WORST NIGHTMARES is one of the best horror and suspense novels in years, and Lord knows I’ve read enough of them in both genres. Written by British actor Shane Briant (CAPTAIN KRONOS — VAMPIRE HUNTER), the book finds Booker Prize-winning scribe Dermot Nolan with a near-terminal case of writer’s block when an unusual manuscript lands at his door by one Albert K. Arnold.
Except it’s not a manuscript at all — it’s a diary, penned by a serial killer who calls himself the Dream Healer. Through his website, he learns visitors’ worst nightmares, promises to cure them, but instead makes the gruesome scenarios come true, and then puts all the details to paper. Although Nolan is disgusted, he tells his wife the diary “sucks you in like a leech — you just have to read on; every damn word,” and the same can be said for WORST NIGHTMARES itself.
Part of Nolan wonders if the work is legit. Then he finds some harrowing drawings hidden in its rear cover, not only depicting the Dream Healer’s crimes — drilling out a model’s teeth while she’s paralyzed, hiding spiders and scorpions in an arachnophobe’s bedsheets — but also giving coordinates of where the victims’ bodies can be found. Nolan goes on a hunt to a few of the locations, and lo and behold, there they are.
He can’t tell the police because then they’d know he’d be lying about witnessing Arnold’s suicide earlier. And with the killer out of the picture, that opens the door for Nolan to take Arnold’s work as his own. Changing a few details, he does, and the result is an instant smash, with a major Hollywood film soon to follow. Life’s sweet once more for Nolan … until someone takes notice when an incident Nolan added to the book becomes reality, and a mysterious caller tips off a journalist about all the other murders. Needless to say, the hole Nolan digs himself only grows deeper and deeper.
WORST NIGHTMARES delivers on its thrilling high concept, and as it nears its conclusion, Briant smartly makes the chapters take up fewer and fewer pages, making it all the more difficult to put down. With his lengthy filmography, it should come as no surprise that Briant’s novel bristles with cinematic flair — imagine the SAW franchise minus the nihilism and infused with actual tension.
I had only one problem with the book, and it’s a biggie. A third of the way in, once all the playing pieces had been properly set up, I asked myself, “What’s the worst thing this book could do in terms of a reveal and motive?,” and sadly — shockingly — it did just that. Yet somehow, Briant manages to redeem himself to an extent by twisting it into one final act of ghastliness that extends itself across a few more chapters to the very last sentence.
I don’t know how or if Briant will be able to top this summer-ready read, but I’ll be there all the same. —Rod Lott
“Without seconds, they were stripped to their underwear, kissing passionately. Neela turned to face Dermot and was straddling him fast, holding on to the back of his neck. She reached down between her legs and moved her panties to one side, allowing Dermot to slip inside her.”
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As glowing as a review this is, what really sold be was the fact the author was in CAPTAIN KRONOS: VAMPIRE HUNTER.