Published August 1, 2025 by Savage Realms Press Seeking to understand the recent deaths and disappearances in their town, a disgraced hom...
Feature Fiction || Cedar Mills by Dylan James
Published February 13th 2024 by Tor Nightfire T he follow-up to T. Kingfisher’s bestselling gothic novella, What Moves the Dead ...
Review || What Feasts at Night by T. Kingfisher (Sworn Soldier #2)
T. Kingfisher returns to the eerie world of gothic horror with What Feasts at Night, the second novella in her Sworn Soldier series following the acclaimed What Moves the Dead. This novella once again follows Alex Easton, a gender non-binary former soldier with a dry sense of humor, a haunted past, and a knack for running into things that go bump in the night.
This time, Easton heads to their family's old hunting lodge in Gallacia in search of some rest. Naturally, rest is the one thing they don’t get. The lodge is falling apart, the caretaker has died under bizarre circumstances, and the quiet feels wrong. The longer they stay, the more the atmosphere closes in: disturbing dreams, strange local legends, and plenty of superstition. Familiar faces return, including the ever-delightful Miss Potter, a no-nonsense mycologist who continues to steal every scene with her fungal fanaticism. New faces charm as well, like the sharp-eyed Widow Botezatu with her baleful looks and no-nonsense ways.
While What Feasts at Night trades some of the first book’s energy for a slower, more reflective pace, it still delivers plenty of dread. The horror here is quieter, more psychological, and steeped in folklore and PTSD. Kingfisher’s uniquely dry humor is still present, with sharp, witty banter and Easton's internal dialogue. Easton’s internal battle adds emotional depth to the creeping horror, and the camaraderie between characters brings just enough warmth to offset the gloom.
While it’s not as fast-paced as What Moves the Dead, What Feasts at Night is haunting in its own way: moody, thoughtful, and quietly chilling. It’s another strong entry in Kingfisher’s growing collection of uniquely strange horror stories.
Published June 10, 2025 by Rowan Prose Publishing, LLC; Sapphire Imprint To believe in that other world, she must first learn to believ...
Feature Fiction || Straw Girl by Brigid Barry
Published June 10, 2025 by Rowan Prose Publishing, LLC; Sapphire Imprint
Published January 23, 2024 by Page Street Kids L abyrinth meets folk horror in this darkly romantic tale of a girl who wishes her baby broth...
Review || My Throat an Open Grave by Tori Bovalino

My Throat an Open Grave is a exploration of folklore, guilt, and the complexities of good and evil in small-town America. Set in Winston, Pennsylvania, the story follows 17-year-old Leah, who, after wishing her baby brother Owen away, must confront the Lord of the Wood—a mythical figure who has taken children for generations.
Drawing comparisons to Labyrinth might be unfair. Yes, she wished the child away, and has to journey to get him back, but there is no jewelry-crazed Hoggle, tricksy labyrinth, or singing fireys swapping limbs and heads in this story. Nothing as fantastical as the world in which Sarah finds herself. Instead, Leah has to cross the river, find the terrifying Lord of the Wood and trade something of meaning to get her brother back.
Leah's inner voice takes center stage often. She speaks to and about herself with a level of cruelty that’s difficult to stomach at times. Throughout the story, she repeats the idea that she’s broken, bad, or unlovable, and this negative self-talk becomes a major lens through which we see her experiences. Leah's self talk becomes a way to unravel not just who she is, but how others have defined her. It's heavy (and sometimes annoying). Leah's journey isn’t just about confronting the Lord of the Wood—it’s also about confronting the narrative she’s been forced to believe about herself.
Published March 28, 2023 by Tor Nightfire A contemporary Southern Gothic from award-winning master of modern horror, T. Kingfisher. A House...
Review || A House With Good Bones by T. Kingfisher
Published March 28, 2023 by Tor Nightfire
A House with Good Bones by T. Kingfisher is what happens when Southern hospitality meets creeping dread—and then both sit down for a very awkward family dinner. The story follows Sam, a refreshingly snarky archaeologist and bug enthusiast, who returns to her childhood home only to find her usually vibrant mother behaving like a polite, nervous stranger. The usually eccentric house is too clean, too white, the air too still and the garden? Let’s just say it has… opinions. Things go from “Hmm, that’s odd” to “Holy freaking ladybugs” in the best, weirdest way possible.
