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When a terrorist bomb devastates an exclusive junior school in Hollywood, killing the sons and daughters of many famous TV and movie actors and producers, all hell breaks loose. Among the many dead is Danny Bell, the son of successful comedy writer Frank Bell. Responsibility for the blast is claimed by a group who say that they want to put the decadent Western media out of business for good. But when Frank meets up with another survivor of the blast, the strange and alluring Astrid, he begins to question if this was a terrorist attack at all. As more bombs go off, causing havoc at TV studios and theme parks, Frank enlists Astrid's help and that of a celebrated psychic detective and at last begins to piece together the tragic secret behind the terror campaign. Soon his eyes are opened to a world in which the dead are never gone for ever. But he also has to come face to face with real and absolute evil . . .
360 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2002
8 people are currently reading
193 people want to read
About the author
Graham Masterton
423 books1,993 followersGraham Masterton was born in Edinburgh in 1946. His grandfather was Thomas Thorne Baker, the eminent scientist who invented DayGlo and was the first man to transmit news photographs by wireless. After training as a newspaper reporter, Graham went on to edit the new British men's magazine Mayfair, where he encouraged William Burroughs to develop a series of scientific and philosophical articles which eventually became Burroughs' novel The Wild Boys.
At the age of 24, Graham was appointed executive editor of both Penthouse and Penthouse Forum magazines. At this time he started to write a bestselling series of sex 'how-to' books including How To Drive Your Man Wild In Bed which has sold over 3 million copies worldwide. His latest, Wild Sex For New Lovers is published by Penguin Putnam in January, 2001. He is a regular contributor to Cosmopolitan, Men's Health, Woman, Woman's Own and other mass-market self-improvement magazines.
Graham Masterton's debut as a horror author began with The Manitou in 1976, a chilling tale of a Native American medicine man reborn in the present day to exact his revenge on the white man. It became an instant bestseller and was filmed with Tony Curtis, Susan Strasberg, Burgess Meredith, Michael Ansara, Stella Stevens and Ann Sothern.
Altogether Graham has written more than a hundred novels ranging from thrillers (The Sweetman Curve, Ikon) to disaster novels (Plague, Famine) to historical sagas (Rich and Maiden Voyage - both appeared in the New York Times bestseller list). He has published four collections of short stories, Fortnight of Fear, Flights of Fear, Faces of Fear and Feelings of Fear.
He has also written horror novels for children (House of Bones, Hair-Raiser) and has just finished the fifth volume in a very popular series for young adults, Rook, based on the adventures of an idiosyncratic remedial English teacher in a Los Angeles community college who has the facility to see ghosts.
Since then Graham has published more than 35 horror novels, including Charnel House, which was awarded a Special Edgar by Mystery Writers of America; Mirror, which was awarded a Silver Medal by West Coast Review of Books; and Family Portrait, an update of Oscar Wilde's tale, The Picture of Dorian Gray, which was the only non-French winner of the prestigious Prix Julia Verlanger in France.
He and his wife Wiescka live in a Gothic Victorian mansion high above the River Lee in Cork, Ireland.
At the age of 24, Graham was appointed executive editor of both Penthouse and Penthouse Forum magazines. At this time he started to write a bestselling series of sex 'how-to' books including How To Drive Your Man Wild In Bed which has sold over 3 million copies worldwide. His latest, Wild Sex For New Lovers is published by Penguin Putnam in January, 2001. He is a regular contributor to Cosmopolitan, Men's Health, Woman, Woman's Own and other mass-market self-improvement magazines.
Graham Masterton's debut as a horror author began with The Manitou in 1976, a chilling tale of a Native American medicine man reborn in the present day to exact his revenge on the white man. It became an instant bestseller and was filmed with Tony Curtis, Susan Strasberg, Burgess Meredith, Michael Ansara, Stella Stevens and Ann Sothern.
Altogether Graham has written more than a hundred novels ranging from thrillers (The Sweetman Curve, Ikon) to disaster novels (Plague, Famine) to historical sagas (Rich and Maiden Voyage - both appeared in the New York Times bestseller list). He has published four collections of short stories, Fortnight of Fear, Flights of Fear, Faces of Fear and Feelings of Fear.
He has also written horror novels for children (House of Bones, Hair-Raiser) and has just finished the fifth volume in a very popular series for young adults, Rook, based on the adventures of an idiosyncratic remedial English teacher in a Los Angeles community college who has the facility to see ghosts.
