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3242780,434 (3.41)10
"Marshall recalls Stephen King's ability to set a story in the world of the commonplace, then suddenly jolt it into a more hellish realm." --New York Times   Bad things have always happened in Black Ridge, Washington--and Michael Marshall, the acclaimed, bestselling, Phillip K. Dick Award-winning author ofThe Intruders ("Scary brilliance" --Baltimore Sun) and Straw Men ("Brilliantly written and scary as hell" --Stephen King), lets readers experience all the exceptional nastiness. Marshall's Bad Things is an electrifying combination of psychological suspense, mystery, horror, and paranormal activity that no fan of ingenious, intelligent thrillers will want to miss.… (más)
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Mostrando 1-5 de 27 (siguiente | mostrar todos)
This book was ok but nothing spectacular. I had never heard of this author before this book was mentioned in the last issue of Cemetery Dance magazine, and thought I'd give it a chance. I had high hopes but through the first 100 and something pages I felt it dragged a bit and wished it would just get on with it. It did have some genuinely creepy moments but it also had a few instances that just plain didn't make a lot of sense. ( )
  IreneCole | Jul 27, 2022 |
The main character is quite likeable John Henderson who has split up with his Wife after the death of his son. Moved away and now works in a Pizza restaurant
He has tried to move on, he receives strange messages concerning his son.
He goes back to his old town where strange things happen, people end up dead.
I was really getting into this book then it got all paranormal and I kind of lost interest.
Not my cup of tea. ( )
  Daftboy1 | Nov 9, 2018 |
Bad things have happened to John Henderson, besides being given the most generic name imaginable. 3 years ago his child died before eyes, inexplicably falling over dead with a look of absolute horror on his face. Then he tried to drink away his despair, which led to his eventual divorce. Now, just as he is starting to get his life back together (kind of) a mysterious stranger leaves him an anonymous email, saying they know what really happened to his son. When he returns to the place where his life fell apart to speak to this stranger, he finds things were far darker, and much stranger, than he could have imagined.

This isn't the first book I've read by Michael Marshall, but it's the first book I've read under this pseudonym. I am a huge fan of his science fiction work (under Michael Marshall Smith) and consider Spares on of my all time favorites, even if I haven't read it in nearly a decade and probably didn't have the reading/life experience to make that judgement, assuming we ever do when we make such claims. Nevertheless, even though this is worlds apart from his science fiction, so to speak, it is definitely stylistically familiar. The main character is kind of a badass, while still feeling vulnerable and believable, and things get a bit crazy towards the end, something that is true for all 3 of his sci-fi novel that I've read.

I'll be the first to admit, I tend to judge mystery/suspense novels a little unfairly. They aren't really my thing, yet I always tend to read 3 or 4 of them each year and rarely give them more than 3 stars. I'd like to say Bad Things was different, but alas, despite the fact that it's perfectly enjoyable and there isn't much wrong with it at all, it's still just a suspense novel. Like I said, it's totally unfair. On the bright side, if you like this sort of thing and you are still reading this, then by all means, give it a try! I'm still giving it 3 stars though. ( )
  Ape | Sep 2, 2016 |
We here at Sheelagh na Gig like our thrillers dark and brooding and twisty, full of foreboding, dense with danger,tingling with trepidation, minging with menace, but most of all, we like them well written. That’s why this week’s review commends to your attention Bad Things, by Michael Marshall, which has an opening that will break your heart, a story that will drag you to the edge of your seat, and a terrifyingly suspenseful climax that will dump you on the floor.

Bad Things opens with the sudden, inexplicable death of a young boy on a jetty, devastating the lives of his parents and destroying their marriage. Three years later the father, John Henderson, is working in a pizza joint, reluctantly protecting his boss’ daughter from the dangerous blunderings of her drug dealing boyfriend, until he receives a mysterious e-mail from someone who claims to know how his son died. Henderson is drawn him back to the tangled forests of Washington State where a wealthy family and an entire town conspire to keep some horrible secrets.

Grappling with old memories and fighting old ghosts, haunted by his devastating loss, John becomes entangled in a sinister web of secrets and old power that may well provide answers to the mystery of his son’s death that he might be better off never knowing. The arrival of his boss’ daughter and boyfriend with a pair of hitmen in close pursuit, adds a complication that he could really do without. Death and darkness close about our hero and the people he wants to protect, and the scene is set for a final confrontation on the same jetty where he lost his son

Marshall’s crisp, fluent style conveys setting, character and emotion with precision and clarity while the murky, mysterious plot is slowly, tantalisingly unravelled, building a sense of disquiet and unease into an almost unbearable suspense. Bad Things provides more than a few chills, making it perfect reading for the Summer holidays. ( )
  Nigel_Quinlan | Oct 21, 2015 |
Spannend verhaal wel, maar helemaal begrepen heb ik het niet. Er waren veel personages die ik niet allemaal uit mekaar kon houden. Irritant was de titel 'verdwenen'. Het jongetje is nl niet verdwenen zoals op de achterkant wordt vermeld, maar hij is gewoon overleden. De titel,slaat dus nergens op. De oorspronkelijke titel Bad Things is veel beter. ( )
  Cromboek | Feb 25, 2015 |
Mostrando 1-5 de 27 (siguiente | mostrar todos)
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For Stephen Jones
Who knows the darkest parts of the woods — and the path from there to the pub.
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It is a beautiful afternoon in late summer, and there is a man standing on the deck of a house in the woods a fifteen minute drive from Roslyn, a nice, small town in Washington State.
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That night she checked the bolt thirty-two times when she went to bed, though she knew it was too late. Nobody was already inside the gates, and that's what panic actually was, she realized. It was the noise of the world whispering in your ear, when your life was ruled by something that wasn't there.
It was the sound of nobody talking, all the time.
I know how much difference a night's sleep can make, that what seems ungovernable and world-breaking at one A.M. can be made to feel like someone else's dream if you put seven hours of unconsciousness between it and you. Tomorrow's not just another day, another person lives it—and every time you go to sleep, you say good-bye.
There was an afternoon, three years ago, when my son died in front of my eyes, when I'd dived into the water and then stood exactly where I was now, holding something in my arms for which I had made a sandwich four hours before: when I stood knowing that the person for whom I'd slapped cold cuts and cheese between bread, and then sliced the result into the preferred triangular form, had gone away and was no longer there; and that the wet, heavy thing that remained was nothing but a lie.
What is the difference between those two states? Nobody has a clue. The local doctors and the coroner certainly didn't. All they could tell me was that Scott had been dead before he hit the water, and they had no idea how or why.
I'm sorry, Mr. Henderson. But he just died.
This difference is why our species makes sacrifices, performs rituals, repeats forms of words to ourselves in the dark watches of the night. Gods are merely foils in this process, and audience for the supplications of metaphor in the face of the intractable monolith of reality. We need someone to listen to these prayers, because without a listener, they cannot come true, and therefore there must be gods, and they must be kind, else they would never grant our wishes—in which case why would we pray to them in the first place?
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"Marshall recalls Stephen King's ability to set a story in the world of the commonplace, then suddenly jolt it into a more hellish realm." --New York Times   Bad things have always happened in Black Ridge, Washington--and Michael Marshall, the acclaimed, bestselling, Phillip K. Dick Award-winning author ofThe Intruders ("Scary brilliance" --Baltimore Sun) and Straw Men ("Brilliantly written and scary as hell" --Stephen King), lets readers experience all the exceptional nastiness. Marshall's Bad Things is an electrifying combination of psychological suspense, mystery, horror, and paranormal activity that no fan of ingenious, intelligent thrillers will want to miss.

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