Picture Mommy Dead
Lancer, New York, 1966
(price: 50c; 158 pages)
The blurb on the back:
Did she or didn't she?
No doctor could trace the cause of Susan's nightmares, the strange and terrifying visitations that made her scream in the dark, soft, Southern nights.
They knew the facts. Her mother had died a hideous death by burning. Her step-mother lived - and burned for the deformed lover whose cruelty held her its helpless prisoner. Her father lusted for his adulterous wife and the fortune that was Susan's.
They said she was insane. There were whispers that Susan was responsible.
Was she or wasn't she? Did she or didn't she have anything to do with the horrible events that took place at the Flagmore mansion?
Not even Susan herself knew.
The chilling sound was not alone the shrill of wind gushing through the moonbathed hedges and cypress trees that lined the path leading to main entrance of Flagmore House. It was also the cry of human torment and the crackle of burning in the north wing.
Would-be Southern Gothic, actually a melodramatic pot-boiler. The 1960s weren't a good decade for horror, and this wasn't one of the better films. Unsurprisingly, it's not exactly a ground-breaking novel either, though it was at least written by the screen-writer.
ARTISTIC MERIT: 1/5
ENTERTAINMENT VALUE: 2/5
HIPNESS QUOTIENT: 3/5