When I was seventeen we moved into a house of note, in the sophisticated backwoods of a “better part” of Arkansas. The elegant wood walls held the light of windows from heaven. The skylights, as they were, bathed the living room with sufficient light to hide the darkness beneath the floor. Moving from that room into the kitchen, with its regal appointments and then, into the upstairs master bedroom and Jacuzzi-clad bathroom finished the illuminated journey. Yet, the way downward was the path of note. There was carpet and dark and damp. First, on the right, was the door to the furnace room, with a massive, devouring cavern of iron teeth, waiting for its daily dose of wooden sacrifices. Then, a smaller bedroom, bathroom and a final, darker corner sleeping area. It was here I slept the years of my college life, rather than a dormitory appointment. The demon of the house was a more familiar roommate, a more intimate associate to my pain. Paralyzed with terror my limbs froze during the night hours as the masked intruder approached my body and wrapped its cold, blackly shrouded hands around my neck. Time and time again I opened my eyes to see the night realm held in place as the black mass undulated towards me, carrying its undisclosed intentions. There was even a day the presence moved freely during the light hours, a daring feat for the ruler of the darkness. It did not desire companionship, or conversation, only to rip the flesh of my soul. And I obliged with the scarred offering of a self-inflicted injury to my body. Herein are my credentials for pages you will read.

Before award-winning director Dan Curtis became known for directing epic war movies, he darkened the small screen with the horror genre's most famous soap opera, Dark Shadows, and numerous subsequent made-for-TV horror movies. This second edition serves as a complete filmography, featuring each of Curtis's four-dozen productions and 100 photographs. With the addition of new chapters on Dark Shadows, the author further explores the groundbreaking daytime television serial. Fans and scholars alike will find an exhaustive account of Curtis's work, as well as a new foreword from My Music producer Jim Pierson and an afterword from Dr. Mabuse director Ansel Faraj.

This revised and updated edition of A History of Horrors traces the life and "spirit" of Hammer, from its fledgling days in the late 1940s through its successes of the 1950s and '60s to its decline and eventual liquidation in the late 1970s. With the exclusive participation of all of the personnel who were key to Hammer's success, Denis Meikle paints a vivid and fascinating picture of the rise and fall of a film empire, offering new and revealing insights into "the truth behind the legend." Much has been written about Hammer's films, but this is the only book to tell the story of the company itself from the perspective of those who ran it in its heyday and who helped to turn it into a universal byword for terror on the screen.

The story of a house that was built on the entrance to the gates of Hell.

The house next door to the Kennedys appears to be haunted by an all-pervasive evil, and the couple watches as a succession of owners becomes engulfed by the sinister force, until the Kennedys set out to destroy the house themselves.

How does the horror in film relate to the horror we experience in everyday life? This is one of the questions addressed in this examination of the genre of horror film. The author argues that horror films today have broken with the tradition of the genre to embrace far more violent imagery, images that are in keeping with the escalating violence in society. By examining the horror film, its history and its current trends, the author hopes to further our understanding of the meaning of the genre in today's culture and our fascination with violence.

"WrestleCrap: The Very Worst of Professional Wrestling" examines some of the ridiculously horrible characters and storylines that pro wrestling promoters have subjected their fans to over the past twenty years. Why would any sane person think that having two grown men fight over a turkey was actually a reasonable idea? Was George Ringo, the Wrestling Beatle, really the best gimmick that a major promotional organization could come up with? And who would charge fans to watch a wrestler named the Gobbeldy Gooker emerge from an egg? In an attempt to answer such questions and figure out just what the promoters were thinking, authors Randy Baer and R.D. Reynolds go beyond what wrestling fans saw on the screen and delve into the mindset of those in the production booth. In some instances, the motivations driving the spectacle prove even more laughable than what was actually seen in the ring. Covering such entertainment catastrophes as an evil one - eyed midget and a wrestler from the mystical land of Oz, not to mention the utterly comprehensible Turkey - on - a - Pole match (a gimmick which AWA fans might recall), "WrestleCrap" is hysterically merciless in its evaluation of such organizations as the WCW and the WWF. This retrospective look at the wrestling world's misguided attempts to attract viewers will leave wrestling fans and critics alike in stitches.

Sexual Outcasts presents a wide range of texts selected to illustrate the diversity of responses to the concealed body and to the secret or forbidden sexual practices of 1750-1850. Each volume follows the means by which prohibitions and taboos were produced and circulated. The reader can therefore explore the processes that disciplined the representation of the body and the constuction of sexual outcasts.This four-volume set presents a wide range of textual material: criminal reports; scientific and medical publications; newspaper items; sex manuals; guidebooks; speculative accounts, and case histories. The variety of sources permits a multiple perspective on the body, sexual drives, gendered psychologies and perverse behaviour across the century.