The Death of the Fuhrer by Roland Puccetti

You know how people are always comparing a wild and crazy book with Stephen King being all coked up in the 70s? Roland Puccetti would have been on a three-day meth binge when he wrote Death of the Fuhrer. To say this book is insane is an understatement.

Written review below. Video review here:

I had never heard of this book even though it gained a huge cult following in the early 2010s due to a few popular blog entries about the book including the infamous Glorious Trash blog. But I wasn’t there for that and after 15 years the fires in the castle walls of Death of the Fuhrer have dwindled. Well, Fathom Press is igniting them once again and I am thrilled to be here for it.

It was originally published by St Martin’s Press in 1972 with a somewhat spoiler cover, so we won’t be showing it. St. Martin’s press was owned by UK based Macmillan and was created for the American market. Death of the Fuhrer is pure paperback original pulp fiction, so I was really surprised to find that there was a hardcover version of this.

Then it looks like Arrow Books in the UK got the paperback rights and published the most absolutely spoiler cover. If you want to read this do not look this up. What were they thinking?

It was then published by Fawcett in 1973 with appropriate cover art. It gives off spy and men’s adventure vibes with a sexy woman at the forefront, two men fencing, a castle on fire in the background, and our hero there on the right about to crash that motorcycle into a surreal journey through World War 2 shenanigans all with Hitler’s stupid face haunting over the entire image. It’s on point.

And now in 2026 there is a brand-new mass market sized paperback edition from Fathom Press with equally appropriate cover art by Stehpen Andrade. Stephen leaned into the more medical horror aspects of the novel which indeed there is plenty. Does this scene actually happen? You bet your brain juice it does.

Fathom’s edition also has an introduction written by Paperbacks from Hell author Grady Hendrix. But I guess it wasn’t ready for the ARCs because mine is blank. But your copy will have it in there.

This book is set to be released in December and is available for pre-order right now on FathomPress.com.

Roland Puccetti was born in 1924 in Illinois, but he lived most of his life out of the states; Paris, Beirut, Toronto, Barcelona, Halifax and Tahiti. He was an Army veteran and fencing champion. He had a doctorate in Philosophy from La Sorbonne University in France. He could speak French, Spanish, Italian and Arabic. He was particularly interested in neuroscience and the meaning of “self.”

So, not a lot out there about the author. All of this I got from Fathom Press’s website. It is wild to me that such a highly educated person wrote this insane wonderfully trashy novel.

On to the review! This is a book that is easy to spoil so I went out of my way not to. Consider this safe and spoiler free to read/listen to.

Our protagonist is Karl Gustav Gisevius, German born but now a US citizen. The story takes place a couple of years after the end of World War 2 where Karl had fought on the right side of history as an OSS agent. OSS being the Office of Strategic Services which was a espionage agency created in World War 2 by FDR and would dissolve after the war was over and become the CIA. In the states Karl sets up his doctor’s practice until retiring to return to Europe as a science reporter for the New York Hearld Tribune in Paris. So, he is a German who saw where the country was headed, got the hell out of there, joined the US military and fought against his birth country.

He meets up with one of his local informants, Raoul, a gay Frenchman in need of money to take his boyfriend to Copenhagen as they are “doing amazing operations these days.” He has information from his neighbor who just happens to be an ex-Russian that was one of the doctors who did the autopsy on Hitler’s body when they found it in the bunker. Now he is on his death bed and doesn’t want to die with vital information.

And what is this information?

Hitler’s brain had been removed from its body.

To say Karl is all in at this point is an understatement. It’s as if someone has set him on fire and the only way to extinguish the flames is to be doused in Hitler’s brain juice. He heads off to the Fuhrer bunker to investigate further. Unfortunately, the Russians have sealed it off… oh wait, what’s this? The ventilation shaft? He climbs down into it. It’s 100 feet of curvy twisty pipe. He gets stuck but luckily his death screams create an avalanche of debris which opens the jammed hatch below him. James Bond, he is not. Now down in the bunker he realizes there is no oxygen and starts to pass out. I have never seen a more reckless main character. What was his plan to get out in the first place? He has no rope. No walkie talkie. No one even knows he’s down there.

So, obviously he’s going to get out, or we wouldn’t have a book. But before he does, he discovers an operating room with an engraved scalpel. The initials say W.T. Of course! My old school chum and fencing partner, Willi Tranger.

If you are bothered by unbelievable coincidences and timely plot conveniences, then this story will drive you up the chimney. Which Karl loves to crawl through. Fellow claustrophobic friends this will be a horror novel for you. He is constantly crawling through very long and very tight spaces.

He does some investigation by backtracking contributions to medical journals and discovers Willi is holed up in a castle in Spain. Which will be our central setting and it is perfect. We’re talking Indiana Jones, we’re talking Where Eagles Dare, we’re talking Wolfenstein. He goes somewhat undercover but as an alternate version of himself where he fought with the Third Reich instead of against them. Willi is actually thrilled to see him and he is treated like an old friend. Willi is, of course, continuing his neuroscience work at the castle along with other Third Reich members who slimed their way out of Germany before being captured.

And there you go; Karl is searching for that brain so he can destroy it. What did Willi do with it? How are they keeping it alive? What is the end goal?

We meet a small cast of supporting characters including a very sweaty and horny Baroness in a skin-tight black leather dress (what else!?) who is interested in having Karl over to her room for some late-night naked German sausage devouring.

Like I said, this is an easy book to spoil but it’s also an easy sell…if I tell you the spoilers. Which I won’t. Let’s just say it’s insane. There may or may not be fight scenes with flopping half opened skulls with brain exposed. Something called brain juice. Couch fucking.

You: Big deal, people banging on a couch.

