I love Louisiana as a setting and this book definitely added to that! Pay the Piper had me not wanting to put it down until I was done. Really brilliant.

George A. Romero is without a doubt the father of the modern zombie genre, with his Night of the Living Dead and it's subsequent sequels setting the framework for what people expect of the genre. From changing the way zombies work, to incorporating social commentary, and quirky groups of survivors that end up being as big a threat to each other and the monsters, he created many of the things that we all take for granted now. When Romero died it was thought that he'd had his final word on the zombie genre, but in 2020 writer Daniel Kraus released The Living Dead, Romero's final zombie story. Using hundreds of pages of notes and drafts, Kraus delivered Romero's final statement on the genre he pioneered. But it turns out that this would not be the final work from Romero. Now a new story, Pay the Piper offers readers a chance to see Romero take a stab at a very different kind of horror story.

Pay The Piper takes readers to the tiny town of Alligator Point, a settlement of 141 people deep in the Louisiana swamp. The town has long been home to stories of The Piper, a mysterious entity that lives out in the swamp and lures children away to their death. Most people think that it's nothing but a folk tale, a story passed down through the generations, but when children in Alligator Point begin to go missing, only to turn up dead in horrific ways, the 'sheriff' Pete Roosevelt, begins to think that perhaps there's some truth in the old tales.

One of the things that will immediately jump out to those who pick up Pay the Piper is that the book is absolutely packed with colourful and quirky characters. The town might be small, but it seems like Romero and Klaus went out of their way to give everyone in it something unique, some kind of character trait that makes them distinct. The already mentioned Pete quotes John Wayne all the time, Miss Ward the schoolteacher who sings at her students, the grouchy town doctor, and Gerald, the young boy with the obsession with marbles. It often feels like you could pluck any character out of the crowd in Alligator Point and make them the focus of their own story.

One of the main focuses for us, however, is Renée Pontiac, a nine-year-old girl with a sharp mind and a head full of knowledge. She's young, but comes across as much older, one of those kids who can argue down a fair few adults. Renée is an incredibly caring young girl, something we see in how she deals with her father's alcoholism, but it's when she loses her best friend to the monster in the swamp that we really see the depth to her care and love. Having a child being one of the central characters in a story and them not being a McGuffin in need of rescue and just having them be a regular protagonist is a difficult line to walk, and whilst there are times where Pay the Piper does stumble a little it manages to pull it off well for the most part.

'But where are the zombies?' I hear you ask. This is Romero after all. Well, that's where the book stands on its own from the rest of Romero's work. There's not a single zombie to be found within the pages of Pay the Pipe. Instead we get ancient octopus monster able to take on different forms to lure in it's victims. To that point it's a little like Stephen King's IT in places, but only in the vaguest sense. Romero and Klaus are able to make the Piper feel different enough from Pennywise that you don't really think about it beyond the most basic comparison. It also helps that the book tries to incorporate some interesting history and themes. The book touches upon piracy, the slave trade, colonialism, and racism, both in history and in its impact on the modern day.

Pay the Piper is an interesting book, and whilst there are times when you can kind of feel the two authors, where it feels that perhaps Klaus had to go a little bit alone, or maybe Romero's idea needed a bit more work, the book is overall an interesting and engaging read. With some very dark moments, and buckets of gore, it's a book that will likely surprise you until you remember its the product of the man who put people being ripped apart whilst still alive in most of his films.

In the film version of Jurassic Park, there's a quote from Jeff Goldblum's character Ian Malcolm that goes: "your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could that they didn't stop to think if they should".
In many ways it's a fitting analogy for the publication of George A. Romero's novel Pay the Piper.
The half-finished manuscript, thought to written in either the late 1990s or early 2000s, was recently unearthed by Daniel Kraus - who set about finishing off the story (with the blessing of Romero's estate) and publishing this southern fried spin on the pied piper fable about a Louisiana bayou community haunted by a swamp entity known as the Piper.
Kraus notes that Romero's draft, which clocked in at around 340-odd pages and then abruptly ended without any notes reads very much like an idea that had run out of steam.
Unfortunately, the finished product doesn't read much better.
The concept of Piper is a creepy one, and there is much to love about the setup of the Louisiana community. Unfortunately, everything feels underdone, and it ends up almost meandering along until a forced final confrontation.
There's a reason why ideas - even good ones - are sometimes shelved. One can't help but feel that Romero parked this one for a reason.

