Mark McLaughlin's Blog: Revenge of the B-Movie Monster - Posts Tagged "h-p-lovecraft"

Five-star review by Bruce Blanchard of BEST LITTLE WITCH-HOUSE IN ARKHAM:

http://www.amazon.com/Best-Little-Wit...

The text of the review:

Back then, H.P. Lovecraft was plying his stories to the pulp market and centering their locale around the eldritch haunted town of Arkham, just another writer trying to make his fortune. He built up a following around some of the best writers in the horror business including the likes of Robert Bloch, Clark Ashton Smith, Robert E. Howard and many others who fashioned their stories around the Old Ones, those monstrous beings seeking to return and impart their own version of madness. He died and his stories almost died with him except for the devoted determined to keep alive the cult of Cthulhu, Nyarlethotep, the dreaded Necronomicon, and Arkham University. Today, almost every horror writer seeks to add his own story. Most of the stories are serious in writing about the Hounds of Hell, haunted witch houses, midnight rituals, and the mysterious inhabitants at Innsmouth. And now, let me present to you Mark McLaughlin's additions which promises, no lie!, to make you giggle, guffaw, and snort milk out your nose or which ever potable you're drinking. The humor in the book may see spurts out your ears. Isn't that an image?

Mr. McLaughlin's Best Little Witch-House is a collection of 25 stories taking what we have today, mixing in that little swirl of H.P. and coming up with the likes of Cthulhu Royale (Bond), Hound-Dog McGee (Scooby Doo), Tony Tar-Pit and Monkey-Face Joe (the Flintstones), When We Was Flab (the Beatles). You'll run across a wonderful place to stay, Pickman's Motel. Attend the healings at St. Toad's Medical Center (you've seen the commercials). Try this title on for size: The Slivering Quiver of the River Lizard's Twisted Liver-Blisters. I have nothing but Praise for the stories in this collection. These are stories mixed with the serious and take a left turn into the absurd. If it was possible, H.P. Lovecraft would be involuntarily giggling. Download this treasure. The stories don't run long. For the true fans of Lovecraft out there, The Best Little Witch-House is one bringing out your laughter. For those unacquainted with his works, check out the genre and get a good laugh yourself. You will not go wrong in downloading this book.

...Best Little Witch-House in Arkham

Available as a trade paperback and on Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Best-Little-Wit...

I'm Mark McLaughlin, author of the Mythos-inspired horror fiction collection, Best Little Witch-House in Arkham.

How much do you know about the life and works of New England horror author H.P. Lovecraft? Take the Great H.P. Lovecraft Quiz and find out....

http://www.goodreads.com/quizzes/2848...

...Best Little Witch-House in Arkham


She felt overhead – no boards or dirt. She was out of the tunnel. Suddenly she had a horrible thought. Had all her wandering led her right back into the mansion?

She stood up, dug out the lighter and flicked it on again. The small wavering flame cast writhing shadows.

She was now in a small cave with a floor of slick gray stone. To one side was a pool with long bones and chunks of raw meat floating in it. Odd, flat, wet things were moving through the pool and around its rim. They were what made that slithering sound. At first she couldn’t tell what they were. They appeared to be shiny blankets – some beige, some pink, some olive-brown – moving aimlessly like misshapen slugs.

One worked its way toward her and she saw it was coated with fine scales, and parts of it were fringed with hair ... some parts seemed to be shaped like stockings, and those ended in flattened, boneless toes.

She screamed when she realized that the sluglike creatures were in fact living skins....

-- An excerpt from "A Beauty Treatment for Mrs. Hamogeorgakis," one of the 25 ‪‎horror‬ tales in the ‪Mythos‬-inspired collection, BEST LITTLE WITCH-HOUSE IN ARKHAM. Available on ‪‎Kindle‬ for just $2.99 (also available as a trade paperback). Just follow the link:
http://www.amazon.com/Best-Little-Wit...

So many of you liked my Great H.P. Lovecraft Quiz, I created a new quiz to test your knowledge of HPL and his various cosmic creatures.

You can take the Eldritch H.P. Lovecraft Gods & Monsters Quiz by following this link:

http://www.goodreads.com/quizzes/2886...


