This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on September 18, 2025.

The Buffalo Hunter Hunter

By Stephen Graham Jones – S&S/Saga Press – March 18, 2025

Review by Robin Marx

As The Buffalo Hunter Hunter begins, Etsy Beaucarne is struggling with an undistinguished academic career. A surprising opportunity falls in her lap, however, after a distant relative’s crumbling journal is discovered hidden in the walls of a decrepit parsonage. Penned in 1912 by her great-great-grandfather Arthur, a Lutheran pastor posted in Montana, Etsy hopes to use the manuscript as the springboard for a new research project, ideally leading to publications and tenure. But as transcriptions of the brittle and faded pages are delivered, she discovers a much darker and more troubling narrative than expected.

The premise established, Etsy’s story fades into the background. The Beaucarne Manuscript makes up the bulk of The Buffalo Hunter Hunter. Arthur Beaucarne’s religious ministrations to the small town of Miles City are disrupted when an ominous stranger begins attending his sermons. Invariably seated in the rearmost pew, the visitor is a Native American man dressed incongruously in a black Jesuit robe, battered cavalry boots, and dark glasses. Disturbed by the man’s intense scrutiny, Arthur nevertheless finds himself fascinated by the visitor. Eventually the Indian approaches Arthur after a Sunday service, introducing himself as Good Stab of the Pikuni (Piegan Blackfeet tribe), and says that he has come to the church to confess his sins. Over a series of weekly visits—the chapel dimmed so as not to aggravate his unusual sensitivity to light—Good Stab unburdens his soul, and Arthur dutifully recounts the man’s anecdotes in his journal.

During his first visit, Good Stab describes encountering the scene of a bizarre massacre, with dead white men surrounding a wagon containing a caged and hissing chalk-white man with fangs. After a series of catastrophes, the so-called “Cat Man” escapes from his prison and Good Stab undergoes a traumatic metamorphosis.

Between Good Stab’s visits, mutilated and exsanguinated human bodies begin appearing outside Miles City, partially skinned in apparent imitation of the wasteful fashion of white hunters of buffalo. Arthur quickly draws a connection between the corpses and his unusual guest and begins to investigate. Over time he begins to suspect an ulterior motive underlying Good Stab’s visits.

As it makes clear surprisingly early on, this book is a vampire novel. The Buffalo Hunter Hunter shares some superficial elements with Anne Rice’s 1976 Interview with the Vampire, and fans of the latter are likely to enjoy Stephen Graham Jones’ novel. But it’s also simultaneously a compelling revenge tale that deals unflinchingly with the Native Americans’ genocide at the hands of white colonizers. Rage, guilt, and regret feature prominently, and Good Stab’s anguish is powerfully rendered. Jones is himself of Blackfeet heritage, and it felt like the historical setting gave the author license to write about his ancestors’ plight in a more unfiltered and immediate way than his works set in the modern day.

Literary weightiness aside, The Buffalo Hunter Hunter is a particularly original vampire story. The Old West setting is fresh, as is the fact that—in Jones’ world—vampires literally are what they eat. Vampires begin to take on characteristics of the creatures they habitually consume. Too much deer blood and stubby antlers begin to sprout, for example. The same principle extends to human prey; when Good Stab subsists on white victims, he grows to resemble them, gaining a pale skin tone and scraggly beard. If he is to maintain his original form, he’s forced to devour his own people. It could be argued that this is a metaphor for cultural assimilation: associate too much with the white man and Good Stab begins to become one, but isolating himself among his fellow Pikuni is likewise harmful and unsustainable in the long term.

Beyond this novel depiction of vampirism, the book also boasts an abundance of chilling moments. With unlimited time at their disposal, The Buffalo Hunter Hunter repeatedly demonstrates that a sufficiently patient and motivated vampire can concoct tortures of breathtaking malice. Fates literally worse than death.

