Thirteen Frightful Stories To Get You In The Halloween Mood!!

 

Thirty Days 'Till Halloween!  

It's only October 1st, but let's kick things off with a Halloween round-up.

Some guidelines for what to expect with my write-ups: I'll do a brief synopsis, often some sort of idiosyncratic rating or ranking, and then my thoughts.

1) Spoilers: I'll generally try to avoid them; the synopsis will generally give about as much information as I imagine you'd see if it was the episode description for a TV series. In terms of the "Thoughts" section--no such promises, although I'll try to err on the side of discretion. The older and/or better known a piece is, the more I'll assume you may have read it already. If you're on the fence, I'd advise you to go read the story in question and then come back and read the write-up. 

2) Content Warnings: I generally won't have them, although I'd note that this is horror fiction, and that I have a pretty strong stomach which means we may go some unpleasant places. However, if the overwhelming bulk of the blog post deals with particularly upsetting content, I'll try to mention it.

3) Review Philosophy: I respect writers, and I believe respect both means being considerate of the time they've taken to express themselves and share it with the world, and being honest about what works and what doesn't. I'll try to be clear as to when I don't like a story because it's "not for me" (but otherwise strong) and when I don't like a story or a part of it because I think it's weak. The flipside is true, too--I reserve the right to be as fawning in my praise as I want, too!

Ready? Let's go!

1) "He'll Come Knocking at Your Door" by Robert R. McCammon

Synopsis: Life's been great for Dan Burgess and his family ever since they moved to Essex. The whole town's like a lucky charm, in fact! Raffles and lotteries tend to go your way, promotions are yours for the asking, and even the gardens produce prodigious crops. Well, there's a string attached. You can probably guess who it is on the other end. The good news--all you have to do is play a little trick or treat. Either you give the treat, or you suffer the trick. . .

How Hallowen-y is it? 7 out of 10 Milky Ways. It doesn't have to be set on Halloween, but it makes sense that it is.

Thoughts: Like a lot of McCammon's work, the pleasure isn't necessarily in something totally new, but in ideas you've seen before executed with panache and energetic fun. It's the Faustian bargain, again, in the small-town context and a tight, TV-friendly structure (you can almost imagine where the commercial breaks) with still plenty of room to add local flavor and small grace notes along the way. In this one, the destination is the ride. Maybe even literally, as Dan finds out. This story is a great way to get into spooky season.

2) "The Folding Man" by Joe R. Lansdale

Synopsis: Three young men play a Halloween joke on the occupants of a mysterious black car. Things go very wrong, especially when The Folding Man comes out to play.

How Halloween-y is it? 7 out of 10 Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Halloween is the only night something this wild and weird can happen! 

Thoughts: Time for a long preamble: When I got back into horror fiction after college, I jumped into the sleazy and the violent and the tawdry. Richard Laymon, Ed Lee, all the Leisure Books stuff. Problem was that although my hometown library did have some Laymon and Ketchum, the anthology pickings were slimmer and it was mostly Ellen Datlow-edited anthologies that were, for my callow taste, much too "literary" and not bloodthirsty enough. I outright shunned, I'm afraid to say, the couple of Year's Best Fantasy and Horror volumes they still had on the shelves. The reference to "fantasy", combined with the Thomas Canty cover art, conjured up visions of elves and unicorns and stuff I wanted no part of.

I was...stupid.

As it turns out, many of the stories from The Dark and Inferno and the first few volumes of Best Horror of the Year that I did read have stuck with me for one or two decades now, so joke's on me. But even then, there were still a few stories that satisfied my more visceral needs. "The Folding Man" was one. Lansdale just jumps in--there's no preamble, no set up, we just start on the road, drunk out of our minds, and about to pull our pants down to moon some nuns. And then the nuns give them the finger back. And then. . . Every bit is pure Lansdale--it's very funny throughout, even while being scary. And it's endlessly, creatively gross; there's a reference to someone's body being slammed against trees and throwing off pieces of "clothing and meat." There are bits and pieces of familiar inspiration here (the Folding Man sounds a bit like the Pumpkinhead demon), but this is all Joe, and you imagine him grinning while writing it.

3) "The Cutty Black Sow" by Thomas F. Monteleone

Synopsis:  Gran-Gran, 103 years old, died on Halloween--so now it's up to young Jamie to protect the family's souls that day from the Cutty Black Sow. 

