Most people can’t fathom the idea that their significant other might harbor a dark secret. You live with your spouse, eat with them, sleep beside them, you share your life with them. It seems impossible that they could hide something so big from you. Most people have a secret or two but there are some so dreadful in nature that even entertaining their possibility feels like a cloud of darkness eclipsing an entire household and that’s why when someone such as Ted Bundy emerges, their usually unsuspecting partner gets the brunt of the “how could you not know?” questions. They become a target of blame because they didn’t stop the monster sooner, exactly how a lot of people once viewed Elizabeth Kendall.
Elizabeth Kendall, real name Elizabeth Kloepfer, was Ted Bundy’s longtime girlfriend whom he was dating and practically living with during the bulk of his murders between 1974 to 1978. He murdered young women and then would come home to have dinner with her and her young daughter Molly, putting on that charming façade he was best known for.
Despite the public perception of Kendall being some innocent, naive moron who had no idea her boyfriend was a serial killer, she actually did have a hand in turning him in or at least raising suspicions against him. She reported him to the police hotline at least twice, gave multiple statements back when the police had him prematurely cleared, and actively cooperated with their requests. All while she was still dating him.
No one gives her credit for this though because, in the end, she was still standing beside him in court, choosing to love him rather than brokenly believing the truth. She wasn’t the only one who felt this way. Everyone who knew Bundy was shocked by the accusations. They couldn’t believe someone so intelligent, charming, and “handsome” could do such heinous things. So no, Kendall was not a starry-eyed moron who alone fell for one man’s tricks, but if she has one major personality flaw it’s that she’s incredibly indecisive.
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The Obsession with Bundy
Let me say a few things about Mr. Theodore Bundy. Stop obsessing over the way he looked, and stop being shocked about his charm. He wasn’t the only charming motherf***er with a knife but unlike him, the likes of Ramirez, Manson, Shobhraj, Maeue, and Knowles all had at least one noticeable character flaw that allowed the public to believe in their accusations whether it was being a drug addict with rotten teeth or being a hippie with a cult. There is a persistent obsession with Bundy’s physical appearance and higher education that highlights our ridiculous assumptions when it comes to the Hollywood engrained perception of “good vs evil.” It’s not his crimes most people talk about, but how he didn’t fit the mold. Killers are not masked goons stalking the night, living on the streets, or slum houses with grotesque features and facial scars. They’re also not the embodiments of Satan as the press likes to present them.
Bundy was a psychopath, plain and simple. A psychopath that suffered from an inferiority complex. Two very real traits that when put together happen to make for a bad, angry combination. And if your under the notion that he was like Stu Macher and had no motive for his crimes, I advise you to look more closely at his victims.
Bundy’s targets each represented former girlfriend Diane Edwards, a woman he dated in college who dumped him for being, in her own words, “pitifully weak.” Matching her physical characteristics with softer and more inverted personalities, he murdered women in place of her. In a blunt analysis, Ted Bundy was a pathetic egotistical man who murdered in an attempt to overcompensate for the dominance he lacked on an emotional and intellectual level.
Even if it’s not the basis for the book, all this is shown further in Kendall’s memoir, The Phantom Prince: My Life with Ted Bundy. Although it might not have been her intentions, Kendall’s words smooth some of the edges that was Theodore Bundy. She describes him not as a monster, but as a man, an extremely vulnerable and unpredictable man that wrote annoying love letters and cried in her lap when he found out he was illegitimate. All his fears and doubts are put out on display as Kendall almost twiddles down this hellish beast into something made of flesh and bone, something insignificant. It’s actually a powerful thing because in humanizing Bundy, she’s almost stripped him of his power.
Elizabeth’s Story
The Phantom Prince was originally published in 1981, just one year after Bundy received his third death sentence, and ironically, was the same year Carole Ann Boone gave birth to his first and only child. Knowing he probably read this while on Death Row actually makes me laugh because I’m sure he just loved to hear about how many times he got on his knees and begged Kendall not to break up with him.