The Buffalo Hunter Hunter benefits from the strong and distinct voices of its two primary narrators, Good Stab and Arthur Beaucarne. Both are unreliable narrators in their own way. Good Stab is fond of using colorfully literal translations of his people’s words for animals (big mouth, blackhorn, real-bear, prairie-runner, etc.), but he occasionally slips and betrays a more fluent command of American English than the disarming Indian stereotype he playacts as. Arthur, on the other hand, reveals a tendency to dance around sensitive topics, to avoid examining or grappling with the uncomfortable until it’s too late.

Unfortunately, the robust characterization on display with Good Stab and Arthur ends up making the novel’s primary flaw more visible. When the Beaucarne Manuscript concludes, the narrative returns to the present day, with Etsy left to deal with her great-great-grandfather’s disturbing legacy. But because readers have spent so little time with Etsy, she feels much less satisfying as a viewpoint character. Good Stab and Arthur’s words are given heft by a lightly archaic style and the weight of history, while Etsy is just a modern gal with modern job frustrations and a cute cat. Relatable, but underequipped for the task of carrying such a heavy story’s ending. Perhaps this issue could have been ameliorated by having Etsy resurface periodically during the middle portion of the book to share her reactions and own investigative footwork, rather than showing up for a few brief pages in the beginning and then reappearing only to shoulder the last tenth of the book. The violence depicted in the finale also felt tonally different than what readers had been presented with previously. Less gritty, more gonzo.

Despite the comparatively weak finish, The Buffalo Hunter Hunter remains the most original and exciting vampire novel in years. Stephen Graham Jones has released many strong books in a short span of time, but this one is particularly passionate and multidimensional. While I suspect Jones’ best work is still ahead of him, The Buffalo Hunter Hunter stands out even among an already robust catalog of work.

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This review originally appeared in New Edge Sword & Sorcery Magazine Issue #3, released on December 9, 2024.

Shared World

By Jonathan Ball, GMB Chomichuk, James Gillespie, Chadwick Ginther – Stranger Fiction Inc. – November 20, 2023

Review by Robin Marx

Released under the auspices of Jonathan Ball’s Stranger Fiction Inc., Shared World collects six short stories by four Canadian authors, all taking place within the same jointly created Sword & Sorcery setting. While the concept of a shared Sword & Sorcery world immediately summons to mind Robert Asprin’s enduring Thieves' World series, surprisingly no acknowledgment is made of this antecedent. Instead, Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s introduction hearkens back to the days of Weird Tales magazine, when names and motifs from H. P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu Mythos horror stories began cropping up in the more fantasy-oriented creations of his correspondents Robert E. Howard, C.L. Moore, and Clark Ashton Smith. The argument is that not only is there a long history of cross-fertilization between authors working in the pulp fantasy milieu, but that elements of Lovecraft’s Mythos in particular have had a strong presence in Sword & Sorcery fiction since the earliest days of the genre. Shared World is positioned as an heir to this literary tradition.

The setting of Shared World is a post-apocalyptic one. In the distant past, a great human civilization approached godhood. A mysterious calamity wiped out their kingdoms, however, leaving their monolithic ruins scattered across the shunned and monster-infested Once Lands. Various tribal societies keep to the less inhospitable margins of the wilderness, but one dominant metropolis has coalesced in the form of Khyber, a mighty city serving as a central gateway to three continents. Elements of the Cthulhu Mythos are prominent in Shared World, with several stories concerned with strange gods of the “dead but dreaming” persuasion. The tales are united by a central tension between characters striving to keep those ancient gods dormant and those seeking to hasten their return.

