![]() ![]() Later I found a copy - pretty sure it was Artifacts in Hood River, OR - and immediately snatched it up. ![]() I first heard of Childmare through a reader who remembered one of those tasteless scenes but not the title of the book, and another, sharp-eyed reader was able to identify this book as the culprit. At times I even forgot it wasn't written by Herbert! But these are not criticisms at all, not for a moment: Childmare is a rip-roaring ride with some nicely tasteless moments of bizarre violence and cruelty that I think will make quite an impression on horror lovers. Appropriately enough, I was reading it when James Herbert died, because Childmare is 100% in the Herbert tradition of fast-paced, graphic pulp horror, filled with snippets of everyday British life and locales. It's a horror novel that almost voyeuristically revels in death and destruction, both up close and at a distance. This quote is the essence of Childmare (Signet, June 1981). ![]()
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