Trilogy

 

The Harvest

 (Book I)

Raw, jagged, and unapologetically vicious. The Harvest is less a novel and more a wound carved into the reader. Bannerman strips away the safety nets of horror ,  no heroes, no clean morality, no escape , and delivers a story where faith is weaponized as violence and belief itself becomes the monster. It shocks, but not cheaply. Every grotesque image is tethered to a bigger truth, which is why it lingers. This isn’t “fun” horror. It’s scar tissue horror.

Return to Sender (The Family of Dog)

 (Book II)

If The Harvest was the blade, Return to Sender is the hand that wields it with precision. The second book slows the chaos just enough to build philosophy into the carnage. Here, blasphemy mutates into scripture, and the reader is forced to consider whether the horror is external , demons, violence, theology gone mad ,  or whether it’s the logical conclusion of systems we already live under. More structured, more thoughtful, but no less brutal, this is the book that proves Bannerman wasn’t just shocking for shock’s sake. He was building a mythos.

Reichmare (The Hessian)

 (Book III)

The most ambitious and the most scarring of the trilogy. Bannerman drags his horror across time, dropping Siobhan into 1920 Poland to guard the child who would one day be Pope John Paul II. Here, Lilith isn’t just a demon she’s a cosmic architect, twisting theology and history into one apocalypse. Reichmare ties the entire series back to its origin in a way that feels inevitable, horrifying, and almost prophetic. It’s not just horror anymore. It’s historical blasphemy on a cosmic scale. The finale closes the loop, leaving the reader gutted and marked, like survivors of a ritual they didn’t agree to join.