Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke

by Eric LaRocca

Genres: Horror

Synopsis

Three dark and disturbing horror stories from an astonishing new voice, including the viral-sensation tale of obsession, Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke. For fans of Kathe Koja, Clive Barker and Stephen Graham Jones. Winner of the Splatterpunk Award for Best Novella.

A whirlpool of darkness churns at the heart of a macabre ballet between two lonely young women in an internet chat room in the early 2000s—a darkness that threatens to forever transform them once they finally succumb to their most horrific desires. 

A couple isolate themselves on a remote island in an attempt to recover from their teenage son’s death, when a mysterious young man knocks on their door during a storm…

And a man confronts his neighbour when he discovers a strange object in his back yard, only to be drawn into an ever-more dangerous game.

Three devastating, beautifully written horror stories from one of the genre’s most cutting-edge voices.

What have you done today to deserve your eyes?

 

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Release date: September 6, 2022

Publisher: Titan Books

Print pages: 220

Sample

 

POST WRITTEN BY AGNES PETRELLA ON ONLINE QUEER COMMUNITY BOARD

[The following post was recovered from QueerList.org—a website where members, usually openly identifying members of the LGBTQ+ community, can converse and solicit. The author wishes to express their heartfelt gratitude to the website’s chief administrator, Sig Thornton, for recovering the post from his well-organized archives and for being so remarkably generous throughout the research process.]

Antique Apple Peeler with Vibrant History for Sale

Date: Friday, May 26, 2000 at 3:47 p.m. EST

User: agnes_in_wonderland_76

Asking Price: $250 (will settle for $220)

I was going to begin this with some absurd comment about the irony of posting about an apple peeler in a queer discussion forum when most of us are probably upset by the mere mention of the word “fruit.”

I decided to begin with a story instead.

Every family has a myth for the young to inherit—an undocumented fable passed between mouths, a grave illness to be contracted—as if the very words were a blight to infect the youth with and let them know they’re now welcome to the fold.

After all, what exactly is a family, if not a brotherhood and sisterhood afflicted with the same terminal disease?

When I was very young, my grandmother told me a story about how her mother—an immigrant from Naples—had desperately longed for a proper apple peeler in order to make a traditional apple pie.

The man she had married, though generous enough to gift her five children to carry in her belly over the course of six years, was resolute in his decision—he would not give her the money for the apple peeler no matter how much she begged.

So, my great-grandmother devised a plan to make her husband understand just how urgently she needed a peeler. Not only would her plan showcase her need, but it would stress a measure of safety as well.

The following day, my great-grandmother packed her husband’s lunch pail and kissed him “goodbye” as he set off for work. She waited, spent the morning tailoring a suit for one of her neighbors. Finally, the news she had been waiting for arrived. One of the Carpino boys that lived next door showed up on her doorstep and explained how her husband had been taken to the local doctor.

“What for?” she had asked, her hands hiding the smile beginning to thaw across her face.

“Something he ate,” the Carpino boy told her. “He bit into an apple with a sewing needle stuck inside.”

A week later and my great-grandmother was at the local department store picking out an apple peeler, chaperoned by her dear husband with his jaw bandaged shut.

As you can already tell by the pictures attached to this thread [images omitted], this antique apple peeler has endured for over a century and provided sustenance for four generations of family members.

I’ve gone through various documents my grandmother had left me and consequently discovered a letter my great-grandmother had sent to her sister (who was living in Turin, Italy at the time) and she details going to the department store with her husband to pick out an apple peeler. The letter is dated August 5th, 1897. So, that means, in no uncertain terms, the apple peeler was manufactured in 1897. Possibly even earlier—1896. I can happily scan a copy of the letter and include it with the item for the sake of verifying the appliance’s authenticity. I’m also more than happy to send along a copy of the letter for a historian to verify prior to purchase.

You might be interested to know not only was the apple peeler’s purchase of the sordid variety, but the appliance furnished the hands of one of the state of Connecticut’s beloved composers—Charles Ives. My grandmother, frequently guilty of repeating the same story at a family gathering on separate occasions, would often regale those who were patient enough to listen more than once with the story of how the apple peeler was once used by Charles Ives, a family friend, at a picnic in 1948—the very year after he had won the Pulitzer Prize.

Unfortunately, there’s no way to authenticate this claim that the apple peeler was once used by Mr. Ives. On two separate occasions, I have scoured my parents’ basement in search of photographs documenting the picnic and found no evidence of Mr. Ives at a family picnic in the late 1940s. In an effort to be as transparent with you as possible, my grandmother was prone to manufacturing stories that she imagined might titillate her guests. She once told a family friend that Marcello Mastroianni (you might remember him from La Dolce Vita) was a distant family relation on her mother’s side. Her stories became more fanciful and varied in her old age; however, she clung to the story of Charles Ives until the night the hospice nurses arrived.

Make of that what you will.

If you’re in the market for a conversation starter, then look no further. I can’t tell you the amount of times house guests have marveled at this particular antique appliance pinned to my kitchen wall. On more than three separate occasions I’ve had offers from guests to purchase the peeler; however, at the time, I couldn’t bear to part with it.

If you’re a serious collector with a fervent taste for traditional Americana—no pun intended—then this is the appliance for you. Be mindful that this appliance is still in proper working order. Though, a skilled owner will be aware not to overuse the tool as it requires the tenderness only a true collector possesses. It’s my sincere hope that this apple peeler will go to a considerate and thoughtful owner, eager to add a touch of history to their beautiful home, or perhaps to add another excellent addition to their growing collection.

Feel free to email me: agnes_in_wonderland_76@[omitted]. com with any further questions. I’m delighted to help in any way I can. Please do not contact me with unsolicited services or offers.

Please be advised, once purchased I will not accept returns or issue refunds.