The worst things come for us when we feel our safest, when we’re at our most vulnerable. Normally, I’m a cautious, sometimes paranoid, person (workplace hazard of being a horror writer). Never park next to a van. Look in the back seat before getting into a car. Always lock the door behind you. I still can’t fathom my actions on this particular day. Preoccupied with the list of errands I still had to do, I sat in my car and fussed with my grocery bags. Then I turned to close my door. A man I...

Some things can only be whispered about in the shadows. And even then, you’ll need a few shots of liquid courage first. That’s why pubs like Hannigan’s exist. It’s a safe place for adults to share their chilling stories of the macabre. We find enough comfort huddling close to each other to voice the things we would normally never dare. An actor tries to get his hands on a damning film after his blackmailer’s death but attempting to cover up the past risks unleashing horrors both new and old. A...

Some things are harder to let go of than others This series in particular is a gut punch. Ron and I have spent so much time with Gray and the others. Months with them wreaking havoc in our heads and laptops. Late nights and inconvenient moments of inspiration. It was hard to accept that it was time to let them go. So we decided that we were going to send them off with a bang—a shake-up to Gray’s already tilted world order. We’ve got twists, turns, creatures of unspeakable evil, and a whole lot...

We spent a lot of time exploring a wide variety of feelings—many of them from our own experiences—to create the character of Gray Brooks. We wanted to create a character who was complicated but relatable. A character who said and did things that seem familiar. And then, we threw him into unimaginable scenarios, battling monsters who’d walked straight out of nightmares to protect his loved ones. We think that Gray, like most of us, would put his own life on the line to keep his family safe....

You’re here. I’m here. Shane’s here. Normally, I’d say three’s a crowd, but not right now. Not when it’s the three of us. Shane’s had a rough start. A few hard times. No, I’m not going to tell you what happened to Jacinta. Shane isn’t ready to talk about it yet, and I’ve got to respect that. What we can talk about, though, is Ms. Gillian and Ronald, Blood and Silver, and dirty cops. They’re the darkness that lives in the world. They’re the monsters standing in the open, creatures you don’t...

Whether it’s memories, guilt, or thoughts of what could have been if we had chosen a different path. A recent dog-sitting gig reminded me of this. My neighbor’s dog and I were walking down a quiet wooden trail. Without warning, he jerked to a stop, ears pricked and nose twitching. He refused to move an inch closer to a cluster of bushes that hugged the trail ahead. As we backtracked, he never stopped glancing behind. I live in Australia, so the odds are good that it was a snake, or any number...

Enduring blistering Australian summers always made me wonder why horror favors the colder months. Don’t get me wrong. I love the naturally creepy autumn aesthetic. And the bleakness of winter is a welcome excuse to curl up. But there’s this strange phenomenon that only happens when it’s scorching hot. It seems like people just stop caring. People will step into oncoming traffic, swim despite shark warnings, even try to poke venomous snakes without considering what a bad idea that is. It’s like...

I suppose an explanation is in order. I’ve been a little under the weather, mentally, and I haven’t had the urge to write. But that changed. I woke up, and I realized that Shane had something to say. In fact, he had a lot to say. Shane wanted to tell you about the first woman he ever killed, and if that’s not a big deal, well, I don’t know what is. So, here we are—you, me, and Shane. Don’t worry, Carl’s here too, and so is Eloise. This story is a little rough. A little darker—at least, I think...

Dark. Lonely. Isolated. Those were some of the first words that came to mind when we thought about the character who would eventually become Gray Brooks. Even his name, Gray, is suggestive of something… indistinct. Nondescriptive. It’s neither black nor white. It’s a combination of both and can’t truly be one or the other. Though largely of his own doing, Gray feels like he’s always on the outside looking in. Many of us can relate to this—to have felt that sense of loneliness from time to...

“What’s really going on?” In a horror story, it is quite important to have the reader ask that question, as a rule. And in this book, a lot goes on. Our hero has strange dreams that puzzle him. Terrifying beasts appear by night and attack the innocent, seemingly at random. A shadowy government outfit appears and offers Mortlake and Lynn some help—but they’re not sure whether to trust agencies running classified operations. So… what is really going on? This is just a preview of the strange...