This book was absolutely Phenomenal! Alyssa has made her living as a "Scream Queen" in low-budget B-Rated Horror Flicks on the big screen! She even had a HUGE following of fans that adored her...but this has all vanished just as quickly as it came and now Alyssa is out for blood! This time for REAL and she'll do anything to get back at anyone that's even remotely crossed her!

Brandon Ford's writing style is magical! It's very easy to read - yet takes you far into the depths of all that the characters are feeling. There were times that I felt I was right there in the very room where all of the action was happening! A page-turner in every sense of the word! (As a matter of fact, I was turning pages until 4 a.m.) No lie!

If you love thrillers, horror movies and gore galore, this is the book and the author for you! I can't wait to pick up Crystal Bay (even though it was written first)! Brandon is a Philadelphia local and a B-Horror movie lover himself! This book is sort of his tribute or "love letter" to his favorite scream queens in the business! ( )

Scream queen.

A moniker which is both evocative and regal. Like royalty in distress. Marie Antoinette facing the guillotine, pale as French Vanilla.

But unless you’re a card-carrying member of horror geekdom, you may not be familiar with the true meaning of the phrase. A “scream queen” is a sexy young actress who’s starred in a number of horror films. A shrieking starlet and professional damsel-in-distress, recycled for her acting, looks and screaming ability. She oozes more sex appeal than a siren, popping her top more often than an alcoholic cracks a cold one.

And she looks really good drenched in blood.

Brandon Ford’s latest horror novel Splattered Beauty is an ode to these vixens of horror cinema. A fanboy love letter that re-casts these professional victims in the role of the femme fatale. To pervert Mel Brooks’ line, it’s suddenly good to be the queen. No longer are her screams out of helpless terror, now they burst forth filled with murderous rage and anguish. The victim becomes the villain. It’s flipping the script, dumping a stereotype on its head.

Alyssa Peyton once had a promising acting career, the star of dozens of successful horror movies directed by her husband Peter. She had fame, money and respect. Fans loved her and showered her with attention. She was somebody. But drugs and alcohol—not to mention her messy divorce from Peter—have destroyed her career. Now she’s persona non grata in the business, known for being difficult and unreliable.

But Alyssa still believes that she has that spark; that she can act and be something special once again. That she’s got Talent. Capital ‘T’ talent. So she mounts a comeback, older, maybe wiser. Now she just needs an opportunity.

But Alyssa’s greeted with only porn roles and disinterest. So she escapes deeper into the drugs and alcohol, riding the bottle to destruction. If only someone would believe in her. If only someone would save her.

Someone does.

Alyssa quickly befriends a star-struck Taryn at a horror convention, basking in the affections of the younger woman. Taryn makes her feel better about herself. She makes her feel loved and beautiful again. And in return Alyssa offers Taryn a place to stay, away from her overbearing, highly-religious mother.

Then the perfect role comes along for Alyssa. Because she’s not the victim in this film. She’s the killer. In a movie called Splattered Beauty.

A movie she’d kill to be a part of.

Ford’s novel reads like the novelization of a B-movie. As if Splattered Beauty really existed down at the local multiplex. It’s a highly visual novel, like Ford is transcribing the horror movie that’s playing in his head. One can almost imagine the reels changing—minus the cigarette burns—after each chapter. Ford’s approach is brave and ambitious. B-movies aren’t considered high cinema, so mimicking one of these films in literature is fraught with peril. Like rollerblading on the edge of the Grand Canyon. These films can be campy, cheesy, unintentionally humorous, illogical, filled with stereotypes and downright dumb. Not the easiest source material to pull off an homage to.

But Ford pulls it off, convincing me that Splattered Beauty belongs in the B-movie pantheon. But which Splattered Beauty? The book or Alyssa’s film. Or are they one and the same? Is Ford’s book the screenplay of Alyssa’s film? It’s all horribly metafictional.

What the film Splattered Beauty does in the book is mark the point where events start to diverge from reality. Like in horror films where things start out normal, but then get suddenly weird. That’s when the horror kicks in. That’s when the nails start creeping down your spine and the chills take the color from your cheeks. You’re driving down a highway when your car breaks down. You seek help at a nearby farmhouse. Suddenly a maniac is chasing you with a chainsaw wanting to wear your skin like a summer dress. See, suddenly weird.

Once the story diverges and the horror kicks in, Ford plays fast and furious with the B-movie clichés: psychotic killer, incompetent but dogged police detective, people doing dumb things that get themselves iced. This divergence is more jarring to read than to watch. Horror films are immediate and visceral, one doesn’t have time to stop and analyze what’s going on. Unlike a novel, where you can sit and stare at a word for days. Ford’s greatest obstacle then is to keep the reader engaged after things get weird. And I mean really weird, like that feeling you get when that old prune you call an aunt wants to lay a kiss upside your head. Keeping readers engaged is easier with a knowledgeable audience of horror fans. They know what Ford is doing. It’s a tougher sell to a mainstream reader.

And this is Splattered Beauty’s biggest drawback. It’s like an inside joke between friends. You have to be in the know to appreciate it. You have to have seen one of these B-movie horror gems. With a bucket of popcorn and everything. Otherwise you sit there clueless, hoping no one notices, popcorn residue littering your lap. So what’s to keep an average reader from deciding that a novel that pays homage to bad horror movies isn’t really just a crappy book?

There are issues with Ford’s omniscient narration in the last half of the book. Too much is told instead of shown. Too much of the character’s thoughts are given away. A little mystery would be nice. Partly Ford’s a victim of his own success as he does an admirable job getting the reader into Alyssa’s head in the first half of the book. The psychology works. We understand her. So detailing her thoughts in the second half of Splattered Beauty feels redundant and unnecessary.

Last Word:
Brandon Ford makes a bold choice in writing Splattered Beauty, a book that reads like a novelization of a non-existent horror movie. Thankfully it’s a good flick. But this is midnight showing material only. Don’t expect Citizen Kane. Writing a novel that’s like a bad film is a difficult task, but Ford succeeds in encapsulating B-movieness. Splattered Beauty is highly visual and slightly addictive in parts. It’s a horror screenplay clearly waiting to happen. And the role of a lifetime for some lucky scream queen. ( )