What is it about New England towns that bring horror to mind?
Is it the fact so many of them are isolated? Is it because they never seem to change?
I think it’s a combination of different ingredients. Yes, we have the isolation. And, yes, New England towns certainly seem resistant to change. More than either of those two, though, is the sense of magic in the towns.
Not the hocus pocus that a stage magician brings—no, this is the dark stuff.
The stuff of the Salem Witch Trials and the howlings of the Puritans.
This is the blackness of the human heart spilling out into narrow streets and seeping into the wooden timbers of ancient homes.
For me, Anger, New Hampshire, is the personification of this.
In these stories, you’ll get a little taste of what it’s like to live in Anger. True, Anger isn’t a real place but rather a conglomeration of places. It is a melding of towns I have known, loved, and to be brutally honest, feared.
Anger is a place that could exist. Ask some of your friends about the far-off reaches of New England. There are towns where the people vanished, abandoned buildings that appear in the middle of the forest.
Legends of ghosts and murders abound, and there is always, always a terrible seed of truth to them.
I think you’ll like Anger, New Hampshire. Not just for the stories but because you don’t live there.
Other volumes in the series:
Leave a Reply