So, in
Doctor Who's fiftieth year, we will be getting a new Doctor! Of
course, despite many false starts and rumours, the announcement of
Doctor #12 has yet to be made.
There have, as usual, been numerous rumours in the press about who
the new Doctor may be, but the newspapers and journalist usually take
ounces of truth and spread it thick, adding their own opinions into
the mix until it spirals into, essentially, blatant lies. What we do
know, 100%, is that we are
getting a new Doctor on Christmas Day. And that is it.
The last time Steven Moffat had to
choose a Doctor, he had very clear expectations as to who he wanted.
Not in terms of a specific actor, more a type of actor. He wanted
somebody older, mid-40's, or roundabouts. He ended up casting the
youngest Doctor ever in Matt Smith! Will Moffat have similar thoughts
this time around? Will he, this time, try and find that older Doctor
he wanted back in 2009, before Matt Smith ruined everything by being
so brilliant? Or does he like the idea of somebody young and wild
controlling the TARDIS?
Will the Doctor even be male? The
idea of Time Lords changing their sex is now officially canon, and a
great many actors and actresses have discussed the idea of the new
Doctor being female, even more than before. But should 'he' be
female? I find it hard to believe that the production team would
decide automatically to make the next Doctor a woman, but less hard
to believe that if a lady auditioned for the role, and bettered her
male counterparts, then she would be cast. A lady Doctor would
certainly make things interesting, but the idea, the novelty of him
now being a her would have to be dealt with swiftly, otherwise, ten
episodes in and the Doctor still going, “I'm a woman now, women are
cool!” would be awfully tiresome.
So, who would I like to play the
Doctor? I would certainly prefer an older actor this time around, and
perhaps somebody I have never heard of. Somebody who can fully
embrace the character of the Doctor, in the same way that Matt Smith
did. There is a lot of controversy about certain actors at the
moment, in particular, Daniel Rigby, of the BT ads. But I have given
up saying who I want, or what I want. Because the last time I did
that, we got somebody who totally confounded my expectations, and he
was excellent. So if the next Doctor is another youth, I will have to
put my trust in Moffat to find the right youth. He did it in 2009.
Whatever happens, 50 years after Doctor Who's conception, we are getting a brand new Doctor. And that is still the most exciting thing ever, whoever he or she may be.
Formed in
2010 by Liv Decay and Oly 'Sinnister' Sinn, Raizing Hell (whose
line-up is completed by Mr. Zombie on guitar and Demented Vlash on
bass) are finally ready to unleash their first full-length album to
the world. Titled 'Of Ghouls and Men', it is a worthy addition to the
new wave of horror punk, and something very different.
The album goes for the jugular right from the off. There are no
lengthy guitar solos or moments of deep introspection here. This is
straight-up, pounding shock'n'roll, with the spirit of old-school
punk and a vocalist who could almost be described as an evil Dolly
Parton!
'We Are Raizing Hell' opens the album, and is a great
self-referential tune in the style of Motorhead's 'We Are Motorhead'.
Kicking off with some seriously frantic drumming, the song explodes
with Mr. Zombie's razor-sharp riffage and the thundering bass of
Demented Vlash in a way that the 'Head would most certainly be proud
of. Liv Decay rasps through the song like she's channelling Lemmy
Kilmister himself, although her trademark hollar is present and
correct.
'(Do It) All The Way' is next, a vicious edge to the riffs here that
is reminiscent of the Murderdolls. Liv too, manages here to sound
like a female Wednesday 13, although she switches to the softer
melodies with ease, lending the tune a welcome depth. This is another
instant of the band taking their influences, and bending them to suit
their own style, instead of just copying and imitating.
'Love To Hate' is a schizophrenic combination of bluesy beats and
insane speed. The juxtaposition emphasises the heavier moments as
well as the softer, more haunting parts of the song, threading the
elements together rather beautifully.
It is at this point that I started to consider the bands' name –
'Raizing Hell'. 'Of Ghouls and Men' is just one huge party, and the
band really do live up to their name. 'Thing For Murder' is a case-in
point. A modern pop-punk guitar riff and Decay's country-and-western
style singing make impossible NOT to dance, especially during the
chorus!
'Shining' – a special song for the band – is altogether heavier,
almost metal, to begin with. Demented Vlash's shark-attack bass intro
leads into some serious axe-work (look at the song title-pun
intended!), before progressing into a haunting, yet catchy, tune that
could easily have appeared on the Misfits' 'Famous Monsters' album!
