The Best New Horror 1
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From razor sharp terror to supernatural chills...This sensational for the best short horror novels and stories collects spine-melting material from all areas of the field - blood-soaked reveries; splatterplunk nightmares; and thought-provoking fantasies that linger long into the night.Rare treats include the 'The Pin' by Robert R. McMannon, one of the most sustained, stomach churning chillers of recent years; Thomas Tessier's elegant 'Blanca'; 'The Horn' by Stephen Gallagher and Thomas Ligotti's dark vision 'The Strange Design of Master Rignolo'.Included are other writers at the pinnacle of their careers: Karl Edward Wagner, Richard Laymon, Steve Rasnic Tem and Ramsey Campbell, as well as rising stars like Kim Newman, Ian Watson, Brian Lumley, Chet Williamson and many more.
the CIA”). Besides, business had pretty much dried up. Basma had been in Oranien for the best part of three years, doing the odd bit of trade and otherwise depleting his capital. He was eager to move on to more fertile ground, but had not yet decided where that might be. By then I was tired and tipsy and went to bed early. But we agreed to meet again the next day and have dinner in town, which is how we came to be discussing the police. “Who, for instance?” I asked. “Let’s not be looking around
his joints were the other side of forty and rebelled at being folded into a 747’s tourist-class orange crates. He was wont to say that the edible food and free booze were more than worth the additional expense on a seven-hour flight, and his preventive remedy for tedium and for jet-lag was to drink himself into a blissful stupor and sleep throughout the flight. Once he and Cathy had flown over on the Concorde, and for that cherished memory he would never do so again. He still hadn’t got used to
racket that nobody objected when Mick turned the valve to shut it off. The silence got to us before the cold did. But the cold started getting to us a couple of minutes later. We broke open the lockers in the hope of finding more coats or blankets, but all that we found were tools and empty lunch buckets and mud-encrusted work boots. David’s earlier remark about burning the furniture no longer seemed like a joke, but the truth of it was that there wasn’t much about the furniture that was
to say something similar and I think I made one tiny, almost inaudible croak. The wind dropped and the night grew still, and then it was like her eyes turned on like blazing torches in the ravaged pit of her face as she bent down towards me, and I could feel their heat and the breath of corruption warming my frost-bitten skin. I could see now that her hair was matted with concrete, and that patches of it had been torn out. The exposed skin was like that of a plucked grouse that had been hanging
when she still did not respond he began to nip, to bite. He began to cry, massaging her breasts, probing her pubic area with his fingers, trying to kiss her, love her awake. But she remained cold and dry. The only air stirring in the room seemed to be his own, ragged breath. Gene knocked on the dark screen door, and waited this time. This time, he knew, required a more definite invitation. Her pale face appeared in the screen, her dark eyes taking in the bundle by his feet: the dull green