While the stories are presented in a mixed order for variety’s sake, each of the Shared World contributors has a particular focus. For example, both stories co-written by GMB Chomichuk and James Gillespie deal with members of the Vani, a tribal people, and begin with the same inciting incident: a Vani apparently driven mad by greed has slain the Spear King and sold his seven children into slavery. “Kaa-Rokaan,” the first story in this diptych, involves a Vani scout who ventures forth to rescue the enslaved tribesmen. Rokaan is assisted in his task by the totem spirit, or “Kaa,” of a crow. While he is initially disappointed in not being chosen by a more martial totem like Bear or Boar, Rokaan eventually comes to appreciate his spiritual ally’s strengths as he deals with the alien obstacles barring the path to his enslaved comrades. “Kaa-Shufa,” the second entry by Chomichuk and Gillespie, follows the Bear totem warrior woman tasked with pursuing Lothar, the traitor who killed the Spear King and sold his offspring. Shufa learns that Lothar’s heinous crime was motivated by desperation, and the two become uneasy allies in a quest that leads them deep underground, where yellow lichen-infected cultists attend to an alien god on the verge of an apocalyptic awakening. The Chomichuk/Gillespie stories are an intriguing blend of First Nations mythology and Lovecraftian horror, with resourceful heroes and their inscrutable spiritual allies pitted against eldritch threats.

Chadwick Ginther’s two contributions to the anthology are set in Khyber, a crowded and colorful metropolis pleasingly reminiscent of Fritz Leiber’s Lankhmar, or Sanctuary of Thieves' World fame. In “When the Gods Send You Rats,” a heavily tattooed midwife (inscribed with songbirds for babies delivered and crows for enemy lives taken) is attacked by a humaniform swarm of rats bearing an enchanted crown. She joins forces with the Rat-King, one of Khyber’s ubiquitous Rat-Catchers, and the pair soon discover that the rodents of Khyber are attempting to summon an extradimensional entity that threatens to devour the entire city. “Red” is another excursion deep below Khyber. When her dissolute haberdasher brother Needle is abducted under mysterious circumstances, deadly swordswoman Redala visits a string of Diviners and disreputable underworld figures in an effort to pick up his trail. While we only get a small taste of the setting, both of Ginther’s stories present Khyber as a bustling and chaotic city filled with bizarre communities, each with their own social codes and mores—fertile ground for Sword & Sorcery adventures.

Jonathan Ball’s pair of stories return to the tribal side of the setting. Both tales feature Draxas, a beastlike woman cast out from the matriarchal Shaaraka cannibals for the heresy of atheism. In “There Were Once Words,” Draxas tracks a hooded sorcerer through blighted wildernesses, eager to learn about the sleeping gods he serves. She ends up with more than she bargained for in her final confrontation with the sorcerer. “Circle of Stones” is a sequel that deals with the fallout of her fateful encounter with the sorcerer. Half of the story is a flashback dealing with Draxas’ bloody expulsion from the Shaaraka, and the remainder centers on her newfound devotion to dark gods. Ball’s entries emphasize mood over plot, and Draxas is an interesting—if challenging—character. Clad in leather of human origin and messily slurping the marrow from women’s bones, it wasn’t until a few pages into her introduction that it became clear Draxas was intended to be human, rather than a ghoul or some other monster.

Despite its regrettably bland title, Shared World is a fascinating literary experiment. The anthology was released simultaneously with Khyber, a companion collection of stories by Ginther. Although they have not yet appeared at the time of this writing, Once Lands by Chomichuk & Gillespie has been announced, as well as Draxas by Ball. The Shared World project’s website has an open call for contributors, and it will be interesting to see if the Once Lands are adopted by writers outside of this initial circle. With plenty of space for further development, Shared World offers a tantalizing look at a Lovecraftian Sword & Sorcery setting boasting a lot of potential.

#ReviewArchive #BookReview #Fantasy #SwordAndSorcery #SharedWorld #JonathanBall #GMBChomichuk #JamesGillespie #ChadwickGinther #NewEdgeSwordAndSorcery #NESS

This review originally appeared in Old Moon Quarterly Vol. 6, released on January 16, 2024.

Tales From The Magician’s Skull – No. 11

Edited by Howard Andrew Jones – Goodman Publications – August 18, 2013

Review by Robin Marx

Tales From The Magician’s Skull No. 11 collects eight new Sword & Sorcery stories curated by Howard Andrew Jones. It features cover artwork by fantasy paperback master Sanjulian, and each story is illustrated by artists including Jason Edwards, Tom Galambos, and Stefan Poag.