Kingfisher blends unsettling horror with laugh-out-loud moments in a way only she can. One minute you’re creeped out, the next you’re snorting at Sam’s deadpan commentary. It’s not a scream-fest, but it is eerie and absurd and deeply weird in the way only Kingfisher does. One minute you're reading about ghostly whispers and oppressive vibes, the next you're laughing at Sam's sarcastic inner monologue or her casual conversations about bugs. The horror here is more unsettling than terrifying, but it sticks with you—and there's a wonderfully grotesque twist that really delivers.
The novel spends a lot of time carefully layering tension, hinting at deep-rooted family trauma, strange supernatural forces, and an ominous legacy tied to the grandmother’s influence. But when the horror finally arrives, it feels a bit rushed and underdeveloped. It’s not a bad ending by any means, it’s quirky, bold, and in line with the novel’s tone but compared to the expansiveness of the first two-thirds, it feels like it wrapped up too quickly. Despite that, Kingfisher remains on the must-read list for me.
Published May 2, 2023 by Tor Nightfire From USA Today bestselling author Cassandra Khaw comes The Salt Grows Heavy , a razor-shar...
Review || The Salt Grows Heavy by Cassandra Khaw
Published May 2, 2023 by Tor Nightfire
You may think you know how the fairytale goes: a mermaid comes to shore and weds the prince. But what the fables forget is that mermaids have teeth. And now, her daughters have devoured the kingdom and burned it to ashes.
On the run, the mermaid is joined by a mysterious plague doctor with a darkness of their own. Deep in the eerie, snow-crusted forest, the pair stumble upon a village of ageless children who thirst for blood, and the three 'saints' who control them.
The mermaid and her doctor must embrace the cruelest parts of their true nature if they hope to survive.
Cassandra Khaw’s The Salt Grows Heavy is a grim, lyrical horror-fantasy that begins with the mermaid's children having just eaten her prince. Albeit, he wasn't a very nice one. Khaw takes the familiar mermaid myth and completely capsizes it, crafting a story that’s brutal, surreal, and, beneath all the blood and bone, surprisingly tender. It's a novella that defies clear classification — a hybrid of gothic fairy tale, body horror, and lushly poetic prose.
The story kicks off with the merchildren eating their way through the kingdom. Striking a weird companionship are the murderous mermaid and a plague doctor. She’s a predator, archaic and uncaring, but also deeply introspective. (Of course, she'd have to be since her husband recently cut out her tongue.) The peculiar plague doctor is enigmatic yet witty. The two strike up a friendship and almost coy flirtation.
I've said before that Khaw's writing is not for everyone. It's dense, with each morsel needing to be chewed carefully before being consumed. It’s the kind of language that turns violence into poetry and transforms body horror into something oddly exquisite. It’s brutal and beautiful, grotesque and captivating. For readers who enjoy language that leans into the stylized and surreal, it’s an enjoyable experience. For many others, it may be a barrier to reading any of Khaw's writing.
Published March 25, 2025 by Poisoned Pen Press "I'm in your blood, and you are in mine…" The Netherlands, 1887. Lucy's t...
Review || Blood on Her Tongue by Johanna van Veen
Published March 25, 2025 by Poisoned Pen Press
The Netherlands, 1887. Lucy's twin sister Sarah is unwell. She refuses to eat, mumbles nonsensically, and is increasingly obsessed with a centuries-old corpse recently discovered on her husband's grand estate. The doctor has diagnosed her with temporary insanity caused by a fever of the brain. To protect her twin from a terrible fate in a lunatic asylum, Lucy must unravel the mystery surrounding her sister's condition, but it's clear her twin is hiding something. Then again, Lucy is harboring secrets of her own, too.
Then, the worst happens. Sarah's behavior takes a turn for the strange. She becomes angry… and hungry.
Lucy soon comes to suspect that something is trying to possess her beloved sister. Or is it madness? As Sarah changes before her very eyes, Lucy must reckon with the dark, monstrous truth, or risk losing her forever.
Set in 1887 Netherlands, Blood on Her Tongue follows Lucy as she returns to her family's estate to care for her twin sister, Sarah, who has become ill and dangerously fixated on a bizarre body unearthed in the bog near their home. As Sarah's behavior grows increasingly erratic, Lucy must confront the possibility that something far more sinister than madness is at play.
As is true with gothic fiction, the atmosphere reigns supreme. The author builds a haunting, claustrophobic setting that perfectly complements the story’s tension. The house feels cold and suffocating, the nearby bog is basically a character itself, and there’s this constant dread hanging over everything. Sarah's transformation is both disturbing and magnetic, drawing readers into a world where the line between the natural and the supernatural blurs. Her peculiar behavior and condition are filled with uncertainty and mystery.
