I think the biggest take away from this novel is the fact that Jon Hammond intentionally sabotaged the park.
Winter is coming, but who cares? Shit, the most interesting aspect of the novel, the weird seasons, is just pretty much forgotten about, because, as far as I know, winter still hasn’t come in close to twenty years. Maybe winter should find a fuckin’ Viagra.
Goosebumps+Dexter= I’m Not a Serial Killer
you can see where inspiration came from this, but it was less homage and more a “Hold my beer” moment, as Bram Stoker showcased he could do it better.
Welcome to Kageoween, the optimum fright fest of 2018 and something I would like to do once a year. To start things off, we have Frankenstein by Mary Shelly. This book is celebrating its bicentennial this year, so I couldn’t think of anything more appropriate to kick start the season of evil.