Some of the finest American horror fiction of the 20th and 21st centuries have set themselves in the bayous and swamps of Louisiana - THE CALL OF CTHULHU, INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE, RESIDENT EVIL 7, SCOOBY-DOO ON ZOMBIE ISLAND - and PAY THE PIPER, a novel created posthumously from an unfinished manuscript by legendary horror director, George Romero, is no different.

Alligator Point is a tiny Louisiana town with a population of 141, settled in a bayou by the legendary Pirates Lafitte some two centuries ago: however, something older, and more vengeful, lurks in the swamp besides the resident Pointers. Pontiac, aged nine, knows the Point as well as any adult, demonstrated by her detailed log of observations, and also knows about The Piper, a murderous entity which lures children into the bayou. However, the legend begins to feel real when children start to disappear and be found gruesomely slain, and unless the Pointers acknowledge the sins of their ancestors, the Pirates Lafitte - infamous slave traders - it may be time for all of them to meet the Piper…

Something I love about the current horror market is how writers and publishers are utilising the genre to discuss the horrors of history, and to give voice to those who have previously been ignored in the history books. Once again, I’ve proven myself to be swayed by comps and endorsements (you win, industry!), since PAY THE PIPER was endorsed by the author of one of my top books of 2024 so far, Tananarive Due: for those unaware, Due’s novel THE REFORMATORY, based on the history of Jim Crow Florida and the infamous Dozier School for Boys, not to mention Due’s own personal links to the atrocities taking place at the institution (her uncle, and protagonist’s namesake, was killed at the Dozier School for Boys at the age of fifteen), won the 2023 Bram Stoker Prize for Superior Achievement in a Novel, and as an expertly written novel of racism, institutional abuses and sibling bonds, it’s a title that really, really deserved the accolade. In many senses, PAY THE PIPER takes a very literal approach to this theme dominating US horror - that of the rot at the heart of US history, in this case, that of transatlantic slavery.

If you’re thinking what I’m thinking, it might be something along the lines of: “But Elizabeth? How can two white men write a book with the transatlantic slave trade at its heart and have it be sensitive and not inherently exploitative?” It’s a delicate balance struck in PAY THE PIPER, but one which fits pretty seamlessly with its central theme: people acknowledging the wrongdoings of their ancestors. In a Book Which Shall Not Be Named Here, But Is Likely Pretty Obvious, written by a white author, the background of such events in history as the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre, lynchings, and sundown towns are utilised in a slapdash way to counteract historical racism in weird fiction, but this doesn’t go far beyond a hypothetical question of “What if Black people existed in the world created by an infamously racist speculative author?” In fact, I found myself googling the author after about 100 pages due to the suspicious amount of times the n-word was used (on almost every other page), and consequently decided an editor should have perhaps made a memo somewhere: there are so many nuanced ways of discussing such a sensitive topic as racism in speculative fiction, and if your only strategy for doing that is throwing racial slurs at your Scrivener document like punctuation, perhaps take a writing class.

Unlike this, PAY THE PIPER situates itself in a specific way by tackling this topic (segue of the century) both sensitively and respectfully. It would have been easy to fall into the trap of utilising flashbacks to the mentioned atrocities in-text, but in what might be controversial in horror circles, this was a very good move on behalf of both writers. It’s an apt link back to the theme of the Pirates Lafitte’s evils being ignored for so long - we know it happened, but we aren’t privy to the details and our minds are left to conjure these horrors in retrospect, leaving us in the same position as the numerous Pointers - but equally ensures that unnamed Black enslaved people aren’t exploited as a narrative device to shock readers. This works in a similar way to common criticism of OPPENHEIMER (2023), in which several critics noted how they wished they had seen a scene of the atomic bomb actually detonating in Hiroshima - but why? What would it have added to a film about inherent guilt and pursuit of science above humanity to see the decimated bodies of Japanese bomb victims, when it is tackled in a far more effective and sensitive way on-screen? In this case, PAY THE PIPER narrowly succeeds in what could have been a disastrous approach to such a sensitive historical context, and while I don’t know if Titan Books utilises sensitivity readers, they did an excellent job: in this novel, the screams are enough.

