Category: The Fright Stuff

Heuvelt’s novel was originally published in Dutch in 2019, and was translated by Moshe Gilula for its English debut with Tor Nightfire earlier this year. If you’ve read the synopsis, you know that Echo is about a journalist and mountaineer – Nick Grevers – who survives a tragic encounter with a remote mountain, the Maudit. But in the aftermath of the (supposed) accident that killed his climbing partner and left Nick’s face grievously scarred, he begins to suspect that something far more sinister than a fall may have taken place up there on the face of the mountain. Something he cannot remember. Something that might have come home with him.

If you’ve only read the published synopsis, then you won’t yet know about the other main character in Echo: Sam. Sam is Nick’s boyfriend. He’s also the only one who believes that something dark and more dangerous than grief is haunting Nick. Together they journey back to the valley below the mountain, searching for answers to what happened up there, and for a way to save Nick before the shadow of the Maudit swallows him completely.

I have to laugh, because I don’t think the goal of a book about an evil mountain is to leave its readers with the urge to then go climb a mountain. Logically, you’d probably want to do the opposite. Go away from the mountains. Go down in elevation. But Heuvelt’s lush, lyrical prose renders the many alpine landscapes of Echo in such breathtaking beauty that it’s hard to imagine how you wouldn’t be inspired. Which isn’t surprising when you consider Heuvelt’s own background as an avid mountaineer. And in the contrast between Nick’s love of the mountains and Sam’s fear of them, Heuvelt’s descriptions of the mountains in Echo embody the Gothic sublime, detailing landscapes both awesome and terrible at once:

“I hated the way they closed in on us. The way there were leaning over the plane. Tearing right through the storm, jagged like a predator’s teeth.” (15)

“The Zinalrothorn is a splendid peak, a tremendous monolith that, like the ruins of an ancient castle wall, towers above the surrounding glacial basins […]” (47)

But at its heart, Echo isn’t solely about a cursed mountain. In fact, it’s really not about the Maudit at all. It’s the story of two people – two messy, imperfect people who couldn’t be more different – who love each other. Two people caught up in impossible, cosmic forces beyond their control. It’s a story about grief as much as ghosts. I have always preferred my horror to have an abundance of heart. I want to be as likely to cry as I am to get the creeps when reading, and Heuvelt gave me both.

Echo is one of those horror books that’s so excruciatingly gorgeous that it sticks to your memory like glue long after you turn the last page. I think of this book on a weekly basis, at least, and even though I just had the pleasure of reading it for the first time in January, I can already feel the need for a re-read.

So if you’re looking for something unforgettable to add to your Spring TBR, look no further than Thomas Olde Heuvelt’s Echo. Just make sure you have your hiking books ready. You might want them by the time you’re done.

If you loved the mixed humor and horror of Anderson’s Undead Girl Gang, you will definitely want to add her new novel Scout’s Honor to your TBR. It’s about an organization called the Ladybird Scouts, who masquerade as a proper ladies society when in fact they’re trained monster hunters sworn to protect humanity. Prue is a legacy Scout, descended from a long family history of hunters. Their prey? Mulligrubs, weird interdimensional parasitic monsters who feast on human emotion. Prue walked away from the Scouts when her best friend was killed in a hunt, and she has no intention of returning. But monster slayer is in her blood, and when a heist-esque plan to infiltrate the Ladybirds goes seriously sideways, she finds herself left with only one choice. In order to save her town and everyone she loves, she’ll finally have to confront that past she’s been running from for three long years.

Opps. Here comes Jessica’s obsession with Frankenstein adaptations. I can’t believe this one almost slipped under my radar! The author of positively chilling fiction, Jennifer McMahon, has a new novel that starts in 1978. Renowned psychiatrist Hellen Hildreth splits her life between her acclaimed work with the mentally ill at her treatment center in Vermont and her role as grandmother and caretaker for her grandchildren Vi (Violet) and Eric. When one day Helen brings home a strange, quiet girl named Iris, the three children soon become inseparable. Together they form a Monster Club, cataloging and hunting the monsters that – according to Vi, are all around them. Fast forward 41 years to 2019, and Lizzy Shelley arrives in Vermont to hunt down a monster responsible for the disappearance of a young girl. She’s the host of a monster-hunting podcast, but her personal history with monsters goes far deeper than simple streaming content.

I try not to double up on the same novels two weeks in a row, but it didn’t seem right to leave such a highly anticipated novel off my list of April new releases! The Fervor is set in a Japanese American interment camp in Idaho during WWII, where Meiko Briggs and her daughter Aiko are being held. Though Meiko’s husband is an enlisted pilot, she and her daughter were still forced out of their home and into the camp as potential threats to the American government. But more than human evil is at work in the camp, as a mysterious disease begins spreading among the prisoners and brings with it a team of suspicious doctors who may do more harm than good. And there’s a demon. A creature from Meiko’s childhood, and if she hopes to save her daughter’s life, as well as her own, Meiko will have to join forces with other inhabitants of the camp in a stand against the evil that threatens them all.

Let’s see. I love lighthouses. Check. Remote isolated islands in the north of pretty much any country. Check. Friends groups that are likely to collapse in mess and ugly ways under pressure (i.e. when people start disappearing). Check. Yeah, suffice to say I am really excited about Fran Dorricott’s The Lighthouse. NOW, technicalities: technically, you can already get The Lighthouse as an ebook. It’s been available since it was released in the UK in February. However, if you are a print lover like myself, the paperback will be available here on April 26th. The Lighthouse is about six friends who travel to a remote island in northern Scotland for a reunion in a stunning, abandoned building with a notorious history of mysterious deaths. (Someone needs to fire their travel agent, frankly.) When one of their party disappears, and then suddenly reappears, terrified and full of secrets about the island he won’t – or can’t – share, their trip takes a very abrupt and dangerous downward turn.

Alma Katsu is back with what promises to be another enthralling historical horror novel. The Fervor is set in a Japanese-American internment camp in Idaho during WWII, where Meiko Briggs and her daughter Aiko are being held. Though Meiko’s husband is an enlisted pilot, she and her daughter were still forced out of their home and into the camp as potential threats to the American government. But more than human evil is at work in the camp, as a mysterious disease begins spreading among the prisoners and brings with it a team of suspicious doctors who may do more harm than good. And there’s a demon. A creature from Meiko’s childhood, and if she hopes to save her daughter’s life, as well as her own, Meiko will have to join forces with other inhabitants of the camp in a stand against the evil that threatens them all.

First of all, I am obsessed with that cover. In an Old Hollywood powered by dark magic and fateful bargains, Luli Wei is a young actress desperate to come out on top of the heap. And she won’t be cornered into the sidelined characters and stereotyped parts usually reserved for Chinese American actresses. The price of fame is dear, and it may cost Luli everything, from her identity to the woman she loves. But if she can navigate this treacherous landscape of ancient magics and blood sealed bargains, and avoid the fate of the luckless starlets who came before her, Luli could see her dream’s realized. She could be a star— whatever the cost.

As someone who recently fell madly in love with Bayron’s This Poison Heart, I am so so excited for the sequel to to come out this summer. I mean, that ending! I need resolutions! Delightfully queer and darkly magical, this series is a must read for those who prefer their horror Gothic, overgrown, and full of secrets. Following the dramatic conclusion of the first novel, in This Wicked Fate Briseis is on the hunt for the last piece of the deadly Absyrtus Heart— her only chance at saving her mother. But doing so means relying on blood relatives who are little more than strangers to her, and navigating a whole new world of secret power and hidden enemies. And speaking or beautiful covers, I mean we can just bask for a second in the glow of that gorgeously neon bit of perfection?

As you might expect, I am beyond excited about the new Silvia Moreno-Garcia book. Obviously I was a huge fan of Mexican Gothic, and I’m picking up so many of the same(ish) vibes from the synopsis of The Daughter of Doctor Moreau. Carlota Moreau lives a safe but sheltered life. Her whole world is the isolated confines of her father’s estate. But beneath that idyllic surface lies the reality of her mad/genius father’s work, funded by the unknown whims of his rich patrons, the Lizaldes. When their son, Eduardo Lizaldes, suddenly appears at Moreau’s gates, his presence proves the unknown variable that threatens to upend Carlota’s tranquil life, and bring the only world she’s know crashing down around her.

I love the whole premise of The Book Eaters. The idea that you could magically retain all a books knowledge by eating it just resonates with something deep in my bookworm heart. To the book eaters, books are fine cuisine, and each genre and form has its own unique flavor. But the ability to ingest a book’s knowledge by eating loses its shine somewhat when there are limits on what knowledge you are allowed to obtain. Devon, a member of an old and reclusive clan know as The Family, is not allowed to eat the same tales of adventure and daring do as her brothers. Instead, like other book eater women, she’s only permitted to dine on fairy and cautionary tales, leaving her caught off guard when the real world proves to have sour endings and her son is born not with a hunger for books but with a rare and dark appetite for human minds.

The first of our March releases is a book that I had the opportunity to read back in February, so I can tell you with complete honestly that I loved this weird, creepy, queer Lovecraft-inspired YA horror. Adelle and Connie are best friends and co-super fans of an obscure gothic romance novel called Moira. So much so that, when offered the opportunity to be transported into the novel and experience the world of Moira for themselves, they decide to take the chance. But inside the pages of Moira, things have gone terribly wrong. Instead of a lush Gothic setting, dripping with romance and velvet, the two girls find themselves surrounded by horrors, entangled with the book’s characters in a desperate bid to save the World of Moira and themselves.

I finished The Shadow Glass a few days ago and I’m still riding that sweet sweet emotional high. If you are a fan of 80’s fantasy films (think The Dark Crystal, The Neverending Story, Willow, etc.) you’re going to love The Shadow Glass. Yes it’s probably a bit more fantasy than horror, but it’s dark and delightfully gory. There were times I definitely was like “oooooh that’s not right”, which is always a good sign. It’s a fondly nostalgic riff on a familiar story, exploring the necessity of growing up in a world that isn’t kind to dreamers. It’s about grief, and loss, forgiveness and finding yourself – and I know that sounds a bit heavy but I promise there’s also plenty of killer puppets and humor to keep the story balanced. Jack grew up enraptured by his father Bob Corman’s critical flop turned cult puppet fantasy film: The Shadow Glass. Estranged from his father, it’s only after Bob’s death that Jack, reluctantly, returns to his strange, mouldering childhood home and the memories he buried there. When the creatures that populated his father’s film and Jack’s childhood adventures suddenly come to life and insist that they need Jack’s help in saving their world, he finds himself catapulted into an impossible adventure to save both the fictional world of Iri and the modern world from certain destruction.

Okay, so like The Shadow Glass, The City of Dusk leans more on the dark fantasy side of things than the horror side of things. But you know I can’t say no to creepy bone magic. I’m weak for a hint of necromancy. I see bones, my brain says “horror”. Thrown in some vengeful gods, some body horror, and honestly I’m not going to scrutinize the genre lines too closely. Be forewarned, The City of Dusk is definitely a work of epic fantasy, and there is going to be a lot going on in this first book of the trilogy. Lots of realms (four technically) lots of divinely gifted heirs (also four, actually) and a whole lot of uneasy teamwork trust as they join together to keep their kingdom from being consumed by war. Add into that mess the fact that each heir is also tied to the god of their realm, and attempting to save a world the gods have abandoned is tantamount to apostasy, and it seems unlikely things will end well for our would-be apostates. But the grim portents are half the fun, right?

Survive the Dome is a sci-fi thriller with a healthy dose of dark dystopia thrown in for good measure. It’s about a young, aspiring journalist, Jamal Lawson, who travels to Baltimore to document a protest against police brutality. But before the protest can begin, the city is encased in something that authorities are calling the Dome: a brutal countermeasure meant to suppress civil unrest, basically forcing the entire city into lockdown under police control. As the lockdown drags on, and tensions inside the dome rise, Jamal finds himself making unlikely allies with a secretive hacker and an AWOL military recruit in a bid to bring down the corrupt forces controlling Baltimore and free the city.

It’s never easy to be the new student, but when you’re recovering from a near-death experience that orphaned you just months before, transferring to an ultra-competitive boarding school on an isolated island can make adjusting even more of a challenge. Finch Chamberlin has been through something unspeakable. Unknowable. As in she literally doesn’t know why she’s not dead like her parents, or what the terrible, ancient being was that kept her alive. But ever since waking up, she’s been drawn to Ulalume Academy. There she meets Selena St. Clair, who feels drawn to Finch even though she doesn’t quite trust her. But no matter Selena’s suspicions, when the two girls and their group of friends accidentally raise a horrible monster whose existence threatens not just their lives but the safety of the whole island, Finch and Selena must work together to defeat the creature before it’s too late.

Briseis is a girl with a gift that at times seems more like a curse. Though her ability to take a plant from seed to full flower with a single touch is a boon for her mothers’ florist shop, the way that every plant Briseis passes tries to uproot itself just to get close to her makes it hard to be out in public. And her abilities frighten those close to her, making friends hard to hold on to. So how, when even her mothers seem nervous about her powers, can Briseis ever explain the other part of her gift? The dark and fascinating ability she can’t help but explore: her strange affinity for and immunity to even the most deadly of poisonous plants.

When a woman claiming to be her Aunt dies and Briseis is suddenly willed the woman’s massive estate in rural New York, it seems too good to be true. Not only will it solve the financial problems plaguing her family, the vast fields and woods around the estate will finally give Briseis a chance to stretch her powers. And maybe even find out how she came by her extraordinary gift. But this unexpected gift comes with dangerous strings attached.

I was never able to predict this book, not for one second. Bayron kept me on my toes the whole time and yet I never felt that as a reader I was being thrown twists just for the sake of unpredictability. Every inch of This Poison Heart’s intricate plot is immaculately laid out; all the pieces to the puzzle there just waiting for Briseis (and the reader) to unlock the secret of who she is and where she comes from. Thank the book gods, however, that the sequel comes out later this year, because that ending had me stressed out. If you’re someone who doesn’t like being left hanging, book two, This Wicked Fate, will be out in June, so you might want to wait and read them both at the same time.

Me, I’ll just re-read and cry my same tears.

I loved Bayron’s inclusion of Greek mythology in her world building. I should have expected it, given Briseis first name and the eventual reveal of her biological family’s surname, but it still took me pleasantly by surprise that it became such a large part of the plot. And though it shouldn’t need pointing out, I also want to express my appreciation for how casually queer This Poison Heart was. Briseis’ two mothers – Thandie and Angie – are amazing. Aside from being the epitome of marriage goals, they’re also a prominent part of Briseis’ journey. A journey which includes Briseis falling for the mysterious Marie – who knows more than she admits about Briseis’ biological family and their secrets – without her sexuality itself having to be part of the plot. She likes Marie, and that’s just a fact. Queer people just are, without anyone having to have a coming out character arc. It’s nice, and frankly Briseis has enough to deal with as it is, what with a dangerous group of unknowns determined to use her in their hunt for a fabled elixir of immortality.

Whether you’re a poisonous plant nerd, a fan of Greek mythology, a lover of cozy apothecary horror (the cozy is more early on, before things get seriously creepy), or looking for more queer fantasy horror by Black women to add to your reading list, I cannot recommend This Poison Heart enough. It’s thrilling, funny, heartfelt, dark, and beautiful.

Though history knows her as Anna Darvulia, the Blood Countess’s witch companion, at the beginning of Popović’s book, Anna is just a scullery maid brought on to work in the castle of the glamorous, beautiful Countess Elizabeth Báthory. When Anna catches the Countess’s eye, she finds herself elevated above her station to the role of the Countess’s personal maid and companion. A confidante. Ultimately, her plaything, as Anna soon finds herself drawn deep under the Countess’s influence and isolated from everyone she knows and loves. The prisoner of a murderer. And Anna knows that being Elizabeth’s pet will only spare her life for so long before the Blood Countess eventually turns on her as well.

When I Arrived at the Castle is a brilliant work of Gothic, erotic horror, rendered in Carroll’s favored white, black, and red palette. In this retelling, a young cat-like girl arrives at a dark castle on a story night on a mission to destroy the evil within. Too many girls have come before her, never to be seen again, and the beautiful woman at the castle door hides a monster behind her face. When I Arrived at the Castle is definitely strange and unexpected in the best ways. It’s also queer! In fact, I should point out, that all three of the titles on this list are queer horror.

Caveat: While I was putting this newsletter together, I made the disappointing discovery that apparently When I Arrived at the Castle is out of print. I choose not to take it out of the newsletter because, again, I find Carroll’s work brilliant, and worth the effort to track down. And, thankfully, we have libraries and the glorious power of inter-library loans!

The wait to October is going to be SO long, because I am already dying to get my hands on Alexis Henderson’s new queer, Gothic horror novel, inspired by the Báthory legend. Seeing it as her only means of escaping the city and poverty she was born into, Marion Shaw answers a newspaper listing to be a bloodmaid for a wealthy noble woman in the north. A servant in the infamous House of Hunger, presided over by the seductive and beautiful Countess Lisavet. When Lisavet fixes her eye on Marion, it seems Marion’s fortunes are on the rise, but a string of disappearing bloodmaids throws Marion’s new life into chaos. She finds her self drawn into a dangerous game that may well see Marion numbered among the missing herself.

Compared to the other titles on this list, the cult in This Might Hurt is almost toothless. It takes advantage of emotionally vulnerable people like most cults, but it doesn’t have any higher motivation or purpose. It’s not even particularly dangerous, just manipulative. BUT. What happens when a promising new initiate proves to be a budding fanatic, who believes in the cult’s teachings even more than its founder? And has the ambition to match? What I love about This Might Hurt is that it’s almost like the origin story of a real cult. Though, as far as Natalie Collins knows, Wisewood isn’t a cult. It’s just a self-help facility! Really! The latest attempt by Natalie’s wayward sister Kit to pull her life together. But when a threatening email brings Natalie to Wisewood in search of Kit, it quickly becomes clear that something sinister is going on behind the scenes. Kit is acting strange, and if Natalie wants to save her sister she’ll have to get them both off the island before things get worse.

I’m not saying Academia is a cult but … I’m not not saying that either. I mean that’s (part of) the whole point of Dark Academia, right? Higher education but make it cultish? In Elisabeth Thomas’ fabulous gothic novel, the students of Catherine House go on to become some of the greatest minds in their chosen fields, but at a cost. In return for free tuition, room, board, and the promise of a bright future, accepted students give up their lives to Catherine House for three whole years. No outside contact. No family or friends, no media, no personal clothing. It seems like an easy choice for Ines, who expected to trade in her unhealthy past for a new life of study and potential. But instead she finds a world of secrets, parties, and high strung students competing for dominance. At any cost.

Sometimes a cult isn’t a group of strangers, sometimes it’s your cousin, her asshole husband, her husband’s creepy family, and their weird mushroom mediatrix. Not that Noemí knew what she was getting into when she first arrived at High Place, home of the strange (and extremely suspect) Doyle family, an old English family living in their crumbling family estate in the mountains. You could argue that in order for this to be a cult horror, the Doyle family would have to consist of more than its handful of pale, perishing descendants. But from the moment Noemí sets foot in High Place, she’s subjected to near constant gaslighting, coercion, and biochemical interference until she begins to question her own sanity. And all of it with the intention of forcing her to be “one of” the family.

For those playing along at home, check off a box on your card because that is a cult.

You’ll have to wait until May to get your hands on this forthcoming Nightfire title, but if you’re looking for a creepy cult, you’ll definitely want to add Just Like Mother to your list. Maeve was raised in a matriarchal cult before she escaped and built a new life for herself on the outside, albeit a lonely and isolated one. Which is why, when her cousin Andrea (who Maeve last saw the night of her escape) suddenly reappears, Maeve finds herself clinging to one of the few real attachments she has left in the world. The more time Maeve spends with Andrea, the more she becomes disconnected from her new life in New York and drawn into Andrea’s wealthy, fertility industry-funded world. And why not? Andrea is the only family she has now. But there’s something not quite right about Andrea’s friends and her work, and before long, Maeve has to wonder whether she’s escaped one cult only to be drawn into another.

Echo is the sort of queer horror love story that I desperately need more of in my life. Don’t be dissuaded by the official synopsis, because I don’t think it describes the book particularly well. Yes, Echo is about Nick surviving a terrible mountaineering accident that killed his climbing buddy Augustin and left Nick horribly scarred, haunted by the mountain Maudit that nearly took his life. But Echo isn’t just Nick’s story, it’s also about his boyfriend Sam. The pov passes back and forth between the two of them (Sam’s reality vs Nick’s written account of what happened) and Echo is as much about their pasts and their relationship as it is about trying to break Nick free of the mountain’s hold. It’s honestly so good, so emotional, and beautifully written.

Cold is a YA thriller with a bit of ghost story thrown in, told from the dual perspective of Todd and Georgia, two queer teens and social outcasts who didn’t know each other before Todd’s death brought them together. Sort of. Because all that’s left of Todd is a ghost, hovering over his own murdered body, recounting the events that led to his corpse being abandoned in the snow. And though they were strangers to each other, when she hears about Todd’s death, Georgia feels compelled to find out what happened to him. Cold is kind of heartbreaking, to be honest. On the surface it seems like the set up for a perfect murder mystery, with a bit of paranormal ghostliness thrown in. But at its heart, Cold is more of a character study of Georgia and Todd as they navigate a world that seems to have no place for them and that, for one of them, proved fatal.

Oh my god where do I START with Dead Silence. This book terrified me. I had to put it down at one point because I was reading and there was too much empty space around me. For real, I couldn’t even look at a dark, open doorway. Dead Silence is about an ill-fated attempt by an about-to-be-unemployed ship’s crew, staffing a small vessel tasked with repairing communications beacons. Their last beacon, way at the edge of the system, picks up a distress signal coming from outside the network, somewhere beyond the edge of “civilized” space. A signal that belongs the the Aurora, a luxury space liner that vanished into thin air on its maiden voyage, never to be seen again… Barnes is giving you Titanic but make it scary, she’s giving you Event Horizon, she’s giving you Ghost Ship; for real, this book will make your skin crawl.

You had me at “slow-burn social horror” about race and class. This is definitely going to be one of those books that keeps you in a perpetually paranoid state of not knowing who to trust. Which of course is exactly what you want from a thriller, right? Farrah Turner and Cherish Whitman are best friends, and the only two Black girls at their country club. But while Farrah lives with her biological parents, Cherish lives with her wealthy, white adopted parents who adore and spoil their daughter. When Farrah’s own family encounters sudden financial hardships, she starts a calculated campaign to – for all intents and purposes – take over Cherish’s life. While staying at Cherish’s house, Farrah begins trying to manipulate her way into the Whitman family, only to realize that things beneath that loving, pristine façade are not quite what they seem. As events inside the house begin to escalate and grow ever stranger, Farrah’s legendary control begins to falter, leaving her to wonder if she ever had control of the Whitmans to begin with.

Extasia is the perfect blend of The Year of the Witching with a healthy dose of The Village thrown in for that wonderful “what the hell just happened” feel. I thought I was getting “witchy Sapphic girls band together to save their village from evil” and instead I got “witchy Sapphic girls burn down the patriarchy” and I couldn’t be happier. Our heroine starts out the book without a name, because her birth name doesn’t matter, all that will matter is the name she takes when she becomes one of the saints that protects her village from the evil picking off their men one by one. But when saving her home means crossing the line from sainthood into witchcraft, she quickly finds out that the people she’s determined to protect may not be worth all that she’ll have to sacrifice. Extasia is gorgeous, dark, gloriously queer, and wow did it make me want to rage. It’s not an easy book to read in the world we’re currently living in, but it’s also incredibly cathartic! (Particularly the “burn shit down” part.)