Since then Graham has published more than 35 horror novels, including Charnel House, which was awarded a Special Edgar by Mystery Writers of America; Mirror, which was awarded a Silver Medal by West Coast Review of Books; and Family Portrait, an update of Oscar Wilde's tale, The Picture of Dorian Gray, which was the only non-French winner of the prestigious Prix Julia Verlanger in France.
He and his wife Wiescka live in a Gothic Victorian mansion high above the River Lee in Cork, Ireland.
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Displaying 1 - 28 of 28 reviews
October 27, 2021
Frank Bell, a writer for a hit TV show, arrives at school late with his son, Danny, one morning and within minutes a bomb goes off, killing children and teachers. Frank is spared and it seems his son Danny is alright as well, so he walks off to see if he can help anyone. He meets a woman, Astrid, in the chaos. He gets back to Danny and finds the little boy dead. Frank’s wife blames him and rejects him and he feels himself drawn to Astrid. She comforts him. He is cooperating with the police in a hunt to find who’s behind this bombing. Before two weeks go by there have been other bombings in Hollywood, practically shutting it down. Almost every studio has been hit. Astrid’s been hit as well and it’s making Frank very angry that someone is beating on her. I had a few things figured out by the time I was halfway through the story. It is rather a supernatural mystery, so I came to a few conclusions. I didn’t figure the whole thing out, though. This was a very fast read and I liked Frank’s character and I liked the psychic detective, Nevile Strange, too. They were both interesting. It was my first Graham Masterton story.
June 25, 2012
Graham Masterton is a legendary B list horror author – not in the King/Koontz/Saul/Barker league, but very much in the Herbert/Campbell/McCammon one. Since he is British, I’ll allow myself to say that while he’s not quite upper class, he’s certainly upper middle class.
And yet, his style, dryly elegant and witty in unexpected places, has always been evenly balanced between Len Deighton and Dashiel Hammett. A pleasure to read, if you’re in it for certain types of prose, as I am.
Like all living horror giants, he was born in the 40’s. In the past he made efforts to write epic adventures like Plague, Death Dream, Manitou, and The Wells of Hell, suppressing his Britishness, and achieving a vaguely American international vibe.
Likewise, although obviously best suited for private-eye/depressed spy/social satire type of novel, Masterton has valiantly forced himself to maintain a steady output of said horror epics. But, like many of his generation who are now all in their hundred and twenties, Mr. Masterton seems to have run out of fucks to give and writes how he wants to.
Innocent Blood (2004) is a terrorist/ghost story set in Hollywood, and character-wise Masterton immediately starts out with the classic British horror mix (Campbell; Hutson) of the universal horror of being wrongly accused, with the specifically British horror of people being unreasonable. Five chapters in, all masks are shed, and this becomes a vaguely American plot written by Tom Sharpe or an uncharacteristically smooth Ben Elton.
Some favorite quotes:
Frank drove to Sherman Oaks to see his sister Carol, who lived with her husband, Smitty, and their three children in a large, scruffy house on the corner of Stone Canyon Avenue. The front lawn was always strewn with scooters and Action Man toys and Smitty’s lime-green ’68 Plymouth Barracuda was always jacked up in the driveway, in varying degrees of dismemberment.
He walked in to find Carol in her saucepan-cluttered kitchen, trying to make estofado. She was a hopeless cook, which was one of the reasons why Frank didn’t visit very often. The last time he had come round to dinner she had cooked chicken breasts in chili cream and he had spent the next day crouched on the toilet with his teeth chattering, praying for death. How Smitty and the kids had survived for so long he couldn’t imagine
**
He waited by the phone but Astrid didn’t call that evening, so shortly after eight o’clock he drove over to Burbank to see Margot. They were still husband and wife, after all, and he was beginning to feel guilty about leaving her to cope with her grief on her own.
Margot answered the door but Ruth was close behind her, dressed in some extraordinary hand-woven poncho with fraying edges, embroidered with a sun symbol, and baggy brown cotton pants. Margot was wearing denim dungarees and no makeup. Her face was as pale as a scrubbed potato.
‘Was there something you wanted?’ she asked him.
‘I thought we could talk.’
‘I thought you said everything you had to say when you defaced my paintings.’
‘You still believe that I did it?’
‘Do you care what I believe?’
Frank looked at Ruth and Ruth looked back at him with her usual slitty-eyed hostility. ‘Margot needs time to repair her emotional value system.’