'Shining' yet again shows the band bending their influences, shaping
them around their own music, and the beautiful chorus and lyrics are
an absolute must for all the horror fanatics out there! A stand-out
track!
'One Way Road' is a proper highway punk anthem something to blast out
when your speeding off into the sunset (or dreaming about speeding
off into the sunset), while 'Terror Television's' cry of “Kill or
be killed!” is a call-to arms to maniacs everywhere.
'Invasion of the Infrasluts' switches from horror to cheesy sci-fi –
a foul-mouthed tyraid of lunacy with an uber-fast chorus, and
terrifically old-school guitar riffs. Think the Misfits' 'Teenagers
From Mars', but a hell of a lot more insane, and you're halfway
there.
Call it dark-pop, anti-pop, or whatever, but 'Cemetary Bash' is a
weird mix of creepy lyrics and a beautifully sung chorus that is
almost Shania Twain in it's essence (not a bad thing)! Liv Decay
isn't afraid to show off every facet of her amazing voice, and Oly,
Mr. Zombie, and Vlash all rise to the occasion with murderous ease.
And speaking of murderous ease, just when you think the band have
exhausted their potential for any more epic horror punk anthems, they
give us 'Rock'n'roll For The Dead'. Essentially a
country-and-western-meets-hard-rock riot, this stand-out track
transcends genres in a way that horror punk has never really dared to
before, and will likely have the fans in the audience jiving and
grooving more than just headbanging! An absolute corker of a song!
'Of Ghouls and Men', like all parties, has to end sometime, and this
album closes with flair. Not, as expected, a homage to 'Dawn of The
Dead', 'Zombie Nation' is actually an attack on the mindless sheep of
society, glued to reality television and following the crowd. It's
about the need to be individual, to make your own way in life, and
with the intense riffage, rumbling bass, rolling drums, and a big,
singalong chorus, 'Zombie Nation' summarises the whole of 'Of Ghouls
and Men' in three and a half minutes, and leaves you craving more!
'Of
Ghouls and Men' is one hell of a debut album! Each musician
approaches their instrument with confidence and skill, and Liv Decay
stands apart from all the other female vocalists out there by daring
to be different. Raizing Hell have a fantastic core sound, and yet
they aren't afraid to experiment, and think outside the box.
'Of Ghouls and Men' wasn't made to be analysed and dissected. It was
made to blow your balls off. Buy it, turn it up to 11, and have the
best horror party this side of Halloween. If you like horror punk,
you will LOVE this!
This book is a must-have for any fan of horror, or, in particular, Vincent Price. It is full of fabulous stories, some well-told, some less-so, and hadme laughing out loud on several occasions.
'The Price of Fear' is much more than an observation on Price's horror films. It takes us right back to the beginning, with some excellent anecdotes from his live stage plays and love of artwork. Of course, his relationship with horror is well-covered too! Look out for his retort during the filming of 'House of Long Shadows', when a live bat flies into the building and halts the recording!
So, content-wise, this book is lavish. It could have been much longer. I would have liked to have read more about Price's first film with Tim Burton, on 'Vincent', and his appearance on Alice Cooper's excellent 'Welcome to My Nightmare' album. But on the whole, there is lots to love here.
It is the editing that BADLY lets it down. Joel Eisner's love of Price is evident throughout, but the text is rife with all kinds of punctuation errors, literally on every page. Clumsy sentence structure, wrong words ('latest' instead of 'lasted', for instance), opening brackets but not closing them, erratic use (or none use) of commas and italics, and long-drawn-out full synopsis' of every film mentioned...the list goes on. Also, the picture quality on the inside photographs and images is awfully faded, making the book look cheap and scrappily produced, like a ten-year-olds fanzine instead of a credible book condoned by the man himself! Several pages even came loose in the book, enhancing the cheaply-made status of it! The book has been in the making for along time, and while I am sure Eisner and his publishers would have wanted it to be released as soon as possible, it really really REALLY could have done with a few redrafts, and an editor (there is no mention of an editor on the inside page, to my knowledge). Editing is a crucial part of the writing process, and it is the one that lets this book down.
But if you are a Vincent Price fan, ignore all that. It will bug you, irritate you at times, but it does not prevent the enjoyment of what must have been a total labour of love for Eisner. From the excellent and beautiful foreward from Peter Cushing himself, to a final look at the Dr. Phibes films that never were, 'The Price of Fear' is well-worth a purchase. Even if it *did* need an edit!
