There's a place, out in North Wales, where things have happened. Bad things, strange things. Dark things. At the heart of it there's a mountain, and they call it Mynydd Du: Black Mountain.
A long time ago, I knew a guy called Rob Markland. He was a writer. He was, I suppose, a friend. Last year, I met him again; he was a patient in a psychiatric ward.
The doctors wanted me to help them find out what had happened. I found a file of Rob's notes. It was about Mynydd Du and what surrounded it. I read it, and I found out about Maes Carnedd and Capel Teg, Britt Nordenstam and Russell Ware. And much, much more.
And if I was really unlucky, I'd find out what drove Rob Markland insane.
Now it's time to tell the tale. So turn the page. The dancers in the pines are waiting for you... on Black Mountain.
Simon Bestwick was born in Wolverhampton in 1974. He has worked in various jobs, from fast food operative through drama teacher to training administrator. His short fiction has appeared in numerous magazines and anthologies, including Nasty Piece of Work, All Hallows, Darkness Rising, Extremes 5, and Beneath the Ground. He lives in Swinton, Lancashire, and when not writing can be found indulging his interests: walking, films, literature, rock, folk, and jazz music, good food, and the occasional pint.
Reread December 2025. Original review (May 2023): I was attracted to the idea of this book – a horror novel disguised as a non-fiction book about the many strange incidents surrounding a cursed and/or haunted mountain – but even so, I was surprised by how much I loved it. I had the absolute time of my life reading this: it’s simply so enjoyable, so moreish. When I had it in my hands, I couldn’t stop reading, and when I was away from it, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Each section of the book focuses on a different inexplicable event on or around Mynydd Du, literally Black Mountain, through history (the chapters were originally released as ‘episodes’ in individual ebooks). There’s the failure of an ‘executive community’ made up of Futuro-style pod houses; the strange disappearance of a popular uni student; the ‘beast’ that terrorised a mining community – even the tale of a Roman general whose troops meet with a seemingly unbeatable foe. There are multiple layers of storytelling here: journalist Rob Markland sifts through the papers of doomed writer Russell Ware, and later we also get a certain Simon Bestwick jumping into the narrative. And in between the work of these characters, there are various interview transcripts, articles, diary entries, letters, forum posts, etc.
Many books of this type resort to a more conventional approach when it’s time to tie all the threads together, but in Black Mountain the montage-style narrative is sustained to the end. This – along with the thoughtfully written recurrence of various characters – makes the story feel not like a series of discrete segments, more like a rich and cleverly woven tapestry. Had I not already known, I would never have guessed it was originally published episodically. The fact that it seems so complete also really helps its effectiveness as horror. I’ve read/watched so much horror that I rarely find it unnerving anymore, but this gets genuinely creepy at times; after certain scenes, I kept thinking I could see something lurking in the shadows... It’s the book equivalent of a found-footage film in which you can’t help but be persuaded that a real threat lies beneath even the most unlikely of sequences.
Points of comparison for me are John Langan’s The Fisherman, the podcast The Magnus Archives, the film The Empty Man,the Six Stories series and Eliza Clark’s forthcoming Penance. If you like found-footage horror, mixed-media narratives and stories about cursed places, this book is for you. (Don’t be put off by the cover, I know it’s not the best, that’s so often the way with genre fiction published by small presses.) MANY more horror fans should know about Black Mountain.
An Amazon reviewer said this was like reading a Welsh version of Noroi, and that sold me. This was a fun, engrossing read. I deeply wish it could get the Luminae treatment with clippings and photos; this could be a hefty, beautiful, and dark coffee table book for lovers of folk horror. As it is, it’s worth the read.
Take a chance on this one. Share it with your friends. And if you start to hear singing…don’t blame me.
Black Mountain by Simon Bestwick is an excellent epistolary novel constructed of letters, emails,diary entries spiced with a smattering of found footage digital recordings. An isolated region of North Wales becomes a focus of dread as the author deftly creates tales of the of the unwise and unwary and how they become ensnared by a malevolent force which has dominated the area for centuries. Bestwick ably uses gory set-pieces but capably orchestrates them with build ups of increasing tension and horrors all too human mixed with those of the supernatural variety. The vivid climax, lingers in the mind and the author wisely leaves several mysteries unresolved.