How Halloween-y is it? 8 out of 10 Candy Corns: The Samhainn (the Scots add an extra 'n') vibe is excellent, and something about this story just reminds me of being a kid in the Midwest during Halloween. I can smell the leaves, feel the cold, and remember sitting and reading books with stories just like this one.

Thoughts: There's a rare sort of horror story that's not just appropriate for a child but ideal for them (because it deals with childhood, or a child's point of view) but still plenty scary enough for adults. It's no surprise that this became one of the best Tales from the Darkside episodes, because that show also threaded the needle between "okay, here's a Creepshow TV show" and "can't be too edgy."

4) "The October Game" by Ray Bradbury

Synopsis: A bitter man determines to lash out at his wife by way of their daughter at their Halloween party.

How Halloween-y Is It? 10 out of 10 Bags of M&Ms. Nobody does good old all-American atmosphere like Ray Bradbury, and that's especially true of Halloween. It's a holiday of childhood, of excitement, of terror, and of the suburbs. It's as up Bradbury's alley as anything could be.

Thoughts: What stands out in this story, and what feels uncharacteristic for Bradbury, is the amount of hate in it. Mitch is infected by hate, so much so that he commits an abominable crime, hideous and cruel and unnatural. And, not only that, he's done it in a way which all but guarantees he'll be caught. He's single-minded in his hatred.

Louise herself sounds hateful as well, jealously guarding her daughter from him. Or is she? Mitch insists that neither Marion nor Louise love him, but certainly the former's behavior is consistent with a loving daughter, and this story, while third-person, is a close third-person tied to Mitch's subjectivity. Is Louise really hateful, or is it all in Mitch's head?

If we want to wade a little bit further, we could note that the Halloween nature of Mitch's revenge corresponds neatly to his pathology. Mitch is consumed with hatred against women; he forced a child upon Louise and almost killed her, and then comes to hate his only offspring for the sheer fact of being a girl and not a son (and heir) (shades of Dombey & Son!). And the particular nature of his revenge has some misogynistic undertones: This iteration of the "dead man" game is "The Tomb of the Witch" and the game begins with gloating that the "witch is dead".

Anyway. . .this may have the best final line in all horror fiction. And as a bonus, you can read the EC Comics version here!

5) "Heavy-Set" by Ray Bradbury

Synopsis: 31 year old Leonard is an electrical lineman for work, but his real passion is working out obsessively. His sculpted body is a hit with the ladies (and some admiring male friends), but he doesn't really connect with anyone (to his mother's dismay). Ah well, maybe the Halloween party will offer some entertainment.

How Halloween-y Is It? 3 out of 10 Malted Milk Balls: It doesn't really need to happen on Halloween, except for that evocative little boy costume.

Thoughts: Bradbury gets two on here, and we're back to screwed-up parent-child relationships, and Halloween parties gone wrong. This is a strong story with a good deal of ambiguity, and I think there are three ways to parse this (and more than one may be partly correct). 

The first is that Leonard is autistic, or otherwise somewhat developmentally delayed. He's obsessive about his hobby (fitness), he doesn't fit in well with others, and even though he can make friends, his relationships aren't very strong. At times he seems overly literal, to the point of being quarrelsome (query to what degree the excuses he makes for why he can't go out might not be excuses, but might be reasons that seem important to him. At one point his mother wonders just when it was that "the thing happen[ed] that put him up on that pole alone and working out alone every night?" (No, not THAT kind of pole). Leonard choosing a little boy outfit for the party is keeping with this sort of arrested development. The ending, where he's angrily squeezing his crush grippers, comes off as a sort of sexual frustration that might turn to violence. That's a reading I've seen several people mention. 

The second reading is that Leonard's gay (whether or not he quite realizes it yet): "Atlas" and "Samson" and "Butch" and "Hercules" are his nicknames and all that of course comes from, among other things, comic book male physique ads and 1950s sword-and-sandal movies, both of which helped many young men learn something about themselves ("Joey, do you like movies about gladiators?"). Plus the fact that he's more interested in friendships with boys than with girls, and that he always attracts fawning high-school boys who love feeling his biceps. On the other hand, he often makes excuses to his young hangers-on as well. The violent sublimation of sexual impulses tracks here, too.