It's
Saturday night, and the only place for any self-respecting metalhead
or rocker to be is Nottingham's Rock City. May 11th proved
to be a riotous night of singing and headbanging, not just from the
headlining act, either!
Rock City has always been my favourite gig venue. Small enough to
offer an intimate atmosphere between band and fan, but big enough to
give the bands and the fans ample room to play, headbang, mosh,and
drink, it really is the perfect place to let loose. And my word,
Saturday May 11th, there was a hell of a lot of all of the
above – with added monsters...
HOSTILE – Jay Mills (Vocals), Jack Young (Guitar), A.J. Mills
(Guitar), Alex Hill (Bass), Gunga (Drums)
The opening band on tonight's bill was Hostile. A UK band heavily
influenced by Pantera, Hostile are part of KK Downing (ex-Judas
Priest)'s project to bring metal back to the so-called Black Country,
where the genre was born. Not only did he produce their record 'Eve
of Destruction', but he also wrote a song for the band –
'Addiction'. *
The band put on a solid performance, with much shredding and
headbanging. Vocalist Jay Mills prowled the stage like a younger
version of Phil Anselmo, while behind him, Gunga beat the shit of his
drumkit. Although many Lordi fans have a love, perhaps even a
preference, for old-school metal, Hostile had no problem winning over
the Nottingham crowd, and provided the first sing-a-long anthem of
the night, shortly after running through the excellent 'Addiction' –
a well-timed rendition of the Priest classic, 'Breaking The Law'. A
solid performance from a band who I expect to be hearing a lot more
from, very soon...
*On a side note, bassist Alex Hill's dad is Ian Hill, the bassist for
Judas Priest!
KALDEON – Alexe Mele (Lead Guitar), Marco Palazzi (Vocals), Paolo
Lezzioli (bass), Tommy Nemesio (Rhythm Guitar), Massimiliano Santori
(Drums), Daniele Fuligni (Keyboards)
Kaledon, an Italian power metal band, were next on the set. The band
performed as five-piece on this tour, as keyboardist Fuligni wasn't
present. While this might have affected the scope of the show, it
didn't hinder the band in any obvious way. They tore through a
brilliant set, despite a muddy sound at the start, and gave a lively
performance. Although there were a few technical issues, when
Lezzioli's bass broke, the band just made a joke out of it and
soldiered on.
Cut from the same cloth as Stratovarius (and there are some
connections within the band) and Rhapsody, Kaledon's 30-minute set
featured fast-paced, upbeat power metal tunes, providing a nice
contrast to the groups on before and after them. It was a funny,
ripping show that kept the audience entertained, which is no mean
feat! I really hope Kaledon come back around again, maybe on their
own tour, so we can appreciate them in all their glory!
LORDI –
Mr Lordi (Vocals), Ox (Bass), Mana (Drums), Amen (Guitar), Hella
(Keyboard)
Now it was time for the main attraction. After the stage had been set
up, the lights went down, and the immortal KISS song 'God of Thunder'
was blasted out of the speakers. The atmosphere was electric, and it
intensified when KISS morphed into the instrumental tribute to late
drummer Otus: 'Otus' Butcher Clinic'. Lordi had arrived.
After the intro, the band exploded into 'We're Not Bad For The Kids
(We're Worse)', from their latest record, and all hell broke loose.
Seeing Lordi live is an experience that will stay with you forever,
and catching that first glimpse of them on the stage is just
incredible. Ox and Amen gave it hell, while Hella's twitchy
psycho-doll routine added a layer of creepiness to the metallic
shenanigans. The song was held up nicely by Mana's utterly relentless
drum-bashing, and Mr. Lordi himself was on fine form, screaming like
a demon posessed.
New quickly gave way to classic, when the band revisited their
break-through album 'The Arockalypse' for song 2 – 'Bringing Back
The Balls To Rock'. Singing (shouting? Screaming? Roaring?) along to
“Hail in the name of rock and roll!” on a Saturday night with
Lordi is about as perfect as a gig can get. And it had only just
begun!
'The Riff', the main single of 'To Beast or Not to Beast' was very
well-recieved, driven by Hella's catchy keyboard theme, and the
soaring guitar-work of Amen. It must be a great feeling for a band to
hear people singing along to their new material as well as the older
stuff. A sign that they have still got it!