‘Oh. I didn’t know it was broken.’
‘Of course it’s broken, Frank. Margot’s entire concept of conjugal weights and balances is in total disorder.’
Frank frowned at Margot as if he couldn’t quite remember who she was. In fact, he was trying to see in her face the reason why he had married her, and why they had conceived Danny together, and why they had stayed together for so long. But all he could see was the mole on her upper lip.
‘Is this true?’ he asked her. ‘Your ENTIRE concept of conjugal weights and balances?’
‘How can you make fun of me after what’s just happened?’
‘I’m not making fun of you, Margot. I’m making fun of a world that turns real feelings into meaningless jargon. I’m trying to tell you how sorry I am. But I’m also trying to tell you that we can’t turn the clock back. Either we’re going to share this grief together, and struggle on, and see what we can make of this marriage, or else we’re going to say that we’ve been holed below the waterline, and abandon ship, and then it’s every man for himself. Or woman,’ he added, before Rachel could say it.
Margot didn’t answer at first. Ruth came forward and took hold of her hand, giving Frank a smug proprietorial look, as if to say, you’ve lost her now; she’s mine. We’re sisters together, look at our hideous clothes and our tied-back hair and our unplucked eyebrows. We don’t need to look attractive to men because we don’t need men.
‘Frank,’ said Margot, ‘I know what you’re saying, I know how sorry you are. But I really need much more time.’
‘All right,’ Frank agreed. ‘I’m prepared to be generous. How much do you want? Two weeks, a month? A year, maybe? How about a decade?’
Then they finally looked at each other and they both knew that it was over.
Frank said, ‘I’ll have my horologist get in touch with your horologist, OK?’
**
He and Mo ended up on the veranda, by the light of a guttering torch. ‘Strange times, you know, Frank,’ said Mo. ‘One day you think you know exactly what the world is all about; you think you got all of your parameters fixed. You got steady work, you live in a nice place, you got your family all around you. Then God comes along and says, “Excuse me, may I remind you that you’re stuck by your feet by an invisible force to a ball of unstable rock which is hurtling around in a total vacuum, and that you’re obliged to share this ball of unstable rock with millions of demented people, many of whom don’t use deodorant, and some of whom would like nothing better than to pocket all of your possessions, torture your pets and blow your head off. Not only that, everything that makes this situation bearable, like cheeseburgers and whiskey and reasonably priced cigars, is going to shorten your life, and in any case you’re going to die anyhow, half-blind, half-deaf, in wet pajamas, in Pasadena.”’
Frank swallowed beer and wiped his mouth with his hand. ‘I guess that’s one way of looking at it.’
And yet, his style, dryly elegant and witty in unexpected places, has always been evenly balanced between Len Deighton and Dashiel Hammett. A pleasure to read, if you’re in it for certain types of prose, as I am.
Like all living horror giants, he was born in the 40’s. In the past he made efforts to write epic adventures like Plague, Death Dream, Manitou, and The Wells of Hell, suppressing his Britishness, and achieving a vaguely American international vibe.
Likewise, although obviously best suited for private-eye/depressed spy/social satire type of novel, Masterton has valiantly forced himself to maintain a steady output of said horror epics. But, like many of his generation who are now all in their hundred and twenties, Mr. Masterton seems to have run out of fucks to give and writes how he wants to.
Innocent Blood (2004) is a terrorist/ghost story set in Hollywood, and character-wise Masterton immediately starts out with the classic British horror mix (Campbell; Hutson) of the universal horror of being wrongly accused, with the specifically British horror of people being unreasonable. Five chapters in, all masks are shed, and this becomes a vaguely American plot written by Tom Sharpe or an uncharacteristically smooth Ben Elton.
Some favorite quotes:
Frank drove to Sherman Oaks to see his sister Carol, who lived with her husband, Smitty, and their three children in a large, scruffy house on the corner of Stone Canyon Avenue. The front lawn was always strewn with scooters and Action Man toys and Smitty’s lime-green ’68 Plymouth Barracuda was always jacked up in the driveway, in varying degrees of dismemberment.
He walked in to find Carol in her saucepan-cluttered kitchen, trying to make estofado. She was a hopeless cook, which was one of the reasons why Frank didn’t visit very often. The last time he had come round to dinner she had cooked chicken breasts in chili cream and he had spent the next day crouched on the toilet with his teeth chattering, praying for death. How Smitty and the kids had survived for so long he couldn’t imagine
**
He waited by the phone but Astrid didn’t call that evening, so shortly after eight o’clock he drove over to Burbank to see Margot. They were still husband and wife, after all, and he was beginning to feel guilty about leaving her to cope with her grief on her own.
Margot answered the door but Ruth was close behind her, dressed in some extraordinary hand-woven poncho with fraying edges, embroidered with a sun symbol, and baggy brown cotton pants. Margot was wearing denim dungarees and no makeup. Her face was as pale as a scrubbed potato.
‘Was there something you wanted?’ she asked him.
‘I thought we could talk.’
‘I thought you said everything you had to say when you defaced my paintings.’
‘You still believe that I did it?’
‘Do you care what I believe?’
Frank looked at Ruth and Ruth looked back at him with her usual slitty-eyed hostility. ‘Margot needs time to repair her emotional value system.’
‘Oh. I didn’t know it was broken.’
‘Of course it’s broken, Frank. Margot’s entire concept of conjugal weights and balances is in total disorder.’
Frank frowned at Margot as if he couldn’t quite remember who she was. In fact, he was trying to see in her face the reason why he had married her, and why they had conceived Danny together, and why they had stayed together for so long. But all he could see was the mole on her upper lip.
‘Is this true?’ he asked her. ‘Your ENTIRE concept of conjugal weights and balances?’
‘How can you make fun of me after what’s just happened?’
‘I’m not making fun of you, Margot. I’m making fun of a world that turns real feelings into meaningless jargon. I’m trying to tell you how sorry I am. But I’m also trying to tell you that we can’t turn the clock back. Either we’re going to share this grief together, and struggle on, and see what we can make of this marriage, or else we’re going to say that we’ve been holed below the waterline, and abandon ship, and then it’s every man for himself. Or woman,’ he added, before Rachel could say it.
Margot didn’t answer at first. Ruth came forward and took hold of her hand, giving Frank a smug proprietorial look, as if to say, you’ve lost her now; she’s mine. We’re sisters together, look at our hideous clothes and our tied-back hair and our unplucked eyebrows. We don’t need to look attractive to men because we don’t need men.
‘Frank,’ said Margot, ‘I know what you’re saying, I know how sorry you are. But I really need much more time.’
‘All right,’ Frank agreed. ‘I’m prepared to be generous. How much do you want? Two weeks, a month? A year, maybe? How about a decade?’
Then they finally looked at each other and they both knew that it was over.
Frank said, ‘I’ll have my horologist get in touch with your horologist, OK?’
**
He and Mo ended up on the veranda, by the light of a guttering torch. ‘Strange times, you know, Frank,’ said Mo. ‘One day you think you know exactly what the world is all about; you think you got all of your parameters fixed. You got steady work, you live in a nice place, you got your family all around you. Then God comes along and says, “Excuse me, may I remind you that you’re stuck by your feet by an invisible force to a ball of unstable rock which is hurtling around in a total vacuum, and that you’re obliged to share this ball of unstable rock with millions of demented people, many of whom don’t use deodorant, and some of whom would like nothing better than to pocket all of your possessions, torture your pets and blow your head off. Not only that, everything that makes this situation bearable, like cheeseburgers and whiskey and reasonably priced cigars, is going to shorten your life, and in any case you’re going to die anyhow, half-blind, half-deaf, in wet pajamas, in Pasadena.”’
Frank swallowed beer and wiped his mouth with his hand. ‘I guess that’s one way of looking at it.’
December 30, 2015
Slightly less 'horror' and more 'thriller' than his usual stuff, though with supernatural elements. Masterton can write a spooky book! This one was a nice, slow burn on the spooky front.
September 18, 2019
Very scary and disturbing, prophetic book. Masterton got what would happen today years ago and wrote it in its chilling story. Awful.
http://citadelata.com/innocent-blood/
http://citadelata.com/innocent-blood/
August 27, 2017
Very entertaining read with many unique twists and turns.
July 21, 2019
scary as shit
December 22, 2011
In Innocent Blood, "terrorists" are setting off suicide bombs across Hollywood and causing widespread panic. The police and security services are getting nowhere in their search for the culprits and their attempts to stop the horrors. The main character, Frank, suffers a tragedy early in the story and becomes caught up in the terror campaign.
I wouldn't really label Innocent Blood as horror, it's more of a story with thriller and supernatural elements. I've been reading Graham Masterton books for a long time and it seems to me that this novel wasn't as graphic as some of his older ones. However, that may be because I've got used to his style I guess.
I found Innocent Blood to be an entertaining and easy read, which moved along at a good pace. One aspect that spoiled it a little was Frank's stupidity. As a succesful Hollywood scriptwriter, it would be natural to assume that he is an intelligent guy, but his thoughts and actions are so incredibly naive at times to the point of being annoying. This sign of lazy writing from Masterton suprised and disappointed me, as I hold him in very high regard.
I wouldn't really label Innocent Blood as horror, it's more of a story with thriller and supernatural elements. I've been reading Graham Masterton books for a long time and it seems to me that this novel wasn't as graphic as some of his older ones. However, that may be because I've got used to his style I guess.
I found Innocent Blood to be an entertaining and easy read, which moved along at a good pace. One aspect that spoiled it a little was Frank's stupidity. As a succesful Hollywood scriptwriter, it would be natural to assume that he is an intelligent guy, but his thoughts and actions are so incredibly naive at times to the point of being annoying. This sign of lazy writing from Masterton suprised and disappointed me, as I hold him in very high regard.
July 19, 2012
Another good read from this author - I do love his books.
Back Cover Blurb:
When a terrorist bomb devastates an exclusive junior school in Hollywood, killing the sons and daughters of many famous TV and movie actors and producers, all hell breaks loose. Among the many dead is Danny Bell, the son of successful comedy writer Frank Bell.
Responsibility for the blast is claimed by a group who say that they want to put the decadent Western media out of business for good. But when Frank meets up with another survivor of the blast, the strange and alluring Astrid, he begins to question if this was a terrorist attack at all. As more bombs go off, causing havoc at TV studios and theme parks, Frank enlists Astrid's help and that of a celebrated psychic detective and at last begins to piece together the tragic secret behind the terror campaign. Soon his eyes are opened to a world in which the dead are never gone for ever. But he also has to come face to face with real and absolute evil.....
Back Cover Blurb:
When a terrorist bomb devastates an exclusive junior school in Hollywood, killing the sons and daughters of many famous TV and movie actors and producers, all hell breaks loose. Among the many dead is Danny Bell, the son of successful comedy writer Frank Bell.
Responsibility for the blast is claimed by a group who say that they want to put the decadent Western media out of business for good. But when Frank meets up with another survivor of the blast, the strange and alluring Astrid, he begins to question if this was a terrorist attack at all. As more bombs go off, causing havoc at TV studios and theme parks, Frank enlists Astrid's help and that of a celebrated psychic detective and at last begins to piece together the tragic secret behind the terror campaign. Soon his eyes are opened to a world in which the dead are never gone for ever. But he also has to come face to face with real and absolute evil.....
November 1, 2021
moje pierwsze spotkanie z twórczością pana Mastertona uważam za udane. naprawde bardzo dobry thriller, pełen akcji oraz napięcia
March 22, 2013
Really good to read. Nothing especially deep nor mind-digging. Sometimes disturbing and suspicious. Great book to read in so-called meanwhile :)
I'd read G.Masterton's novels a years ago. It's really great to read again a new novels by G.M.
I'd read G.Masterton's novels a years ago. It's really great to read again a new novels by G.M.
November 13, 2017
3.5* Overall this was a good little mystery story. I actually quite liked the way the story flowed, it had a great story line. What killed itty for me was the ending, it felt rushed and unfinished. An extra 10-20 pages to finish it off would have been nice.
January 30, 2010
Not for the feint-hearted. Graphic both as far as casualties and sex is concerned.
June 10, 2013
loved this book it could not have been better not as gory as some of grahams books but it is still an amazing story
June 22, 2013
parts of this storyline seem a bit unlikely, but still a good read which I enjoyed
July 7, 2014
The book itself was quite good- believable characters, interesting plot, easy-to-read wordings. But the ending just sucked. ....sorry, it just did.
January 25, 2015
Not one of Masterton's Classic horror tale but still enjoyable
December 16, 2019
A big miss for me. Main character is just a pure garbage. Sorry, not sorry.
November 10, 2022
One of the most underrated yet perfect thrillers to have ever been written--the twists that are in store for the reader surpass even my already high expectations for Masterton's superb takes on the supernatural & suspenseful. The book begins with a terrorist bombing destroying the lives of numerous children & adults, a shattering of normalcy, a destruction of innocence & hope in nearly every regard. The story leads into an equally shattering revelation about the criminals behind this destruction who turn out to be victims themselves...people who've been destroyed many years before, without any need of a bomb.
