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Bedlam
They called him the Bone Man...
For months he terrorised London, after the police found his hideout - with his decorations. Then they nailed him, and put him away.
Forever.
But then the dreams started coming. And the dreamers started dying. For one policeman, his nightmares told him that the Bone Man never really went away. Soon nightmares become reality, and the streets an hallucinatory maelstrom.
It's true.
The Bone Man is back.
And there's nothing anyone can do about it.
For months he terrorised London, after the police found his hideout - with his decorations. Then they nailed him, and put him away.
Forever.
But then the dreams started coming. And the dreamers started dying. For one policeman, his nightmares told him that the Bone Man never really went away. Soon nightmares become reality, and the streets an hallucinatory maelstrom.
It's true.
The Bone Man is back.
And there's nothing anyone can do about it.
- GenresHorrorScience Fiction
215 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published May 21, 1992
81 people want to read
About the author
Harry Adam Knight
8 books45 followersPseudonym of
John Brosnan
John Raymond Brosnan was an Australian writer of both fiction and non-fiction works based around the fantasy and science fiction genres. He was born in Perth, Western Australia, and died in South Harrow, London, from acute pancreatitis. He sometimes published under the pseudonyms Harry Adam Knight, Simon Ian Childer (both sometimes used together with Leroy Kettle), James Blackstone (used together with John Baxter), and John Raymond. Three not very successful movies were based on his novels–Beyond Bedlam (aka Nightscare), Proteus (based on Slimer), and Carnosaur. In addition to science fiction, he also wrote a number of books about cinema and was a regular columnist with the popular UK magazine Starburst.
John Raymond Brosnan was an Australian writer of both fiction and non-fiction works based around the fantasy and science fiction genres. He was born in Perth, Western Australia, and died in South Harrow, London, from acute pancreatitis. He sometimes published under the pseudonyms Harry Adam Knight, Simon Ian Childer (both sometimes used together with Leroy Kettle), James Blackstone (used together with John Baxter), and John Raymond. Three not very successful movies were based on his novels–Beyond Bedlam (aka Nightscare), Proteus (based on Slimer), and Carnosaur. In addition to science fiction, he also wrote a number of books about cinema and was a regular columnist with the popular UK magazine Starburst.
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
October 16, 2025
What I thought was going to be a sort of weird psychological thriller type book with some kind of mind control turned out to be a really good book that had the above but crossed into "Nightmare On Elm Street" sort of. People start to see things that are not there and do things to themselves and others that is not very nice. It's not dreams that do it. It's a drug given to a mass murderer who takes over a few miles of town and its people. The cop who put him away years ago and the very scientist who brought him to town to work on him are the ones who have to stop him. Very nice.
May 16, 2011
There are essentially two different kinds of B-movie horror, a genre I'm terribly fond of. The first kind is the so called creature-feature, wherein oversized animals go on the rampage eating lots of people until a handsome but gruff hero with a painful past, and an attractive but snarky heroine with a painful past team up and not only destroy the oversized rats/cats/bats/marmots/whatever, but also destroy their own inner demons. And they all live happily ever after. Except for the large animals. They don't live happily ever after because they're dead.
The second kind of B-movie horror is the splatterfest. In these the foe isn't a gerbil of epic proportions with a taste for human blood, instead it's usually just a plain old person, but with a taste for human blood. Armed with a hacksaw and a hammer and a bevel edged chisel, they'll amble slowly after screaming cheerleaders in dark forests before killing them in some suitably gruesome fashion. Occasionally there's a supernatural air to the whole thing, the killer is really a demon or a ghost or zombie-grandma.
When it comes to films I prefer the creature-feature. B-movies are supposed to be fun, something you watch with friends and enjoy because they're so bad that they're actually good. It's easy to laugh at and enjoy the antics of a fifty foot long salamander whose diet consists of extras who can't act. It's often less fun to laugh at the antics of a sadistic serial killer whose victims are extras who can't act.
However, when it comes to books my experience with B-movie-esque fiction was limited to the outstandingly terrible Slugs by Shaun Hutson. This was for a long time the Worst Book I'd Ever Read. And not in any "so bad it's good" kind of way, the book was unmitigated feculence. I believe it got turned into a movie too, maybe that would be better, but the book broke my willing suspension of disbelief (and my willing suspension of disbelief is made of veritable adamantium, fact fans) and didn't even have a decent story to make up for it.
Bedlam is the second B-movie book I've read, and this one is definitely of the splattery variety. It starts in pretty grim fashion, with the antagonist – a rather distasteful serial killer – tricking a lady into killing her boyfriend then dealing with her himself. And it doesn't really pause for breath much thereafter. A third of the way into the book it suddenly makes a rather bold plot-shift which works out nicely, turning the book very much into a supernatural gore-fest. The area of London the book is set in literally becomes hell on Earth for the latter half of the book, and Harry Adam Knight is happy to shift his perspective from the two heroes (gruff male cop and hot female scientist) to the other residents of the area to show some of the gruesome fates that they're being forced to experience.