There are at least two editions of this book. The 1981 original and the updated edition republished on January 7, 2020. They offer different endings and introductions as the republished edition contains an afterthought Kendall added after gaining different perspectives over the years. The updated edition comes with photos and a special chapter written by Kendall’s daughter Molly who details her own memories of Bundy. The book is largely Kendall defending herself against the public. She describes the love she felt for the killer, as well as the all-consuming guilt she felt once she started to suspect him of the horrible crimes occurring on college campuses. It’s a compelling statement of emotional defense because as much as The Phantom Prince is Kendall explaining herself, it is also a long personal note to herself about coming to terms with what happened.
“It took years of work for me to accept who he was and what he had done. I still felt lingering shame that I had loved Ted Bundy. It was healing for me when women started telling their stories of sexual violence and assault as part of the #MeToo movement. I could relate to keeping experiences secret for fear of being judged.”The Phantom Prince
The book starts a little before the year 1969 when the couple meets and then patiently runs throughout the course of their relationship. Kendall recounts memories she clearly ran over a thousand times in her mind during times of loneliness and confusion, detailing how she met and fell in love with who she thought was a soon-to-be successful lawyer. A man far out of her league. She describes him like a high school jock in a John Hughes movie who magically falls in love with the introverted nerdy girl. A jock that peaked senior year and loses nerdy girl well before she succeeds in post-graduation life.
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This becomes the spine of her story, their back-and-forth turbulent romance that builds towards the breaking of the author. The actual crimes are not covered in depth because everything told in The Phantom Prince are things that Kendall herself was actively involved in. It covers her thoughts and feelings only, so while the murders are largely absent, we learn what she was feeling every time a new girl went missing and we see parts of the investigation that aren’t often shown.
There were a few moments that made me want to throw the book out the window. Points when I wanted to throttle Kendall for the amount of worship she gave a man who, even based on her own personal accounts, never seemed like much of a catch. Everything this guy did screamed, “give me attention!! Tell me I’m smart, I’m the smartest man in the world, right? Say right!” No, Teddy, the answer is no, but love is blind so I guess she disagreed. That line from American Beauty could’ve been his motto: “I don’t think that there’s anything worse than being ordinary.”
Verdict
This book is actually a good companion read to the Netflix documentary series, The Ted Bundy Tapes. I would recommend reading The Phantom Prince after watching the four-episode series as it not only fills in some of the blanks but it also shows the other side of his personal life, a behind-the-scenes look. The book, even though it was written long before the series came out, almost plays off against the information revealed in the series as if Kendall is watching with you, commenting on what’s being shared with the audience.
The Phantom Prince is an interesting side to the Ted Bundy story, one that sheds some light on a figure who has often been brushed aside despite earning her place in true crime history.The book would be enjoyed by anyone interested in Bundy, and anyone else for that matter since it comes off as a sad soap opera with a slow mystery unfolding.
(4 / 5)
Rachel Roth is a writer who lives in South Florida. She has a degree in Writing Studies and a Certificate in Creative Writing, her work has appeared in several literary journals and anthologies.
@WinterGreenRoth
“Lives coil within lives. Dreams coil within dreams.”
First and foremost, I would like to thank Lucretia Grindle for providing me with an ARC of This Work of Darkness. Being immersed in 17th-century Salem Massachusetts was just what I needed to escape the insanity of the holiday season. With a planned publication date of January 16, 2025, This Work of Darkness is Book 2 of Grindle’s Salem duology. For anyone who has not read The Devil’s Glove, Book 1 of this series, please see my review here.
The Plot.
In the opening chapters of This Work of Darkness, we meet back up with Resolve Hammond. Now a young woman of means, living comfortably within the English family home in the heart of Salem, Massachusetts. Her days are filled with the rhythms of life in the bustling town – tending to the English family store and interacting with the townsfolk. However, beneath this veneer of contentment lies a deep-seated guilt. Years ago, Resolve made a solemn promise to Thaddeus and Abigail Hobbs: she would always protect and care for Abigail as a sister. Driven by a conscience burdened by her broken promise, Resolve seeks out Abigail. The stark contrast between her own privileged existence and the abject poverty and despair she witnesses at the Hobbs farm does nothing to alleviate her guilt. Abigail’s deteriorating mental state serves as a painful reminder of Resolve’s failings. As Resolve grapples with her guilt and the haunting memories of her past, a sinister undercurrent begins to stir within Salem. Accusations of spectral visitations and inexplicable afflictions erupt within the community, casting a pall of fear and suspicion over the townsfolk. One by one, the women in Resolve’s life – her friends, her confidantes, the very fabric of her social circle – are swept away by the hysteria, accused of witchcraft, and dragged before the court.
