Thursday, July 16, 2015

Top Ten Scary Tunes | No Rest for the Wicked Blog Tour

Hi, folks! My name’s Dane Cobain, and I’m the author of a new supernatural thriller called No Rest for the Wicked, which follows the story of the elderly Father Montgomery as he struggles to protect his parishioners from mysterious, evil Angels.
Today, I’m here to talk about my pick of the top ten scary tunes to listen to whilst reading it, or indeed in general. We played a lot of these songs at the launch party for the book here in the UK, and you can check out my full list over on YouTube. Let’s get started!

10 – Cradle of Filth: Dinner at Deviant’s Palace
I usually can’t stand Cradle of Filth, but this song is brilliantly haunting, complete with some crazy backwards vocals, sinister string sections and all sorts of other cool stuff.

9 – Black Sabbath: Black Sabbath
This was one of the earliest songs that really captured horror as part of a song, and it works insanely well. It’s one of the only tracks to make it onto this list that also includes lyrics.

8 – The Exorcist Theme
The interesting thing about The Exorcist Theme is that it sounds sinister enough as a standalone piece. When you factor in its relationship to the film, it gets even more intense. It can also work pretty well if you leave this song on a loop!

7 – American Horror Story: Title Theme
This one was suggested by Carla, who works at the venue that hosted the party – I’m kind of annoyed that I didn’t think of it myself! This is probably the pick that I find the scariest out of the whole lot, but it’s not necessarily the best. There’s more to come!

6 – Slipknot: XIX
I used to love Slipknot when I was younger, but I only discovered this track fairly recently and so I suspect it’s from one of their newer albums. Still, it’s suitably sinister, and I like that half of it is an instrumental and half of it has vocals. You should check it out!

5 – Nobuo Uematsu: Liberi Fatali
This is the first of two entries for Nobuo Uematsu, the composer who worked on the Final Fantasy series. This particular track is from Final Fantasy VIII, and it used to scare the hell out of me when I was playing the game and it started up. As soon as I started pulling together this list, I knew I had to include it!

4 – WWF: The Undertaker Theme Song
I’ve been getting back into wrestling of late, for some reason, and so I had to include either Kane’s theme or The Undertaker’s theme. Kane’s theme is pretty cool, but most of the fear factor comes from Kane himself, rather than the music – here, though, we’ve got church gongs and an overall sinister sound that works perfectly.

3 – Nobuo Uematsu: One-Winged Angel
This is another Final Fantasy tune – you might recognise this one as Sephiroth’s theme from Final Fantasy VII. It’s just another great piece of sinister, tension-building classical music.

2 – John Debney: End of Days
I can’t really tell you too much about this one, as this was another suggestion from a friend of mine – all I know is, it sounds awesome, particularly when you pump it through a PA system inside a converted church!

1 – Burzum: Ansuzgardaraiwô
Burzum is the name for the musical project by a guy called Varg Vikernes, who’s mental. He used to burn down churches and be part of the Norwegian black metal scene, and he served a prison sentence for killing a man. This track was written and recorded whilst he was in prison – he wasn’t allowed a guitar, so he had to record with synths. Spooky!

So there we have it – those are my top ten scary tunes! What did you think of the list? Be sure to let me know with a comment, or to hit me up on Facebook or Twitter. You can also visit me at and check out No Rest for the Wicked on Amazon right here. I’ll see you soon.

No Rest for the Wicked
Dane Cobain

Genre: Supernatural Thriller

Publisher: Booktrope/Forsaken

Cover Artist: Ashley Ruggirello

Book Description:

When the Angels attack, there’s NO REST FOR THE WICKED.
Father Montgomery, an elderly priest with a secret past, begins to investigate after his parishioners come under attack, and with the help of Jones, a young businessman with an estranged child, Montgomery begins to track down the origin of the Angels.

The Angels are naked and androgynous. They speak in a dreadful harmony with no clear leader. These aren’t biblical cherubs tasked with the protection of the righteous – these are deadly creatures of light that have the power to completely eradicate.

When Jones himself is attacked, Father Montgomery knows he has to act fast. He speaks to the Angels and organises a final showdown where he’s asked to make the ultimate sacrifice.

