Own Voices | Diversity in Horror Fiction

Harvest House by Cynthia Leitich Smith

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Genre: Ghosts/Haunting

Audience: Young Adults

Diversity: Muscogee main character and side character, Biracial Indigenous Latine major character, Bisexual major character, Ojibwe side character

Takes Place in: Kansas

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Bullying, Death, Police Harassment, Racism, Stalking

Blurb

Deftly leading readers to the literary crossroads of contemporary realism and haunting mystery, Cynthia Leitich Smith revisits the world of her American Indian Youth Literature Award winner Hearts Unbroken. Halloween is near, and Hughie Wolfe is volunteering at a new rural attraction: Harvest House. He’s excited to take part in the fun, spooky show—until he learns that an actor playing the vengeful spirit of an “Indian maiden,” a ghost inspired by local legend, will headline. Folklore aside, unusual things have been happening at night at the crossroads near Harvest House. A creepy man is stalking teenage girls and young women, particularly Indigenous women; dogs are fretful and on edge; and wild animals are behaving strangely. While Hughie weighs how and when to speak up about the bigoted legend, he and his friends begin to investigate the crossroads and whether it might be haunted after all. As Moon rises on All Hallow’s Eve, will they be able to protect themselves and their community? Gripping and evocative, Harvest House showcases a versatile storyteller at her spooky, unsettling best.

Being one of the few Native kids in a mostly white high school can be tough. Hughie, a Muscogee teen in a suburban Kansas town is no stranger to anti-Native racism. Last year Hughie, a huge theater nerd, turned down the role of the Tin Man in his school’s production of the Wizard of Oz to protest L. Frank Baum’s anti-Native views (Baum advocated for the genocide of American Indians). But Hughie is excited for their fall semester play, especially since he and his fellow thespian AJ have been pushing the theater/English teacher Mrs. Q to put on a play by “somebody with melanin.” Sadly Hughie’s hopes of landing a lead role are crushed when Ms. Q says a fall production just isn’t in their budget for this year (but of course the school could afford new Jumbotrons for the sports games).

Although Hughie is feeling bummed about the play, things aren’t all bad. His crush, an Ojibwe girl named Marie, likes him back, he has a new best friend in Sam Rodríguez, and Sam has invited him to put his theater skills to work on a haunted house. The haunted house, dubbed Harvest House, is a fundraiser for one of Sam’s mom’s friends, a woman named Ms. Fischer who’s drowning in medical debt. Things finally seem to be going well when Ms. Fischer drops a bombshell. The grand finale of the haunted house will be an “Indian burial ground” and she wants Hughie and Sam to play Indians. YIKES. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, Ms. Fischer found a (non-Native) girl to play the “Indian maiden” who haunts the crossroads. Hughie is understandably horrified, especially since the death of Indigenous women and girls isn’t something to make light of. But now he’s stuck with a dilemma: does he leave after giving Ms. Fischer his word to stay? Does he try and convinced her to change things? Or does he grin and bear it? It’s an uncomfortable position for a kid to be in. Little does Hughie know that there actually is a Native woman haunting the crossroads outside Harvest House, and she takes the news even less well. The Ghost, named Celeste (her name is really all she can remember) tries to protect other women at the Crossroads from the mysterious “Bad Man” who seems to be targeting Native women.

If you’re unfamiliar with the hashtag #MMIWG2S it means Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women, Girls, and Two-Spirit People. Native women have one of the highest rates of homicide in the US. The CDC reports that murder is the third-leading cause of death among Native women. Non-Natives commit about 88% of the violent crimes against Native women on tribal lands, but most of these women never see their assailants brought to justice due to federal laws and jurisdiction issues. Pocahontas, also known as Matoaka, was the one of the first MMIWG2S. She was kidnapped and forced to marry one of her captors, then forcibly converted to Christianity and made to give up her culture. Yet her tragic story has been romanticized, most notably by Disney.

Pocahontas has long been portrayed by colonizers as an “Indian Princess.” She has also been intentionally sexualized. In 2017, controversial singer and songwriter Nicki Minaj posted a highly sexualized image of Disney’s version of Pocahontas (link NSFW) on her Instagram. The costume company Dream Girl used to make a sexualized “Native costume” they dubbed “Pocahottie.” While the costume is thankfully no longer in production, similar costumes are still being sold and worn. In the book #NotYourPrincess, in her essay entitled “We are Not a Costume”, journalist Ka’nhehsí:io Deer (Kanien’kehá:ka) writes about the problems with Indian Princess costumes. “…many of [these costumes] also objectify, victimize, and romanticize Indigenous women and girls as exotic other.” Amnesty International states that “Racist and sexist stereotypes lead perpetrators to believe that they can get away with committing acts of violence against Indigenous women and girls.” In Harvest House, the owner of a restaurant at the crossroads prints a story on his October menus about the Native crossroads ghost where he describes her as a “beautiful, exotic Indian maiden.” In death Celeste is exoticized like Matoaka and turned into a stereotype, a story for colonizers to consume. As Celeste puts it “Our enemies take our land and our lives, and then they take our life stories—what’s left of us when we’re gone—and corrupt them. Is there no limit to their greed or selfishness or lies?”

Racism, like the objectification and sexualization of Native women, hurts Native people, even when it’s not done with malice. I like how Smith makes clear that anyone can say or do racist things, not just cross-burning, hood-wearing racists. Ms. Fischer is being racist. She doesn’t seem like a bad person, but her actions still hurt Hughie. He decides that when he talks to her about it that he “would be forthright in a way that left space for listening,” which is very generous of him. Then again, he wants to make sure Ms. Fischer actually listens. Hughie would be well within his rights to chew her out, but unfortunately people are less likely to listen when you yell at them, even when it’s justified. In Austin Channing Brown’s book, I’m Still Here: Black Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness, she writes the following paragraph:

“I don’t know where this belief comes from, but I do know it has consequences. When you believe niceness disproves the presence of racism, it’s easy to start believing bigotry is rare, and that the label racist should be applied only to mean-spirited, intentional acts of discrimination. The problem with this framework—besides being a gross misunderstanding of how racism operates in systems and structures enabled by nice people—is that it obligates me to be nice in return, rather than truthful. I am expected to come closer to the racists. Be nicer to them. Coddle them.”

Brown’s point is proven correct by the negative Goodreads comments on her book which accuse her of being “too angry” and “too mean” to white people (though I was happy to note most of the reviews were positive). Ms. Fischer is a nice person, and her intentions aren’t bad. She doesn’t hate Native people. But she is racist.

There’s a reason Hughie always mentions his Indigenous heritage early in conversations with potential new friends as a litmus test to see if they’re bigoted or not, and if he should bother investing in a relationship. Marginalized people need to prioritize their safety and mental health over the feelings of bigots and it’s exhausting wasting energy on a relationship with someone who will inevitably hurt you, then demand you teach them what they did wrong. At one point, Ms. Fischer makes a crack about two of the volunteers being queer and Sam feels bad for not saying anything.