...Best Little Witch-House in Arkham

Excerpt No. 1:

Along the far wall was a four-poster bed with sky-blue silk curtains. Lounging in the middle of the bed on a pile of navy blue pillows was a willowy, dark-haired woman in a white dressing gown edged with pink lace.

She seemed normal enough – from a distance. But as Melina walked closer, she gradually realized there was something very wrong with the woman.

Mrs. Hamogeorgakis had fine bone structure and large blue eyes. But the eyes had an intense, vicious look to them, like those of a wild animal.

The woman’s pale skin had a slight olive cast – and was coated with a shining layer of tiny, iridescent scales.

Her dark hair was full and lustrous – far too lustrous. It glistened with a slick sheen, as though covered with a layer of oil.

Mrs. Hamogeorgakis smiled, revealing a mouthful of yellow, needle-thin teeth. “So this is the fancy expert,” she said in a wet rumble of a voice. “The miracle worker. Do you think you will be able to make a goddess of me?”

-- An excerpt from "A Beauty Treatment for Mrs. Hamogeorgakis," one of the 25 Mythos-inspired ‪horror‬ stories in the fiction collection, BEST LITTLE WITCH-HOUSE IN ARKHAM by Mark McLaughlin.

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Excerpt No. 2:

The land of Computronea used to be ruled by a power-mad mega-computer known as the Continuum. To save the day, a noble warrior scientist had overloaded the evil machine with data on goodness, causing it to explode. The explosion released a great amount of the mysterious Zing Energy that powered the Continuum. All this unleashed power created a new race of beings known as Nekronomi Pals, composed of either digital goodness or evil, or sometimes an unpredictable mix of both.

Basically, there were four main types of Nekronomi Pals. The most common by far were the Tulus – loyal, doglike creatures with tentacled faces, bat wings, claws and scales. Brott’s very favorite Pal was one of these, and his name was Peeka-Tulu. Most of the Tulus were friendly and relaxed. Their favorite pastime was taking long naps in dark, damp basement corners. But some could be quite snarly and ill-tempered, and their claws left awful scratches. Tulus contained high levels of Zing Energy.

Daggies resembled monkeys that had been crossed with goldfish. They had pale, lanky limbs, big fishy eyes and blubbery lips. They enjoyed swimming and splashing around in cool streams. Though electro-digital by nature, Nekronomi Pals could move about in water when in solid form – in fact, many enjoyed it. All the Pals had to eat and drink to nourish their solid bodies, just like real animals. Daggies loved water the most. Each Daggy was either all-the-way-good or all-the-way-evil.

Fungos had the appearance of hermit crabs, but instead of shells, they sported over-sized mushroom heads on their backs. Their stretchy eyestalks allowed them an expansive field of vision. They were aggressive fighters, with sharp, fast pincher-claws. Also, each type of Pal had its own special power – and the power of the Fungos was an especially formidable one. The other Pals certainly did not like to fight Fungos.

Shoggies were big, bouncy, rubbery Nekronomi Pals. They looked like juicy globs of gelatin with funny little wiggly bits suspended inside. These wigglies were their internal organs. Each Shoggy had two sturdy hearts and three pulsing brains, and so they were very industrious and intelligent. Their Zing Energy burned with a steady glow....

-- An excerpt from "Super Digital Nekronomi Pals Are Zing!" ... another strange tale from BEST LITTLE WITCH-HOUSE IN ARKHAM.

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BEST LITTLE WITCH-HOUSE IN ARKHAM ... available as a trade paperback or a Kindle download:

http://www.amazon.com/Best-Little-Wit...


Best Little Witch-House in Arkham

Mark McLaughlin

by Mark McLaughlin

(Previously appeared in my fiction collection, RAISING DEMONS FOR FUN & PROFIT)

There's a creature made of lint living in my house. I think electricity brought him to life. I have really thick carpets and the littlest bit of walking stirs up all kinds of static (I live near a power plant – that might have something to do with it). The creature looks sort of like a squid. He stands about thirteen inches high and has five tentacles, two beaks, and one glowing eye that doesn't blink. He can really wiggle around pretty fast on those tentacles. It's fun to watch.