No. Someone fucking a couch.

For as wild, fast paced, bloody and action packed as it is there is also some interesting ideas on what is self. Where does the true version of you exist? In the neurons and electrical signals and functions of your brain? If one were to remove the brain what personality traits would remain the same? I found an article on the Cambridge University Press website written by Puccetti called, On Saving Our Concept of a Person. Puccetti writes about the split-brain theory which…I’m not even going to pretend I understand. I may have this wrong but from what I saw a split-brain is the idea that there are two consciousness inside of us but the conscious right hemisphere is unable to express its feelings, desires or thinking due a lack of language. While reading the article and the high concept philosophy with actual technical medical knowledge of the brain I cannot believe this is the same guy who wrote this book.

This is a cult classic that lives up to the hype. It is one of a kind. Whenever I am out at the bookshop and see a really exploitative action cover on a 70s/80s paperback this is the kind of book I am hoping it is going to be. It’s so energetic and fun. I don’t think the character sits anywhere for more than ten minutes.

So, what is Death of the Fuhrer?

Is it a thriller? Yes.

Is it philosophy. Yes.

Is it men’s adventure? Yes.

Is it horror? Um, medical horror maybe.

But if I had to give it one genre definition. One shelf to put it on. This is a spy book. Yeah, he’s not technically a working spy but he is former OSS. He is on a mission but one of his own creation. Everything about this is espionage. From the first meeting with his contact Raol in France, to the dying Russian doctor, sneaking into East Germany under false pretenses, and then undercover at the castle in Spain and the bloodshed that follows. The literal fate of the world is at stake if he fails.

And finally, I love that Puccetti made the hero German born man that is so disgusted by what the Third Reich did to his country that he is obsessively fixated on destroying the brain that made it happen. He will do anything, including self-sacrifice, to make sure it never happens again. He could have easily made him a US agent. But he made him German. It’s a tale of revenge.

Sex Pros by Orrie Hitt

This is a brand-new release from Stark House Press who are doing the...Lord’s(?) work by republishing these Orrie Hitt books. It is available right here.

This Wild Desire was originally published as The Passion Hunters in 1966

Sex Pros was the second to last book he ever wrote and was published in 1969 as a Softcover Library double with Mel Johnson’s Love Doll.

Written review below. Video review here:

First off, Sex Pros is a terrible title that has nothing to do with the story contained within. No character in this story is a working pro, although our leading man does visit one. It should have been called Carnival Stripper or Naked Desperation or something a bit more on topic.

Our hunky hero is Eddie. He recently graduated college with a degree in business but instead of being back home to share his bright future with his high school sweetheart Cindy he is working at the traveling carnival boxing random locals for five bucks a pop.

You are probably asking, but how did this happen?

A woman. Duh. This is a sleaze book man! The genre is rife with good natured folks on the path to middle class mediocre contentment who get sidelined either with well-meaning feelings of love to a person intent on self-destruction or to a straight and narrow guy succumbing to his most basic sexual instincts like a junkie who can’t help poking his arms with holes.

For devastating reasons revealed later on, Cindy, Eddie’s sweetheart, the once housewife to be, has taken a left turn, run away from her cozy upper middle-class family and is now jiggling her goods for money in the girlie show at the carnival. Eddie is confounded by this strange turn of events. All the way up until the last months of college they had loving communication and plans for the future. How could wholesome virgin Cindy go from chastity belt to G-string in just a few months?

In order to be near her he joins the carnival as the resident unbeatable tough man. It never states how Eddie is such a good boxer but it is mentioned that he grew up extremely poor so I guess we can fill in the gaps with street fights.

At the carnival Cindy wants nothing to do with Eddie, most of the time. We spend a lot of time in Eddie’s head and the big question is, what is she doing?

The Cindy character appears for short snippets at a time in the beginning but is mostly just a blur on the other side of the carnival or an idea of what Eddie thinks of her. Though he is madly in love and walks around with a broken heart he does take a break to bang Linda, one of the other carnival strippers and Cindy’s roommate, after they have an incredibly written conversation about love and life.

This book is despair incarnate. A reflection of people whose lives didn’t turn out to be what they were expecting. It hits a nerve in the psychological department of anyone who has been down on the bottom for a moment in their lives. It’s very raw and unfiltered with some of the characters essentially being expired food that is only fit for the trashcan.

This does have some of the unfortunate pitfalls of the softcore genre which is now properly labeled Sleaze. Eddie is absolutely disgusted by women taking their clothes off for money and prostitution, right? But during one scene after a fight with Cindy, he gets a prostitute and takes out his aggression sexually. In Cindy’s same hotel. In another Orrie Hitt book I read called The Promotor the protagonist was the same way. He is completely disgusted by what the women are doing but at the same time he’s way into their bodies and has no problem using them in the way that makes him look down on them. It’s bullshit, man!

But yes, the plot is about more than Eddie trying to get Cindy back. In fact, he kind of gives up halfway through. The daughter of the deceased carnival owner shows up. She’s a banging blonde and takes to big Eddie for not only his muscular fighter body but his degree in business. She needs him to help keep the carnival going and to satisfy her physical needs. There is a scummy pimp type hustler who runs the girlie show and is trying to get it in anywhere he can, including Cindy who becomes an absolute train wreck of a drunk.

The atmosphere is all carnival, and it’s written in a way that you are there. Of course, it helps that we’ve all been to one so maybe it’s just nostalgia. Either way, it works. It rains throughout most of the novel which adds to the dreariness. We spend lots of time in shitty hotels, strip clubs and carnival trailers. There are plenty of unsavory side characters and every interaction with a townie belittles the carnie as people. Why do I love bleak books so much?? I just do.

