Joseph Miles' rock band, Caster, is winding down after a decade spent trying to remain relevant. On his way to Caster's farewell performance, Joseph stops at a small Mississippi pawn shop to check out the guitars. When he carries a beat up, old six-string out the door, he has no idea that the instrument is harboring a spiritual fugitive. This dark manifestation of a people's suffering soon possesses him and sets about using him to exact its revenge. Now it's up to Joseph's wife, Della, and his best friend, Milt, to save Joseph before the thing inside him kills them all.
What do rock ‘n rollers do when they are past their prime? Apparently, they murder people. A lot of people. And ‘butcher’ would be a better choice of words.
Thomas Raven’s Caster (can’t help but see at least a passing connection from the title to a classic Kiss song) starts with rock n’ roll and transforms into a horror/action/crime novel that somehow manages to roll mythology, physics, and the Delta blues into a cohesive whole. The situations the characters are placed in are fantastical, yet these same characters serve to ground the novel in present-day reality, and Raven has some fun along the way playing with the contrast. It also doesn’t hurt that Raven has a King-esque penchant for internal dialogue and commentary that provides insight into the characters while playing with the darkly-humorous undertones of southern vernacular.
If there is a criticism, it is that the world of these aging rock ‘n’ rollers does not get enough attention before their world goes to hell (or hel, if you like). The idea of once-popular rockers now confined to a world of has-been shows is worth developing further (and not just for Spinal Tap cheap humor), as is Raven’s interest in blues mythology and its connection to modern rock.
Still, these are minor quibbles, particularly since much of that backstory is jettisoned in favor of forward momentum. Maybe a prequel? This world of rock gods and 4th dimensional Gods is certainly worth a return visit.