Highlights.
A key highlight of This Work of Darkness lies in Grindle’s masterful weaving of historical figures and events with her compelling fictional characters. This is historical fiction at its finest. The novel is rich with recognizable names and occurrences from the Salem Witch Trials, prompting me to frequently delve into further research, eagerly verifying the historical accuracy of characters I didn’t immediately recognize. To my delight, many of these were indeed real figures, and the book itself served as a fascinating gateway to deeper historical exploration. Grindle deserves significant praise for her poignant portrayal of the human suffering that unfolded during this period. Unlike many novels on the Salem Witch Trials, This Work of Darkness delves deeply into the individual experiences of its characters, meticulously exploring their motivations, relationships, and the profound impact of the hysteria on their lives.
Drawbacks.
This Work of Darkness is a sequel and as such of course must make references to the first work as a way to join the two together. However, I found that Grindle spent a lot of time in the first half of this novel recounting and rehashing the events of The Devil’s Glove. This can feel somewhat repetitive for readers experiencing this book as a sequel, and overwhelming for those approaching the novel as a standalone work.
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As I mentioned in my review of The Devil’s Glove, Grindle is a wordsmith. This has not changed. However, while the phrase “Mother Gossip” (not a character but the gossip trending through the social circles of the story) initially adds a unique flavor to the novel’s language, its frequent recurrence throughout the narrative detracts from the overall reading experience. This repetitive use of the phrase, despite its initial charm, becomes somewhat tedious and disrupts the flow of the otherwise creatively written story.
The Final Take.
This Work of Darkness had me digging through the back of my bookshelf and rediscovering the joy that is Henry Miller’s, The Crucible. While the complete truth of the Salem Witch Trials may forever remain shrouded in mystery, Grindle’s exploration of the social and psychological factors that fueled the accusations was particularly insightful and entertaining.
As with its predecessor, I found myself captivated by the narrative, marking numerous passages and quotes. Perhaps my favorite from the entire series, is found in Chapter 29:
‘Truth, I would remind him, had little to do with anything these days. What mattered was what people chose to believe. That was what turned the jail keys.”
“Skin to skin. Blood to blood. Heart sister to heart sister.”
In Lucretia Grindle’s The Devil’s Glove: Salem Book 1(May 2023), readers are transported to the chilling precipice of the Salem Witch Trials. This meticulously researched novel blends historical accuracy with supernatural elements. Grindle crafts a captivating tale of fear, mistrust, and the enduring power of human connection.
Set in the remote Puritan village of Falmouth, on the eve of the infamous trials, the story unfolds amidst the clash of cultures. A war is brewing between the English settlers and the existing Native American community, fueling suspicion and resentment. Grindle masterfully explores the themes of colonialism, othering, and the enduring human need for connection.
The Plot.
In 1688, on the eve of the Salem Witch Trials, we meet Resolve Hammond. A young woman with the unsettling gift of seeing beyond the veil of reality. When Avis Hobbs dies, Resolve’s mother, a healer with deep ties to the local Native American tribe, suspects foul play.
Despite the growing tension between the villagers and their Native American neighbors, Resolve’s mother remains silent, fearing accusations of witchcraft. But Resolve, privy to unsettling visions, senses a sinister truth. Who would poison Avis, and why does Avis’s daughter, Abigail, seem eerily pleased?
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As the village descends into paranoia and the threat of war with the neighboring native community looms, Resolve must confront her unsettling gift and use it to uncover the truth, even as the men in power manipulate events for their own gain.
Highlights.
Lucretia Grindle is a wordsmith. I rarely find myself stopping to reread sentences and passages just because once was not enough. The prose in this book is unrivaled. Beautiful metaphors and turns of phrase adorn every page. I was so pleased to be reading on Kindle, highlighting line upon line, “murmur piles upon murmur like rotting leaves”, “feel for the flutter of the soul at the neck” and “the kitchen is a cave of shapes” are just a few of my favorites.