Suffice it to say that if you're squeamish about anything then this book really isn't for you. There's cannibalism, skinning alive, animal cruelty, necrorape, knitting, and more besides. And while I probably wouldn't have enjoyed a film of this (they didn't make one, fortunately), the book was surprisingly enjoyable. It certainly restored my faith in B-movie fiction, which after Slugs was no mean feat at all.
The second kind of B-movie horror is the splatterfest. In these the foe isn't a gerbil of epic proportions with a taste for human blood, instead it's usually just a plain old person, but with a taste for human blood. Armed with a hacksaw and a hammer and a bevel edged chisel, they'll amble slowly after screaming cheerleaders in dark forests before killing them in some suitably gruesome fashion. Occasionally there's a supernatural air to the whole thing, the killer is really a demon or a ghost or zombie-grandma.
When it comes to films I prefer the creature-feature. B-movies are supposed to be fun, something you watch with friends and enjoy because they're so bad that they're actually good. It's easy to laugh at and enjoy the antics of a fifty foot long salamander whose diet consists of extras who can't act. It's often less fun to laugh at the antics of a sadistic serial killer whose victims are extras who can't act.
However, when it comes to books my experience with B-movie-esque fiction was limited to the outstandingly terrible Slugs by Shaun Hutson. This was for a long time the Worst Book I'd Ever Read. And not in any "so bad it's good" kind of way, the book was unmitigated feculence. I believe it got turned into a movie too, maybe that would be better, but the book broke my willing suspension of disbelief (and my willing suspension of disbelief is made of veritable adamantium, fact fans) and didn't even have a decent story to make up for it.
Bedlam is the second B-movie book I've read, and this one is definitely of the splattery variety. It starts in pretty grim fashion, with the antagonist – a rather distasteful serial killer – tricking a lady into killing her boyfriend then dealing with her himself. And it doesn't really pause for breath much thereafter. A third of the way into the book it suddenly makes a rather bold plot-shift which works out nicely, turning the book very much into a supernatural gore-fest. The area of London the book is set in literally becomes hell on Earth for the latter half of the book, and Harry Adam Knight is happy to shift his perspective from the two heroes (gruff male cop and hot female scientist) to the other residents of the area to show some of the gruesome fates that they're being forced to experience.
Suffice it to say that if you're squeamish about anything then this book really isn't for you. There's cannibalism, skinning alive, animal cruelty, necrorape, knitting, and more besides. And while I probably wouldn't have enjoyed a film of this (they didn't make one, fortunately), the book was surprisingly enjoyable. It certainly restored my faith in B-movie fiction, which after Slugs was no mean feat at all.
July 24, 2025
The Bone Man sounds like he should have been an 80s porn star, not an 80s serial killer.
October 1, 2025
This is the 4th book I’ve read from Brosnan, and I must say this was quite a significant let down. The plot had potential, but the writing was all over the place.
While it is consistent in Brosnan’s writing that none of the characters are particularly likeable, and that women are always framed in a fairly misogynistic light, the “gimmick” those factors have had in other works which made it seem like the author was at least in on the joke, really fell flat in Bedlam, and this made the book just plain draining to read.
~Spoilers and Triggering Content Ahead~
In other novels, such as the Fungus, Slimer, Carnosaur, the horror and shock factor was fun. Just gruesome enough to physically cringe, but not too gruesome that you couldn’t laugh about it. In Bedlam however, the horror was trying too hard to be over-the-top and shocking. Foetus rain, being orally raped by a charred, reanimated corpse, really? It just made me want to gag and roll my eyes. It was just empty gore which added nothing to the story and relied on misogyny.
~Spoilers End~
To conclude my mini review, not a good book. Not the worst book I’ve ever read, but certainly not something I’ll be recommending to anyone.
While it is consistent in Brosnan’s writing that none of the characters are particularly likeable, and that women are always framed in a fairly misogynistic light, the “gimmick” those factors have had in other works which made it seem like the author was at least in on the joke, really fell flat in Bedlam, and this made the book just plain draining to read.
~Spoilers and Triggering Content Ahead~
In other novels, such as the Fungus, Slimer, Carnosaur, the horror and shock factor was fun. Just gruesome enough to physically cringe, but not too gruesome that you couldn’t laugh about it. In Bedlam however, the horror was trying too hard to be over-the-top and shocking. Foetus rain, being orally raped by a charred, reanimated corpse, really? It just made me want to gag and roll my eyes. It was just empty gore which added nothing to the story and relied on misogyny.
~Spoilers End~
To conclude my mini review, not a good book. Not the worst book I’ve ever read, but certainly not something I’ll be recommending to anyone.
August 9, 2020
Not as well executed or as interesting as his other novels, Slimer and The Fungus. The writing is sloppy in places, using serial killer and mass murderer interchangeably for example, and the plot is a bit plodding at times.
May 16, 2021
Nowhere near as schlocky and enjoyable as Knight's other books; perfectly readable but standard horror.
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews