Calla, 25, has carried her family forever—they’re a “collectively forked tongue, sharp and dangerous”—and their endless needs drag her from the better life she was building. She’s now a fretful, parenting-advice-reading mom to her lovable but wayward younger brother Jamie, 16. Their father is dead; their mean, drunken mother took off; and middle child, Dre, is no help, despite swearing that if Calla became Jamie’s guardian, he’d be there for them. “Redneck Amish Mormons would be better guardians than you,” says Jamie, in one of the book’s many grimly funny moments, and the pinnacle of his unthinking rejection is driving to a Black Lives Matter protest with a group of friends—when he promised Calla he’d stay home—to give the protesters some illicit help. Jamie has been experiencing bizarre moments, such as when his hand dissolves into a girl’s face and he can feel her insides; more of the same happens at the protest, but no excuses can help Jamie with the law when he’s Black and the protest gets violent. Things are simultaneously going monumentally wrong for Dre, who now must also dodge the police; Calla is once again on the hook to save her brothers from themselves. This is where fear and body horror meet hope and love, the siblings’ lengthy battle for one another stretching their emotional and physical limits and revealing their true selves in all their fury and strength. Debut author Viel really brings the horror here, it’s not for the squeamish at all, but those who can brave this epic fight will be rewarded with a story to remember.
Supernatural
Having left behind her life in Baltimore, 20-year-old Ruby Young has settled in a so-so apartment in a so-so Boston neighborhood. The previous tenant who rented her apartment, Cordelia Graves, died just a few months ago, reportedly by suicide. But now another neighbor has died, murdered in an apparent mugging, and Cordelia—she’s become the building’s ghost-in-residence—is determined to keep Ruby safe. But Ruby is one tough cookie herself, with zero fear of the supernatural, and as much as they may be opposites, eventually the two women settle on refrigerator magnets to (sort of) communicate. Hearing each woman’s interior monologue is a hoot, as their relationship as roommates grows and they head out into the world to investigate if Jake was actually murdered…and did Cordelia really die of suicide? Droll, a touch maudlin, and featuring two outstanding characters. Readers are going to be eager for a sequel to this story.
Alering’s striking, dark debut novel mixes magical realism with crime and dire poverty. Sheila, 17, and Angie, 12, are sisters living on the absolute edge in 1980s Appalachia. Their father is dead, their brother in prison, and they and their mother live with an elderly relative, growing vegetables and keeping rabbits for food. Sheila keeps her side of the room neat, Angie very much doesn’t, and the differences only begin there, with the most significant being in their dubious magical gifts: Sheila is burdened and chafed by a rope around her neck, visible only to her, that grows thicker and longer over time. Angie draws sinister tarot-type cards that she carries everywhere, with figures like “A creature made of root and sinew [with] a crooked crown of worms” that give her frighteningly accurate messages. Outside the squalor the girls live in are the hikers, whom they think of as impossibly rich, trekking the nearby Appalachian trail with their fancy equipment and cluelessness. When two of them are killed, Angie takes on the investigation, much to her sister’s exasperation. This is one of those novels whose setting and characters take the front seat—readers won’t soon forget Sheila and Angie and the lengths they go to to survive and find peace.
Subterfuge and supernatural elements infuse this dark, absorbing debut. Our protagonist is Midwestern police detective Anna Koray, who’s had a relatively staid career until she makes the mistake of confronting a violent perpetrator without backup. She kills him, but is shot herself in the process. When recovering, she’s required to undertake counseling; at the same time, she pushes herself into the investigation of a serial killer whose horrifying work resembles that of her father, who years ago was executed for his murder of multiple women as sacrifices to a forest god. Both Anna’s colleagues and the doctor she’s in a burgeoning relationship with have no idea that she spent her childhood in thrall to the Forest Strangler. Anna herself doesn’t even have all the details, which were sealed away in her subconscious by a manipulative therapist whom she now sees for the reverse process, setting in motion an emotional and dangerous roller coaster of unraveling secrets and treacherous confrontations. A cold-case podcaster adds a moral dilemma to the exciting tale—when is it better to leave the truth buried? Readers who enjoy a wilderness thriller, such as Elizabeth Hand’s Hokuloa Road or Paul Doiron’s Dead Man’s Wake, will appreciate this story.
Can a house hold evil? Can it hold memories? Nellie Lester fears the worst when she accepts a nursing job in New Harmony, Michigan, an island town where she spent her early life. But she’s desperate to get out of the flu pandemic that hit her Chicago hospital and everywhere else, in the aftermath of the Great War. Perhaps even more compelling is her need to find out who her father was. The only remnant of the man is a photograph that might show Nellie and her parents years ago in New Harmony. Arriving, the nurse finds that Ravenwood Manor and its owner, William Thiery, hold forbidding reputations in the area—the house is haunted, they say, and William is a frightening man who cares little for his wife and the baby that Nellie is there to deliver. Then a body is found with a fatal head wound, and Nellie doesn’t accept that the death was an accident. She’s not there to be a detective, her boss is quick to point out, but the danger is mounting. Nellie must solve mysteries from the past and in the present to save herself and, she hopes, get out of New Harmony. Supernatural elements —scariest is a death portrait of a child in which the subject seems to progressively rot—add to the domestic drama and historical wrongs, creating a gothic suspense and a feisty protagonist to remember.