Lucy is a great narrator, determined to make sense of her sister's decline. The bond between the twins is the heart of the story, but it’s twisted and uncomfortable in a way that totally works for gothic fiction. It's complicated, painful, and achingly human. You’re never quite sure what’s real or what’s supernatural, which helps the creeping unease. As with a lot of gothic fiction, it’s a slow burn. There’s more moodiness and creeping unease than plot devices, but the payoff is worth it if you hang in there.
If you like your horror quiet, slow, and full of creeping dread, Blood on Her Tongue might be right up your alley. This book is all about mood—foggy landscapes, crumbling family homes, and the kind of tension that feels both tender and terrifying.
Published June 7, 2024 by Wicked House Publishing W hitt Rogers has been dreaming. Horrible dreams. Dreams that stretch the very...
Review || A Dark and Endless Sea by Blaine Daigle
Published June 7, 2024 by Wicked House Publishing
Horrible dreams.
Dreams that stretch the very fabric of the real and the unreal as he is pulled by a voice across the country to a small crab fishing ship set to depart into the Bering Sea. At sea, the memories piece themselves together in cracked fragments. But there is something out there. Something speaking to Whitt in his dreams. A voice from a long-forgotten memory that promises peace at the cost of madness. A voice that leads to a place unimaginable and inescapable
The story centers on Whitt, who has woken with no memory of what came before this moment. He's plagued by nightmares of a flooded town and floating dead bodies. He's directed to a crabbing boat in small-town Alaska. There’s a lot to admire in how Daigle explores the fragility of human connection while in isolation. The emotional realism is the book’s strongest point. There are a lot of dream sequences, compounding Whitt as an unreliable narrator, and leaving the reader with a sense of surrealism.
That said, the pacing is slow—very slow. While some readers may appreciate the quiet build, I found myself wanting more payoff and a clearer sense of stakes. It’s a story that flirts heavily with dread, but the ending just didn't deliver in a satisfying way.
I loved The Broken Places, but this one just wasn't for me.
Published October 15, 2024 by Titan Books A grieving mother and son hope to survive Christmas in a remote mountain cabin, in th...
Review || Cold Snap by Lindy Ryan
I went into Cold Snap expecting a chilling, atmospheric horror story with strong emotional distress — and for the first little bit, that’s what it seemed to be. Set against the icy backdrop of a small Appalachian town, the setup is familiar but effective: people with emotional baggage retreat to a remote cabin in the woods, and weird things begin to happen. To quote Dora the Explorer: "¡Vámonos!"
Unfortunately, what begin as isolation horror deeply embedded with grief (the husband died hanging Christmas lights), the story quickly took a turn into surreal territory, and I found myself more confused than captivated. Her dead husband is talking to her, or is it the moose, and events start to feel disjointed — almost dreamlike, but not in a way that ever fully clicks.
What really pulled me out of the story, though, was the cat death — which is not only graphic and disturbing but referenced multiple times throughout the book. I understand horror can be visceral and I don't shy from gore, but the way this was handled felt excessive and deeply unpleasant. And the only person traumatized by it was the kid! Mom was just like "Darn, the cat got stomped to death in the snow by a maybe-moose". If animal harm is a deal-breaker for you, I strongly recommend skipping this one.
There are interesting ideas here — grief, guilt, isolation — but they get buried under so much weirdness and emotional chaos that they never fully land. Cold Snap might resonate with readers who enjoy abstract, metaphor-heavy horror, but for me, it was more frustrating than frightening. I kept waiting for it all to come together or for the deeper meaning to reveal itself, but by the end, I was wondering WTH just happened.
Having loved Bless Your Heart and Throw Me to The Wolves, I was excited to venture into this one, but it missed its mark with me.
Published June 25, 2024 by Del Rey A chilling horror novel about a haunting told from the perspective of a young girl whose tr...
Review || Incidents Around the House by Josh Malerman
Published June 25, 2024 by Del Rey
Josh Malerman’s Incidents Around the House is a haunting, tightly-wound domestic horror story told entirely through the lens of a child’s eyes. With its eerie tone, it’s a novel that creeps under your skin slowly, but steadily.