I'm working in a record store – for now. Mr. Parnell, the manager, gave me two weeks notice yesterday. I guess a lot of the customers were complaining about me. Just because I cranked up the store's sound system a few times. And I yelled at some people after I rang up their sales wrong and they started whining all over the place.

I told the electrical lint squid the whole sad story and this is what he said in his crispy little voice:

"Here's the plan, Buddy. I think you should stick me in your knapsack, take me to the record store and hide me in the back room. Then, after everybody's gone home, I'll come out and use my special lint squid powers to put static on all the tapes and records and CDs."

"Big deal," I said. "They'll just send all that stuff back to the factory."

The electrical lint squid chuckled through one of his beaks. "That's where you're wrong, Buddy." He wiggled into my lap and put a tentacle on my shoulder. "You see, it'll be this special static. It's like a dog whistle – really high frequency. The customers won't be able to hear it, but it'll screw up their brain waves. It'll make them all scatterbrained and hyper and well, just plain crazy. They'll start seeing things, too, like imaginary friends and stuff. So they'll go crazy and have imaginary friends and get all goofy and weird and you know what? They'll all probably lose their jobs. You bet. That'll teach'em, Buddy."

I thought for a moment.

"Now wait a minute," I said. "Maybe I'm crazy. Mr. Parnell told me I was. So did some of the customers. Maybe I'm seeing things, too. Things like, oh, I don't know... you, perhaps? Maybe you're only an imaginary friend – or maybe you're using me to make others just like you. Fill me in, Mr. Electrical Lint Squid. I mean, really: what's the deal here?"

"That's a good question, Buddy," my little friend said. "A really, really good question. Let me give it some thought and I'll get back to you, okay? Great!" A beautiful electric-blue glow sprang up in his eye. "Now help me find that knapsack."

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For more tales of the weird and wild, check out Best Little Witch-House in Arkham.

Below you will find three chilling excerpts from my latest story collection, HIDEOUS FACES, BEAUTIFUL SKULLS, which is available on Amazon as a trade paperback or Kindle download. Here's the Kindle link:
http://www.amazon.com/Hideous-Faces-B...

GOODREADS:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2...


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1. An excerpt from the horror story, "Drool Tool: The Meltdown Mix"....

What? You’ve never been to the Black Box?

It’s delicious, my dear. Black walls, black carpeting and a black marble dance floor. I’d be there tonight if it weren’t for – Well, they’re going to be closed for a week or so.

This club is interesting enough, but the music? Absolutely dreadful. They don’t even play the Psychonauts.

You’ve never heard of them? Do you live in a cave? On a farm? I have all their CDs: Monkey Boy, Slurp It Up, Robot with a Whip... Surely you’ve heard their latest single, Drool Tool?

You have some lipstick on your teeth. Right there. You’re quite pretty. You shouldn’t bleach your hair, though. You should dye it black, like mine. Then we could pass for sisters.

Yes, I know I’m a bit older than you. Your older sister. Older but wiser.

The lead singer for the Psychonauts is Tarot Mandrago – an absolute god. I met him a few months ago. I’m an account executive at Raw Hits magazine and–

Hmm? Didn’t hear you.

Oh, that just means I sell ad space. The magazine threw a huge party and that’s where I met Tarot, with his long black hair and big black eyes. He rambled on and on about Haitian music, aborigine music, even dream music. I had no idea anyone in a dance band could be so erudite. Unfortunately he was standing to my left and I’m practically deaf in that ear. The other one’s a bit weak, too. If the party got too loud I couldn’t catch everything he said.

Soon Tarot’s backup singers came to whisk him away and I was whisked right along. We all piled into a stretch limo. We drove for the longest time before we pulled up in front of a gorgeous mansion with stone gryphons on each side of the door. And inside–!

The walls were draped with blood-red velvet curtains. There was sound equipment everywhere. Some sleepy young things were lounging about on huge pillows in the main hall. An absolute Adonis wearing nothing but a leather mask was leading a monkey on a leash.

Tarot explained that the mansion belonged to an elderly millionairess who desperately needed a hobby. He pointed to a metal booth hanging by gold chains about twenty feet above the floor. The old girl was in there, watching. The masked Adonis whistled and a rope ladder shot down from the booth. He and his monkey shimmied right up.