“Test of the Runeweavers,” by H. T. Grossen, receives the cover treatment for this issue. Young Frode, a member of the Viking-inspired Aegirvarg people, embarks on his first ocean voyage as an apprentice runerikr, or wielder of spoken rune-based magic. Investigating mysterious coastal raids, Frode and his fellows encounter strangers from a far-off land with their own potent ideograph-based magic. This brisk story covers a great deal of territory despite its slim page count, and the rune magic feels flashy and novel.

“Lady of the Frost” is the latest Shintaro Oba tale by C. L. Werner, a name that should be familiar to fans of Warhammer and Games Workshop’s Black Library imprint. As with previous installments, wandering samurai Oba comes into conflict with a supernatural threat from Japanese folklore. “Lady of the Frost” is a solid example of sword & sorcery adventure in an underrepresented setting.

Trespassing in temples devoted to bizarre and malign gods is a common (and exciting!) trope in sword & sorcery, but if this issue has a flaw, it’s the inclusion of three such stories in a single installment. Bill Pearce’s “The Eyes of Rath Kanon” is the first of this issue’s unadvertised evil temple trilogy. The twisty plot and shifting loyalties intrigued, but despite a strong start and conclusion it felt like the middle portion of this contribution lacked the propulsive momentum found in the other stories.

“Ghostwise” by Caias Ward was the highlight of the issue, and a story I suspect Old Moon Quarterly readers are especially predisposed to enjoy. Dark-skinned but with chalk-white hands, gun-slinging mystic Obba Babatunde is summoned to a king’s court to attend to a haunted princess with identical markings. Like Obba himself, Princess Jansynth exists simultaneously in both the realms of the living and the dead, making her vulnerable to constant ghostly attacks unless she can build up her own defenses. As she struggles to keep her soul intact, Jansynth learns a devastating truth about her spectral tormentor and her own heritage. Cleverly plotted, “Ghostwise” reminds me of the early Witcher short stories by Andrzej Sapkowski, where the true monster isn’t always obvious at first glance. Ward’s hero and his talents are worthy of further elaboration, and I hope to see more Obba stories in the future.

Set in Earth in ancient times rather than a secondary world, Mark Mellon’s “Melkart and the Whore of Babylon” masterfully transforms antiquity into a lush and decadent sword & sorcery setting. Envious of her influence on Babylon’s populace, King Belshazzar plots to use a religious ceremony as cover and assassinate Inanna, the priestess of Ishtar, replacing both her and the goddess she serves with a more amenable sect. Unwilling to participate in such a dastardly scheme, Belshazzar’s hired sword Melkart immediately reveals the conspiracy to Inanna, offering himself as her protector at great personal risk. Just as the odds seem insurmountable, “Melkart and the Whore of Babylon” concludes with a truly epic finale.

Dawn Vogel’s “Kick in the Door and Improvise” distinguishes itself from the other stories by virtue of its humor. Unable to infiltrate a castle due to the bright moon overhead, two thieves hired to steal a king’s crown seek magical assistance. A sorcerer offers to dim the moon to hide their approach, provided they can collect all the ingredients required for the spell on a tight schedule. The final heist itself ends up almost an afterthought; most of the story concerns itself with the hunt for an elusive black pearl. The wry, freewheeling tone and focus on spell components pleasantly reminded me of the Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves film, and the story offered a refreshing change of pace from the uniformly serious tales composing the rest of the issue.

In “The Lens of Being,” by Daniel Amatiello, a pirate queen stumbles across a menacing cult lurking in a cliff-side temple complex on the coast of India. While the heretical Buddhist sect featured in the story had great potential, its aims and methods felt underdeveloped and the climactic monster too familiar. Not a bad story, but it suffers by appearing alongside two other temple raid stories.