Ultimately Sex Pros was enjoyable and poetic in a way. The sex scenes are all softcore, lots of slapping skin and amusing analogies of intense gratification. It definitely falls into the noir category more than straight sleaze. There is more going on than broken hearts and uncontrollable lust. If you are into folks down at the bottom, who just can’t get it together and their own evaluations on why that is, this is a book for you.

Casting the Runes by M.R. James

Casting the Runes is a short story that first appeared in the collection More Ghost Stories of an Antiquary by M.R. James in 1911. I will also be discussing, though in less detail, the 1957 film Night of the Demon which was based on the story.

Written review below. Video review here:

The story starts with some letters. And boy howdy is it confusing. First off, it’s one sided so you only are getting replies of denied submission. Second, for some reason, in the letter, the association name is blank. Council of the —— Association. So, we don’t even have the context of who the submission is for to help us understand. Third, I don’t know if the man responding is the secretary or his name is last name is Secretary. It’s capitalized and his wife is referred to as Mrs. Secretary. I’ve noticed with these creepy stories from the late 1800s, early 1900s is that they often start very convoluted. You are introduced to people who you think will be the characters in the story but are actually a vehicle for the story being told. I assume it is a written form of the fireside story which before cheap pulps and magazines was how people told these tales. It is jarring for a modern reader, and I’ve learned that it’s best to just go with the flow. Don’t try to figure it out as it’s happening, just keep reading and it will eventually make sense…in hindsight.

So, our antagonist and I think, main character is Mr. Karswell. He is a grumpy eccentric who submits a paper called The Truth of Alchemy to the Council of the —— Association which is denied. He is upset and wants the name of the man who denied him. That man’s name is Mr. Dunning.

Everything is told second hand. If this was a court of law none of it would be inadmissible. This is what his neighbors have to say about Karswell: Nobody knew what he did with himself: his servants were a horrible set of people; he had invented a new religion for himself, and practiced, no one could tell, what appalling rites; he was very easily offended, and never forgave anybody: he had a dreadful face, he never did a kind action, and whatever influence he did exert was mischievous.

It is later revealed that Karswell also wrote a book called - History of Witchcraft and at one point, in order to keep the children out of his yard he invited all the neighborhood kids to his house to show them a lantern slide in which he showed them gruesome realistic images and did spooky noises. The last few slides were of a boy on his property being chased by a horrible hopping creature in white who eventually catches up to the little boy and tears him to pieces.

A story is told of a scathing review that Karswell received for his book History of Witchcraft by a man named John Harrington. Harrington later died in a freak accident where he fell from a tree branch. What was he doing up there? It looked like some manner of beast had been chasing him.

So, as you can see, Mr. Dunning, the man whom rejected Karswell’s paper, may have some trouble coming for him.

The story switches to Dunning’s perspective and here is where I feel the main narrative starts. He sees an advertisement on the train that states, “In memory of John Harrington, F.S.A., of The Laurels Ashbrooke. Died Sept. 18th, 1889. Three months were allowed." He finds it upsetting and inquires about it. After getting in contact with the company’s ad man he is told that no advertisement like that has been submitted so they have no idea how it got there and even more mysterious, the ad has disappear.

While doing research in the Select Manuscript Room of the British Museum he hears someone whispering his name. He quickly turns to look and in the process knocks all of his papers off the desk. He picks them up and is tapped on the shoulder. A man standing there hands him a paper, “May I give you this? I think it should be yours.” Dunning thanks him and later on we learn from the library assistant that the man’s name was Karswell. Oh no! He knows exactly who the man is and has no desire to have further contact.

Alone at home that night in bed Dunning hears the door to his study door opening. He gets out of bed to have a look. I guess “an economical suburban company had decided that their light would not be required in the small hours, and had stopped working, or else something was wrong with the meter.” AKA the lights aren’t working.

He gets back in bed and when he reaches under the pillow and he finds “a mouth, with teeth, and with hair about it, and, he declares, not the mouth of a human being.”

Dunning’s sanity starts to crack. He consults with some friends. He brings up Harrington and the strange ad. His friend states that he should find the brother of Harrington as the man as stated that he suspected something amiss in his brother’s death.

Harrington’s brother Henry tells of his brother receiving a piece of paper from a strange man during a concert he was playing. Upon looking at said paper later on that night he saw that it contained Runes. They quickly go to research Dunning’s Rune paper. The two decide that the evil is in the paper, and to have ownership of it means death. They now realize that they must give the paper back to Karswell to break the curse.

And there it is. Can the two men get the paper back into Karswell’s hands?

So yeah, some fascinating concepts going on here. M.R. James was a medievalist scholar who was known for throwing ancient folklore into his ghost stories. I love the idea of a cursed paper being passed but the acceptor having to willingly accept it. Also, I couldn’t help but notice similarities with the movie The Ring. Person receives cursed item and has a countdown to their ultimate demise unless they can pass it on.

Unfortunately, the story doesn’t have too many visually creepy moments other than the demonic beast face that is only hinted at under his pillow. It’s even creepier as it’s physically impossible, which gives it a real otherworldly feel. I guess there is also the creaking door opening to his study in the middle of the night and the images of the monster in white following the boy in the picture slides and then tearing him to pieces. That visual is super unsettling. But all three were slight mentions of the horror. There is an ominous dread but with the story being so short it really doesn’t have time to build or fully develop.

The movie on the other hand amps up the visuals with the iconic giant demon. At its core it’s almost the exact same plot only more concise at the beginning and way more fleshed out. They change Dunning into a psychologist from the United States named Dr John Holden, who is in town to debunk Karswell. He is a Houdini type character who travels around demystifying the occult by exposing and explaining how they do it.