The third reading, and the one that made the most sense to me this time around (although I think it's much more tenuous), is ickier. Not that the first two leave you with a warm and happy feeling but. . . isn't there some sort of Oedipal relationship between them? Less so on his end (although silently entering one's mother's room in a little boy costume is a little more this sort of Arrested Development), but maybe on hers. Certainly she'd like her child to find an appropriate partner.  And I realize the implication here is that if he stops squeezing his crush grippers he'll squeeze her neck (at least). But isn't there something more than a little fevered, a little ecstatic, a little the-end-of-Ulysses about her final reverie? 

"She wanted to sit up and scream for him to throw those awful noisy things away. She wanted to slap them out of his fingers.

But then, she thought, what would he do with his hands? What could he put in them? What would he, yes, what would he do with his hands?

So she did the only thing she could do, she held her breath, shut her eyes, listened, and prayed, O God, let it go on, let him keep squeezing those things, let him keep squeezing those things, let him, let him, oh let, let him, let him keep squeezing … let … let …

It was like lying in bed with a great dark cricket.

And a long time before dawn."

Is she not perhaps worried about what they both might be capable of?

6) "Gone" by Jack Ketchum

Synopsis: It was a moment of inattention years ago that allowed the kidnapper to steal Helen's daughter. It's one moment that ruined her life and made her into an outcast in the community. Tonight, on Halloween, she dares to make a small bit of effort and reach back out. . .

How Halloween-y Is It? 7 Out Of 10 Almond Joys: The Halloween-ness of this story sneaks up on you. On paper, it doesn't have very much to do with Halloween. But Halloween night supports a lot of the plot here by explaining how and why things happen.

Thoughts: Moving from one story with an unsettling ending involving a mother to another, we have Jack Ketchum/Dallas Mayr's Stoker-winning "Gone." There's been a lot of ink spilled on this story, one of Ketchum's best, and it's hard to improve on the scholarship that's been done on it. The pivotal point here is the ending, which is justly famous in how it works and what it implies(there are a few implications, actually--one of them's the 'official' one most supported by the text Gary Braunbeck has written extensively on this story, and Nicole Cushing has in turn written extensively on the story and on Braunbeck's commentary, so I'll leave that to them.

So let me try a slightly different tack: Ignore the ending. This would be on this list without the ending. Ketchum creates a world of endless greyness, endless regret, endless shadow. It is the sort of story that makes your soul die, except that's not true: Because when you read a story like this, even if it's fictional, you're engaged in empathy and connecting with and feeling for another at their most vulnerable and wishing for just a bit of solace for this woman. Which is among the purposes of the human soul, I think. And (if you're anything like I am), wishing for just a bit of solace for this woman.

But it does have the ending and by the time that arrives you're already tethered emotionally to Helen, so that when it crashes in upon her it doesn't stop there, it zips all the way up that psychic connective line and off the page and right into YOU.

7) "Miss Mack" by Michael McDowell

Synopsis: Soda-guzzling Miss Mack and pretty young Miss Faulk are a pair of small-town schoolteachers and close friends. Unfortunately, principal Mr. Hill has his eye on Miss Faulk, and needs to separate the two women. Even more unfortunately, Mr. Hill's mother is a witch who's more than happy to clear the way for her son's suit.

How Halloween-y Is It? 5 out of 10 Snickers Bars. It doesn't need to happen on Halloween, but it makes sense that it does. Witchcraft and everything.

Thoughts: Will Errickson, who I think likes the story a bit more than I do (although it's great, don't get me wrong!), has a super-detailed deep dive here. One thing I'd note is that this functions like a weird inversion of "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow." In this case, the scheming man after the pretty girl triumphs, whereas his "rival" (maybe not romantically, although there's an undeniable homoerotic element to the Mack-Faulk relationship), is a schoolteacher who gets cut out of the equation in a much meaner way than Ichabod Crane. The other thing I'd note is that McDowell does mean Southern witches like nobody's business--Mrs. Hill is a nasty piece of work, much like her counterpart in The Amulet.

8) "Pranks" by Robert Bloch

Synopsis: A kaleidoscopic view of Halloween night in one suburb from the point of view of several different families. And maybe something else...

