Showing posts with label Charles Nicholas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Charles Nicholas. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

"Last Sacrifice", "To You ... I Leave My Cat!" and "No Grave Can Hold Him!"

 I'll willing to admit it. The whole inspiration to add to this blog that has set dormant for three whole years was "To You ... I Leave My Cat!".

Are you kidding me! How awesome is a horror story about being bequeathed a cat seems to hate you. Yes, my husband says the worst thing you can inherit is a bird, but is most definitely wrong. Leave it to Doctor Graves to help me win an argument.

Originally printed under the Charlton title in April of 1971, my copy is a 1978 Modern Comics reissue. But don't worry, the stories are just as chilling.

With cover art, as well as the art of the Last Sacrifice and No Grave Can Hold Him, by Pat Boyette, this issue of The Many Ghost of Doctor Graves also features the Charlton go-to-team of Charles Nicholas and Vince Alasic - You might know them from almost every Charlton Romance Comic every published. - for both the teaser page feature and "To You ... I Leave My Cat!". Yes! With a title like that, they would be one ones I'd pick too.























That was totally worth the 25¢ I sent on it Friday.

Monday, April 5, 2010

Unlikely Saviours

Welcome foolish mortals to the first two stories here on Spectergirl's Crypt of Post-Code Horror. To start this blog out right we have chosen two sinister stories with a common theme - Unlikely Saviours.

Apparently, when you can't be scary, surprising seems to be the next best thing.

My story of choice is a little, Charlton head-scratcher called 'A Special Victim' with story credits going to Joe Gill, Penciled by Charles Nicolas and Inked by Wayne Howard.

Enjoy!

















Well, Kiddies, I know I certainly wouldn't have expected Him to come back just to stop some witches. And speaking of the Unexpected, your Uncle Ghosty has brought you something nobody would have expected, "The Vampire of the Apes". Being a mouldering, old, comics host, there isn't much that takes me by surprise, but I have to say I never saw this coming...

Don't come crying to me when you've read it; blame this travesty on writer George Kashdan and Artist J. Jodloman.



















Just like an angry mob, no sense of irony. Tch! Tch!