This novella has everything – including an incredible cover by Jeanne D’Angelo. The story is sharply focused, its brilliant character work underscoring the glorious pulpy erotic horror that forms the bulk of the narrative. This kind of physical horror can often come across a little overcooked, but Martin – who I’ll definitely be reading more of after this – balances every layer perfectly. This is one of those pieces of writing that demands revisiting, with the promise of a new crevice or curve to be appreciated with every encounter. It’s fun and weird, but it’s all so real too, with a dark rhythm that pulses between tragedy and hope, a fever dream’s descent into primordial horror. Or maybe not horror so much as hunger?