How Halloween-y Is It? 10 out of 10 Mrs. See's Truffles. Bloch is pure Halloween fun, both old-fashioned and able to bring the chills.

Thoughts:  Bloch's brand of jocular horror fits the "Scare me, but let's have fun and not get too carried away" spirit of Halloween merriment. Yet, for all the fun and games, there's a feeling of panic that grows and grows until the hysteria reaches fever pitch. To say more would spoil the fun, so I won't. As the great Conal Cochran from Halloween III: Season of the Witch would say... "It's the best joke of all. A joke on the children."

9) "Apples" by Ramsey Campbell

Synopsis: Mr. Gray, the localmean old man, accuses our heroes of being the apple-snatching kids who blight his life. To show him wrong, our heroes steal apples from mean and creepy Mr. Gray's trees. This has some bad results, beginning, but not ending, with Mr. Gray's death.

How Halloween-y Is It? 9 out of 10 Cadbury Dairy Milk Fruit and Nut Bars.  As chilly as a late October night, as fun as a costume contest, and as squirm-inducing as biting into a mealy apple.

Thoughts: Instead of Campbell's usual close third-person narration, we have a child's eye-view of things. This works well with the story, which, while scary, is a straightforward cautionary tale ghost story that is all over children's fantastic literature.

Mr. Gray's creepiness isn't just being a standard grumpy old man turned ghost. He chases the kids with the garden shears with Cropsy-like zest, but that's not all: We learn from the narrator's mum that Mr. Gray had "some books about kids. Maybe he didn’t like kids because he was afraid of what he might do to them, she said, but that was all she’d say."

That ties the story together for me, and I want to unpack it. To be sure, the story would work just fine without it. We'd have a straight-forward ghost story with a classic ending (Andrew's hair turning white). And some might say that this is just the gratuitous injection of upsetting real life material (child abuse) into a story that was doing just fine without it. 

But think about the economy of what Campbell's done, which is similar to what makes the original Freddy Krueger such an effective villain: In the original films, Freddy was a child killer, and is coded as being a sexual predator ("I'm your boyfriend now, Nancy") but I believe it's not until the remake that he's explicitly made into one. It's the same thing with Peter Lorre in M: He's clearly coded as a pedophile (at least), but it isn't explicit.

Why does this matter? In all three works, what we have is a villain who is suggested to be a pedophile, but without any real effort being spent on showing it. The result is to make all subsequent interactions the villain has with the children that much more queasy without having to go all in and explicitly depict things one would rather not depict. Well, Krueger and Gray's subsequent interactions with young people are already upsetting because both of them are dead, but you see the point. Every moment in the climax when Mr. Gray is in physical contact with a kid is that much worse. . . because of the implication.

The other point here is that Campbell paints an unobtrusive picture of the lower/working class housing estate milieu. "The lamps that were supposed to stop people from being mugged turned everything grey in the allotments and made Mr. Gray's windows look as though they had metal shutters on." It's perfect--that description of the lamps tells you what you sort of place this is, then provides some creepy description, then reinforces the socio-economic implications with a reference to metal shutters (the same kind one might have on a home or shop in a rough area, perhaps). Again, economy and efficiency of effect.

10) "The Boy Who Loved The Twilight Zone" by Richard Laymon

Synopsis: Chuck just wants to stay home and watch the Twilight Zone marathon on TV tonight. But his parents force him to go out. It turns out Halloween has other inducements. Like pretty girls. And like nice men who're more than happy for you to come into their homes and watch The Twilight Zone with them.

How Halloween-y Is It? 8 out of 10 Twizzlers: Perfectly pitched for an audience (this was from a YA horror anthology) that's gotten too old to have child-friendly Halloween but is much too young for the adult-friendly kind.

Thoughts: A lot of what I appreciate about Laymon's writing is on display here. To wit: Laymon writes like a teenage boy thinks.

"Exactly," his many detractors will exclaim. I mean it as a compliment, though. Yes, all of his characters are pretty much always thinking with their libidos, even when (especially when) doing so leads them into situations that are dangerous, unethical, and/or illegal. And I don't mean, thank heaven, that most teenage boys go around thinking about the very bad stuff many of Laymon's characters get up to. But what they do think about and feel is the thrum of desire, no matter the situation.  