But it can be hard to speak up, especially when you’re a member of that marginalized group (Sam is bisexual) and you feel like you’re constantly having to speak up. Hughie points out it’s okay to pick your battles, an important message for marginalized kids. It’s not your job to constantly educate people, especially adults (which is why it’s so important for allies to speak up). Cricket is an example of what good allyship should look like. When Cricket dismissively says that all girls have to worry about creeps during a conversation about the dangers Native women face she immediately catches herself and apologizes. Cricket messes up, but she’s making an effort to learn about colonialism and be better. She works to prove herself as a friend. She’s not perfect but she’s putting in the time and effort, which Hughie appreciates.

Later in the book, Hughie’s Prairie Band Potawatomi classmate, Sophie, gets mad at him for participating in Harvest House and calls him an “Uncle Tomahawk” (the Native version of an Uncle Tom). She was impressed when he boycotted the Wizard of Oz play and is now disappointed he’s apparently giving Harvest House a pass. I like how Smith points out that Natives aren’t going to agree on everything, as they aren’t a monolith, nor do all Natives look the same. When Ms. Fischer comments about finding them “cheap black wigs” so they look like “real Indians” (when Hughie is an actual Native!) she thinks of Natives as people who exist only in the past and looked a certain way, as if all Native people are a homogenous group instead of hundreds of different tribes and Native nations. This is why I loved the diversity of Smith’s characters. Hughie keeps his hair short rather than long. Sam and his sister, Ximena, are biracial Indigenous Latinés. Rain, Hughie’s cousin, is light skinned with light brown hair. And one of Hughie’s friends from another school, Queen, is a Black Seminole girl. I was very happy at Smith’s inclusion of a Black Native, since there can be Anti-Blackness* within the Native community.

I will let readers know now, this horror story is very light on the horror (with the exception of the very real-world horror for Indigenous women, girls, and two-spirit people).Think more spoopy fall vibes than scary. Harvest House is perfect for older tweens and young teens looking for something with Halloween vibes but aren’t huge fans of horror, or are looking to ease into the genre slowly. Basically, it’s a horror story you recommend to people who don’t like horror. So don’t go in expecting Goosebumps or Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. And that’s fine! I review a wide range of horror stories for all different tastes. The book is for young adults, but for me, it seemed to lean younger than most YA books I’ve read (which generally seem to be geared older teens). There’s a little bit of mild swearing, an explanation of how someone was murdered, and a brief mention of sex offenders, but nothing the 12-14 range can’t handle.

I found the book very educational, for both Native and non-Native kids. Anyone who is BIPOC will relate to Hughie’s dilemma of whether to call out racism or not, and white kids can benefit from learning about allyship. Non-Natives will learn about anti-Native stereotypes and allyship, and Native kids can enjoy seeing a variety of different Indigenous people represented on page. Fans of Smith’s other works, like Rain Is Not My Indian Name and Hearts Unbroken will be excited to see Rain (Hughie’s cousin) and Lousie (Hughie’s older sister) again.

I personally enjoyed learning words in Mvskoke like “Hvtvm cehecares” which means “I will see you again” (Smith provides a handy glossary of at the end). I was surprised to discover how incredibly anti-Native and awful L. Frank Baum was, and will definitely never look at the Wizard of Oz the same way again. I liked I like how Smith specifies when a character is white (instead of just making whiteness the default, even in a majority white town), and how strong all the Native women and girls in the book were. But most of all, I loved the message that things won’t always turn out perfectly.

Sometimes, you just have to focus on what you can change and know change can take time. This is also something I learned from my queer, neurodiverse, Black therapist when I was spiraling out over the state of the world, and I think it’s a good message for anyone looking to avoid burnout (because you can’t help anyone in that state).

Hughie isn’t going to singlehandedly solve anti-Native racism or stop violence against Native women, girls, and two-spirit people overnight. But he can take a stand in his largely white community, like he did when he turned down the role of the Tin Man. We see Hughie support local Native artists at the Indian Arts and Crafts Co-Op, show up for his friends when they need emotional support, do volunteer work in the community, and look into the disappearance of a young Native woman, all great ways to create a positive impact.

*Because Kayla Shaggy defends author Rebecca Roanhorse in her article, I thought it only fair to also address why many Native people are upset with the author. Essentially, there are concerns about Roanhorse sharing aspects of Diné culture not meant to be shared. As I am not Native myself, it is not my place to comment on the controversy, but I did think it was important to make readers aware of it.

Tags: American Indian, Book Review, Ghosts/Haunting, Latine/Latino, Muscogee, Ojibwe, Own Voices, Plains Native Nations, Young Adult

They Will Not Save Us by Marie Arnold

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Scholastic Press

Genre: Mystery, Myths and Folklore, Zombie

Audience: Children

Diversity: Haitian characters and author

Takes Place in: Haiti

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Child Endangerment, Death, Forced Captivity, Vomit

Blurb

Lena has always been a troublemaker. Descended from a long line of Mambos, priestesses of the Voodoo religion, she knows a thing or two about creating havoc — and getting out of it. There’s nothing she can’t get herself and her friends out of, even when she causes most of the predicaments they find themselves in. But there are things even she can’t fix. She can’t bring her father back from the dead, can’t make her mother happy again, and can’t forgive the gods for taking her father away.

When a mysterious man arrives in her little Haitian village, taking up residence in the giant house at the outskirts, she’s more curious than anyone. Anything helps to keep her mind away from her father. And the mysterious man’s dinner party is just the thing to keep her mind at ease, and learn more about why he’s on the island.

But then strange things start to happen. People stare at her with their eyes glazed over. They walk as if they’re being controlled — as if they were zombies… And they’re all after her.

As her village descends into chaos, Lena must fight to save what community she has left, solve the mystery of what’s truly happening, and escape the horde of zombies before they catch her. It may take everything, even the gods, to get out of this alive.

They Will Not Save Us returns the zombie genre to its origin in Haiti, and explores the genuine horrors of slavery, loss, and colonization in a bone-chilling way.

I received this product for free in return for providing an honest and unbiased review. I received no other compensation. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.

Everyone has a different theory about why the wealthy white stranger has come to Lena’s small village of Bonne Fin, and Lena can’t wait to find out which one is true. She thinks she has her chance when the entire village is invited to a party at his grand home, but then Lina’s mother bans her from going as punishment for sneaking into Old Man Joe’s garden to steal oranges. To make matters worse, strange things keep happening around her. There’s a chill in the air, and Lina hears whispers on the wind. Old Man Joe’s eyes cloud over and he starts to sing a creepy nursery rhyme. Terrified, Lena tries to tell her two best friends, Jesula and Luke, about the strange occurrences, but they don’t believe her, blaming her active imagination. Things continue to get weirder and seem to be tied to the missing 13^th story Lena’s father was working on before he died. Soon, Lena finds herself fighting an ancient evil for the fate of her home.

