Dustin Warburton’s writing reminds me of Robert Mitchum in The Night of the Hunter: He’s a two-fisted preacherman with love in his right hand, hate in his left. And what he is preaching in these pages is what he loves and what he hates, which is what writing horror fiction is all about. These stark, surreal fever-dreams confront the innocent and the ordinary with violence, loss, and enigmatic visions from beyond. Strange things, indeed … -Douglas Winter