Busy Blood By Stuart Hughes and D. F. Lewis

This is the crooked, surreal and dark house that Stuart Hughes and D. F. Lewis built. 

This is a lonely collection of shadow-filled rooms and twisted passageways where no reality is certain, and where certainty shifts and distorts. This is a place of  grotesque free sex, of demon armies and clinics in which exorcism is by surgery. 

This is where you will find quiet tumours and the mansion with two bedsits and where you will be meticulously prepared for madness. 

This is a very difficult review to write, this book has had me scratching my head for weeks.  How do I go about reviewing a book that I don’t really understand?  Yes it is well written, the actual process of reading these stories is relatively easy and is pleasant enough.  However after reading a great deal of these stories I was left wondering about what I had just read.  I was often left with a what was that about feeling. Whether this is a criticism  of the two authors or a criticism of myself I don’t know.  

Personally I don’t think I was the target audience for this book.  I’ve always been unsure whether it is my dyslexia, or the fact that I never really paid attention in English lessons at school, as to why some books that are regarded as literary classics often leave me cold.  And this book is I think a prime example of this.  I do believe that these stories are very good, and it is probably more down to me not getting it than the actual quality of the work on show here.  

If you like intelligent horror that makes you think, then I think this book is ideal for you. 


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