Synopsis:
When leg-breaker Hutch Holtz rolls up to a rundown apartment complex in Portland, Oregon, to collect overdue drug money, a severed hand is the last thing he expects to find stashed in the client’s refrigerator. Hutch quickly realizes that the hand induces uncontrollable madness: Anyone in its proximity is overcome with a boundless compulsion for violence. Within hours, catastrophic forces are set into motion: Dark-op government agents who have been desperately hunting for the hand are on Hutch’s tail, more of the city’s residents fall under its brutal influence, and suddenly all of Portland stands at the precipice of disaster. . . .
But it’s all the same for Katherine Moriarty, a singer whose sudden fame and precipitous downfall were followed by the mysterious death of her estranged husband—suicide, allegedly. Her trauma has made her agoraphobic, shackled within the confines of her apartment. Her son, Nick, has moved home to care for her, quietly making his living working for Hutch’s boss.
When Hutch calls Nick in distress, looking for someone else to take the hand, Katherine and Nick are plunged into a global struggle that will decimate the walls of the carefully arranged life they’ve built. Mother and son must evade both crazed, bloodthirsty masses and deceitful government agents while exorcising family secrets that have risen from the dead—secrets, they soon discover, that might hold the very key to humanity’s survival.
Review:
Frenetic, messy and unrelenting in its barrage of violence and despair, “Fever House,” by Keith Rosson is a brilliant fusion of supernatural noir and punk rock bizarro. A novel that reads like a grainy heist film spliced with a paranormal thriller, “Fever House,” is a glorious, and intricately crafted mess of a book, packed with jaw-dropping revelations, raw grit, and enough gore to turn the stomach of the most gangsta of horror readers. Rosson keeps the pedal to the metal until the engine explodes, and continues to head (full throttle) toward complete carnage, us, the passenger, unable to look away from the oncoming collision. This one’s been out for over a year, yet I have (as I have an awful habit of doing), deprived myself of it for all these months… so, grab my bleeding, severed hand, and let me try and convince you as to why you should ensure you don’t make the same mistake.
Tim Reed and Hutch Holtz have been inseparable since they were kids. Comrades… amigos… partners in crime… literally. Debt-collectors for the infamous Peach Serrano, the duo head to a dilapidated apartment, armed and ready to collect what their boss is owed. What they leave with instead is “The Remnant.” A dismembered hand, that makes those in its vicinity want to do terrible things. The pair are, to put it plainly, in deep shit. If this hand were to get into the wrong hands, the consequences could be catastrophic. With the government’s more “covert,” agencies hot on the remnant’s tail, closing in, and ready to kill to retrieve this mitt of mass destruction, it seems Tim, Hutch, and indeed the entirety of Portland are out of luck.
Not a novel that tiptoes around its premise, “Fever House,” is like an electric guitar riff, each chapter a deafening, minor chord that adds to the building dissonance. Amidst this bloody racket however is a real sense of consideration and purpose. Occult warfare and government conspiracy are not particularly easy topics to tackle -Rosson does it whilst dissecting multiple themes, fleshing out a whole ensemble of complex characters, and constructing what is undeniably a mind-boggling, head-banging triumph of a novel. From its prose to its dialogue, “Fever House,” is full of tension, dread and dark comedy. With plenty of brutally visceral action scenes and gore (but not a gratuitous amount) remedied by some TLC in between- Rosson’s writing makes us laugh, frown and squirm, sometimes all at the same time.
A horror novel, and a kick-ass one at that, but also a meditation on power (its lure and the consequences of it,) in “Fever House,” Rosson deftly critiques the hubris of those who seek to control forces beyond their understanding, whether it’s a crime boss or a shadowy government agency. Yes, most interestingly an allegory about state corruption, the novel explores the violent and ugly outcomes of unchecked power, and examines the morally-decayed underbelly of power hungry organisations. Speaking of which… it’s the US government’s black ops unit, ARC, that’s the sinister conductor in this symphony of carnage. They will do whatever it takes to acquire the remnant in their quest for ultimate control, yet as Rosson’s narrative barrels forward, it becomes increasingly clear that despite the blood shed and lives lost, the operation is futile… some things are simply not to be meddled with.
The grunge, grime and violence is punctuated by brief but affecting chapters that follow Katherine and her son Nick. “The Blank Letters,” (and thus their front-woman Katherine) who had two double platinum albums before a messy break up, are bizarrely wrapped up in the ill-intentioned operations of “ARC.” Furthermore, her son Nick, who found himself working with Peach Serrano is also dragged into this mess. Yes, the pair find themselves stuck in a hellscape, but the relationship between them allows moments of heartbreak, tenderness and nostalgia- which I would argue are crucial to at least slightly offset the nastiness that they are sandwiched between.
To conclude, “Fever House,” is the gore-drenched tour de force that I hoped it might be, a banger that hits all of the right notes for fans of horror, heavy metal, and hands (of the all-powerful relic variety). Perfect for lovers of Dean Koontz’s “Night Chills,” “Fever House,” is a deft exploration of the moral complexities and consequences that emerge when humanity collides with forces beyond its control. In the end, “Fever House,” demonstrates that when it comes to horror, sometimes it’s best to keep your hands to yourself.
Fanfiaddict love this book! Read Anna’s and Anthony’s reviews.
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