Sins of the Sirens is a short-story anthology by four writers-Loren Rhoads, Maria Alexander, Mehitobel Wilson, and Christia Faust- released by John Everson’s Dark Arts Books. The last two horror books I read that were written by women were Jason X by Nancy Kilpatrick and Heartsick by Chelsea Cain, and while I do love my crap in book form as much as I do my movies (this being written by a guy who actually read the Species II adaptation, then watched the movie directly afterwards) Nancy Kilpatrick slumming it for a paycheck is probably not the best representation of good horror written from a female perspective. With that said, I was very excited when I received Sins of the Sirens because I had high hopes to be blown away by a new female writer, but unfortunately I was not.
Loren Rhoads’ The Angel’s Lair would be a better fit in one of those erotic horror magazines. The same goes for Still Life With Broken Glass, and it didn’t get much better with Last-born. Only three stories in I was wondering if I would find something in this book worth my time.
Maria Alexander’s Last Note was definitely the story I was looking for. After a bitter breakup with his girlfriend, Albert finds a little more than comfort in the pages of a blank book he buys at an estate sale. He intends to use it for therapy by writing away his woes, but someone or something starts to send him journal entries that bring him good fortune.. Alexander’s other stories also deal with being abandoned and betrayed. Pinned is a tale of voodoo and revenge. In The Dark River in His Flesh we meet Richard who is pining over a woman he lost. Instead of drowning himself in an empty diary, he tries to find salvation in the drink Absinthes, which eventually leads him on a journey to the Underworld, an outcome he didn’t expect.
Good short-stories always remind me of watching a good episode of Tales From the Crypt. Maria Alexander’s three tales would have been a good fit as decent episodes in that series. The same cannot be said for Mehitobel Wilson, whose stories would have no business being shown on television.
Mehitobel is the one who stands out in Sins of the Sirens and not because of her name. Besides her obligatory werewolf tale, The Wild, she manages to step away from the women horror author stereotypes and actually delivers something on the disturbing side. Close is the story from Sins of the Sirens to write home about, and saves the collection from being just another every day, mundane anthology. It is one of those stories that make you wonder about the author, or what happened to her in life to make her think of such things and then put them on paper. Close is not horrifying in your standard horror movie sense. It does not include any demons or ghouls, just a hotel bed and the voyeur underneath it. I met a few guys like Tad when I worked at a porn shop in California, the kind that told you the twisted shit they did when they were alone, as if they were just explaining how they liked to watch sports. Watching sports was the last thing on Tad’s mind, but unfortunately, necrophilia was not.
Christa Faust finishes the book off, and while her Ring type tale of haunted DVDs Love, La Llorona, may have flew over my head and was a bit of a let-down after finishing Mehitobel’s creepy Parting Jane, her futuristic Firebird redeems her. In a world of synthetic drugs and sex slaves can Ivy revenge her lover’s death while defeating her own addictions? What is the mysterious Firebird that killed her beloved Nita, and will she also succumb to its deadly seduction? I cannot tell you — you will have to read the book to find out.
One thing I can tell you is not to waste time searching for a common thread between the tales in Sins of the Sirens. You would be a fool to do so. Each author brings her own unique approach to this book, and their own unique style.
Unfortunately, overall, the stories these authors showcased in this book felt a little scraped from the bottom of the barrel; stuff better reserved for their lockboxes. Christa can tell a damn good story, but Tighter is a cliché bondage tale that seems like it was conceived by a 16-year-old goth girl who is still cutting herself. It is a shame because if she really let herself go she may have been the new woman writer who knocked my socks off. I did find a few dark alleys and places I may have never gone had I not given this book a chance. It does a decent job of showcasing what else horror can be, but also failed to make me want to investigate any further.
I wonder in Nancy wrote any of those crappy Final Destination book also?
