American Supernatural Tales (Penguin Horror)
S. T. Joshi
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Part of a new six-volume series of the best in classic horror, selected by award-winning director Guillermo del Toro
American Supernatural Tales is the ultimate collection of weird and frightening American short fiction. As Stephen King will attest, the popularity of the occult in American literature has only grown since the days of Edgar Allan Poe. The book celebrates the richness of this tradition with chilling contributions from some of the nation's brightest literary lights, including Poe himself, H. P. Lovecraft, Shirley Jackson, Ray Bradbury, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and—of course—Stephen King. This volumes also includes "The Yellow Sign," the most horrific story from The King in Yellow, the classic horror collection by Robert W. Chambers featured on HBO's hit TV series True Detective. By turns phantasmagoric, spectral, and demonic, this is a frighteningly good collection of stories.
Filmmaker and longtime horror literature fan Guillermo del Toro serves as the curator for the Penguin Horror series, a new collection of classic tales and poems by masters of the genre. Included here are some of del Toro’s favorites, from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and Ray Russell’s short story “Sardonicus,” considered by Stephen King to be “perhaps the finest example of the modern Gothic ever written,” to Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House and stories by Ray Bradbury, Joyce Carol Oates, Ted Klein, and Robert E. Howard. Featuring original cover art by Penguin Art Director Paul Buckley, these stunningly creepy deluxe hardcovers will be perfect additions to the shelves of horror, sci-fi, fantasy, and paranormal aficionados everywhere.
sheet in either palm. Beneath her fleshless chest the heart jerked taut, the sluggish blood spurted. She sat in rigid muteness, her eyes staring at the night. In another second, the telephone rang. Who on earth? The question shaped unwittingly in her brain. Her thin hand faltered in the darkness, the fingers searching a moment and then Miss Elva Keene drew the cool receiver to her ear. “Hello,” she said. Outside a cannon of thunder shook the night, twitching Miss Keene’s crippled legs. I’ve
just listen and see if you can hear a receiver being put down. I’m sure you won’t.” Nurse Phillips listened for a moment, then shook her head. “I don’t hear anything,” she said and hung up. “Oh, wait!” Miss Keene said hurriedly. “Oh, well, it doesn’t matter,” she added, seeing it was already done. “If it happens too often, I’ll just call Miss Finch and they’ll have a repairman check on it.” “I see,” Nurse Phillips said and went back to the living room. Nurse Phillips left the house at
caught up to her. “Some fire,” Kelly said. “Do you think he came all the way from New York, like he said?” Joan asked. “I don’t know.” I couldn’t see that it mattered anyway. He had been behind the wheel of a big Lincoln when we found him, semi-conscious and raving. His head was bloated to the size of a football and his neck looked like a sausage. He had Captain Trips and not far to go, either. So we took him up to the Point that overlooks the beach and burned him. He said his name was Alvin
(1858), about spirits of the past invading a room and making it disappear; and “The Wondersmith” (1859), a story about animated dolls probably influenced by E. T. A. Hoffmann. O’Brien’s work was posthumously collected by William Winter in The Poems and Stories of Fitz-James O’Brien (1881) and, later, by his descendant, the critic and editor Edward J. O’Brien, in Collected Stories of Fitz-James O’Brien (1925). Jessica Amanda Salmonson has prepared a definitive two-volume edition, The Supernatural
was this, rather than anything else, which kept me awake for a long while and rendered my eventual slumber somewhat restless and broken. Of course, the strangeness of our situation, and the weird proximity of those aeonian walls and towers may in some measure have contributed to my unrest. But at any rate, I was not troubled by even the least presentiment of alarm or danger; and I should have laughed at the idea that anything of peril could lurk on Yoh-Vombis, amid whose undreamable and