'Who's Your Daddy' and 'Girls Go Chopping' follow, the latter
accompanied by two PVC-clad strippers grinding sparks on stage. And
that was only the start of Lordi's on-stage shenanigans. Their stage
show on this tour was brilliant. We had Ox chopping off the head of a
guy in a cloak, and Mr. Lordi shooting cold smoke at the crowd, or
blasting water from a chainsaw water pistol (yes, really). My
absolute favourite moment was during Hella's solo, though.
She was playing a beautiful tune on the keyboard, and then she would
suddenly start twitching, bashing her hand on the same note over and
over. Being a toy doll, somebody had to come on stage to fix her.
This happened a few times, before the technician actually removed
her head! Even better, while the technician held Hella's head in his
hands, we could see Hella's headless body still playing the keyboard!
It was clearly done with mirrors, but it doesn't matter. It looked
absolutely fabulous, and highlights just how much effort the band put
into their show.
All the band members had their own
solo spots. Amen had a wonderfully creepy guitar solo, with moody
lighting and a big wheel spinning beside him as he shredded. Ox gave
us a groovy and very heavy bass solo, while Mana did a wicked drum
solo that was relentless in its intensity. I can't wait to hear what
he brings to the next Lordi record!
The setlist itself was excellent, a
nice mixture of old and new. 'Blood Red Sandman' was followed by
'Schizo Doll' and the slow, Sabbath-y 'Something Wicked This Way
Comes', before tonight's only ballad, 'It Snows In Hell', echoed
around the hall, as snow-like foam fell from the ceiling.
'I'm The Best' was another new song
brought to life, and Mr. Lordi stole the show when he was given a
bunch of flowers and a tiara to wear. Camp as Christmas, it was a
delight to watch him giving his all as a beauty queen winner as the
band played around him. Hilarious, and fun.
That is the essence of a Lordi show. Fun.
Aggression, headbanging, screaming...and having a bloody good time.
Once 'The Devil Is a Loser' ended the main-set, I realised that the
time has gone nowhere.
The final encore comprised of two
classic Lordi songs, a new song, and a very special treat: 'Hulking
Dynamo'. This song was supposed to be on their first ever record,
which wasn't released to the world until last year, but ended up
being cut. It was included as a bonus track on last year's released,
and is perhaps one of the oldest and rarest Lordi songs the band have
ever performed live.
We
then get 'Hard Rock Hallelujah', the quintessential
Lordi tune, and yet another one that threatened the vocal chords.
'Sincerely With Love' came next, inciting much shouting of “Fuck
you asshole!”. And finally 'Would You Love a Monsterman?', complete
with the PVC-strippers eating fire, and Mr. Lordi shooting confetti
into the crowd.
Saturday
night's show was one of the best gigs I have ever been to. Great
supporting bands, and a flawless set from the main attraction. Lordi
get a lot of criticism in the press, and I just think that if they
all went to see the band live, they'd shut up. Lordi are at the top
of their game right now, and I know that the sky is the limit for
this monster metal band. One day, the legends of shock rock will no
longer be with us. On that tragic day, we will need somebody to step
up and take the mantle. Lordi are absolutely that band.
11/10
*
I was lucky enough to get the chance to interview Lordi's drummer, Mana. You can hear the interview on Tuesday, May 21st, at 7PM UK Time, on Heavier Than Time! See you there!
A brilliant show called
Metal Evolution did an interview with Dave Mustaine, asking the
Megadeth guitarist and vocalist if he still considered his band to be
a 'thrash metal' band. Mustaine's reply was in the affirmative.
Megadeth are a thrash metal band, he said, but we're also so much
more.
The
Thirteen Shots are a horror punk band. But they are so much more.
Rising from the darkness to give the ancient genre of horror punk a
kick up the skeletal backside, their début album, Vaudeville,
gained rave reviews from all corners of the alternative music scene,
including the legend that is Michale Graves (and if you don't know
who he is, leave the hall. Now!).
A
year later, The Thirteen Shots have released their follow-up to the
8-track attack that was Vaudeville,
beautifully titled Tales That Start With a
Whisper.
It's a brilliant album. It's a horror punk album. And it's so much
more...
The
opening track, 'Death Jam 2000', kicks off with hoards of cheering
fans and a grand announcement, before the music kicks off. It's a
seriously catchy song, combining horror punk with 1960's rock and
roll, and dare I say it, the tiniest hint of heavy metal. A
fast-paced rocker that is short in length and directly acknowledges
the band itself – We could be talking 'Death Jam 2000' or 'We Are
Motorhead' here. Izzy's guitar really powers this tune, with a
delicious driving riff. The Thirteen Shots grab you by the balls from
track 1, and they don't let go!
