Morrell, David: Creepers
David Morrell's Creepers is indeed creepy. Guy-with-a-secret-past Frank Balenger joins a foursome of urban rangers as they infiltrate a shuttered, turn-of-the-century hotel in New Jersey's Asbury Park. The Paragon Hotel--brainchild of long dead agoraphobic hemophiliac Morgan Carlisle--was glamorous in its prime. Now it's Miss Havisham's banquet hall writ large, rotted and rat infested, its floors collapsing, inhabited by things that go bump--and much, much worse--in its perpetual night. The hotel, though, harbors treasures within, not least of them the century of history that's played out in its rooms. Morrell's story is, shall we say, unlikely, maybe over the top. But it's certainly a page turner. Suspend disbelief for a while (I myself question the fire-quenching capacity of the principals' urine, which seems out of proportion to its volume) and you may enjoy it.
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