Holden doesn’t believe in magic, hexes or witchcraft. The characters in the short story do believe in the existence of black magic. In fact, they take it very seriously. I think it makes the story more rich to have the protagonist not believe in it so that way as the story goes they are talking you into it also. If you went into reading the short story and were a skeptic it makes the threat feel less threatening.

Some other changes in the movie include; they make Harrington’s brother a sister, so there could be a woman in the story. That was a good move. In the scene with the neighborhood kids party he isn’t scaring them on purpose, it’s just a regular party and he’s dressed like a clown. He does cause a wicked windstorm but that’s only to show Holden that he’s for real. Karswell’s mother is in it and she’s very ambiguous as to whose side she is on, which is kind of a weird addition but it does give them the opportunity to set up a séance scene which was fun.

So, yeah. Read the story first it’s only twenty pages long. It’s a public domain story so it’s everywhere. I’ll put a link for one of the online postings. The movie is also available for free on youtube. I’ll put that in the description also. If you are looking for an old school creepy story with occult flavor this is it. And the movie is pure old school black and white comfort. Sometimes movies from that era can be a bit slow with too much dialogue but Night of the Demon is perfectly balanced. And wait until you see that demon. It’s iconic for a reason.

Black Samuria by Marc Olden

Marc Olden was born in 1933 in Baltimore and died in 2003 in New York. He graduated from Queens College with a degree in creative writing and history. He had an affinity of Japanese culture and thus trained in martial arts earning advanced degree black belts in karate and aikido.

His first published works were two non-fiction books. One is a biography of Black Panther political activist Angela Davis and the other a study on cocaine in 1970s New York. Through his investigation work he was introduced to many real world DEA and CIA agents which led him to his first fiction series, Narc.

Narc was written under the pseudonym Robert Hawkes and was a nine-book series which lasted from 1973 to 1975. It was a Men’s Adventure crime series about a white Narcotics Agent named John Bolt who kicks ass, gets ladies and takes on drug dealers.

After the NARC series, I’m assuming that Olden was like, why the hell am I writing about a tough white guy when I could be writing about a tough black guy and throw in all of that wonderful knowledge I have of martial arts and Japanese culture? And thus Black Samurai was born.

Black Samurai had eight entries in a two-year span- 1974-75. There was a movie made in 1977 starring Jim Kelly based on the series installment we are reviewing here today. I have yet to see it but Brandon over at the channel Blaxploitation Fanatic says the movie is pretty terrible, and he has 213 videos on his channel about blaxploitation books, movies and music so I’m going to trust his judgement.

Written review below. Video review here:

Robert Sand is the Black Samurai. His backstory is at the age of 21 he enlists in the army. After his first tour of Vietnam, he is on R&R in Japan when he comes upon some drunk US soldiers harassing an elderly Japanese gentlemen. He steps in to defend the man and is rewarded with two shot gun wounds. While lying there bleeding, on the verge of passing out, he sees the old man go full on Mr. Miyagi on the drunk ruffians.

The old man is actually a samurai warrior who takes the kindhearted Robert Sand under his wing and trains him in the art of the samurai. Once he gets out of the hospital obviously.

After the death of his teacher, Sand works in the vigilante business for the former President of the United States, William Baron Clarke aka The Baron.

Thank you, internet (specifically Spy Guys and Gals), because you are not really given this information in this entry in the series. And to add insult to injury we are immediately thrown into an insane battle.

Let’s set the scene.

Sand quietly enters a dark living room. A saltshaker rolls on the table and falls to the floor. A squeaky shrill voice out of the dark proclaims, “I did it!”

“It could be a phonograph record on high speed.” He thinks. “Could be, but it isn’t.”

He is on high alert. His senses straining to comprehend where the voice came from.

Footsteps on wood. It’s coming from the table where the saltshaker rolled from. Into the dim light comes a small figure. Sand realizes, it’s a dwarf, in red leather jacket, pants and high heeled boots. And he’s ugly. Purple lips. Yellow teeth. “He looks like hammered shit.”

The two have a quick conversation. The dwarf is named Reinhardt. He knows Sand’s name, knows who he is and why he’s there. And the reason Sand is there in Paris, we find out during this brief exchange, is to speak with a man named Aumont. But Aumont is now dead squeaks the dwarf. And with that he screams “Now! Now!”

Doors open and shirtless burly black dudes with leopards on their heads charge at Sand. They have metal claws in their hands. They are swinging and slicing. In a very un-Samurai counterattack, Sand pulls out a .45 and blows one away. They keep coming. Reinhardt pulls out a bull whip and yanks the .45 out of Sand’s hand and then he whips again to wrap around his wrist.

The Black Samuria starts to sweat.

“Unbelievable! The thought flashed back and forth across the Black Samurai’s brain. It’s unbelievable, but the thought was a luxury right now. Unless he acted, he’d die. Killed by a dwarf and leopard men.”

And so begins Black Samurai no 6 The Warlock.

I was completely lost by the time we got to the second chapter but that’s all right. I didn’t pick up this book to hear about the injustice of the human soul in existential dread. I picked it to see shit like this bad ass Black Samurai fight flamboyant gay dwarves and black magic leopard men from Africa.

In chapter two it is all explained anyway. We meet the Baron, who is the former POTUS. He now heads his own vigilante organization, and the Black Samurai is one of his agents. We are briefed on Augustus Janicot aka The Warlock. He is an ex-concentration camp nazi now turned black magic cult leader that uses drugs and his power of persuasion to make good people do terrible things. He video tapes it and then blackmails them to get what he wants.

The video that the Baron has Sand watch is extremely gnarly with violent orgies and humans not old enough for orgies but are there anyway who also get cut up and have their hearts eaten by the drug induced blackmailee. Not cool at all thinks the Black Samurai.