I appreciated that Arnold gave us a more authentic look at Haitian Vodou than the images made popular by Hollywood. Vodou is often portrayed as something dark and sinister in modern media, with Voodoo dolls, human sacrifices, and demonic bargains, even though none of those things exist in Vodou. Many of these lies were perpetuated during the first American occupation and made popular by the sensationalized book The Magic Island (1929) by American explorer William Seabrook. Sadly, many Christian organizations and colonizers have pushed to outlaw Vodou practices in Haiti, even though it’s legally recognized as one of Haiti’s two official religions (the other being Catholicism). Some even blamed the 2010 earthquake on Haitians practicing Vodou.

Vodou is actually a diasporic religion derived from the amalgamation of West African religions, Roman Catholicism, and Indigenous Taino beliefs that arose during the Atlantic slave trade. Instead of sacred texts, Vodou follows an oral tradition and is largely experienced through practice. Vodou has one “true” God called Bondye (often equated with the Abrahamic God as most Vodou practitioners are also Catholic) who rules over all. But Vodou also has many spiritual beings called loa (also spelled lwa) who interact directly with humanity. Bondye created the universe but is so busy running it that he is not particularly involved with the everyday matters of humanity. For that, people summon the loa. More well known loa include Papa Legba, Damballah Wedo, Ogun, Erzulie Freda, Baron Samedi, and Manman Brijit. Unlike spirits in many other religions, loa will interact with the tangible world by possessing one of the Vodou practitioners, which is described as riding a chwal (the Haitian Creole word for horse). The loa speaks through the “horse” and will interact with the world around them, dancing, drinking, eating offerings etc. Anyone can serve as a chwal, not just a houngan (Vodou priest) or mambo (Vodou priestess).

In the book, Lena has been training to be a mambo like her mother and grandmother. But Lena has been unable to summon the loa since her father died from a heart attack. She blames the loa for her father’s death, especially Manman Brijit, the mother of the Gede, due to her connection to death. Lena takes great pains to avoid thinking about or speaking about her father. I like how the book explored grief from a child’s perspective and coming to terms with the loss of a loved one. Lena initially deals with her father’s death by trying to ignore anything that reminds her of him. She makes rules for herself like not talking about her father and not crying in front of others, instead suppressing her emotions. The American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry website states that “…long-term denial of the death or avoidance of grief can be emotionally unhealthy and can later lead to more severe problems.” Lena tries to deny her feelings of grief and is unable to overcome her anger at the loa until she learns to accept her father’s death.

In March of 1798, in the French Caribbean colony of Saint-Domingue (what is now Haiti), fourteen enslaved Africans informed authorities that their enslaver, Nicolas Le Jeune, had murdered four of them and was torturing two enslaved women. When magistrates went to Le Jeune’s coffee plantation, they discovered the women, known only as Zabeth and Marie-Rose, with severe burns on their legs. The women died shortly after. When confronted, Le Jeune claimed that the enslaved women had planned to poison him, yet no poison was found among the women’s possessions. When the Governor of Saint-Domingue ordered his arrest, Le Jeune fled. Le Jeune was eventually put on trial, but other white enslavers put pressure on the court to release him, and the case was ultimately dismissed. But in Arnold’s story, Le Jeune successfully escapes and makes a deal with a demon called Tan-tan to get revenge on the enslaved people who reported him.

I really liked the use of Haitian history and culture as plot points and that Arnold didn’t shy away from the darker aspects of the country’s history. It’s presented in an age-appropriate way without minimizing how awful it was or insulting the intelligence of its young readers. None of this “softening the message for kids” nonsense because it might make some white readers “uncomfortable” (looking at you, Ron De Santis). At the same time, Arnold also shows the readers good parts of Lena’s home. With Haiti currently in turmoil and overrun with violent gangs (thanks in no small part to interference from the US), it would be easy to paint the country in a solely negative light, so I appreciate that Arnold didn’t do that. Lena admits life here isn’t perfect; electricity and internet can be spotty, food and water are sometimes scarce, and some of the homes get washed away in hurricane season. But there are cool things too, like hiking on the mountains and swimming in the ocean. Lena’s favorite thing about Haiti is the food, like her favorite beef and pumpkin soup, orange glaze cake, and cherry shaved ice. She loves her home and would never want to live anywhere else.

One of the things Le Jeune uses his magic for is to turn people into zombies. The zombie, or zonbi in French Creole, is a cadaver that has been resurrected by a bokor (a magician who has not been initiated as a mambo or houngan) to work as slaves. It should be noted that Zombies are not part of Vodou. Haitians do not fear zombies themselves, but becoming one. In a New York Times editorial, journalist and writer Amy Wilentz argued that the threat of becoming a zombie would’ve preyed on the fears of enslaved Africans in Saint-Domingue. Instead of passing on to a peaceful afterlife where they’d finally be free, they would instead continue to be enslaved, even in death.

In her book Tell My Horse (1938), anthropologist and author Zora Neale Hurston described her experience seeing a zombie during her time in Haiti. “I had the rare opportunity to see and touch an authentic case… So I know that there are Zombies in Haiti” she writes. Cultural anthropologist and ethnobotanist Wade Davis made the claim that zombies were not the product of magic but of a drug that could slow the metabolism, making the victim appear dead. Whatever the cause, Haitian zombies are quite different than the undead flesh-eaters made popular by Romero’s Night of the Living Dead (1968). Arnold uses the traditional Haitian zombie for her book but adds in a little bit of the Hollywood zombie hoards who go after the children to make the zombies more threatening.

There’s just so much Haitian history and culture in his book! Readers learn about Krik-Krak (a type of traditional Haitian storytelling), Lougawous (a shape-shifting monster), Lwil Maskreti (aka Haitian black castor oil), and Kompa music. The writing is simple and approachable, yet still conveys complex feelings and ideas, making it perfect for young audiences. There’s a lot of time spent fleshing out the setting, which I loved but less patient young readers might get bored with, since there’s not a lot of action until the last third of the book. This is an atmospheric horror story with a mystery that slowly builds the tension.

For those interested in learning more about Vodou, I would recommend Voodoo: Search for the Spirit (1993) written by Haitian sociologist of religion Laënnec Hurbon, Tell My Horse: Voodoo and Life in Haiti and Jamaica (1938) by Zora Neale Hurston, and Nan Domi: An Initiate’s Journey into Haitian Vodou (2013) by Haitian musician and Vodou practitioner Mimerose Bea.

Tags: BIPOC, Black, Book Review, Children, Haitian, Mystery, Myths and Folklore, Own Voices, Recommended, Zombies

This Movie Doesn’t End the Way We Want by Hailey Piper

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Titan Books

Genre: Eldritch Horror, Monster, Mystery,

Audience: Adult

Diversity: Lesbian author and main characters, trans woman author

Takes Place in: Maryland

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Body Shaming, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Death, Kidnapping, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence

Blurb

In November 1994, three girls visit their local movie theater to see an obscure film. Only one of them is ever seen again.

