Herein lies stories of insanity, or how insanity is perceived....be it tranquil or scraped from the darkened depths of one's skull...peaceful or strangely prodigious...insanity means many things to many people, it's all in the perception. From bawdy, to Gothic, to blatantly sick, many windows have been opened, some of them 'cracked'--perhaps the authors themselves are insane?

REVIEW

"Forget 'mainstream' horror, THIS is what you want to read. Thought out plots and storylines, unlike Hollywood's thoughtless/plotless gorefests just for gore's sake. The Gratista Vampire Clan group has got themselves another winner here. More haunting, excellent photography by Ms. Cinsearae S., and knock-em-dead stories by Spider, Anton Glascow, Mari Mc Bryar and Camille McKeever. I can always rest assured knowing I'm going to get a treat when their anthologies come out. I wish this group continued success and await their next tome! If you haven't read any of their books yet, I recommend you do!"

Reviewed by: Shaun Collins
thepurpleraven.blogspot.com

EXCERPT

From "In The Eyes of Love Eternal" by Camille Augustine

His blood was thick and searing on her fingers. It ran in burgundy rivulets down her arms, dripping into a puddle from her elbow onto the filthy concrete below. Her tattered blouse lay draped on her half starved frame, open, exposing generous breasts, hanging without confinement; her nipples tightening from the chill in the air that she either refused to, or could not, acknowledge.

Bringing her lips closer, she sniffed, and then licked her fingertips ravenously, tasting the coppery sweetness of his blood. Her other hand plummeted down between her legs to manipulate the tender folds of her womanhood. She threw her head back against the brick of the building, whimpers of gratification eliciting from her crimson tinted lips, her pelvis pumping furiously against her hand; inhuman cries of a wild thing rutting for satiation. A mere moment later her orgasm took her. The screams of her satisfaction could be heard, echoing into the darkness of the alleyway. Gray-green eyes that used to hold a wealth of emotion and warmth, were now vacant and feral. She had become an untamed animal, as instinct carried her on.

Etienne watched her as she ran into the night. The glowing ember of his cigarette was the only point of light in the darkness of the alley way. He flicked it, half smoked, to the side, as he walked forward, and crouched down before the body of the dying man, his erection ascended, as his fangs descended, all in one fluid motion as he leaned in, imbibing the delicate aroma of the dying man's essence.

'H-help… m-me…' the man pled weakly.

Gently, Etienne took the man's head in his hands, cradling it within the crook of his arm as he exposed the raw meat of what was once his neck.

One pale finger, cold as the grave, came to rest upon the man's lips. 'Shhh.... Sleep, monsieur....' The man's eyes fluttered closed as a soft smile spread out over his lips.
As the blood began to trickle down his throat, the internal beast that gnawed relentlessly at Etienne slowly retreated, sated for the moment. He sighed softly against the dead man's throat, and rose to his feet. From inside his jacket pocket he drew a vial of fluid and a book of matches. Carefully, Etienne uncorked the vial and let a few drops fall upon the corpse. Then, circumspectly replacing it, he lit one of the matches and let it fall, setting the corpse on fire.

Etienne lit another cigarette with his Zippo as he watched the body burn to a pile of ashes and bones, then slowly turning away, followed the trail of his new progeny. It was going to be a long, interesting night.