Manitou Blood by Graham Masterton

". . .a tale worthy of Poe."

"It?s one terror ride after another into undreamed of horror, mayhem and slinking-along-the-footsteps-of-reality fantasy."

"Masterton?s exacting sense of place and characterization breathes new and horrific life into Erskine?s New York City."

Harry Erskine’s wife Karen sent him packing. He returns to the psychic herbalism business, charming rich old ladies for his rent and Guinness. From rags to riches and back again, Harry is about to face an old enemy, one he was sure had been defeated and scattered to the four winds.

Elsewhere in New York City, a doctor takes a silver-painted, young mime vomiting up blood to the hospital. The mime is the first—but not the last—victim of a strange blood disorder. Emergency rooms become overrun with people encrusted with heavy duty sun block, burning from the sun and vomiting blood, blood that isn’t their own.

Back in Harry’s run-down apartment, he reads the fortune of a young man experiencing nightmares. Television reports say these same nightmares preceded the vampire epidemic sweeping the city. Harry’s spirit guide gives him a glimpse of the cause of the epidemic. Harry realizes the dead aren’t about to stay dead for long.

Graham Masterton mines past gold with Manitou Blood, going back to Harry Erskine and his nemesis, Indian wonder worker Misquamacus. Masterton’s exacting sense of place and characterization breathes new and horrific life into Erskine’s New York City.

Merging the Old World with the New, Manitou Blood creeps along the flesh with ice-slimed skeletal fingers bringing Romanian vampires, vampire gatherers and Native American history and magic together in a tale worthy of Poe. Masterton obviously never tires of turning “happily ever after” into a short breathing space before plunging headlong into the dank and shadowy abyss. It’s one terror ride after another into undreamed of horror, mayhem and slinking-along-the-footsteps-of-reality fantasy.

Masterton hasn’t lost his touch. He reaches ever higher—then deeper into crevices for nightmare fodder.

Reviewer: J. M. Cornwell