The protagonist Frank Bell is an everyman-type character who a lot of people can relate to. He's not perfect but he's trying to do the right thing & he's plodding along in what's revealed to be a marriage on life support. He makes a pivotal mistake right after the bombing, which takes place at his little son's school & his wife refuses to forgive him for something that quite frankly, a lot of women would have an almost impossible time forgiving. It's not that he's ethically 'wrong' in his decision making--quite the opposite. His choices show what a good-hearted man he genuinely is. But it was stupid. It was devastating. And it cost him & his wife the life of their child. From then on, Frank drifts in a fog, counting the days & the explosions surrounding him in Los Angeles. The terrorist group who have invaded the scene, Dar Tariki Tariqat, is determined to win their war at all costs & they don't give a damn about the people they endlessly kill to do it. Ironically, a tempestuous passion enters his life at the same time, leading Frank to believe that while there's an end, there could also be a beginning. The person he's falling in love (and lust) with, Astrid, is a beautiful young woman who claims to have lost someone in the school bombing & promptly falls into his arms for comfort. But her life is a mystery. Her identity is a secret. And her presence gets increasingly strange, her motivations for being in his bed & his life totally unclear. Could she be connected to something dangerous & unknown? That's the main question I asked myself. However, I was *not* expecting the answer.
What you think is one thing is entirely another. That, without spoiling anything, is the BASIS of this book & an ongoing theme in Graham Masterton's writing. Nothing is ever as it seems with his stories & his characters. Even when you think you've figured it all out & are confident about the heroes & the villains, Masterton pulls a fast one & yanks the literary rug from under your feet. What this book is about is PAIN. Intense, agonizing, excruciating, insanity-inducing human pain & how far it can go in eating away at a society. What seems to be horror is a powerful tale on the limits of the human mind & spirit & its determination for both good & evil. It's a morality tale wrapped in a horror package & it's splendidly written. This is densely layered story structure, no piece of dialogue or detail of backstory is a throwaway. It all intersects! I can't recommend this book enough. I swept through it, my eyes glued to every little detail & nuance, trying to figure out the 'mystery' of Astrid, Frank & his late but still very present son, Dar Tariki Tariqat, and the revelation of who is REALLY at the top of this evil, homicidal mess. It is a stunning but clever conclusion. Masterton is truly a master at his craft.
The protagonist Frank Bell is an everyman-type character who a lot of people can relate to. He's not perfect but he's trying to do the right thing & he's plodding along in what's revealed to be a marriage on life support. He makes a pivotal mistake right after the bombing, which takes place at his little son's school & his wife refuses to forgive him for something that quite frankly, a lot of women would have an almost impossible time forgiving. It's not that he's ethically 'wrong' in his decision making--quite the opposite. His choices show what a good-hearted man he genuinely is. But it was stupid. It was devastating. And it cost him & his wife the life of their child. From then on, Frank drifts in a fog, counting the days & the explosions surrounding him in Los Angeles. The terrorist group who have invaded the scene, Dar Tariki Tariqat, is determined to win their war at all costs & they don't give a damn about the people they endlessly kill to do it. Ironically, a tempestuous passion enters his life at the same time, leading Frank to believe that while there's an end, there could also be a beginning. The person he's falling in love (and lust) with, Astrid, is a beautiful young woman who claims to have lost someone in the school bombing & promptly falls into his arms for comfort. But her life is a mystery. Her identity is a secret. And her presence gets increasingly strange, her motivations for being in his bed & his life totally unclear. Could she be connected to something dangerous & unknown? That's the main question I asked myself. However, I was *not* expecting the answer.
What you think is one thing is entirely another. That, without spoiling anything, is the BASIS of this book & an ongoing theme in Graham Masterton's writing. Nothing is ever as it seems with his stories & his characters. Even when you think you've figured it all out & are confident about the heroes & the villains, Masterton pulls a fast one & yanks the literary rug from under your feet. What this book is about is PAIN. Intense, agonizing, excruciating, insanity-inducing human pain & how far it can go in eating away at a society. What seems to be horror is a powerful tale on the limits of the human mind & spirit & its determination for both good & evil. It's a morality tale wrapped in a horror package & it's splendidly written. This is densely layered story structure, no piece of dialogue or detail of backstory is a throwaway. It all intersects! I can't recommend this book enough. I swept through it, my eyes glued to every little detail & nuance, trying to figure out the 'mystery' of Astrid, Frank & his late but still very present son, Dar Tariki Tariqat, and the revelation of who is REALLY at the top of this evil, homicidal mess. It is a stunning but clever conclusion. Masterton is truly a master at his craft.