Thirty years later, Val McQueen has never forgotten the day she lost her little sister and best friend, but she’s closed the curtain on it, certain she’s moved on despite her parents’ resentment and hounding by true crime enthusiasts.

That is until a stranger’s murder brings it all screaming back—a terror she’s tried to tell herself is only a movie. Enlisting the help of cinephile and former classmate Roxie de la Fontaine to find the film, Val soon realizes that hers is not the only pursuit. Someone, or something involved with the movie is on the hunt, too…

… For the girl who got away all those years ago.

It’s 1994, and Valerie McQueen loves going to the movies. It’s her favorite way to escape her chaotic home life and her parents’ constant fighting. On this particular evening, she’s accompanied by her little sister, Ashley, and best friend, Colette. Colette wants to see Interview with the Vampire, but Valerie convinces the girls to go see a schlocky B-move she’s never heard of before: Blood-Curse of the Toad Man. At first, they’re the only ones in the theater watching the cheesy monster flick, but soon Valerie notices a stranger seated behind them wearing a trench coat and a fedora that obscures their face. The stranger seems to be moving closer, which freaks Valerie out, and she runs out of the theater. When she finally plucks up the courage to return, Colette and Ashley are gone. The police investigate but the girls are never found.

Thirty years later, Valerie (who now goes by Val) is still struggling with her survivor’s guilt, working as a tattoo artist, and getting into bar fights. Ever since that tragic night, Val hasn’t been able to bring herself to watch another movie. She chooses to self-isolate with no social media presence, only one real friend, and little contact with her parents, who blame her for Ashley’s disappearance. To cope with her unresolved trauma and guilt, Val tries to live in the moment to avoid thinking about the past. Unfortunately, the past has a way of catching up with you, and it appears Blood-Curse isn’t ready to let her go yet. Kate, a true crime podcaster, shows up at Val’s workplace posing as a tattoo client and tries to talk to Val about the worst night of her life.

When Val understandably gets pissed and walks away, Kate reacts poorly, demanding Val speak to her, as she paid for a tattoo. Kate is more interested in the entertainment value of the unsolved crime than she is in protecting Val and her parents from further pain. Kate pops up periodically throughout the book to prove what a shitty person she is, and it feels like her character is Piper’s way of criticizing the true crime genre. A common criticism of the true crime genre is that it’s exploitative, voyeuristic, and can re-traumatize victims and/or their families who are trying to move on, and Kate represents all of these things.

Later, when Val goes to meet a woman from the bar, she discovers the woman’s hotel room destroyed, the woman missing, and two lines from the creepy song from Blood-Curse of the Toad Man written on a scrap of paper. Realizing the only way to make the disappearances stop is to learn more about Blood-Curse of the Toad Man, Val ends up reaching out to Roxie, a girl who was kind to her after Ashley and Colette went missing who now does freelance work hunting down lost media. Despite Val’s warnings to be careful, Roxie is intrigued when she tells her about the cursed film and immediately dives right in to researching it. It’s at this point the book starts alternating between Val and Roxie’s points of view.

I love the idea of a movie that kills you, which is what immediately drew me to Piper’s latest work. Although the film Ringu (1998) and the book by Koji Suzuki it was based upon popularized the idea of a killer film, you could argue that the idea goes all the way back to 1895 when The King in Yellow was published. This short story collection by Robert W. Chambers centers around a cursed play that can drive anyone who reads it mad and would later inspire writer H.P. Lovecraft to write The Whisperer in Darkness. Interestingly, Piper has also published a book entitled A Game in Yellow based on the mythos created by Chambers. Like Lovecraft, Piper also excels in cosmic horror as seen in her books Queen of Teeth (which won a Bram Stoker Awards in 2021), The Worm and His Kings, and the aforementioned A Game in Yellow. In This Movie Doesn’t End the Way We Want, the story starts out as a simple horror story but later morphs into cosmic horror, creating one of the most unique explanations for a “cursed” film I’ve ever seen.

There are lots of 80s and 90s movie references, like Never Ending Story (1984), Ghost Busters (1984), Labyrinth (1986), Moonwalker (1988), Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988), and Devil in a Blue Dress (1995). Even the isekai anime Escaflowne (1996) gets a shout out. There are also references to more modern movies like Sinister (2012), older ones like Chinatown (1974), and even relatively obscure films like Manos: The Hands of Fate (1966), popularized in the nineties by MST3K. This is definitely a book for millennial movies fans. Speaking of which, I loved that both Roxie and Val are in their forties. You don’t see a lot of forty-something women as horror protagonists. While the book plays tribute to these nostalgic films, it simultaneously warns us against dwelling too much on the past.

Val can’t move on properly because she tries to ignore what happened instead of facing it and finding a way to move on. She thinks she’s “letting go” by not thinking about the past, when in realty Val is trapped in it. Similarly, Val’s parents haven’t moved on from that horrible day in 1994 and focus all their attention on mourning the daughter they lost rather than loving the one they have. Roxie is also critical of nostalgia, as much of her job involves hunting down old commercials and TV shows for clients who are willing to spend big bucks on a small reminder of their childhood. Remembering the past does not mean getting stuck in it, unable to move on. It gave me I Saw the TV Glow (2024) vibes, reminding me of the protagonist’s obsession with fictional TV show The Pink Opaque then later discovering that nostalgia had warped his perspective of the show.

I’m a fan of horror mysteries, especially those that involve researching the past, so this book drew me right in. It’s filled with plenty of twists and turns to keep the reader guessing, which I really enjoyed. It also made me happy that both Val and Roxie were lesbians. Val would have brief flings with women thanks to her “only focus on the present” mindset while Roxie is happily married. I liked that the film hides its true nature behind a silly premise, I mean, who is going to take a movie called Blood-Curse of the Toad Man seriously? But the campy film becomes increasingly sinister the more Val and Roxie learn about it. But most of all I liked how the book continued to sit with me long after I finished it. Another great horror story from Piper!

Tags: Adult, Book Review, Eldritch, Lesbian, LGBTQIA, Monster, Mystery, Own Voices, Recommended, Trans

Shadows Over Ravenkirk by Vivian Moira Valentine

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Blue Fortune Enterprises

Genre: Dark Fantasy, Gothic, Mystery, Occult

Audience: Adult

Diversity: Trans, lesbian main character and author

Takes Place in: Maine

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Classicism, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Forced Captivity, Medical Procedures, Physical Abuse, Torture, Transphobia, Verbal/Emotional Abuse

Blurb

Victoria Williams, a struggling photographer from Boston, receives a letter informing her of a surprise inheritance. Wilhelmina Bruttenholm of Ravenkirk, Maine, has recently passed away and left her a bequest. Victoria doesn’t know who Wilhelmina is-to her knowledge, she doesn’t know anyone in Ravenkirk-but she travels to Maine anyway to attend the will reading.

