The Rutting Season

Central Pennsylvania is a creepy place. I’ve been there and I’m convinced the entire area is full of hobgoblins, trows and other madmen.

With his novel Dark Hollow (first published in 2006 as The Rutting Season), author Brian Keene unleashes a sex-starved satyr into the woods surrounding the small Pennsylvania borough of Shrewsbury. The results, as you’d expect, are both horrible and rape-y. 

Satyrs are horny motherfuckers, says Keene. “Half goat and half man, their primal attributes and wild sex drive embodies the uninhibited forces of nature.” To paraphrase Aleister Crowley: “They rave and they rape and they rip and they rend everlasting, world without end.”

Satyr’s will mate with anything—including all sorts of wild animals, livestock and household pets—but they prefer human women as partners. That’s why the men of Shrewsbury are in a panic. While they sleep at night they know a caprine devil prowls the neighborhood streets tooting his magical shepherd’s flute.  

It’s impossible for the ladies to resist the hypnotizing midnight music. One by one they rise from their beds to join the forest orgy hosted by Hylinus, the legendary horndog with BDE. Says the author: “It was the spring equinox, the season of sex. The rutting season.”

But how does a beast from Greek mythology pop up in Central PA in the first place? Here’s the scoop: Years ago, the Satyr was summoned by a local farmer (and amateur wizard) named Nelson LeHorn. He simply wanted the woodland deity to bless his crops and help breed his livestock. 

Things didn’t go as planned, however. Released from his magical labyrinth, Hylinus ignored the farmer’s wishes and savagely raped his wife and daughters. For the past 20 years, the Satyr has been hiding in the nearby woods stewing in his lustful juices.  

Now, after two decades of unspeakable carnal debauchery, the endgame begins. A group of friends decide to assail LeHorn’s Hollow and kill the creepy goat monster. The odds of them succeeding are slim. Imagine a vigilante militia comprised of King of the Hill stumblebums (specifically Hank, Dale, Bill and Boomhauer) and you get an idea of how hopeless their mission truly is. 

The author doesn’t give anyone a happy ending. The women are distressed, the men are gloomy and the stain of Hylinus remains. “I have tasted the nectar of your women,” he tells the menfolk of Shrewsburg. “They have presented themselves to me and we have rutted beneath the moon. Forever, when they orgasm, my name will be on their lips. This is my curse upon thee.”

[Dark Hollow / By Brian Keene / First Deadite Printing: June 2012 / ISBN: 9781621050308]