Available at Amazon
Chapter One: A Fair Trial

Wednesday November 11th, 2009

They grew out of the darkness, mysterious shapes hiding in plain sight in abstract mockery of the senses.
In the living room of a dingy flat in Hammersmith, tall and proud and shimmering in the air like a mirage, they stood; the only other light was a flickering television set that broadcast white noise to the sleeping occupant of the sofa.
Their shared voice echoed around the room like an organ in a cathedral, as powerful as independent thought. None of them moved – they just quaked with anticipation. The heap of dirty clothes on the sofa began to move and an ashen face emerged. He looked around the room in a sleepy daze. A matted beard framed his sunken eyes – grey on grey. He smelled like a pub before the smoking ban – an unpleasant cologne of nicotine and whiskey. When he saw that he wasn’t alone, he climbed unsteadily to his feet.
“Who are you?” he asked, shading his eyes to look at them. “What are you doing in my house?” With every passing second, his eyes adjusted and grew wider.
“Our identity is unimportant.” Their voices echoed around the room in perfect harmony, the eerie unison astounding, incredible, and terrifying. “We are defined by our purpose. You should already know what we are.”
“Angels,” he replied, avoiding their ferocious stare. “I’ve heard of you. But you’re not real.”
“Are you?” they asked, and he frowned.
“I’m more real than you are. You’re just rumours and hearsay, a hallucination.”
“Does that matter?”
“If I rub my eyes, you’ll disappear. You were never here in the first place.” He closed his eyes and pinched the thin skin on the inside of his elbow, but he felt the pain and didn’t wake up.
When he opened his eyes, the Angels were still there.
“Eric Solomon,” they boomed, in a voice that demanded attention.
He looked at them imperiously. “You’re real,” he whispered.
“We know that you are a sinner. You have wasted your life by drinking away the nights, bloated with lust for actresses and models. You have worshipped false idols, from musicians to cartoon characters. You have lied, cheated, stolen, and swindled your way through life.”
Solomon raised his hand to interrupt them, but they continued to talk as if he weren’t even there. The Angels didn’t raise their voices – they just refused to be unheard. It was as though they were talking silently and he was listening with his soul.
“You have committed each of the seven sins and an endless number of others. Your apocalypse is now. Do you have anything to say in your defence? Will you repent? Will you kneel and beg for forgiveness before the sheepdogs of the Lord? Justify yourself.”
“Why should I?” he cried.
“If you do not, you will be purged.”
“What happened to a fair trial?”
“We are a fair trial. Speak.” It wasn’t a command, but Solomon felt compelled to answer.
“‘I’ve enjoyed myself, isn’t that the point? I’ve led a happy life and been nice enough to the people I’ve known. I’ve never been violent and I’ve always worked hard, I’m just down on my luck at the moment. There’s a recession.”
“We know everything and more.”
“Then you already know what’s going to happen?”
“Correct. But knowledge of the future is not meant for you. Do you have anything else to add to your defence?”
“I’m not afraid to die.” Solomon sighed and stood tall, a fraction of his former self.
Without seeming to move, the Angels grew nearer, and Solomon was surrounded. He could feel the heat from their bodies and see the wall-mounted clock through their translucent flesh. He stared at the second hand; it ticked, and the Angels stepped through him.
Solomon shrieked as white-hot pain passed through him, and he whimpered as he smelled his own burning flesh. He thought that the pain was unbearable; then, it intensified. The Angels were strengthened by his imminent death, and their bodies started to solidify. Solomon slipped into an unconsciousness from which he’d never wake, and the Angels caught his falling body with ease.
As they held him, draped across their arms like a battered rug, he ignited. None of the Angels flinched; they stood, staring at the fire, with an inscrutable expression on their androgynous faces. In the distance, a car horn honked impatiently. Seconds later, it sounded again; the flames began to die down, Solomon’s body reduced to dust and ash.
“You lied, Mr. Solomon,” they said, scattering the powdered remains across the floor. “You were afraid to die.”
The Angels walked towards the wall, passing through it as the widescreen television behind them continued to broadcast static, and the eerie sound kept the ashes company.

About the Author:

Dane Cobain is a writer and poet from a place you've probably never heard of, somewhere in England. His debut novella, a supernatural thriller called 'No Rest for the Wicked', will be released by Forsaken in the summer of 2015. When he's not writing books, he's reading and reviewing them on his book blog, - Charles Bukowski, Graham Greene and Phillip Pullman are favourites.

Find him at or follow @DaneCobain on Twitter.

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1 comment:

Dane Cobain` said...

Big thanks for having me!