The research that Grindle must have completed for this novel must also be noted. This is not only obvious with the inclusion of real people but also in the immersiveness of the setting. Details so small you might miss them are dropped like rain throughout the chapters, each contributing to filling the bucket that is 1688 New England.
Drawbacks.
There are no drawbacks to The Devil’s Glove in so far as the plot, characters, and writing are involved. I did find some repeated metaphors and spelling errors; this however is not a problem with the story or the author but an editing issue that takes nothing away from the story or prose. Not so much a drawback, but perhaps a misrepresentation was that The Devil’s Glove would tell the story of a mother and daughter who are suspected or accused of witchcraft. This is not this book. Although there is deep distrust between the Hammonds and the Puritan townsfolk, there is little in the way of actual accusations until the novel’s end.
The Final Take.
The Devil’s Glove is an exquisitely written novel that was a pleasure to read. It is reminiscent of Outlander with splashings of A Discovery of Witches. I was lucky enough to receive an ARC of the sequel, This Work of Darkness. I will be beginning this as soon as this review is posted. After reading the last lines of The Devil’s Glove there is no way I’m wasting a second to find out what comes next.
Isaac Thorne’s “Tab’s Terrible Third Eye” is a gripping psychological horror that delves deep into the fears and anxieties of childhood, blending supernatural elements with raw emotional trauma. This novel is a masterclass in building tension and exploring the darker corners of a young mind.
At the heart of the story is nine-year-old Tab, an artist whose drawings serve as a coping mechanism for his inner turmoil. Thorne’s portrayal of Tab is nuanced and heartbreakingly real, capturing the vulnerability and resilience of a child grappling with forces beyond his understanding.
The narrative takes a chilling turn when Tab encounters an otherworldly creature, resulting in a mysterious, angry bump on his left temple. This wound, which refuses to heal, becomes the focal point of the horror. Thorne’s description of the bump – burning, itching, and summoning ghosts – is viscerally unsettling, creating a sense of body horror that will make readers squirm.
What sets this novel apart is its exploration of the power and danger of imagination. Tab’s artwork, once a source of comfort, becomes a harbinger of real-life disasters. The foreshadowing of events through his drawings adds a layer of tragic inevitability to the story, ramping up the psychological tension.
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Thorne excels in blurring the lines between reality and supernatural horror. Is Tab’s “third eye” truly causing these calamities, or is it a manifestation of his trauma and guilt? This ambiguity keeps readers on edge, forcing them to question the nature of Tab’s experiences.
The apparent supernatural of Tab’s Third Eye
The introduction of a determined ghost adds another dimension to the story. This spectral presence, seeking to use Tab’s newfound power for its own ends, creates a conflict that goes beyond simple horror tropes. It raises questions about agency, the weight of responsibility on young shoulders, and the battle for control over one’s own mind and body.
Thorne’s prose is sharp and evocative, painting vivid pictures of Tab’s internal and external struggles. The pacing is relentless, with each new revelation or incident building upon the last to create a mounting sense of dread.
While the novel treads familiar ground in terms of childhood trauma in horror literature, Thorne brings a fresh perspective to the genre. His focus on art as both a means of expression and a conduit for horror is particularly effective, resonating with anyone who has used creativity as an emotional outlet.
Verdict
“Tab’s Terrible Third Eye” is more than just a ghost story or a tale of supernatural abilities gone awry. It’s a poignant exploration of childhood fears, the burden of perceived responsibility, and the struggle to control one’s own narrative. Thorne has crafted a story that will haunt readers long after they’ve turned the final page, leaving them to ponder the thin line between imagination and reality, and the power of perception in shaping our world.
This novel is a must-read for fans of psychological horror, especially those who appreciate stories that delve into the complexities of childhood experiences. Thorne proves himself a master of the genre, delivering a tale that is as thought-provoking as it is spine-chilling.
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Don’t just take my word for it-go pre-order your copy now directly from the author (plus you can get cool bunny stickers! Look, Raist, bunnies!)