June 14, 2017
Masterton is truly at home when writing horror yarns about paranormal investigators and mysterious, yet sexy women who seem to be hiding secrets. Innocent Blood is no exception, however the usual elements are well wrapped up in a story of one man's grief after a terrorist attack in Hollywood. It's a brave story, clearly rooted in the events of 7/11 and pulls no punches (as Masterton readers would expect). The flaw is that the secret that the story tries to hide is rather obvious, although that said, you'll still be eager to see how it plays out, keeping you hanging until almost the very last page. It's an action packed novel, with plenty of naughtiness and some gore to keep the horror fans happy too. The supernatural elements are not the singular focus in Innocent Blood, which makes a change in direction for Masterton, but a pleasant one none-the-less. Easy to read, far too predictable, yet a real page turner.
January 13, 2024
Frank Bell's world is turned upside down when his eight year old son is killed in a terrorist bombing of the private school he attends. Frank was there when the bomb went off and immediately after the explosion he encountered a young woman and they form a bond. During the investigation he meets a psychic engaged by the police and they also form a bond. These two people change Frank's life.
But things are not what they seem as the terrorists begin a campaign against the entertainment industry and Frank is targeted. He also encounters a visitation from his dead son, Danny, but that is not what it seems either. Nothing is what is seems until the truth is exposed at the end.
I enjoyed this though I could tell that Frank was been led around by the sex on offer and the hurt and pain he was experiencing. There are seances, marriage break-ups, fear, sleeplessness and strange disappearances. Over all this there is a spookiness, but one expects this from the author.
But things are not what they seem as the terrorists begin a campaign against the entertainment industry and Frank is targeted. He also encounters a visitation from his dead son, Danny, but that is not what it seems either. Nothing is what is seems until the truth is exposed at the end.
I enjoyed this though I could tell that Frank was been led around by the sex on offer and the hurt and pain he was experiencing. There are seances, marriage break-ups, fear, sleeplessness and strange disappearances. Over all this there is a spookiness, but one expects this from the author.
January 14, 2022
Książek Grahama Mastertona przeczytałem kilka jako nastolatek. Była to wtedy dla mnie niezła frajda. Z ciekawością sięgnąłem więc po tę pozycję, która od jakiegoś czasu czekała na półce. Akcja jest wartka, fabuła rozwija się dość ciekawie, jednak bardzo szybko można sobie wykombinować zakończenie... a przynajmniej najbardziej intrygująca jego część. Książka nas raczej nie przestraszy, nie zaskoczy nas też innymi aspektami. Dobra pozycja na wakacje ;)
November 1, 2022
Przysięgam, że dawno nie czytałam czegoś tak bzdurnego. Zaczęło się naprawdę mocno, a potem było rozlazłe. Cały wątek z Astrid irytował mnie okrutnie. Libido głównego bohatera to dla mnie zagadka. Umarł jedyny syn? Nieważne, czas na łóżkowe perypetie. Moi przyjaciele zginęli na moich oczach? Co tam, dam radę! A jak nie, to chociaż będę myślał o dziewczynie. Aaaa...
O tym, że można uprawiać seks z duchem i nie zauważyć, nawet nie wspomnę.
O tym, że można uprawiać seks z duchem i nie zauważyć, nawet nie wspomnę.
January 5, 2025
3.5 star rating
January 9, 2026
Great wee book, liked the subject, saw the twist but didn't spoil the book 👍👌🥰
September 4, 2017
It was the first book I have ever read about the topic of terrorism - maybe because of that I like it a lot because the plot wasn't sophisticated.
March 30, 2017
Very competently written, no awkwardness, short and peppy scenes that supported and propelled the plot. Characters paper-thin, but no less so than Agatha Christie's.
I knew who Astrid was by Chapter 1.. You can either take it as the author being very fair to the reader and providing all necessary clues, or that they were too obvious...
I knew who Astrid was by Chapter 1.. You can either take it as the author being very fair to the reader and providing all necessary clues, or that they were too obvious...
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