In an introduction to literary criticism module in the first year of my undergraduate degree, part of a discussion on the nature of humanity discussed how octopi are almost the polar opposite to humans, hence why we view them as so alien - they’re fiercely intelligent, but unlike numerous mammals, or even creatures which live on land, we have essentially nothing in common with the octopus. I don’t remember which scholar initially argued this on account of being too invested in reading THE CALL OF CTHULHU for the first time as part of the required reading and being really freaked out. As denoted by the UK cover, octopi are at the heart of the horror in PAY THE PIPER, and Cthulhu even gets an on-page reference in this one: alongside a thematic link due to Lovecraft’s infamous racism (to be openly known as a racist in 1920s America took effort, apparently), with deuteragonist Doc even noting the derogatory way in which Lovecraft characterises his Cajun Cthulhu cult as swamp savages in the short story’s Louisiana section, the central monster of PAY THE PIPER, La Pieuvre, is rendered on-page using some excellent Lovecraftian-esque imagery. Those who, like me, particuarly enjoyed John Langan’s THE FISHERMAN will find some similar images at work here. Pertinent perhaps to Romero’s directorial accolades is the almost cinematic way each scene is produced, with some nice concrete setting and description work to complement the interiority of the ensemble cast. There’s similarly some expertly done doppelganger horror, which balances some of the more visceral horror with some creepy, unsettling menace. There are so many narrative themes and influences at work here - Lovecraftian genre tropes, the presence of voodoo, the inherent horror of Americana - that it’s an impressive depiction of how all these seemingly separate ideas come together in a cohesive horror plotline.

Unlike merely using it as a backdrop, PAY THE PIPER makes sure it’s a thoroughly Louisianan novel throughout its execution. The Cajun dialect takes centre-stage in numerous characters’ dialogue, and creates a brilliant sense of authenticity: it’s prominent, not merely peppered in to remind readers of the setting, and even to readers who may be newcomers to the dialect, it’s done in such a way that it’s easy to fall into the swing of the rhythms and terms used. Similarly, unlike previous works which use the bayous for horror, in which we might have an external all-American protagonist stumbling into the swamps, this is a novel where characters who might have previously been relegated to the role of ‘backwater local’ really get their day. Alligator Point is almost carnivalesque, away from the organised society of New Orleans (which, for the aforementioned all-Americans, might even be viewed as already wild and different from their own home cities), and as we can see, a distinct social order and culture has formed, where mysterious octopus carvings and alligator hunting verge on being societal keystones. Even in a pre-Hurricane Katrina Louisiana, however, the settlement isn’t without its issues: some proud marks of being a Pointer, others verging on breaking the tenuous society built on the bayou. Pointers live in shanties built by their pirate ancestors, alcoholism is rife - demonstrated most prominently by Pontiac’s father - and cancer is commonplace among the residents: whether it is caused by the vengeful La Pieuvre, or the oil refineries on the Gulf which continue to try and buy out the native Pointers from their land. We really get the sense that Alligator Point is this wild hinterland outside of the rest of America, quite literally stuck in the past - especially in the case of La Pieuvre.

Overall, PAY THE PIPER can be summed up as a novel by protagonist Pontiac; nine-years-old, mixed-race and a fierce tomboy, she almost obsessively notes down her observations and records everything that happens in the Point, an eventual mouthpiece for a downtrodden and impoverished, but culturally rich community, and equally those exploited and brought to watery graves by the Pirates Lafitte. In much the same way as Pontiac, PAY THE PIPER is fundamentally a novel about the importance of remembering, even the rot at the heart of society, and especially the unremembered names of those exploited and abused by the institution of US slavery.

*PAY THE PIPER was released by Titan Books on the 3rd of September, 2024: remember to support your brick-and-mortar bookshops, especially indies! Thank you to Titan Books for an eArc in exchange for an honest review.

Pay the Piper does a great job at showing how small, unheard of places on the map contain fully functioning inter-connected communities and livelihoods that have their own rich tapestry of history. No community's history is completely pure and Alligator Point, a cursed Louisiana Bayou, is no different.

