I spent the first weekend of the new year enjoying a variety of fun things: movies with the family, sledding with the kids, and time spent curled up with a good book. I’ve spent far too little time the past few months curled up with good books, and I mean to make up for it.
The book I lost myself in this time was called The Showing, by Will Macmillan Jones. It’s a fantastically spooky tale about a spooky old house. It took me right back to my childhood, when I read every spooky book I could lay my hands on. And like the best of those old stories, this one had me shivering in anticipation. I half-expected something to jump out at me, but nothing ever did.
To break up all the spooky tension, there were a few lighter moments. I couldn’t help smiling at Evie’s collection of books (Cheyenne, by L.L. Wiedmeier; Leah, by A. Baker; and The Binding, by S. Dogra), all of which are real books that you should also check out. And this part had me giggling loud enough to make my family further question my sanity:
Across town, other resources were being wasted, but at least they weren’t mine. Evans pulled a load of cash out of his pocket and it vanished, just like that, into the pocket of a somewhat blowsy middle-aged lady who called herself a medium.
I put her down as an extra-large.
It takes a lot of skill to write good comedy, and at least as much to write good horror. Will Macmillan Jones excels in both areas. If you haven’t read his Banned Underground series, I highly recommend it.
As for me? I’ll be settling down with the next book in the Mister Jones series, Portrait of a Girl. I can’t wait! 🙂
Have you read any good books lately?
(c) 2016. All rights reserved.


And this book is a fantastic one.
Today’s review is brought to you by the fine folks at Glass House Press and the letter S.
And now, as promised, I’ve reviewed Flotsam or Jetsam, another book involving Tallis Steelyard and his compatriots:
As promised, my review of Lambent Dreams. What’s it about? Poetry. Plain and simple:
Joining Authonomy was my first step into the wider writing community. I know I’ve raved about the site before, but it really was a fantastic place at the time I was there. (Well, at the time I was active, anyway – I’m still actually there, but I haven’t logged in in ages.) Anyway, as a result of getting to know so many other authors, I’ve been introduced to some truly wonderful friends and some truly magical books.
You know, I really feel like I don’t read enough. I mean, I read oodles of blogs, plus about a dozen articles a day from The Guardian, plus random articles on Facebook, and I always try to check in on Twitter at least once a day, but I don’t read nearly as many books as I used to.