By the time I was growing up, Hammer Horror had settled into a living death of BBC2 repeats. I have always had a love of creativity on a shoestring. Probably fostered by being a Doctor Who geek. 

Hammer, in fact pretty much all British horror cinema of the fifties, sixties and seventies has become another of my adult obsessions. My library of pictures from Hammer, Tigon, Amicus etc. is exhaustive, from lovingly restored DVD releases to pirate copies encoded from late-night cable broadcasts and early VHS. There's just something wonderful about that period of filmmaking, from the smooth Gothic of Hammer's Curse of Frankenstein to the sleazy, sweaty beige of Gary Sherman's Death Line or the wonderful Horror Express from Eugenio Martin (and, yes, the latter's Spanish but it still goes in the pot with all the other Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee greats).

They are quite simply my favourite type of movie.

So imagine how chuffed I was to be able to jump onboard the new Hammer Books line from Arrow and Hammer Films. I am contracted to novelise three classic movies from Hammer's catalogue and the poor editor must have wept when she foolishly asked if I had any preferences. The list was so long the question became moot. The first title was a direct commission, it was just the most enviable good luck that it happened to be one of my favourites, click on the Kronos link to the left for more details.

The second was Hands of the Ripper, reworked to take place in the modern day.

The last, Countess Dracula, is set in thirties Hollywood.