But who is this family and what do they really want of her? Struggling to understand the events happening in this unique little town, Victoria is confronted with secrets, magic, and Samantha, one very sweet tarantula. And while she must face the truth about her own mysterious family history, she will have to do so carefully. Because murder abounds in Ravenkirk and nobody is who they appear to be.

I’m doing something a little different for this review and reviewing the first two books in the Shadows Over Ravenkirk series by Vivian Moira Valentine instead of just one book, as I feel the two novellas work better when read together. The overall story is just so big, with so many elements and characters, that I think the series would have worked better as a couple full length novels rather than a bunch of novellas. Of course, that might also be because I’m not a patient person and I want to read the rest of the story now and I’m already impatient for the third book to come out because the second ended on a cliffhanger.

The first Shadows Over Ravenkirk book gives cozy mystery vibes. I hesitate to use the term “cozy horror” as it’s so controversial, with valid points made on both the pro and con sides. Personally, I feel if someone’s comfort film can be Nightmare on Elm Street or they listen to Tales to Terrify to help them fall asleep, then I don’t see why people can’t also find a horror story about a small gothic town “cozy” without sacrificing the elements that make it horror. But I know plenty of folks hate the term so I’ll refrain from labeling the book as such. What I will say is that Valentine’s books quickly became a comfort read for me at a time I really needed it.

In it, we’re introduced to Victoria Williams, a trans, lesbian, goth girl from Boston (yay Boston!). She’s been summoned to the will reading of the mysterious Wilhelmina Bruttenholm, despite not having known the woman in life. With nothing to lose, Victoria sets off to the small seaside town of Ravenkirk, Maine for the reading. While trying to enjoy her book–Ghost Flower by Jessica Conwell–on the train, Victoria is interrupted by a vulpine young man, the deuteragonist of the story, Nicodemus Ruthven. He’s friendly, and thankfully not transphobic as Victoria initially fears, but he also seems to be unpredictable with a dangerous edge to him that makes her nervous.

He may be a rich asshole but I kind of like Nicodemus. Maybe “like” is too strong a word. I’m more fascinated by him. I enjoy a complex, morally gray character, and I love how snarky Nicodemus is, especially toward his awful family. Speaking of his family, the Ruthvens are Ravenkirk’s old money family who are used to being in control. They’re pretty evil (because rich people are inherently evil) and are not at all happy to see Nicodemus return to Ravenkirk, as he was banished from the town for a yet undisclosed reason. But he has returned for Wilhelmina Bruttenholm’s funeral as an invited guest, much to everyone’s shock and dismay.

Victoria meets some other colorful characters in the town, three of whom she immediately starts crushing on. There’s Tabitha Swann, who used to work for Wilhelmina and gives Victoria a ride to her hotel;Bianca Burke, who was hired by Wilhelmina to act as Victoria’s bodyguard while she’s in town;and finally, Thorn Hale, a non-binary femme who works as the hotel’s cook. Victoria also adopts a tarantula named Samantha. The town seems to be divided into factions, none of whom trust the other, so trying to make friends with the townsfolk is tricky. The book felt a little like a queer dating sim where the reader is left to wonder which hot femme Victoria will pick.

Valentine spends a lot of time introducing characters and developing the town. The world building in this story is AMAZING and very in-depth, and I’m a sucker for good world building. Ravenkirk feels like a town trapped in the past, despite the story being set in the modern day, and it reminded me of the strange New England locations Lovecraft invented, like Miskatonic University and the town of Arkham. Valentine clearly put a lot of thought into the setting and the characters. And there are A LOT of characters in Shadows Over Ravenkirk, especially in the second book. So many, in fact, that it can be confusing trying to keep everyone straight. Fortunately, there’s a list at the beginning of the book with short character descriptions to help keep everyone straight.

There are the Talbots, one of the three major families and the local farmers of Ravenkirk. The Gilmans (fishermen and dockworkers) who give The Shadow over Innsmouth vibes, and from the short preview in the end of the second novella, it seems they’ll be the focus of the third book. And of course, the Ruthvens. Then there are the people who work at the hotel Victoria is staying at, the members of a strange cult called “The Yonders,” and Wilhelmina Bruttenholm’s confidants, none of whom seem to trust each other. The downside to having so many characters in such a short book means that there’s not as much time to develop them. Again, this is why I think the two books work better when read together, as the first novella just feels like we’re getting a bunch of quick character introductions and we don’t really get any action until the last third of the book. It feels more like the first few chapters of a much longer story with the setup but not offering much in the way of a resolution. The book is over before the plot has a chance to get going.

The second book leans more into the story’s horror elements with much more violence (including a torture scene that’s cut short) and some hot sex scenes. Instead of Victoria and her friends, the main focus has switched over to the messed-up Ruthven family, fleshing out already existing characters and introducing new ones. Nicodemus takes up residence in the abandoned Mooncroft Manor, the ancestral home of the Ruthvens, who left because their dwindling fortunes made the upkeep too expensive. Nicodemus invites the various cousins to stay with him to help him with his yet unknown plan to restore the Ruthvens to their former glory. The cousins are all varying degrees of evil; one of them makes snuff films, another creates mind altering drugs, and yet another re-animates corpses to be his “servants.”

The second book was also more focused on setting up overarching plot, giving the reader more questions than answers. But rather than leave me frustrated (okay, maybe just a little frustrated), it just left me desperate to read more! That’s right, this series has me completely hooked and I cannot wait for the third book to come out. I need to know what happens next. I absolutely adored Valentine’s voice. She excels at creating atmosphere and intriguing characters. I feel like this is a series, while not necessarily aimed at teens (especially with the graphic sex scenes in the second book), I would’ve loved as a young adult. In terms of representation, the cast is very diverse, especially when it comes to trans and non-binary characters. I can’t wait to read more!

Tags: Adult, Book Review, Dark Fantasy, Gothic, Highly Recommended, Lesbian, LGBTQIA, Mystery, Occult, Own Voices, Trans

My Monsters Ain’t Like Yours by R.J. Joseph

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Quill & Crow Publishing House

Genre: Eldritch Horror, Folk Horror, Ghosts/Haunting, Historic Horror, Monster, Zombie

Audience: Adult

Diversity: Black, African/American characters and author, queer and bisexual characters

Takes Place in: Texas

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Body Shaming, Cannibalism, Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Childbirth, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Forced Captivity, Incest, Miscarriage, Oppression, Pedophilia, Physical Abuse, Racism, Rape/Sexual Assault, Sexism, Sexual Abuse, Slut-Shaming, Suicide, Torture, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence, Vomit

Blurb

At its core, the horror genre is an effective vehicle for exploring human behavior. From within its terrifying boundaries, and lack thereof, we can examine monstrosity. We can determine how monsters are labeled, analyze the actions of those deemed monstrous, and prophesy the impacts this labeling and actions have on the world around us.

Monsters are personal. Monsters are universal. These facts create an intriguing juxtaposition where the things deemed monstrous or frightening can be shaped by personal experiences, while also representing many aspects of the human condition; our fears are much more similar than dissimilar. This means my monsters are absolutely like yours: they are our collective nightmares.