The Psychonauts began to rehearse, so I went over to the pillow people. They were smoking the most obnoxious substance: ground-up African beetles mixed with dried seaweed. I sat with them, smoking and talking to a strange young thing from Cat’s Ass, Illinois. I asked her what was on the agenda and she gave me an odd little smile....


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2. An excerpt from the horror story, "It Isn't What You Gnaw, It's Who You Gnaw" -- a tale of artists and zombies.... 

Wilma Website: Yeah, I was a Deathquaker. I suppose I still am, but I really can’t call myself one, since Dandy Voorhees isn’t around anymore.

The Deathquakers without Dandy? Unthinkable! That would be like the Youthquakers from the Sixties without Andy Warhol. Everybody knows that Dandy modeled his every movement, every utterance, every moment of his existence after Andy Warhol. Andy was an artist and a genius, and so was Dandy. But Dandy gave everything a dark twist – a Goth sensibility – so he could take it one step beyond and call it his own.

Andy had a hangout called The Factory, with everything spray-painted silver. Dandy had The Funeral Parlor, with everything draped in black velvet. Andy had his paintings of Campbell Soup cans and his Brillo box sculptures. Dandy did the same thing with formaldehyde bottles and clove cigarette packs. Andy looked like a pathetic corpse – and Dandy...?

Like I said. He had to take everything one step beyond.

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Koko Fantastic: I was Dandy’s first friend in his town without pity, make no mistake! I was actually at the bus station when he arrived. But I wasn’t there to see Dandy. I didn’t even know who he was. No one did.

No, I was arguing with my boyfriend at the time, whose name I will not even allow to cross my lips, because he was leaving town and he still owed me at least three or four thousand dollars. I was just yelling and yelling at him, telling him I was going to hunt him down like a dog, when out of the corner of my eye I saw this scrawny little white-haired man-child with sunglasses and skin three shades whiter than an onion. He was wearing some kind of tattered black-velvet suit that was falling apart at the seams.

I looked at that little piece of ghost-meat and said, “Freak, what’s your story?”

He just pointed behind me and said, “Gee! That guy’s getting away.”

I turned around and sure enough, the bus was pulling away from the curb. I just sank to the ground and started crying, and damned if that skinny-assed albino shrimp didn’t sit himself down next to me and start crying, too.

“Oh, now don’t you start,” I said. “You’re so skinny, you’ll leak out all your water and turn to dust. Why are you crying anyway? You don’t know me. ”

“I can’t help it,” he said in that soft ghost-voice of this. “Gee, you’re just so beautiful I can’t stand to see you so sad. What’s your name?”

I told him my name. My real name, that is. He shook his head. “That’s all wrong for you. Your name should be Koko Fantastic. A beautiful lady should have a beautiful name.”

Well now, of course I know I’m beautiful. But sadly, most folks don’t appreciate that fact. They think a woman over three-hundred pounds has just gotta be – shall we say, less than pleasing to the eye. I thought little ghosty-boy was really sweet ... and very observant ... so I told him he could stay at my place for a few weeks. I took that name he gave me, and it turned my life around. His stay turned from weeks into years, but that was no problem, because by then, he was a force to be reckoned with, and I was high and mighty among his Chosen Ones – the Deathquakers....


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3. Finally, here's an excerpt from "Agatha Says" -- a tale of the ageless evil that lurks in a retirement home....

Dear Irene,

Merry (belated) Christmas, and thank you, thank you, thank you for the new gloves! Sorry I haven’t written for so long, but so much has been going on.

Bart got out of the hospital just in time to make the Christmas party. Did I mention that the nurse who hit him had to go to the hospital, too? For stitches in her hand and her scalp. Carl opened her head up with that cane. No charges were pressed against him. What are they going to do – send a 78-year-old man to prison? Needless to say, the nurse is not returning to Fern Hill.

For the party, the music teacher from Sloane High School brought down some kids to sing carols in the rec room. While they were singing I looked around and realized that Agatha wasn’t there, so I snuck back to her room to fetch her.