The Baron has gotten intel that the Warlock’s next move is to kidnap a promising Vietnam politician and put him through the videotape ringer. But even worse, this Vietnam politician is married to the Black Samurai’s Japanese ex-girlfriend. They still deeply love each other but for reasons cannot be together.

Sand flips and heads off to Paris which is where we came in in the first chapter.

From here we get lots of back and forth with the Black Samurai and the Warlock. The Warlock is a super villain but with an outer appearance of just being a powerful and rich fun party guy. Not much happens here in the middle. Definitely not nearly enough samuraing.

We meet a woman who works for the Warlock named Synne. She is a very sexy black woman from the US who has matching silver hair and nails.

Also working for the warlock is an albino assassin named Percy Bone who happens to be a pederast. By the way, all of the bad guys are either gay or swing both ways and it is not in a flattering light.

Oh wait! One bad guy is a super macho South American cartel guy who is so straight that he beats women while fornicating. Yeah. Olden really goes above and beyond to make these bad guys, bad guys.

And then besides the gay little people assassins who the Warlock has an array of there is also a giant hairy wolfman guy. I don’t know if he’s really a wolfman or just a giant hairy guy. It’s ambiguous. Which is fun.

There is a big action scene with a pretty decent body count but I have to say, against the Ninja Master, it pales in comparison. Like if this was Brett Wallace there would have been 50 bodies. With Sand we get 30. Still good. Still bloody. Still hacking off body parts and grenades and body pieces flying through the air. I guess I was hoping for a little more blitzkrieg and he was a bit more reserved. Which makes sense because the Samurai were the proper honorable soldiers and the ninjas were shady assassins.

Coincidentally, I was reading Ian Fleming’s Live and Let Die at the same time and the similarities did not go unnoticed. The movie came out two years before this book was published so I don’t think it was a coincidence.

The narrative moves pretty quick but there isn’t a lot there. Not that there has to be in a book like this, but it does need a bit more action. It was just ok. It could have used more fight scenes, and I personally would have liked to see Sand using his .45 a little less and sword a little more. The Warlock does zero black magic or occult rituals or philosophical diatribes. He’s just a con artist. Once again, personal preference, I wanted some black magic. He just passes out drugs which hypnotizes people. Imagine the Thugee cult in Temple of Doom but without the atmosphere.

Joyride- Ronald Francis Patrick/ Stephen Crye

Today we are going to be talking about Fathom Press’s recent reissue of an obscure and much coveted horror classic, Joyride by Ronald Francis Patrick, originally published under the pseudonym Stephen Crye by Pinnacle Books in 1983.

Written review below. Video review here:

Pinnacle Books was the mainstream publishing wing of sleaze/softcore publisher Bee-Line Books. Pinnacle is one of my favorite publishers from the 70s and 80s as they cranked out all kinds of fun and exploitative pure pulpy genre fiction so it’s no surprise that they were responsible for giving the world Joyride which is nothing but guiltless fun.

Following the release of the movie Halloween in 1978 the horror movie market was flooded with seemingly supernatural maniac killers out for horny teenage blood. Yes, I know there are many movies before Halloween that one can posthumously credit as a slasher film, the Hershal Gordon Lewis movies, Psycho, the Giallo films, and definitely my beloved Black Christmas, the direct inspiration for Halloween itself. But to me, just my opinion here, all of those movies were steps up a mountain that led to the top and at the top is Halloween where all of those influences converge into one and exploded into a prism in which all of the slasher genre that followed is directly related back to. The slasher template had unknowingly been created and as the 80s rolled in the genre was now exploited to maximum impact for monetary returns on motion picture investments by every low-budget producer out there. And what a moment it was for horror fans. How can such a basic premise repeated over and over be so enjoyable? Like a Ramones riff, the brilliance is in its simplicity and execution and there is no reason to stray too far from the formula. Other than Michael Myers from Halloween who was just born bad, the standard trope of the slasher killer is at one point they were wronged or felt that they were wronged. Years go by and the victim of yesteryear is now an unhinged adult set on revenge, either to the exact people who scorned him or to stand-ins like in Joyride where as a teen he was bullied and now that he is an insane adult, any teenager will do.

As many fans of vintage horror paperbacks have come to realize, a slasher novel is as rare as the killer actually being dead at the end movie. Why is this? In the introduction to this edition of Joyride, Will Errickson from Too Much Horror Fiction Blog and co-author of the horror reference book Paperbacks From Hell, tries to answer this mystery. Which we will leave untouched here as to not steal the man’s accolades. What I will mention from the introduction though is Ronald Francis Patrick’s background; he was born in Richmond Indiana in 1950 and died in 2004 at the age of 54. Will states in the introduction, “it seems he and perhaps his family worked in the funeral business” which is indeed the setting for Joyride. Patrick also worked as an editor in a publishing house which released genre fiction (probably Pinnacle). He wrote one other novel, Beyond the Threshold in 1978 which also has a funeral home setting and a lead mortician character. There is a bit more info in the intro, some speculating and conclusions drawn from Will in which he received by talking to a friend of Ronald Francis Patrick. There is literally no info online about the author so the material in Will’s intro is invaluable.

Let’s talk about the cover art real quick here. The original is boss as fuck and in an unprecedented move on the publisher’s part, the scene is actually from the book. Rare but not impossible in the case of vintage horror. The artists were two Serbian illustrators, Sonja Lamut and Nenad Jakesovic.

The new Fathom Press edition cover art is glorious in its own right with its foreboding blue and blood red stormy sky as the ominous killer Cleats hovers over the open grave. It is painted by Stephen Andrade, yes painted by hand, and guess what? Also, a scene from the book. I appreciate the directness. We’re two for two here.