My Monsters Ain’t Like Yours reflects this irony through Black feminist intersectional horror at its rawest.

While many of the monsters in the collection are supernatural (Suffer the Little Children, The Crazy with Daisy, Higher Education, Something Wicked Came for Me, Welcome, Skinny Minnie, Sweet Sunday Supper Smile, etc.) the most terrifying ones are the human monsters (Regrets Never Die, The Collector, Sweet Sunday Supper Smile, Her Heart’s Desire, No Tricks Only Treats, The Preying Family, Sad, Spooky Sally, etc.). Interestingly, some of the supernatural monsters are friendly and helpful creatures/spirits who protect the protagonists from other monsters, both literal and figurative. Humans, after all, are much worse than some imagined creature. Then there are the metaphorical “monsters” of grief, loneliness, and trauma that haunt the protagonists.

There are a lot of bad heterosexual relationships in the anthology. These range from Where the Horizon Kisses the Sky in which the husband is neglectful, Endless Possibilities where he’s a selfish loser, to Her Heart’s Desire where he’s outright abusive towards his wife. In all these stories the wife yearns for something better and uses supernatural means to get it, with varying degrees of success. In The Badly Terrible, Absolute Worst she doesn’t even get that chance. But queer relationships, like in The Crazy with Daisy and Witness Bearer, are shown in a more positive light. A report by the Institute for Women’s Policy Research and the National Domestic Worker’s Alliance states that “More than 40 percent of Black women experience physical violence by an intimate partner during their lifetimes (41.2 percent), compared with 31.5 percent of all women.” And a study published in the Lancet reported that Black women are also nearly six times as likely to be murdered than white women. Thankfully there are resources like Ujima that support Black women who are in domestic violence situations, even as the justice system continues to fail them.

In Endless Possibilities and Her Heart’s Desire the wife herself becomes a monster to escape her bad marriage, and in the latter, get revenge on her horrible husband. Then there’s Tanita in The Collector, a serial killer who murders for the fun of it. There’s something incredibly satisfying about women embracing their monstrosity and rage, especially Black women. Those with marginalized identities are often cast as monsters in other people’s stories so why not reclaim the title? I especially like that feminine monstrosity in Endless Possibilities and Her Heart’s Desire is not tied to sexuality. While I appreciate women like Tanita reclaiming their sexuality and using it to seduce and murder men à la Jennifer’s Body (2009) and The Hunger (1983) sometimes it feels like the majority of female monsters are temptresses ( leading men to their death. And it can start to get a little old.

Can’t they just be horrible and violent without wanting to have sex with their victim? Plus, there’s the unfortunate implication that women who have sex on their own terms are evil and they go against the natural order of things by overpowering men. So, I appreciated that Joseph gave us some nice variety. The book even has monstrous children (#GIRLMOM and Suffer the Little Children) though in both cases the children are embraced by the main character rather than shunned for the monstrosity.

Sweet Sunday Supper Smile and No Tricks Only Treats are stories containing child abuse, though the abusers get their comeuppance in both. Then there’s Sad, Spooky Sally which is especially disturbing, so much so that it comes with its own set of content warnings before the chapter, rather than in the index. It’s an absolutely heart-breaking story with a bittersweet ending and one of my favorites in the collection. But it’s also very triggering, so make sure you check out those content warnings before reading it. The same goes for Regrets Never Die and Witness Bearer. They’re both very dark, with the latter being about a girl who can see the worst things a person has ever done. She witnesses some truly awful memories, so I appreciate that Joseph included content warnings for all the stories in the book’s index.

Those who Teach Pay Knowledge Forward stood out in the collection, as it was sweet rather than scary, A ghost story where the ghosts aren’t the source of fear. It also had a nice message about helping to educate the next generation so they can succeed. I love how so many of the Black women in the collection are intelligent and well educated, ranging from college students (The Collector) and graduate students (Whole New World), to teachers (Those Who Teach Pay Knowledge Forward) and college professors (Grand Opening, Higher Education, Something Wicked Came for Me). The young woman in Important Things is sent on an all expenses paid trip to Palm Springs for a symposium because she excels in her high school classes. In 1995 14% of Black women between 25 to 34 held a bachelor’s degree compared to 38% in 2024 according to the Pew Research Center.

There are so many great stories in the collection, I’d be pressed to pick a favorite, though I did especially enjoy Regrets Never Die, #GIRLMOM, Endless Possibilities, Those Who Teach Pay Knowledge Forward, and Something Wicked Came for Me. While Black women and children’s trauma is a reoccurring theme of My Monsters Ain’t Like Yours, it’s not the only focus of the anthology. If every story were about Black trauma and abuse, it honestly may have been too much for me. Instead, Joseph includes a bunch of fun, spooky stories to offset the heavier stuff so the collection never feels too dark and depressing. Instead, we get a nice balance.

I really liked this because while horror is a great way to process trauma, Black horror shouldn’t be pigeonholed into stories of Black pain. I love Get Out (2017), it’s one of my favorite films, but if that was the only kind of Black horror story told by Hollywood, it would start to feel like the suffering of Black people was being fetishized for entertainment. There’s a reason why Peele’s next two films, Us (2019) and Nope (2022) aren’t rooted in Black trauma. So, while there are plenty of stories about abuse, bad relationships, and the general mistreatment of Black women and children, there are also enough tales about living mannequins, small fanged creatures, and ghosts to offer the reader a breather.

Tags: Adult, African American, Anthology, BIPOC, Bisexual, Black, Book Review, Eldritch, Folk Horror, Ghosts/Haunting, Historic Horror, LGBTQIA, Monster, Own Voices, Queer, Recommended, Zombies

Deadbeat by Maxim Volk

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Slashic Horror Press

Genre: Comedy Horror, Zombie

Audience: Adult

Diversity: Gay man author and main character

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Alcohol Abuse, Body Shaming, Cannibalism, Child Death, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Gore, Homophobia, Mental Illness, Necrophilia, Pedophilia, Physical Abuse, Police Harassment, Slurs, Vomit

Blurb

Ji-won’s life tumbles into disarray in the wake of her Appa’s extramarital affair and subsequent departure. Her mother, distraught. Her younger sister, hurt and confused. Her college freshman grades, failing. Her dreams, horrifying… yet enticing.

In them, Ji-won walks through bloody rooms full of eyes. Succulent blue eyes. Salivatingly blue eyes. Eyes the same shape and shade as George’s, who is Umma’s obnoxious new boyfriend. George has already overstayed his welcome in her family’s claustrophobic apartment. He brags about his puffed-up consulting job, ogles Asian waitresses while dining out, and acts condescending toward Ji-won and her sister as if he deserves all of Umma’s fawning adoration. No, George doesn’t deserve anything from her family. Ji-won will make sure of that.

For no matter how many victims accumulate around her campus or how many people she must deceive and manipulate, Ji-won’s hunger and her rage deserve to be sated.