The story centers on Bela, an eight-year-old girl who begins seeing an invisible presence she calls “Other Mommy.” At first, it’s easy for her parents to chalk this up to normal childhood fantasy. After all, many children have imaginary friends, until “Other Mommy” becomes more persistent—and more terrifying. Every day, the entity asks Bela the same chilling question: “Can I go inside your heart?” The tension builds from that single line, as we begin to understand that what’s happening to Bela may be far more than imaginary.
What makes this novel so unsettling is its perspective. Malerman’s choice to stick closely to eight-year-old Bela’s point of view gives the book a disorienting quality. It’s a bold narrative style that won’t work for everyone, but for Malerman, it serves the story’s creeping dread incredibly well. I picked this one up in audiobook as well, and let me tell you, Delanie Nicole Gill gives life to Bela in the creepiest way.
This is less of a jump-scare horror novel and more of a slow horrific boil. The horror grows not from gore or violence, but from emotional unease and the erosion of safety in the home. You know it's only a matter of time until it spills over, but you can't look away.
Some readers may find the repetition or ambiguity frustrating—particularly if they prefer clean answers or fast-paced horror—but for those who appreciate character-driven, atmospheric terror, Incidents Around the House delivers. Malerman crafts a tale that is both terrifying and poignant, leaving readers to ponder the true nature of the horrors that lurk within our homes and hearts.
Published July 9, 2024 by Tor Nightfire M isha is a jaded scriptwriter who has been working in Hollywood for years, and has ju...
Review || Bury Your Gays By Chuck Tingle
Chuck Tingle has delivered a horror novel that’s weird and surprisingly heartfelt. Bury Your Gays is a wild ride through Hollywood, queer trauma, and the horror of being told your story isn’t marketable unless it ends in tragedy. This book is part surreal nightmare, part heartfelt unpacking of queer trauma, and part roast of an industry that loves queer suffering as long as it’s profitable. It’s weird, raw, and a little chaotic—but it knows it’s chaotic, which makes it work.
The story follows Misha Byrne, a queer screenwriter finally getting his big break, nominated for an Oscar. But just as things are looking up, the studio demands he kill off his queer characters “for the algorithm.” Misha refuses—and suddenly, reality starts to bend. Literal monsters show up, old traumas resurface, and Hollywood’s shiny surface reveals some very real rot underneath.
Misha is a fully fleshed-out protagonist: vulnerable, angry, exhausted, and desperately clinging to his sense of self while the industry chews him up. Misha’s emotional journey, especially flashbacks to his rough childhood and complicated present, is heavy, honest, and really well done. His relationship with boyfriend Zeke is sweet, offering warmth and grounding that somehow doesn’t come off cheesy (okay, maybe a little cheesy, but we’re rooting for them anyway).
Tingle throws every flavor of horror into the mix as Misha's own scripts come to life—cosmic dread, slasher gore, eldritch horrors, and some wild body horror—and somehow it all holds together. Is it weird? Absolutely. Is it fun? Most definitely. The result is chaotic, but deliberately so. It’s a mess with meaning. Underneath all the madness is some genuinely powerful insights about identity and how queer people are treated by the media machine.
“I call on all of you to usher in a new era of stories where the gay, or bi, or lesbian, or asexual, or pansexual, or trans character lives happily ever after. Buy those stories. Make those stories profitable.”
Published May 14, 2024 by Berkley A single mother working in the gothic mansion of a reclusive horror director stumbles upon te...
Review || The House that Horror Built by Christina Henry

The House That Horror Built follows Harry Adams, a single mom and horror movie fan, who takes a cleaning job at the creepy mansion of the reclusive director Javier Castillo. His home, packed with eerie props and trophies, has an unsettling vibe right from the start. As Harry explores the mansion, filled with reminders of Castillo’s violent film legacy, strange things begin happening—mysterious noises, costumes that seem almost alive, and other unsettling moments.
The mansion itself almost steals the show. Filled with film set props, costumes, and puppets, the mansion is claustrophobic, richly detailed, and dripping with tension. Harry, meanwhile, comes off as vulnerable and also pretty passive. She mostly reacts to what’s happening instead of driving the story forward, which can be a bit frustrating. Plus, she has this habit of spiraling into worst-case scenarios—her son even jokes she imagines “every possible permutation of doom.” You’d think with all that anxiety, she’d be a little more suspicious of the things that are happening.
Christina Henry’s real talent shines in building a spooky mood. The creepy house, the mysterious director, the whispered voices, and ghostly hints—they’re all here. But the tension unfolds way too slowly, and the pacing drags. Even when the story finally picks up, it’s more melancholy than thrilling. The House That Horror Built might appeal to fans who enjoy slow-burning thrillers, but if you’re after chills, jump scares, or fast-paced action, this one’s more like wandering down a dim hallway that never quite leads to a real fright.