Set in the backdrop of a dark past and a brave new world hurtling in, Pay the Piper is a story of personal demons, innocence, and long-harboured vengeance, all slowly climbing to a volatile boiling point.

This was such a wild ride. I loved the world-building, the heart, the scares... I am always blown away by how much more is in a George A. Romero story - and a huge thanks to Daniel Kraus to bringing this story to life. He did it brilliantly. I'm not zombie-shuffling, I'm running to get the other collab between them.

I am a big fan of George A Romero, both films and books and I have read most of Daniel Kraus’ work, mostly due to him working with Romero and Del Toro so I was excited for Pay the Piper and I can say I was not at all disappointed.

The novel is close, almost claustrophobic in spaces, engaging, atmospheric and of course supernatural. I loved everything about Pay the Piper from the characters that are likeable if not loveable (some at least) and most of all believable to the setting which is truly brought to life through the writing and of course the plot.

The pace does start a bit slower, to me at least, but I liked that and how we are slowly introduced to ‘The Piper’ and what is happening. I did also like that the Cajun dialect was reflected but not overly so in a way that may have been seen disrespectful. It helped immerse me but not over face me. I also adored Pontiac partly for her name but partly for her complexity.

As always I won’t spoil the plot and I will say there is a lot of twists, turns and points of views all of which I liked but I know so may not. Needless to say if you like supernatural horror that has elements of a reimaging of The Pied Piper and a sprinkle of Candyman, you will love this. If you enjoy the works of both authors you are also sure to enjoy this one too.

As always thank you to Netgalley and Titan Books for the copy to review. My review is always honest and truthful.

An atmospheric supernatural horror with a great sense of place and interesting, loveable characters. I enjoyed the sense of claustrophobia from both the environment and the community. However, the book felt a bit disjointed for me and I struggled to get in to a flow with it. Unfortunately, I did DNF this book. The pieces just didn’t quite fit together for me. The story feels so strong and unique but I just didn’t get that sense of dread that I was waiting for and found it hard to follow at times. I definitely recommend picking it up for fans of the authors and the genre. I would love to go back to this book in the future and give it another go.

Pay the Piper is a close, engaging, atmospheric novel of eldritch horror, rural community, and the infinite strength and perseverance of little girls.

Set in a rural bayou community in Louisiana, this novel follows a cast of characters, some victims, some unexpected heroes, all held in place by the stubborn, precocious, and curious Pontiac - a young girl whose fierce independence is outweighed only by her desire for knowledge. Each of the members of this community are beautifully and intensely realised, fleshed out to the fullest extent, given hopes, dreams, fears, and family. The place in which they live is an intense, realised character of its own, with moods and thoughts.

Romero, who began writing this, and Kraus, who finished writing it, are indistinguishable from each other, the story flows from one pen to the next with no noticeable break. This is a story which exists at the nexus of anti-colonialism, horror, drama, American Gothic, and mystery, pulling together elements of each genre and leaving us with a narrative as expected as it is unexpected, as familiar as it is startlingly unique, and as ruthless as it is grounded in heart. Utterly compelling from start to finish, Pay the Piper is more than a horror novel, it is a literary tour de force.

I would liken this to Arundhati Roy's The God of Small Things if only for the lush descriptions, and the way character portraits are penned. In both plot and tone, Pay the Piper bears little resemblance to the 1997 Book Prize winner, but I wouldn't say that's a bad thing! Having read both, I far preferred this, although there is undoubtedly some similarity in the way the settings of both works read as humid, colourful, dangerous, and claustrophobic as you imagine them to be in real life. Another text of comparison, I thought, was Kei Miller's Augustown, equally skilful with building setting, Miller's real talent is imbuing each page, each interaction, each description, with a sense of suspense, even foreboding, as the events of the novel build towards an "autoclaps." As Pay the Piper builds towards its own autoclaps, or calamity, there is a similar ratcheting up of the stakes, our emotional involvement, and suspense, culminating in a stirring narrative crescendo.

It has been a long time since I read something this successful. I have had a good few 5 star reads this year, but few felt as deeply considered as Pay the Piper. I hope this book gets all the love it deserves. 5 very deserved stars.

Thank you to Faber, Daniel Kraus, and the Estate of George A. Romero, (and NetGalley) for both creating such an exceptional book, and letting me read it in exchange for an honest review.