A brilliantly inventive, subversive novel about a young woman unraveling, Monika Kim’s The Eyes Are the Best Part is a story of a family falling apart and trying to find their way back to each other, marking a bold new voice in horror that will leave readers mesmerized and craving more.

Your husband Matt expects you to remain monogamous despite constantly going on business trips. Worse, he doesn’t even like video sex because he’s worried someone will hack your phone, though you tell him that it’s a ridiculous paranoia. He won’t even let allow you a quickie before his trip because he’s worried about “smelling like sex” on the plane. You’re feeling pissed off, neglected, and sexually frustrated. You’ve cheated on him before while he’s away on trips, but you assume he’s also cheating on you while he’s away. So now you have a decision to make. Blow off some steam with a casual hook up or be a faithful husband and stay home. You end up dead either way,though how you meet your untimely end varies depending on your choice, ranging from carbon monoxide poisoning to getting murdered in a snuff film. You think it’s all over until you wake up in a basement surrounded by robed figures saying they’ve resurrected you. And you’re hungry. So very hungry. Now all you have to worry about is your insatiable appetite for human flesh, your decaying body, and avoiding Zombie Hunter Rome Samuel.

Deadbeat is a “choose your own adventure” style erotic horror novella. You can run into bigfoot, try to be the Dexter Morgan of zombies/a zombie superhero, eat some cops (because ACAB), or get revenge on a councilman who didn’t approve your backyard pool even after trading sexual favors. My favorite storyline was, in a twist right out of Thirty Rock’s Reunion episode, when the reader discovers that your high school “bully” (whose name you can’t even remember) was actually a good guy who just didn’t put up with your asshole behavior. And you character is an asshole. This may be a turn off for some readers, but personally, I love problematic queer characters. I also loved how we get a reference to “that social media app that has become overrun with Nazis” (Twitter) and digs at AI being used in porn (AI sucks and people who use it are losers). That doesn’t mean this story can’t get dark, though. One of the storylines involves a trafficking ring that kidnaps children, and they aren’t rescued if you don’t make the right decisions.

Deadbeat also addresses something I’ve always wondered about in zombie stories. Stomach acid and bile are no longer produced after death, so how do the undead digest things? Apparently, they can’t because you throw up everything after devouring someone, leaving you hungry again. I thought it was clever how Volk considered some of the science behind the living dead. For example, when you awaken, you find all your blood has been replaced with embalming fluid.

For erotic horror, the sex scenes are super short. I guess that makes sense for a novella, but it means it’s hard to get in the mood, so all the sex and dicks just feel kind of distracting rather than sexy. Of course, I’m also not a gay man, so not really the target audience. Over all it’s a very silly little book, which may take some people out of the story, but I personally thought Deadbeat was tons of fun.

Tags: Adult, Book Review, Gay, Horror Comedy, LGBTQIA, Own Voices, Recommended, Zombies

Eat Your Heart Out N.J. Gallegos

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Black Hare Press

Genre: Comedy Horror, Romance,

Audience: Adult

Diversity: Lesbian main character and author

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Alcohol Abuse, Cannibalism, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Gore, Homophobia, Medical Procedures, Violence

Blurb

Jules is a first-year medical student with an exceptional mind for anatomy, a devotion to precision, and a carefully controlled emotional life. That control shatters when she meets Maureen.

Maureen is magnetic—confident, beautiful, effortlessly desired. What begins as attraction quickly deepens into something sharper, darker, and far more consuming. Jules mistakes intensity for intimacy, chemistry for destiny, and fixation for love.

As their relationship lurches between passion and distance, Jules begins to unravel. The boundaries between study and obsession blur. Anatomy labs bleed into fantasy. Hunger—emotional, erotic, psychological—becomes impossible to ignore. Every slight feels catastrophic. Every touch feels like a promise. Every rejection fuels something dangerous.

Set within the sterile world of medical training, Eat Your Heart Out explores the seductive logic of obsession and the quiet horror of a mind convincing itself that devotion justifies anything. Desire becomes possession. Love becomes entitlement. Control slips, slowly and then all at once.

Dark, intimate, and deeply unsettling, this psychological horror novella traces the path from longing to fixation—and the terrifying places desire can lead when nothing is ever enough.

Oh man, N.J. Gallegos had me at “toxic lesbians” and “cannibalism.” Add in a medical setting and a kickass playlist, and I was sold. Cannibalism is hinted at throughout the story: Our protagonist, a queer medical student named Jules, constantly compares parts of her cadavers to food (to the point it makes her hungry), uses kuru as a random example of a neurodegenerative disease, and named her cat Jeff after serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer (aka the Milwaukee Cannibal). So you know that at some point someone is getting eaten, you just don’t know how or when.

Jules is an introverted horror nerd who is studying to be a surgeon. She loves medicine, her cat, and her classmate Maureen (who Jules calls Mo). Sadly, Mo doesn’t seem to even realize Jules exists. But after Jules’ best friend, a neurology nerd named Chris, gives her molly at a Halloween party (which Jules attends dressed as Patrick Bateman), she finally has the courage to approach her crush. The two women end up having a drunken hookup and spend a cozy weekend in Jules’ apartment having mind blowing sex. Jules falls hard and fast. Her obsession with Mo (which Jules mistakes for being in love) only gets worse, to the point she’s already planning the rest of their lives together. Now she just has to convince Mo, who doesn’t even want to be exclusive, that she feels the same way about Jules.

Jules’ obsession and possessiveness is disturbing, but also kind of sad, especially since Mo is not that great. For one thing, she pours ketchup on an expensive steak that Jules spent a lot of time making for her. If I did that, no jury in the world would convict my wife after she inevitably chopped me up and fed me to the cats. Mo strings Jules along, fully aware that she has fallen hard and wants to be exclusive. And while Mo is honest about just wanting to be casual and seeing other people, she also gives Jules just enough hope to keep her from breaking it off. You can’t help but feel bad for Jules, even as you cringe at her creepy, obsessive behavior.

I really loved Gallegos’s prose. The story is narrated by Jules, and the writing can range from flowery (“Professor Adams’ weaselly face twitched with frank pleasure, luxuriating in his droll pontifications”) to blunt (“she made love to me then completely shit on my feelings”) underlining Jules’ flair for the dramatic and her wildly changing moods. One moment she’s a poetic romantic, the next angry and immature. Jules only gets more unhinged as the story progresses, stalking Mo, sending her cryptic texts with song lyrics (how very 2000s emo teen of her) at all hours of the day, and harassing Mo’s other lover, Tyler, the dumb jock ortho. The humor sprinkled throughout Eat Your Heart Out blends well with the horror without feeling out of place, and the pace of the story kept me invested (despite my ADHD) without feeling rushed.