Faith Harrington’s mother is dying. It’s no surprise to Faith, who can see others’ deaths when she looks in their eyes, though she can only guess at the timing of the demise. This ability revealed itself when Faith was a child and she saw her brother’s drowning ahead of time, an event that left the members of her family’s circus thinking that the girl, like her grandmother who had even more such powers, was cursed. Since then, Faith’s been pushed to the periphery of her family’s traveling and performances. But when she enters the big tent and accidentally sees a performer collapse, and reassures his daughter that she’s seen his death and it’s when he looks much older, it’s the beginning of chaos and danger surrounding the strange talent. The question of whether fate can be changed will linger with readers after this thoughtful, atmospheric book that features a startling twist at the end. Remember Erin Morgenstern’s The Night Circus? This is for fans of that who are ready for something darker, as well as readers who like to learn about intriguing subcultures.
Liz Rocher hasn’t been to her hometown of Johnstown, PA, in 14 years, but now her childhood best friend is getting married and it’s time. She’s got her bridesmaid dress and one other outfit, just enough to attend the event and then get the hell out. Liz faces s two main problems back home: her strict Haitian mother, who doesn’t hide her disappointment about her daughter’s single lifestyle, and the woods behind the wedding venue, where a little girl vanished years ago. While the wedding is in full swing, history seems to repeat itself, and soon Liz is fighting Johnstown’s racism-tinged apathy as she discovers that many of the area’s Black girls have gone missing over the years, each one vanishing on the summer solstice. Haitian American Adams’s thoughtful language first drops us into the private phobia of a damaged young woman and slowly pulls back to reveal wider horrors: the sudden taking of the girls and the lingering physical and social markers of the infamous Johnstown flood, which largely killed poor Black families in the valley while white residents lived in the hills. Adams’s exciting conclusion finds us in the grip of supernatural terror that makes this debut novel a great recommendation for horror fans who like a side of mystery.
Grady Kendall has lived his whole life in Maine. An out-of-work carpenter—we’re in the third month of the pandemic—28-year-old Grady is living with his mother, with his one sibling in jail and his girlfriend long gone. So when the opportunity comes along to work as a caretaker in Hawaiʻi for billionaire Wes Minton, Grady jumps at the chance. But as beautiful as Hawaiʻi might be, there’s an unsettling undertow. With tourism on hold, more people are without homes, sleeping rough on the beach. Drugs, opiates especially, are everywhere. A shocking number of people are missing, their names memorialized on a wall. And Hokuloa Road, a remote part of the island, is said to be dangerous—for many reasons. When Grady learns that Jessie, a young woman he met on the flight to the island, is among the missing, he makes it his job to find her. Eventually this takes him even deeper into the wilderness, facing fears both man-made and mythological. This is a strong, unsettling narrative that manages to stay centered on Grady while he roams in search of the truth. Clear writing, a brisk pace, and a growing sense of dread make for an excellent work of crime fiction.
A super-smart suspense novel featuring a leading character you’ll never forget. Twenty-something Mallory Quinn is 18 months sober. She was poised to get out of her south Philadelphia neighborhood—with an athletic scholarship from Penn State—when tragedy struck and she spiraled out of control, ending up addicted to opiates. But as the book opens, she’s able to move on from her half-way house, has a terrific sponsor, and is off to the posh suburbs for the summer as the nanny of five-year-old Teddy, son of Ted and Caroline Maxwell. Initially, this is the perfect set-up. Mallory lives in her own tiny house in the backyard and she bonds with the precocious Teddy. All is well until Mallory notices Teddy’s drawings are taking on a sinister tone, with violent images, then greater complexity, well beyond what any child is capable of. Mallory is so well realized, her interior world so compelling, that when she suspects the supernatural is at work, we believe her. Ted and Caroline—an incredibly creepy duo—try to gaslight Mallory, but a neighborhood boy, a love interest, helps to keep her sane. Ultimately, this is a novel of healing, as two very broken individuals—Mallory and Teddy—find ways to move on.
A medical receptionist by day, Shea Collins operates a popular true-crime website that specializes in cold cases. Single, a loner, and herself a victim—she was abducted as a child—Shea reserves her passions for her blog. Until the day that Beth Greer comes to Shea’s office. Back in 1977, Greer was tried and acquitted in the Lady Killer Murders, in which two men were killed, seemingly for the fun of it, by a female serial killer. Since then, the beautiful, sophisticated, and super-rich Beth has spoken to nearly no one—making it all the more remarkable that she agrees to be interviewed by Shea. Beth slowly opens up to the interviewer—inviting her into her super creepy mansion and deeply introspective life—as Shea struggles to put together the fragments Beth shares. This novel is beautifully written and perfectly paced. It creates a powerful sense of place in its depiction of an Oregon coastal community, and doesn’t shy away from tackling larger social issues, such as the sexism Beth experienced throughout her trial. Finally, its use of the paranormal—something I typically shy away from—is as terrifying as it is credible
- 1
- 2