There's a scene in The Stake, for example, where our protagonist is sort of flirting, sort of not with his best friend's wife. It doesn't go anywhere (neither of them are really trying to cheat), but Laymon paints a picture of the hyper-awareness of the situation that's long stuck with me. It's a feeling that anyone who's ever been watching a movie with someone and wondering when to make the right move could relate to, a million calculations as to what body part is brushed up against what, what signals both people are giving and receiving, what the next move is. . . It is a more accurate picture of the lived experience of human desire, the actual mechanics and thought process, than I've read in any number of "serious" books. 

The desire in this story is much more watered down than what we usually see from Laymon, which is a good thing given the context, but it's no less potent.

This story speaks to me for a personal reason as well: I too was a "boy who loved The Twilight Zone." I watched every episode I could get my hands on, and for the rest, I read Marc Scott Zicree's The Twilight Zone Companion like a Bible. I used to worship The Twilight Zone. So when I first read this story in junior high, I felt kinship with Chuck and his wanting to stay home and watch TZ even though I also wanted him to go for the pretty girl who seems interested in him and likes holding his hand. 

I do hope he made the right decision.

11) "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" by Washington Irving

Synopsis: Superstitious schoolmaster Ichabod Crane's plans for advancing his position in the town of Sleepy Hollow, New York go awry when it seems something else wants to get ahead (heh heh heh) even more than he does. . .

How Halloween-y Is It? 10 Out of 10 Butterfingers. This story gets an unfair advantage in that it's so much older than the rest of this list, and in no small part has been able to influence our very notions of what Halloween is, at least in America.

Notes:  This is one of those stories which has been so key to American letters and folklore and the fantastic ever since it was written. I won't unpack it, other than to say that this is one of those stories you should go re-read because you probably aren't remembering it quite right. Forget Walt Disney. Forget Tim Burton. The original is funnier and more atmospheric than you remember.

12) "The Spook Man" by Al Sarrantonio

Synopsis: It's Halloween in Anytown, USA, and a weird carnival has shown up, and everyone goes into hiding. Except for a few brave kids who love horror and want to go meet The Spook Man. 

How Halloween-y Is It? 10 out of 10 Toffee Apples. This isn't just a Halloween story, this is a story about Halloween, and horror in general.

Thoughts: Two Octobers ago, one of the many books that got me through some dark and murky times was Sarrantonio's short story collection Toybox. Sarrantonio had been in my good books for a long time on the basis of the anthology 999 (which I'll be discussing a lot more on here in the future), but his own stories never quite clicked for me. They felt too childish, and maybe a little too derivative of Ray Bradbury. And, taken one on one, that's a fair impression. But. . . 

Here's a digression:  Years ago, I was at a wine tasting, and the sommelier learned that I didn't like white wine that much. He gave me a slice of lemon to suck on before trying the next glass. I did, and then the wine I drank next tasted lush and wet and sweet.

In other words: Sometimes you have to prepare your palate. In the case of an author who has a certain style, sometimes that means getting many stories in a row into their oeuvre. Then, once you 'get' them, you know what to expect. That's been my experience with Sarrantonio and Bentley Little (and, to a lesser extent, Robert Aickman).

That's all by way of prologue because on paper we've got what seems like Ray Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes-redux. The difference is that The Spook Man is less like Cooger & Dark and more like the Grinch in Halloween is Grinch Night! which did a real number on my brother and I when we were kids. The question he's asking is, "How dark are you willing to go?" It's a challenge, and a celebration, of Halloween.

13) "Harming Obsession" by Bev Vincent

Synopsis: Victor suffers from "Harm OCD," a form of obsessive-compulsive disorder centered around intrusive thoughts and fears of harming oneself or others. In Victor's case, he's particularly obsessed about accidentally running over a kid with his car. Bad luck for him then that he's currently behind the wheel on a rainy Halloween night.

How Halloween-y Is It? 6 out of 10 Hershey's Bars: Vincent nails the feeling of a gloomy, raining Halloween night, and the holiday provides an explanation for why there are so many kids running around at night to trigger Victor's OCD.

Thoughts: Autobiographical note here: I have OCD; I got diagnosed back in 2nd grade when my parents noticed stuff like, oh, I don't know, when I had to stop on bike rides to touch each bit of springy asphalt patching up the pavement on the neighborhood streets. And then there was the counting. . .  Anyway, point is, I have it. I am very fortunate that both the obsessions (intrusive thoughts) and the compulsions (compulsive actions) I have are very mild, and don't get in the way of my life much.