Published May 14th 2024 by Berkley A single mother working in the gothic mansion of a reclusive horror director stumbles upon terrifying s...
Feature Fiction || The House That Horror Built by Christina Henry
Published May 14th 2024 by Berkley
March was an amazing month for horror! I started off the month with Cassandra Khaw and Richard Kadrey's The Dead Take The A Train , whic...
This Month in Horror || April 2024
It’s 1999 in Southeast Texas and the Evans women, owners of the only funeral parlor in town, are keeping steady with…normal business. The dead die, you bury them. End of story. That’s how Ducey Evans has done it for the last eighty years, and her progeny―Lenore the experimenter and Grace, Lenore’s soft-hearted daughter, have run Evans Funeral Parlor for the last fifteen years without drama. Ever since That Godawful Mess that left two bodies in the ground and Grace raising her infant daughter Luna, alone.
But when town gossip Mina Jean Murphy’s body is brought in for a regular burial and she rises from the dead instead, it’s clear that the Strigoi―the original vampire―are back. And the Evans women are the ones who need to fight back to protect their town.
As more folks in town turn up dead and Deputy Roger Taylor begins asking way too many questions, Ducey, Lenore, Grace, and now Luna, must take up their blades and figure out who is behind the Strigoi’s return. As the saying goes, what rises up, must go back down. But as unspoken secrets and revelations spill from the past into the present, the Evans family must face that sometimes, the dead aren’t the only things you want to keep buried.
A crackling mystery-horror novel with big-hearted characters and Southern charm with a bite, Bless Your Heart is a gasp-worthy delight from start to finish.
What’s been happening at Cranberry Cove? It’s unspeakable. It’s unspoken.
Emberly Hale is about to take a dark journey inside the derelict hotel—and inside her own past—to find out the horrible truth.
Published October 3, 2023 by Tor Nightfire B estselling authors Cassandra Khaw and Richard Kadrey have teamed up to deliver a dark new stor...
Review || The Dead Take the A Train by Cassandra Khaw and Richard Kadrey
Published October 3, 2023 by Tor Nightfire
Published October 31, 2023 by Tor Nightfire N at Cassidy is at his razor-sharp best again with his horror novel Nestlings, which harnesses ...
Book Review || Nestlings by Nat Cassidy
Published October 31, 2023 by Tor Nightfire
Published September 10, 2021 by Omnium Gatherum The Scream Teens are hired to raise the dead as the necro-tainment for a zombie cruise, and ...
Guest Post || Accurately Portraying Mentally Ill Characters by Nzondi
Published September 10, 2021 by Omnium Gatherum
accurately portraying mentally ill characters
by Nzondi
- Having depression doesn’t mean your character can’t still have fun or laugh or be social.
- A character who has bipolar disorder may have manic episodes or they may not. Bipolar disorder has a spectrum of symptoms from moderate depression to severe.
- No one who has Dissociative Identity Disorder (formerly called split personality) would kill someone when they are in one of their alter personality states unless the core personality would also kill.
- Your character would not have amnesia after killing someone. The disorder is rare, and some medical professionals don’t believe it exists at all, so be careful using it.
- Talking about suicide does not mean your character will push the person into attempting suicide. It was already on their mind.
- Your characters don’t stop hearing voices immediately after taking anti-psychotic medication.
- Sometimes, they won’t stop at all. It may take weeks to months for the meds to work. If they are having a psychotic episode, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to function in their daily lives by going to school, work, maintaining a romantic relationship, or maintaining any relationship. Psychotic patients are not dangerous. Are there exceptions? Yes. But as a general rule, they aren’t.
- In conclusion, one of my biggest takeaways from researching horror writing for Mental Health Awareness Month was some of the things we shouldn’t do.
- For example, unless your character is politically incorrect, don’t describe suicide as an “epidemic”, “skyrocketing,” or other exaggerated terms.
- Use words such as “higher rates” or “rising.” Don’t describe suicide as “without warning” or “inexplicable.”
- Do convey that the character exhibited warning signs.
- Don’t refer to suicide as “unsuccessful” or “failed attempt,” or report it as though it were a crime. Do say, “died by suicide,” “killed him/herself,” and instead of presenting the act like a crime, write about suicide in your story as a public health issue.
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