hiding behind a veneer of civility.

Today’s sneak peek is from chapter 1 of Terror in the Shadows. Enjoy!

***

Mostyn looked out the window. The country through which they were driving could be described as nothing less than idyllic. Yet in all of the United States there are areas no more remote or unknown than parts of Appalachia. In spite of the relatively low height of the mountains, the region possesses some of the most rugged and nearly inaccessible terrain on earth.

From the beauty of the passing scenery, Mostyn once again turned his gaze back to the report. From the Catskills to Georgia, the same occurrences of cannibalism and human carnage. As abruptly as the Georgia horror had begun, in the 1940s, it had ended, news reaching the Federal government too late for war-stretched agencies to do anything about it. Then thirty years later, in the same area, bizarre tales of cannibalism and of the inhabitants of several small communities being torn apart on dark, storm tormented nights. Only blood and body parts being found in the morning.

And once again, as abruptly as the atrocities began, they ceased, news reaching Federal ears too late for any kind of government intervention. These accounts, along with many others, were passed on to the OUP when it was created. This time, however, word reached Doctor Bardon’s ears almost before it had reached the media. And when it did, Doctor Bardon jumped on it.

Mostyn read about the three reported incidents that had occurred so far this year in West Virginia, the four that had occurred last year, and the one the year before that. Brutal murders. Evidence of cannibalism. Vague reports of hairy, beast-like creatures that walked upright with an oddly human gait.

Around him were the sounds of Baker’s camera, Kemper’s and Cashel’s discussion, and Jones softly singing some ‘80s song. Somewhere out there, in the lush greenery of the hills they were passing through, was a hidden horror, a lurking fear that was terrorizing the people in the vicinity of the hamlet called Heirloom, West Virginia.

Four days ago, in the middle of a wild nighttime thunderstorm, was the most recent occurrence. In the little unincorporated village of Shiloh, located several miles to the southeast of Heirloom, a witness reported seeing at least half a dozen shapes, “things” the witness had called them, come out of the dense forest. That’s all the person saw because he’d found his missing dog and was on his way home.

The next day, however, the entire community quickly became aware of the disaster that had struck in the night. The Ardilla and Bosk families had been murdered in their sleep and eaten. Raw. The perpetrators showed no concern about hiding the dead or of concealing evidence. The county sheriff got numerous fingerprints, handprints, and casts of bare feet. Samples of hair were also collected. The forensic analysis concluded the hair was human, as well as the teeth marks on the bones.

And that’s when Doctor Bardon stepped in and claimed jurisdiction. Mostyn looked at Bardon’s small neat script and read his conclusion:

The incidents in the Catskills and those that occurred in Georgia in the 1940s and 1970s are too similar to these current incidents to ignore. Your mission is to determine the source, assess the danger level, and take appropriate action to eliminate the threat, if a threat exists, to the United States of America.

Mostyn’s gaze returned to the scenery outside his window. Somewhere out there was a horror that had been quietly at work for nearly a hundred years. Perhaps more. A horror hidden in the shadows of this beautiful paradise.

***

I hope you enjoyed the snippet. Comments are always welcome, and until next time — happy reading!

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HP Lovecraft — His Influence

Lovecraft primarily saw himself as a poet. Fiction was, for him, a sideline; something at which he made the occasional buck to supplement his meager inheritance, which he shared with two maiden aunts. Yet, the literary impact of that fiction is huge. As a poet, though, he was mostly mediocre.

The very first Lovecraft story I read was “The Colour Out Of Space”, which Groff Conklin included in his fabulously wonderful Omnibus of Science Fiction. A truly outstanding sci-fi anthology. I read “The Colour Out Of Space” sometime back in the early 1960s when I was in elementary school. And it captured my imagination.

The next time I ran into Lovecraft was in my senior year in high school when I bought the Beagle Books reprints of the Arkham edition of Lovecraft’s fiction and Ballentine’s Fungi from Yuggoth & Other Poems.

One of the first stories I read in those paperbacks was “The Lurking Fear”, which plays on the classic American gothic theme of the abhuman. The abhuman is the degenerate, bestial human. The human that has regressed to a point where he or she no longer functions as a human, but as a beast.

At that time, the theme was new to me and I was fascinated by it. Reverse evolution, as it were. But there’s also the metaphysical question of just exactly what is it that makes us human. Are we angels that are prone to sin? Or are we beasts with but a veneer, a mask, of civility?

In Terror in the Shadows, I explore the abhuman theme by building on Lovecraft’s story. And I give one possible explanation for why the abhuman might come into existence. I’ll give you a hint: it doesn’t have anything to do with a mother’s love, or lack thereof.

There is a wide range of opinion as to Lovecraft’s storytelling ability. There are those who place him second to Poe. There are those who think he wrote drivel. I’m somewhere in the middle. When Lovecraft was firing on all cylinders, he knocked the ball out of the park. The problem is, he didn’t always fire on all cylinders. In fact, a lot of the time he didn’t. He was quite inconsistent as a writer.

From early on, I maintained that Robert E Howard was consistently a better writer than Lovecraft. But when Lovecraft was on top of his game, he was second to none. That’s why I think Lovecraft developed such a devoted following. Other writers saw his rare genius and also saw him as an approachable person, which allowed Lovecraft to share his opinions with other writers and hopeful writers. HPL was one of the 20th Century’s great epistolarians.

I appreciate Lovecraft from the perspective of a reader as well as from the perspective of a writer. Possibly his single most important contribution to the craft of writing is his emphasis on atmosphere. When reading one of Lovecraft’s stories, one cannot escape the mood, the feelings, the details, the colors that all lead to a general feeling of dread. For Lovecraft, the atmosphere was everything. Without it, the tale of terror would be nothing.

But atmosphere is important in all genres of fiction, because it sets the scene. It lets us know what we see and touch and taste and smell. The atmosphere instills in us a general feeling, whether of happiness or terror, joy or dread. Whenever a writer can create an atmosphere that lets me see and touch and smell, I thank Lovecraft.

If character is king in storytelling, then atmosphere has to be the queen.

HP Lovecraft was a literary giant who produced but few gems. But the ones he did produce blind us with their light. I think I’ll stop now and go read once again “The Colour Out of Space” — the story that for me started it all.

Comments are always welcome, and, until next time, happy reading!

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