This is all preamble to say that while I don't suffer the sort of 'harming obsession' that poor Victor does, I find stories about OCD interesting. There's a great passage early on that makes this clear:

For me, it's more something like an invisible itch--something that nags at you, and if you don't do anything it'll go away, eventually, and no harm done, and besides, you know that you shouldn't scratch the itch. But it's so easy to scratch, and then you don't have to fight it. And then you'll be sure. And then you do it again, and again. . . It's frustrating.

I think Vincent captures that in this story, as well as the frustration that comes from the fact that OCD is ego-dystonic. In other words, what makes OCD more an anxiety disorder than something like a psychosis is that the person who has OCD usually understands (or, once they're taught about their condition, can be made to understand) that there's no 'reality' to the stuff that pops up in your mind, it's all malfunctioning neurochemical receptors.

And, of course, just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get you. . . 

I realize I haven't talked a lot about the story per se here but it's one of the "talking too much gives it away" tales.

On a tangent, there was a fascinating recent article in Harper's about an annual conference for and about OCD that culminates in an evening of guerilla exposure therapy in San Francisco. It gets wild, including one part where people with real life harming obsessions hold out knives while volunteers run past them. Now, there's a story!

Where to Find Them: 

*"He'll Come Knocking," "Miss Mack," "Apples," and "Pranks" all show up in Halloween Horrors, ed. Alan Ryan. I don't think this is currently in print, but there are second-hand copies around. You can also find most of these stories in single-author collections: McCammon's is in Blue World (which is itself a spectacular collection of horror stories), Bloch's is in Midnight Pleasures (which is fun but not essential), and Campbell's shows up in a few of his "greatest hits" collections.  McDowell doesn't have a collection of his short fiction, but The Valancourt Book of Horror Stories Volume One reprinted "Miss Mack."

*The two Bradbury stories should be easy to find: "The October Game" is one of Bradbury's most famous horror stories, and has been reprinted a bunch both in collections of Bradbury's work and in other anthologies. You can probably track it down at your library. "Heavy-Set" isn't quite as ubiquitous, but it crops up a lot--you can find it in I Sing The Body Electric! and some other Bradbury collections, and it's also in the formidable Playboy Book of Horror and the Supernatural and Michele Slung's superb Shudder Again. You can also find it in the Halloween anthology October Dreams (ed. Richard Chizmar & Robert Morrish).

* "The Folding Man" first appeared in Haunted Legends (ed. Ellen Datlow & Nick Mamatas), and got a reprint in Datlow's Best Horror of the Year: Volume Three. It's popped up in various Lansdale collections and anthologies since then, and (here's a free plug, Joe!) it's in the about to be released The Essential Horror of Joe R. Lansdale. 

*"The Cutty-Black Sow" was originally published in the magazine Cemetery Dance and then in The Best of Cemetery Dance Vol. 1. You can also find it in Monteleone's own collection Fearful Symmetries.

*"Gone" was originally published in October Dreams (there's a lot of good stuff in there), and had reprints in Datlow & Windling's Year's Best Fantasy & Horror 14 and Ketchum's own (excellent) collection Closing Time. 

*"The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" is in the public domain and you can read it here. That said, reading "Sleepy Hollow" on a computer screen seems antithetical to the whole vibe of the story--but it's been reprinted a gargantuan number of times, and probably always will be, so your library certainly has a copy of it somewhere.

*"The Boy Who Loved The Twilight Zone" languishes in relative obscurity--the only places I could find that it's been printed in English is the original YA anthology Be Afraid! ed. Edo van Belkom. If you're a German speaker, you could always plump for Der Verruckte Stan ("Madman Stan"), which contains a ton of Laymon's short stories but is, you know, auf Deutsch. 

*"The Spook Man" is probably best found in Toybox--as I mentioned, Al's stuff is best appreciated in context. If you want to go down '90s kiddie horror memory lane, though, you can see if you can find Bruce Coville's Book of Monsters 2. 

*"Harming Obsession" also appeared in Cemetery Dance and in The Best of Cemetery Dance Vol. 2, and some other collection called Octoberland which I've never heard of but am currently ordering for a review later this month.