Many horror writers try to be crafty with their scares. The whole point is to put the fear of God into your readers and  make them pull the covers over their heads at night. Many consider the knock-you-over-the-head method to be barbaric and lack the finesse of the craft.

Edward Lee is not one of those people. When I first read his book City Infernal about a young girl that travels to hell to save her twin sister, I was completely blown away. Lee is an honest writer. What you read is what you get. Lee is to horror writing what Tromaville is to horror movies. When you turn that first page, you're going to be hit with intense violence, sex and gore.

People are going to have their faces ripped off and three breasted nymphettes are going to going on a sex romp that will likely leave a body count. His works harken to the days of b-movie horror where they enticed readers with bikini babes fighting off werewolves. Given his penchant for sex and violence, I am surprised none of his works have translated into film because they definitely fit the late night drive-in motif.

Don't get me wrong, his books aren't all about such things. He is a master of his craft and his stories are amazingly engaging and well thought out, they just don't pull any punches. While most writers would shy away from the easy scare in favor of the more cerebral, Lee just lays it out there.