So now lets talk about the contents.

The book starts with a chapter of our deformed antagonist killing a dog.

I’m sure it was terrible. I didn’t read it. Justin from Fathom Press warned me it was there and that I should probably skip it as he knows my disdain for animal abuse in books. Trusting Justin’s judgement I skipped. I’m assuming it’s supposed to be an absolutely wicked scene to set up just how soulless our killer is. Having not read the scene I didn’t have the killer introduction and I think that made the book more enjoyable. Because in the next chapter when the two car loads full of high school kids pull up to the cemetery gates, I have no idea what fate awaits them. Well obviously, I know they will be slashed but it is more mysterious this way and less of an inevitable countdown. Also, the shock of the first kill isn’t wasted upon a defenseless dog which is only sickening but a human making it more relatable. The killing of a human being puts me in the place of the character and I am now in the story. The killing of the dog is watching from the outside. What I am saying here is two things, 1- skip the first chapter. 2- if you are a horror writer don’t kill animals in your stories. Shit sucks.

So, once again, our story begins with two car loads full of teenagers looking for somewhere to party after their high school graduation practice. They pass by All Saints Hill Cemetery and see a perfect prospect. It’s a massive place filled with many isolated spots and no prying eyes. We meet the kids and get a whiff of their personalities. If you’ve ever seen the 1988 movie Night of the Demons it was very similar to that. The group is an unlikely pairing of jocks, rebels/criminals, virgins, sluts, nerds, a kid and some fat guy named Twinkie.

And right off the bat we get our first kill. One of the girls is a goody goody who knows they shouldn’t be trespassing and after a brief argument with her mismatched friends she has decided to leave and walk the few miles back into town. But when she gets to the gates they are now chained and locked. Even though it will out her friends she goes to find the cemetery warden to let her out. She comes upon a shed with a light on inside. She knocks. There is no answer. What’s this in the bushes? A mutilated dog! She screams and the shed door bursts open. Standing at the threshold is a giant man holding a sickle—that guy on the cover!—who is referred to as Cleats. Because of the shoes he wears. Is there urban lore background of the spooky disformed guy who lives at the graveyard that the kids set up? No. Who has given him this nickname? We don’t know. Look, it doesn’t matter. His name is Cleats and kills kids. Let’s go. She takes off running as he stalks after her and we are balls deep in slasher territory and it just feels so right. She makes it to the fence and tries to climb over. He catches up with her and chops off her head. Pure gore fest goodness.

And so it begins.

What more is there to say? It’s a perfect slasher. You know the formula. A couple goes off to fornicate. Slashed! Kids go snooping where they aught not. Slashed! Kids partying. Slashed! Kids running. Slashed! Kids fighting back. Slashed! The kills are creative and elaborate with pretty much a different instrument of destruction used for each execution. The suspense is built in their ability to try and survive. Another tick on the list of slasher tropes is that you know one of these kids is walking out of here. Which one will it be?

We do get a different take on the slasher backstory that moves away from the movie template though. Usually, a slasher is very linear. We start off the movie with the injustice—the spark that created the monster—but in Joyride we get interposing snippets of what made our man Cleats lose his shit. His backstory is obvious and somewhat basic. He was an outsider in high school who had a crush on the popular girl. He is picked on by bullies, an accident happens that disfigures him and his life is ruined. It’s very similar to the plot of the 1986 slasher movie Slaughter High. Only in Slaughter High the killer gets revenge on the kids, now adults, who caused the accident and in Joyride the killer believes one of these new kids to be someone from his past. It’s also interesting to note that while I was reading movie comparisons kept popping in my head. This scene is like the scene in so and so movie etc. But as I went to write up the actual review I saw the dates on everything and Joyride came first in almost every scenario. So not only is this one of the rare slasher books, at the time, Joyride was also fresh and groundbreaking in that it had new takes on tropes before they had been done to death.

As for the reading experience; the best part about this book is that it’s exciting. It never becomes dull or has any flat spots. It moves at a consistent pace and even though there isn’t much of a plot there, you really don’t need one. The slasher is less about narrative and more about tapping into that primal fear of survival. These are characters who live in the safety of the suburbs, there are no giant predator attacks, no sharks or lions, they don’t live in a warzone or the ghetto, so their fear is fun—what if there was a Boogeyman? The atmosphere is also on point, it’s a graveyard, it’s constantly raining, it’s nighttime, they are locked inside. It definitely tapped into that nostalgia of being a teen and doing things you weren’t supposed to be doing. There are a couple scenes in Cleat’s house which is located in the graveyard. It is a stagnant and repugnant giant Victorian house with corpses at dinner tables. The kids are appropriately stupid kids but at the same time resourceful. I saw some mild complaints online about the dialogue reactions; “Oh my God! No! Please! Don’t kill me!” Etc. What do you want them to say?? It didn’t bother me at all and felt pretty realistic.

Overall Joyride isn’t just a copy on the slasher movie genre, it’s better than a lot of the slasher movies I’ve seen. Some of my favorites include Killer Workout, Iced, Slaughter High, Tourist Trap, Rush Week and of course the two classics Black Christmas and Halloween and I think Joyride is worthy of being on that list. It’s hard to believe this was never made into a movie. It feels like one. If you are looking for more of that good ol classic slasher this is it. This book is quite literally a Joyride. Which would be the only explanation for that title because it doesn’t really make sense.

Savage Night by Jim Thompson

Video review here. Written review below.

Jim Thomspson was born James Myers Thompson in Oklahoma in 1906.

Oklahoma…1906…that would put him close in location and age to one of my favorite musicians and human beings of all time, Woody Guthrie.