When I got to her door I forgot to knock. I simply walked right in and there she was, stark naked and wearing that cat mask. She was standing in the middle of the room, mumbling some made-up song and moving her hands around, like she was conducting an orchestra or something. She’d drawn all kinds of funny little pictures on the floor in chalk, too. Of course she had to be drunk – her and that rum. What else could it be? I was about to say something – what, I don’t know! – when I saw there were no eyeholes in the mask. She didn’t even know I was there, so I backed out and shut the door. I’m sure she’d die of embarrassment if she knew I saw her carrying on like that.

I’ll tell you this: for a woman in her late sixties, Agatha has some body on her. None of the chicken skin you see around here. She must have had it lifted. You know that fat they suck out of liposuction patients? I wonder why they can’t pump it into skinny people. Bernice’s bony old butt sure could use some extra padding. Yours, too – those snapshots you sent have me worried. You’re still the prettiest gal I know, but you could stand to pack on a few pounds. Joseph looks like he’s picking up weight again (he must be eating off your plate too!). I wish they could take some of Joseph’s spare tire and give it to you.

Agatha never did come to the party. I told everyone she was sick. After the students left there was a problem – Celeste slapped the supervisor on duty for telling her not to eat so many cookies. Agatha had given Celeste a whole box of cookies that morning, which was a little irresponsible, since Celeste is on a restricted diet (cancer everywhere, the poor dear). After that slap, the supervisor simply stood there, utterly shocked. Then his nose started bleeding. Celeste just shuffled off with her cookies.

Then – I don’t know what got into us! – we were all laughing and laughing while the supervisor stuffed tissues up his nose. He must have quit since that was the last we saw of him.

A few days later, Agatha announced that negotiations were final. Fern Hill was now Stone Manor. After that, everything started to change, just like Agatha said.

New carpeting, a big-screen TV in the rec room – this week Bernice and I are having our room completely redone. And it’s not costing us extra! I hope there isn’t a catch. Still, Agatha hasn’t made us sign anything, and she is rich. Didn’t Elvis used to give away Cadillacs to complete strangers?

Agatha also brought down that nutritionist of hers. He’s going to be working here full-time, fixing our meals. Some health expert – he’s as white as a fish-belly. There’s something wrong with his eyes, too. They look like blue glass marbles. Agatha swears by him, but I have my doubts.

For one thing, he’s always asking us for urine samples and little clips of our hair. He says he’s checking us for vitamin deficiencies. I just hope he washes his hands before he starts dinner.....


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You can also find out more about the story collection HIDEOUS FACES, BEAUTIFUL SKULLS at:
FACEBOOK
http://www.facebook.com/HideousFacesB...


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Hello, I’m Mark McLaughlin, author of Best Little Witch-House in Arkham and Hideous Faces, Beautiful Skulls, among other books of horror and dark fantasy.

Hope you’re all having a great summer! Perhaps you’re spending some of your leisure time re-reading vintage classics, like the works of H.P. Lovecraft.

Lovecraft’s fiction is filled with strange, exotic settings of horror and wonder. But how much do you really know about them...? Take the quiz and find out!

Link to the quiz:
https://www.goodreads.com/quizzes/382...

Here's a video excerpt from the story, "The End Of The World Is Brought To You By..." from Best Little Witch-House in Arkham. In the story, Lovecraftian forces take over a TV network, and this excerpt describes one of the resulting programs.

YouTube link:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQUYE...

Link to the book on Amazon.com:
http://www.amazon.com/Best-Little-Wit...

The Blasphemy In The Canopic Jar
Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01M08J985




The Blasphemy In The Canopic Jar & More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos

THE BLASPHEMY IN THE CANOPIC JAR presents seven Lovecraftian tales from the authors of THE ABOMINATIONS OF NEPHREN-KA and THE HORROR IN THE WATER TOWER. In the title story, "The Blasphemy In The Canopic Jar," a collector of antiquities encounters a ghastly, deformed monstrosity spawned in the days of ancient Egypt. Three more adventures tell of worshippers of Nyarlathotep and their secret activities in the modern world. The collection includes a tale of the insect-god Ghattambah, set in the toxic ruins of the distant future, as well as two stories of "The King In Yellow," a forbidden book that offers only madness and death to those who read it. Forbidden worlds of the bizarre await you in THE BLASPHEMY IN THE CANOPIC JAR.