'Zombies
From The USSR' is a bonkers tune, the catchy garage-rock music backed
up with some splendidly silly lyrics. It was a good choice as the
album's big single, and the music video that accompanies it is
brilliant too. Let's face it, we all love zombies, don't we?
'Bewitched'
is a straight-up horror punk song, with a heavy bass sound courtesy
of 'GMT', and frantic drumming from the ever-brilliant Chelsea. The
riff, the chorus, and Johnny Rose's howling vocals invoke classic
Blitzkid, with a nice Thirteen Shots twist, and a haunting dose of
Gothic. 'Bewitched' is definitely a stand-out song for me, and
belongs in any essential horror punk play-list.
'Psycho
Jukebox' kicks things up a notch, returning to the cheeky,
tongue-in-cheek swinging grooves of some of the Thirteen Shots'
earlier work, combing swinging garage-rock, rock and roll, and even a
dose of indie! This song should be played in every horror-punk and
Goth club, at every Halloween party and event, so catchy and upbeat
is it. This is the sound of a band who are having a blast, and you're
invited along to their insane shenanigans! A song to dance to, and
maybe kill to, as well!
'Get
In My Crypt' has a heavy main riff that instantly brings to mine
Graves-era Misfits...and then it all goes crazy. Just when you think
you have a handle on the record, it throws you in a totally different
direction. Heavier than 'Psycho Jukebox', but less melancholy than
'Bewitched', 'Get In My Crypt' is an ode to living it up on the dark
side. Paying tribute to Zombina, Dracula, Zombies and all things that
go bump in the night, this is a battle-cry for Horror Punks
everywhere. The song also has a KILLER guitar solo, and delightful
backing-vocals, and it's a wonder how any band could pack so much
into two minutes and thirty-four seconds. But they pull it off
admirably. Another stand-out track, another one for that 'Essential
Horror Punk Play-List' I was talking about earlier.
'Nekro-Sexual'
is groovy, groovy song. The lyrics are hilarious, and Johnny Rose is
once again on fire here. Riffs, solos, pounding drums, and
bone-shaking bass, 'Nekro-Sexual's cry of “Stomp on my balls!”
will lodge itself into your head, and you will humming the tune for
weeks. This album really does lay it on heavy, all killer, no filler.
Fast songs, slower songs, heavy songs, softer songs, but the variety
really brings it to life. Or un-life. Or [INSERT UN-DEAD PUN HERE].
You know what I mean.
I
have been reviewing this album in track-list order. The final studio
track of the album, 'Tales That Start With A Whisper', is more than
just a beautiful title. The catchy riff (this album is chock-full of
them), the Wednesday 13-esque tongue-in-cheek lyrics, the
fist-pumping chorus...As you listen to the album, you choose a
favourite song. And then you hear another, and you change your mind.
And then you reach the end of the record and hear the title track,
and you realise that the awesomeness never ends. A glorious song
about the state of Vampires today, a serious issue for us proper
horror fans, 'Tales That Start With A Whisper' is simply incredible.
As mentioned earlier, Johnny Rose is letting out his inner Wednesday
13 where the lyrics are concerned (“They're horny old men searching
for a fuck!”), but although the Thirteen Shots' influences are
clear, they have their own identity, an identity that has evolved
through the course of two brilliant albums and endless touring.
'Tales That Start With A Whisper', the song and the album, is a clear
statement of who the Thirteen Shots are. Talented, original, and full
of surprises, and more than capable of creating a record that never
disappoints.
'Tales
The Start With A Whisper' is a must-buy for any serious horror-punk
fan, any metalhead with a love for horror, anyone really who is
looking for a good time. Lyrically fantastic, musically flawless, and
vocally deranged, this is one record you will want to take with you
to the grave. In an age where horror punk has become rather stale and
predictable, the Thirteen Shots have injected new life into this
Frankenstein Monster of a genre.
The
Thirteen Shots are a horror punk band. But my God, they are so much
more!
STANDOUT TRACKS:
- Death Jam 2000
- Bewitched
- Get In My Crypt
- Nekro-Sexual
-Tales That Start With A Whisper
THE BAND:
Johnny Rose – Vocals
Izzy – Guitar/Backing Vocals
GMT – Bass
Chelsea - Drums
FOR FANS OF:
Raizing Hell, The Misfits, Wednesday 13, Astrovamps, Blitzkid, The Creepshow
The
Church hall glistened in the sunlight, golden rays beaming proudly
through the grand arch windows. Assorted guests chattered excitedly
in the polished pews, the only clue to recent catastrophes expressed
by the slightly torn and tattered state of their clothes.