I immediately stopped my basic author bio search and looked to see whether the two had ever crossed paths and sure enough they did. In fact if it wasn’t for Woody Guthrie, the world might not have know Jim Thompson. But more on that later.

This is a very dark and romantic background and the exact thing you want to be true after reading a Thompson book.

He was born in an apartment above the Caddo County Jail in 1906. His father “Big Jim” Thompson was a former teacher turned county sheriff. It didn’t last long though as after being accused of embezzlement he took off for Mexico until 1910 when he reunited with his family in Oklahoma City and then onto Fort Worth Texas.

At the age of 19 little Jim Thompson would sometimes work the oil rigs with his father. He was also a bellboy at the Hotel Texas where he would do shady side hustles for guests such as procuring prostitutes, drugs and liquor as this was during prohibition. Unfortunately, he got high on his own supply and joined the non-exclusive club of alcoholism by the time he was 19.

From here he hits the rails as a hobo, a vagrant rail rider. You were probably hoping that this was where he met Woody who did lots of train hopping himself but unfortunately, no.

At the age of 23 he enrolled at the University of Nebraska in 1929 but then dropped out in 1931 due to the Great Depression.

In 1935 he sold his first story, The Strange Death of Eugene Kling to True Detective for the November issue.

Also, around this time is when he joined the Communist Party.

And here is where he is introduced to the hard travelin’ man himself, Woody Guthrie. They had a similar…comrade by the name of Bill Cunningham. No, not our beloved Bill Cunnigham of Pulp 2.0 and Men’s Adventure Quarterly fame! This Bill Cunningham was a Marxist economics professor and fellow “true crime” writer.

He was the director of the Oklahoma Federal Writers Project (alongside Louis L’Amour) but due to his Communist affiliation he was fired.

In 1940 he moved his family to San Diego where he scraped plaster for an airplane manufacturer where he was again investigated for his communist ties.

In 1941 Thompson travels to New York City and meets up again with Woody. He tells the Woodster about a novel he is working on. Woody is intrigued and shows it off to some more of the leftist crew to where it will end up in the hands of the founder of Modern Age Books who in March 1942 would publish Thompsons debut novel Now and on Earth.

Now and on Earth (1942) was a semi-autobiographical novel about Thompson’s time during WW2 when he worked at the airplane manufacturer, alcoholism, family dynamic and the plights of the American worker.

His next novel, Heed the Thunder (1946) is similar in that it would be described as general fiction or the dreaded literature descriptor. The kind of books that say “A novel” on the cover. Which, too each their own but that’s usually an automatic pass for me.

Thankfully for us genre fiction fans here is where he starts writing the good old stuff. The gritty crime novels that he would be known and celebrated for. His next book is Nothing More than Murder (1949)

And that’s enough for this bio. There have been books written about Jim Thompson, his life, his books and his influence on popular culture so if you want to know more check out:

Savage Art: A biography of Jim Thompson (95) by Robert Polito

Jim Thompson: Sleep with the Devil (91) by Michael J McCauley

Difficult Lives (93) by James Sallis. This book was released on Gryphon Books who is owned by our Youtube comrade Gary Lovisi. The book also contained biographies on David Goodis and Chester Himes. It looks like it was rereleased in 2025 by Penguin Random House.

Savage Night by Jim Thomspon

Our protagonist is Carl Bigelow. He has just gotten off the bus at Perdale, a small town ninety-five miles from New York City. The story is told in first person narrative, so we get all of Carl’s inner monologue and The Man is on his mind. The Man, (Capital T, capital M) has hired Carl for a job. It appears that Carl is a hitman and he is in town to knock off Jake Winroy. Winroy was involved with some corrupt members of the government and some nefarious mobsters, including The Man, and he has been running his mouth. Carl’s job is to arrive in town undercover as a student at the local college. He is to rent a room at the Winroy’s house, who have recently opened it up for boarding. The murder should look like an accident, so Carl is to gain everyone’s trust, wait months before making the murder occur and then keep on living his life in Perdale after the “accident.”

This novel is so much more than it seems on the surface. While I was reading it I was like, this is cool, it reminds me of the Orrie Hitt Widow novel I just read; very sleazy with every character covered in moral grime.

And then I finished it.

Closed the cover.

Mouth agape.

This book is a mindfuck. Every time I hear someone talk about Jim Thompson, they say he was bleak, depressing, depraved and nihilistic. That’s what I was ready for and yeah, it was in here, but it wasn’t any different than other books from this genre and era. What got me was the oddness. Whenever I thought I understood the main character’s personality it would change. The reality in the story would become surreal but not dreamlike or trippy, just a little off.

Carl, our main character, is five feet tall. For perspective; 2 inches taller than Danny Devito but I imagine him more like Malcom in the Middle as people are always mistaking him for a kid. He also has woman falling over him. He low key brags at the beginning that the week prior he banged three ladies in a week and the lust continues into this new situation. And no offense to the smaller stature guys out there, I’m sure they can get it in, but I just don’t see that happening at that rate. He is also cold and hard but panics in a second. He is frightened often but can be mean and intimidating also. When an older couple invite him over for dinner, the woman tells him that she wishes they had a child just like him. This grown man, who is a hired killer, almost cries and then daydreams that they are his parents.

There is a woman in this story who is missing half of her leg. At the bottom of the partial leg is a baby sized ankle and foot. Ok, and?? Not a big deal, people are born with deformities. But it goes to a place that reminded me of the little man in the first King in Yellow story.

Those are just a few examples, but the book is littered with them. It’s weird!

It is going to be difficult to talk about without spoilers so if you haven’t read it yet and absolutely plan on it, don’t read any further because even the most minor spoiler would change your perception of the narrative.