(I received this book from the editor and NetGalley in exchange for an honest review)

I was very curious about this novel that originates in some notes (300 pages, more or less, according to author Daniel Kraus), that belonged to the late George A. Romero, mostly because it did not deal with zombies but about what I thought was a cosmic being. Thankfully, Kraus himself explained that it dealt more with folk horror and so, even more intrigued, I jumped into the swampy waters of Louisiana Bayou and met Pontiac.
I was completely in love with her from the beginning, although sometimes it was hard for me to imagine a nine-year-old and made her older. Her way of speaking, of writing everything down, her conversations with papa… they were all amazing.
I really enjoyed the use of Cajun. My knowledge of the dialect was, until now, summarized to TV and movie characters, but I thought it was very pleasant first to read Kraus’ explanation about how he was going to put the accent on paper, and then discovering that his idea was just perfect and made the language flow even for readers like me, where English is not our mother tongue.
The rhythm of the story was the aspect I had more trouble with. It started amazing and with some very descriptive and spooky scenes, but kind of lost me for a minute once Pontiac and her father were not in town. Fortunately, it does not prolong much, and then the action gains momentum and does not stop almost until the end. And then there is this particular scene involving Pontiac and her teacher that I did not enjoy at all and I found completely out of place. It did not even explain anything necessary for the story or made it creepier! People who have read the novel will definitely know what I am talking about.
Last but not least, I would still debate whether this is more folk horror than cosmic horror or vice versa. Are we so influenced by giant tentacles that we think “cosmic” the moment we see them in a cover (that is what happened to me) or is this novel a mixture between folk and cosmic, curling the reader into an uneasy sense of impotence?

Uneasy read set in the Louisiana Bayou, good use of the Cajun dialect and great descriptive passages of the place helps to immerse you in this tale. You get the story told from different viewpoints and there is a threat looming within the narritive. Loved the character Pontiac a young girl who records everything she sees and comes across in her notebook. Solid horror read.

I read an eARC of this book on NetGalley so thank you to the author and publisher.

This was an entertaining horror novel that follows a community paying for the sins of their ancestors in the face of a supernatural horror. This is set in the Louisiana Bayou and I liked how integral this was to the story. It really felt like this couldn’t have been set anywhere else. The swamp and the water are so specifically described, so active in the story.

We have a number of characters, but it seems fair to say that Pontiac is the main character, a hound girl who has been tasked to record everything and who fills copious notebooks with her observations, allowing her to see things that others might miss. She is brave and clever and has to deal with the alcoholism of her father, who loves her but struggles with his addiction.

The horror in this was well described, appearing differently to different characters, preying on their thoughts and emotions. Although there are common themes and clues that the characters discover as they try to work out what is preying on the community. While I enjoyed most of the horror in this, there was one part that I found deeply uncomfortable to the point that it disturbed my enjoyment of the novel as it involved inappropriate dialogue with a child. It was very shocking but I would have preferred this to not be in the book.

Overall this was a tense, clever and entertaining horror novel with a broad cast of characters, looking at the consequences of the past and a brave few standing up against evil.

I love an isolated tale, a tale that seeped in atmosphere and a sense of place. Where you can almost feel it’s weather system – hot sticky heat to freezing temperatures. Pay the Piper was that story for me. Set in the Louisiana Bayou, I could imagine the sticky temperatures and wet marshlands.

As a horror setting that had everything to offer – dark, mysterious, wondering if something could harbor ill feelings below the surface. Colour me intruiged.

This is a bit of a genre beinding read, from cosmic horror to supernatural, there’s bound to be something in it for everyone. Characterisation was strong and accented english a calling card to the past. Difficult topics such parental death and cancer should remain in the forefront of your mind if these are subjects that are triggering. Each character is fleshed out-Pontaic being everything I would have loved reading about as a teenager. She’s spunky, independent and so far removed from everything girly that I found myself rooting for her.

The story reminded me a lot of IT with the unknown monster and a coming of age group of children. That’s where the comparision ends for me. It wasn’t as strong and I did feel that many parts of the story dragged on too DAMN long. There was one part where I considered DNF’ing but I’m glad I stuck with it as the ending left me with a better taste in my mouth.

