It is with great sorrow that I must admit to finding no pumpkins devouring newel posts present in this novel. In fact, the book had absolutely nothing to do with pumpkins with teeth or disembodied skeletal arms stroking bannisters. Sad panda.
Dude and dudettes, I’m burned out on 80s horror. I might have liked this more had it actually had a stronger Halloween vibe (which is what I was looking for), but it didn’t. In fact, I’m more interested in who the author was and what happened to her than I am in reading the second book Torments. As far as I can tell, Lisa W. Cantrell fell off the map around 1990 and hasn’t landed anywhere yet. She published four novels and vanished. Wicked pissah of a myst’ry, eh!
I liked three things about this book: Davy, the scene in the mirror maze, and the fact that it ended.
In summation: A serious lack of Halloweeniness killed this read for me. I wanted pumpkins and shit, man. Can’t a Dood get a fucking pumpkin? (Only people who have read this will get that reference.)
Final Judgment: The literary equivalent of candy corn.
(Thanks to Evans Light for scaring this one up for me. If nothing else, it looks good on my shelf.)