Upon arriving at Winroy’s place we meet Jake Winroy’s wife Fay, who after about five min of talk is ready to fall into Carl’s bed.

Settled into his room at the house Carl Bigelow pulls out his copy of True Detective Magazine. There is an article all about a vile serial killer named Charlie Bigger. AKA Little Bigger because of his small stature. The novel isn’t vague about it either. Our main character is Little Bigger. The article is written in this fantastical and sensational way. Which is how those articles were written but what makes it odd is the man it’s about is reading it and basically saying, yep. All true. My opinion at this moment was that it was a little cheesy.

We also meet the other lodger, Mr. Kendall. He comes off as flamboyant and for a second I thought he might also have it for Charlie. He is older and works at the bakery across the street but he used to be a teacher at the college. Charlie’s first instinct about Kendall is that he works for The Man and was sent here to make sure Charlie is doing his job. Or maybe he is another hired killer from someone else. Or maybe the guy is just a guy. Charlie can never make up his mind. Either way the motives of the mysterious Mr. Kendall creates suspense.

Fay Winroy is so enamored with Charlie Bigger that she is willing to help him take her husband Jake out. Once again, this isn’t anything that hasn’t happened in hundreds of noir novels but what’s weird is that it’s never talked about. There is no build up to the decision. No scenes of Charlie talking her into it. It just is.

We have one scene with The Man. He is really built up to be this larger-than-life gangster. In bed with Senators, businessman, street tough hoods and hitmen. There is no escaping The Man. Before the man found out about Charlie Bigger no one knew who he really was. He was considered a crime folktale legend .

The bulk of the novel is Charlie being paranoid. He constantly flips on who to trust. He hooks up with Ruth and has actual feelings for her as he sees himself in her disabilities.

The climax comes out of nowhere and smacks you upside the head. While you are recuperating and trying to get your bearings someone sticks a tab of acid in your mouth, gets behind you and starts pushing you out the door.

Amazing.

https://flatwaterfreepress.org/nebraska-noir-legendary-crime-writer-forgotten-man-in-home-state/ https://www.okhistory.org/publications/enc/entry?entry=TH013 https://fwtx.com/culture/jim-thompson-lived-hard-and-wrote-even-harder/ https://nebraskapublicmedia.org/en/news/news-articles/nebraska-noir-crime-writing-giant-jim-thompson-forgotten-in-native-state/

Death in Ecstasy by Ngaio Marsh

Originally published in 1936

My copy is the Jove edition, 3rd printing from 1983

Cover art by George Ziel, born Jerzy Zielezinski, a Polish Holocaust survivor, who is most well-known for his crime and gothic paperback covers.

The Fourth in the Inspector Allen series.

Written review below. Video review here:

It’s December, pouring rain and cold in London. We’re in the fictious neighborhood of Knocklatcher’s Row outside the building that contains The House of the Sacred Flame. Our inquisitive and bored reporter Nigel Bathgate decides that tonight is the night he’s going to knock on this door and see what this place is all about.

A man dressed in ceremonial robes answers the door and lets him know that it’s a member’s only club. Nigel is slightly deterred and starts asking what The House of the Sacred Flame is all about. The man gives vague answers and tells him to make an appointment if he really wants to know. A knock on the door sounds behind him. The man quickly turns to open the doors and two men in the same attire exit followed by a man who appears to be a priest. Nigel slips in while the door is open and we get to attend the ceremony.

There are seven attendees of the service, two acolytes and the priest. Everyone is dressed in the robes, esoteric rites are spoken, and Nordic names are dropped. It seems to be an amalgamation of occult ideals and Northern paganism.

The initiates are in a circle around the priest. There is a chalice of wine that is passed around the circle ending with a woman in the middle of the group. She drinks, starts having spasms and falls dead to the floor. Nigel runs up to the body, it looks like murder, so he calls his good friend from Scotland Yard Chief Detective-Inspector Alleyn who arrives with the cavalry. The doctor on scene gives a diagnosis of murder by poison. Now that it is official, Alleyn has started interviewing the members of the House of the Sacred Flame and our investigation begins.

There really isn’t much to the set-up and the mystery, which is what we paid our ticket for, is in full swing by chapter two. It’s the classic whodunit structure of a group of people in a contained area, each with hidden backstory that is unveiled slowly throughout the investigation that throws shade in every direction. Red herrings and possible motives sway the possibilities, but nothing is unfair. It’s all fair play mystery and if you are paying attention Ngaio Marsh puts it all there right in the open as the narrative moves forward.

Atmosphere wise there is a dark thread of heroin addiction to give the story a desperate and gloomy feel. Now add in constant thunderstorms, the cultish occult temple, and a book on how to make poison and this beautiful cover art by George Ziel and you’ve got a perfect mystery setting in your mind.

The suspects include a highly questionable cult like priest, a rich businessman from the US, a French snoot, a young hip couple, a few true believers, a bitter old woman and some servants with an astute attention to detail which make for a great list of suspects.

I don’t know if it was the mood I was in or what, but I did find it a little hard to get into. As the story entered the third act, I was definitely all in but felt the initial kick off didn’t completely grab me. Also, I knew nothing of this series going in. I didn’t even know it was a series. By page fifty I had to stop and google who the principal detective was. It felt like Nigel the reporter was our independent Sherlock Holmes solving mysteries for his own satisfaction. He was a bit eccentric and very inquisitive. But as the narrative progressed, it seemed that Detective Alleyn was the principal. It becomes obvious as it goes on that Alleyn is the main character, but it had a misplaced feeling at the start as I wasn’t sure whose eyes we were looking through.

If I was going with a grade I would give it a C+/B-.