I went into this expecting a modern take on The Pied Piper story, what I got was way, way more than that.
Set deep in the wetlands of Louisiana, this supernatural horror tosses and turns, playing with your mind from start to finish.
It's an absolute masterclass in horror writing, delving deep into the lives of a select group of swamp dwellers and then even further into their colonial past and a possible new future for all.
Don't not sleep on this cosmic delight!

Set in the swamps of Louisiana, Alligator Point is slowly crumbling. Many residents have left after accepting offers for their land from the "Oil Man," while businesses struggle and children vanish under mysterious circumstances.

"Pay the Piper" unfolds through the perspectives of several characters: Pontiac, a fiery 9-year-old girl; her father Gerard, the town drunk; Miss Ward, Pontiac’s reclusive teacher; and Pete, the town sheriff with a fondness for John Wayne movies.

Thank you NetGalley for the ARC.

A quick but uneasy read with a reimagining of Pied the Piper crosses Candyman.
I found the opening gripping, and enjoyed many of the POVs, some of the pacing and the descriptive style, and most of the characters.
Had the pacing been more consistent, and the themes and tones more focused, this would have been a 5 star read for me.
Pontiac is an exceptionally interesting character.

A supernatural horror that transports you to Louisiana. I adored the character Pontiac, she stands out from everyone completely. Every character is rich and flawed. We follow a number of POV and this keeps the pace and sets out the plot amazingly.
I haven’t actually read a swamp horror before and it’s certainly an amazing setting for it, I was there at Alligator Point!
The dialogue is full of humour and it’s sharp. The signs of great writing.
The past and how it can still have a hold on the present is just brilliant.
I recommend for those looking for an atmospheric horror.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for an ARC. This is a voluntary review of my own thoughts.

4.5 stars!

Scary from the start but with the perfect amount of character building to make you actually care about the terrible things that were happening to them. Some characters were barely in the book and yet they felt so real. The multiple viewpoints was really effective and helped show the sense of community and scale in Alligator Point.

I got big IT vibes throughout which was great. In fact, the only issue I had with it was the setting - I just couldn't picture a lot of it in my mind, but that's definitely due to my lack of familiarity with the bayou rather than a problem with the writing.

I have seen other reviewers report this as dark and bleak and I would agree, nonetheless it’s a great read and I would absolutely recommend this book

George A. Romero, who has remained best known for popularising the modern concept of zombies with the Night Of The Living/Dawn/Day Of The Dead trilogy, has been overlooked for so much more—whether adapting King with The Dark Half and Creepshow or directing the wildly underrated vampire movie Martin. He also turned his hand to writing. When Daniel Kraus (best known for Whalefall and co-writing Oscar-winning The Shape Of Water) was granted access to Romero's archives, he discovered an unfinished novel likely from 1998 but potentially as late as 2004. The framework was there, the loose ends ready to tie, and it just needed somebody to bring it all together. The result is Pay The Piper.

Set in the Southern Louisiana bayous, the story focuses on Alligator Point—population 141—and its inhabitants. A fascinating and mysterious location for fiction, from the Cajun dialect used throughout to the slang used in the region to the myths and belief system, it feels almost otherworldly—self-governing and insular, the rot & decay of the town reflecting in the people who live there. We meet and get to know a wide cast of characters, with the protagonist being 9-year-old Pontiac (don't use her first name). It can be a risk regularly introducing new names, but it's handled with a deft touch here, with so many of the cast brought vividly to life. By the time the story pares down to a core group, each is fully fleshed out with backstories and believable motivation, and I found myself caring deeply about them all.

The horror here is wide-ranging. From the supernatural to cosmic, animal attack to human, to the ripple effects of the town's slave-trading ancestors, the story manages to evolve and keep the reader on their toes throughout. An argument could be made that the messages end up getting a little muddled, with 'sins of the father' and environmental issues occasionally jockeying for prominence, but I think Kraus ultimately brings it all together.

Pay The Piper is a dark, often bleak read—but light does shimmer through. As a modern take on the story of the Pied Piper implies, many characters won't make it to the end, and it can hurt. There's power, though, in writing down the mistakes others make and learning from them, making things right—regret and redemption go hand-in-hand, and sometimes an attempt at balancing the scales is enough.