Hurst
stood at the front of the hall before the Reverend and his stand, his
head held high and proud as he gazed out at the clear blue sky.
Reverend Bradshaw admired the man's courage, his bravery, and his
presentation. Apart from a tiny bruise above his left eye, and a hint
of stubble, Hurst looked immaculate. His black suit had neither a
tear or a scuff on it, and the silver ring sitting in the palm of his
right hand was as smooth and pure as the love that it embodied.
And,
perhaps, the loss.
It was
tradition for the best man to hold the ring, but Jake hadn't made it.
In the comforting warmth of the Church Hall, Hurst thought about his
late friend. Despite everything, Jake had made sure Hurst had got the
ring on time, sacrificed everything for the sake of his friends'
happiness. His final act of friendship would never be forgotten.
It was
the absence of Jake, and the distant, constant moans and screams from
outside that reminded everybody in the Church of what was happening
out there in the world. But everything else was perfect. As stupid as
it seemed, Hurst was almost grateful.
His
wandering thoughts died away with the chatter of the guests, as the
great wooden doors creaked open from behind them.
Hursts'
mouth dropped open at the sight of his bride-to-be as she ended the
grand hall. Her dress was as white as snow, undamaged and pure, and
in hiding her feet, it gave the impression that she was gliding down
the aisle. Her blonde hair shone like it was magic, and her beaming
smile defied the faraway sounds of chaos from the world beyond.
As Elena
floated down the aisle, Hurst noted the bouquet of vivid red roses
clutched tightly to her chest. How hard they must have been to find,
with the country as it was. Impossible, and beautiful. His stomach
was a knot of nerves and excitement, and as Elena reached his side,
he noticed her giggling. He realised it was because he was drooling,
and he awkwardly wiped his mouth on his sleeve, turning a shade
redder than the roses she held in her dainty hands.
Reverend
Bradshaw cleared his throat, ready to begin the service. It had been
agreed by everyone that the vows and ceremony would be shortened, so
that everybody could move on as swiftly as possible. As he began, a
wave of relief and genuine happiness washed over Hurst.
“We are
gathered here today, in the sight of God, and in the face of family
and friends, to join together Elena and Hurst in holy matrimony.”
Hurst
took a moment to gaze around at the assembled masses who had managed
to make it. Family and friends, determined to support he and Elena
and maintain the traditional British stiff-upper lip, even if the
world outside had gone to Hell. They'd all been through so much, lost
so much, yet here they were...A tear blossomed in the corner of his
eye, and he turned back to Elena.
The
Reverend continued.
“Do
you, Elena, take Hurst to be your lawful, wedded husband?”
“I do,”
she replied, her emerald eyes flashing with love.
“And do
you, Hurst, take Elena to be your lawful, wedded wife?”
There was
a sudden creaking crash as the heavy church doors burst open again,
tearing up the calm atmosphere. The guests screamed in their pews at
the ungodly sight in the doorway, at the shuffling beast that had
found its' way into the building. The creatures' dead, pupil-less
eyes surveyed the scene around it, two grey arms outstretched as a
rasping groan gurgled out from between a pair of rotting lips.
In a
heartbeat, Hurst whipped out a handgun from the inside pocket of his
suit, and blasted the creature right between the eyes. It fell dead
to the ground, and a pair of men who had been standing by the doors
hurriedly tossed the corpse outside.
After the
ringing blast of the gunshot faded away, the guests broke out into a
round of applause and cheers. Hurst smiled, and stared right back
into the eyes of his beloved.
He
stuffed the gun back into his pocket, and slipped the silver ring
onto one of Elena's soft, beautiful fingers.
“I do,”
he said, the tears in her eyes matching his own, as they embraced.
***
WEDDING TOAST: For Anna and Michael, may you have a magical wedding and a happy, exciting future together! All the best, Cory John Eadson (aka @Evermore_Evil)
JOIN THE Dark Fairy Queen Writerly Bridal Shower HERE:
Rest In Peace, James Herbert. An expert of crafting pulpy horror,
like a British Steven King, with one foot in the gory B-Movie tradition. A
master of the macabre, who many have imitated, but never bettered.
69 is no age to pass away, and so soon after the beautiful drama 'The Secret of Crickley Hall', based on his novel, and the massive success he had with 'Ash'. But James Herbert has left behind a legacy of horror, and he will continue to terrify generations to come.