The issue ends on a particularly strong note with “Bound in Brass and Iron,” by Matthew X. Gomez. When partially devoured bodies start turning up at the scene of a newly constructed temple, Liam the Black is hired to investigate. The trail leads him into a deeper temple, where a forgotten demon strains against its binding. This is the best of the issue’s unofficial evil temple trilogy, with a resourceful hero, fascinating spellcraft, and tense action.

Each issue of Tales From The Magician’s Skull concludes with a brief appendix called “The Monster Pit,” featuring game statistics of the monsters appearing in the various stories for use with publisher Goodman Games’ Dungeon Crawl Classics roleplaying game. It’s a gimmick, but a fun one that hopefully encourages tabletop gamers to engage more with the literary roots of their hobby.

Since launching in 2018, Tales From The Magician’s Skull quickly established itself as a quality venue for fantasy tales written in the pulp adventure tradition, and both the fiction and the artwork in this issue maintains that high level of excellence. Tales From The Magician’s Skull benefits from a tight focus on sword & sorcery, making it a one-stop venue for fast-paced fantasy action.

#ReviewArchive #BookReview #Fantasy #SwordAndSorcery #HowardAndrewJones #TalesFromTheMagiciansSkull #OldMoonQuarterly

This review originally appeared in New Edge Sword & Sorcery Magazine Issue #1, released on November 30, 2023.

Woman of the Woods

By Milton J. Davis – MVmedia, LLC – June 13, 2013

Review by Robin Marx

While Charles R. Saunders may have founded the “Sword and Soul” sub-genre of fantasy, Milton Davis has quickly become one of the field's most indefatigable contributors and promoters. Through his publishing house MVmedia and via collaborations with other creators (including Saunders himself, prior to his 2020 passing), Davis continuously works to create and lend a platform to African- and African diaspora-inspired fantasy and science fiction literature.

Set in the world of Uhuru, which previously appeared in Milton's Meji series, Woman of the Woods follows the adventures of Sadatina. Born to a member of the Shosa, an elite corp of spiritually-imbued fighting women who are forbidden from possessing families of their own, Sadatina is bequeathed to a warm but humble farming family. Even separated from her birth mother, Sadatina distinguishes herself from her adopted family with her superior athletic and hunting ability.

Tragedy strikes, however, when at the tender age of 13 she finds herself drawn into an inter-generational conflict between her people—the Adamu—and the Mosele. Driven from their lands by the encroachment of the Adamu, the Mosele have submitted to the dark god Karan. While the Mosele's counter-invasion was barely fended off long ago, ever since the Adamu have been plagued by sporadic attacks from Karan's servitors: demonic creatures called nyoka (“serpent” in Swahili). One such raid claims the lives of Sadatina's family. She vows revenge, making a home in the wilderness and hunting the nyoka with the assistance of her inborn martial ability and her loyal “sisters”: a pair of orphaned lionesses Sadatina has raised since they were cubs. Viewed with both awe and fear by the people of surrounding settlements, she becomes known as the “Woman of the Woods.”

Her solitary battle does not last long, however. Word of her nyoka-slaying prowess spreads as attacks intensify, and she is sought out by the Shosa as a potential recruit. Sadatina is suspicious of urban society and hierarchy, but the threat of Karan's nyoka grows by the day. Her own quest for vengeance and the needs of her people inevitably push her into assuming a central role in the conflict. Over time she gains new skills and weapons, but also heavy responsibilities and nagging doubts.

Gender is handled in a nuanced fashion in Woman of the Woods. The Shosa warrior women are an accepted and valued part of society, but they are also a breed apart. One must be chosen by the god Cha to join their ranks, and—while Sadatina is allowed an uncommon degree of autonomy—refusing to join is generally not an option for the average villager. They are the symbolic wives of the Adamu people's leader and, while celibacy is not required, bearing children is forbidden and harshly punished. Non-Shosa girls and women appear expected to adhere to traditional gender roles. As presented in Woman of the Woods, Uhuru is neither an egalitarian utopia nor a setting where only the heroine is allowed to occupy a place outside marriage and childbearing.

Religion also plays a central role in Woman of the Woods. The Adamu f