The Smell Of Cedar

The Smell Of Cedar by River Dixon

Sarah’s day was already off to a bad start when the arrival of a strange package from an unknown sender sent her spiraling into a state of paranoia. Memories of a tortured childhood in her grandmother’s care taunt her as she tries to piece together the events of the past few months—the events that have led up to this day. She’s convinced that a killer is coming for her, and it’s become a race against time and madness to figure out who is pulling the strings in this game of hunt or be hunted.

The IndieMuse Review

While I will usually make a joke or two to hide the fact that my reviewing skills are not up to par, I can’t do it with this one.

This vibe of this story reminded me of the movie Bad Day on the Block.

Sarah is losing her mind, or maybe she’s lost it long ago, but the whole world seems to be out to get her, to break her, to harm her, to dominate her…and she’s too strong to let it happen.

She snapped about three months before this story takes place, but I am afraid of giving away too much info, so that is all I can say about that.

On the other hand, we go back to a time when she was still a young and innocent girl. Her grandmother raised her with abuse, both physical and mental, to prepare her for the future.

It is a very grim story which is beautifully written, which raises questions about a lot of nature vs. nurture. Saddest of all is that this story may not be that far fetched, but a brutal reality for some.

Dixon showed great skill with this story, getting the timing and balance right. No jump-scares—some may even say it is not horror, but a horrifying thriller—but plenty of tension as the story moves along.

Recommended for fans of psychological horror, like Chad Lutzke.


Mort Stone lives in untamed Africa, where he rides his lion to work every morning to slave away as a scientist who learned how to fake competency.

Reading is his passion…well, the one he can admit to, anyway. As an aggressive pacifist, he chooses to fight vicariously through stories which can bring him no physical harm.

While he is almost confidant that his IQ is in the top 50%, his wife regularly reminds him of all the stupid things he does. He will neither admit nor deny the accusations of sarcasm, but he can act like he cares. Most of the time.

As an avid reader of horror and thrillers, and somewhat of a movie buff in those genres, he still blames his insomnia on Global Warming. Because he can.

He would also like to apologize in advance for any swear words which might slip through…he will blame that on the insomnia.


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