This Skin Was Once Mine and Other Disturbances
Format:Hardback
Publisher:Titan Books Ltd
Published:2nd Apr '24
£13.99
Available for immediate dispatch.
A brand-new collection of four intense, claustrophobic and terrifying horror tales from the Bram Stoker Award (R)-nominated and Splatterpunk Award-winning author of Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke. Four devastating tales from a master of modern horror... This Skin Was Once Mine When her father dies under mysterious circumstances, Jillian Finch finds herself grieving the man she idolized while struggling to feel comfortable in the childhood home she was sent away from nearly twenty years ago by her venomous mother. Then Jillian discovers a dark secret in her family's past--a secret that will threaten to undo everything she has ever known to be true about her beloved father and, more importantly, herself. It's only natural to hurt the things we love the most... Seedling A young man's father calls him early in the morning to say that his mother has passed away. He arrives home to find his mother's body still in the house. Struggling to process what has happened he notices a small black wound appear on his wrist-the inside of the wound as black as onyx and as seemingly limitless as the cosmos. He is even more unsettled when he discovers his father is cursed with the same affliction. The young man becomes obsessed with his father's new wounds, exploring the boundless insides and tethering himself to the black threads that curl from inside his poor father... Prickle Two old men revive a cruel game with devastating consequences... All the Parts of You That Won't Easily Burn Enoch Leadbetter goes to buy a knife for his husband to use at a forthcoming dinner party. He encounters a strange shopkeeper who draws him into an intoxicating new obsession and sets him on a path towards mutilation and destruction... Content warning found inside book.
Praise for Eric LaRocca: "These stories are body horror at its best-but they also enter the realms of dark relationships, intrusions that change our lives forever, obviously not for the best, the fear of illness, of taking care, of love, of obsession, of attachment. They are nightmarish and they are deeply human. I loved them and also my jaw dropped at how daring they are, how far they go. Eric La Rocca is not only good: there's courage in his literature." Mariana Enriquez, author of Our Share of Night "The Trees Grew Because I Bled There holds you in thrall until the final transgressive act. Here is a collection of stories at once sophisticated and deeply unsettling, each bolder and more spellbinding-and more revelatory-than the last. Eric LaRocca is one of the horror genre's most vital voices." Andy Davidson, author of The Hollow Kind "A powerful collection of eight startling stories. Highly recommended." Ellen Datlow, editor of the annual series The Best Horror of the Year "LaRocca has conjured for us a mad, beautiful tale of dark magic, trauma and love, and how these things intertwine - this is an author in command of powerful narrative sorceries, and is deserving of your immediate attention." Chuck Wendig, author of The Book of Accidents "Horror fiction doesn't get more emotionally raw than this. A smart, sharp read with echoes of King's Needful Things and Barker's The Damnation Game, Everything the Darkness Eats not only has one hell of a good title, it's one hell of a good book." Bentley Little "Some horror walks you down a dark corridor, where there's whispers and laughter, sobs and screams. Other horror starts down at the end of that corridor, where there's a door that opens on to you don't know what. Read this, and then decide where Eric LaRocca has left you. Not that it matters. There's no way out." Stephen Graham Jones, author of Don't Fear the Reaper "Eric LaRocca's unflinching Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke will crawl inside you, move stuff around, and make you see the world differently, like all great stories do." Paul Tremblay, author of The Pallbearers Club
ISBN: 9781803366647
Dimensions: unknown
Weight: unknown
288 pages