Tags: Adult, Bisexual, Book Review, Highly Recommended, Horror Comedy, Lesbian, LGBTQIA, Own Voices, Romance

Moonflow by Bitter Karella

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Run for It

Genre: Blood & Guts (Gorn), Eco Horror, Eldritch Horror, Myth and Folklore

Audience: Adult

Diversity: Trans main character and author, queer/lesbian major characters

Takes Place in: California

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Abuse, Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Childbirth, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Gore, Incest, Medical Torture/Abuse, Mental Illness, Physical Abuse, Police Harassment, Racism, Rape/Sexual Assault, Sexism, Sexual Abuse, Slurs, Slut-Shaming, Transphobia, Violence, Vomit

Blurb

I see something out there, in the woods. It does not have a face. They call it the King’s Breakfast. One bite and you can understand the full scope of the universe; one bite and you can commune with forgotten gods beyond human comprehension. And it only grows deep in the Pamogo forest, where the trees crowd so tight that the forest floor is pitch black day and night, where rumors of strange cults and disappearing hikers abound. Sarah makes her living growing mushrooms. When a bad harvest leaves her in a desperate fix, the lure of the King’s Breakfast has her journeying into those vast uncharted woods. Her only guide is the most annoying man in the world, and he’s convinced there’s no danger. But as they descend deeper, they realize they’re not alone. Something is luring them into the heart of the forest, and they must answer its call.

Wow, this book… just wow.

How do I even begin to describe this fucked up, queer, psychedelic, gross, erotic, satirical, disturbing, fungal horror story that I sped through because I couldn’t put it down? Every free minute I had was dedicated to reading Moonflow. And I have ADHD; I can never focus on one thing for long unless I’m super interested. But I hyper-fixated on Karella’s weird ass masterpiece of a novel. As a splatterpunk story, the writing is intentionally over the top and there’s a ton of weird, gross stuff going on. There’s lots of violence and fucking and it’s crude and funny as hell, but also deeply tragic. I personally loved it, but I know splatterpunk is not everyone’s cup of tea and some readers are going to be off put by the sex and violence. I love how trans the book is; eggs, muffing, dead names, TERFs, and chasers are all mentioned. The main character, Sarah, reminded me a lot of myself. She’s fat, trans, and a science nerd who could use a boost of self-confidence and went on three dates with her girlfriend before realizing they were dates. She also really loves her cat, Herman, and most of her desire to earn more money is so she can afford nice things for him, like the wet food he likes.

Sarah was forced to drop out of college due to depression and dysphoria, but at least she can still put the mycology skills she learned there to good use. Sarah grows psychedelic mushrooms for Madeline, a hot trans woman who delas drugs at house parties and is always surrounded by admirers. Madeline invites Sarah to another one of her sordid house parties where Sarah offers her a batch of freshly grown Fire Imps (all the mushrooms in the book are fictional). Unfortunately, Madeline isn’t interested, claiming they’re “last season” and “gauche.” She tells Sarah about a mushroom called The King’s Breakfast that she wants instead. Despite lacking the blue coloration that indicates a high concentration of psilocybin, the King’s Breakfast is strong and (even better) it’s impossible to have a bad trip on it. Even Sarah, who hates getting high around other people, enjoys her experience with the King’s Breakfast, hallucinating a beautiful nature goddess. Madeline asks Sarah to go into the Pamogo forest to collect some spores to grow. Desperate for money, Sarah agrees. Madeline has “a very old and dear and trusted friend” who will act as her guide in theforest.

It turns out the “trusted friend” is Andy, and Sarah immediately pegs him as a doofus. He’s the kind of guy who describes himself as “an ally,” despite it being a term others bestow upon you and not something you can claim. He complains about her selling mushrooms–a free natural resource– because of Capitalism, while ignoring the fact that Sarah is in desperate need of money and how, as a trans college dropout, she can’t just “get a job.” Despite his objections, Andy still guides Sarah through the Pamago forest, using the dead bodies of hikers lost in the forest as morbid trail markers (as everything else in the forest seems to move). Andy always has some sort of logical explanation for the weird things that happen in the Pamogo. Compasses don’t work because of electromagnetic storms. Raccoon bones end up in piles because the trees create a wind tunnel. The mushrooms move as if alive due to acidity in the soil.

Meanwhile, in a town near the Pamogo forest, two women named Skillet and the Hell Slut are watching an innocent looking girl enter the only bar in town. The Hell Slut correctly guesses that she’s a runaway escaping her pimp and saves her from a frat boy harasser outside the bar. After the Hell Slut kicks the guy’s ass, Skillet convinces the girl to go with them to meet their leader “Mother Moonflow.” If you think that sounds like the name of a cult leader, you’d be 100% correct.

Skillet and the Hell Slut belong to a lesbian separatist cult nested in the heart of the Pamogo forest, living off the land. They worship the Green Lady, a nature goddess who resides in Pamogo forest. She was formerly the consort of the Lord of the Forest, a male fertility and nature God with antlers, who she now protects her followers from (or so Mother Moonflow says). Both deities are reminiscent of the Wiccan Mother Goddess and the Horned God. The followers of the Green Lady seem to have similar (though less extreme) beliefs as women who practice Dianic Wicca. The founder of Dianic Wicca, Zsuzsanna Budapest, is also a huge TERF who, despite claiming to be a radical feminist, reduces women to their reproductive organs. Mother Moonflow is similarly obsessed with genitals, she and her group call anyone with a penis a phallic Alec. There are also vaginas painted on everything.

I liked the book’s criticism of a certain type of radical feminism, the kind practiced by TERFs like Z. Budapest. By claiming men (and anyone else with a penis because they reduce gender to genitals) are inherently violent, it means they don’t think men can change this part of their nature. This is an issue because it lets men off the hook for their actions.They can’t help raping/abusing/murdering because they’re men. It’s the same sexist attitude as “boys will be boys,” a sort of twisted, reverse victim blaming. These are also the kind of people who will brush aside sexual assault and violence committed by women. Even though Andy is an idiot, he is right about one thing. Trying to get rid of either the masculine or feminine throws off the balance of nature. Mushrooms are a perfect example of this, as most are hermaphroditic. In other words they contain both “male” and “female” sexual traits, capable of both fertilizing and being fertilized (some mushrooms also have thousands of different sexes).

There’s a lot of focus on Sarah and the Hell Slut being fat and their large bodies are frequently described, more so than the non-fat bodies of other characters, with the exception of Mother Moonflow’s comically large tits. Skillet is clearly a chubby chaser, she loves fondling the Hell Slut’s tummy folds and asks Sarah how much she weighs. She does get called out on it, thank God, but it still felt like Skillet gets away with being very gross. I’m guessing all the focus on Sarah and the Hell Slut’s bodies is because fat people are so often uncomfortable with their bodies (and make other people uncomfortable) from living in a fatphobic society. I loved that two of the main characters were fat women, but as a fatty myself, I felt like all the focus on their bodies was too much, and it admittedly made me uncomfortable.

Each chapter begins with either a quote from Lazarus Sloane’s diary (a man who tried and failed to build a sawmill in the Pamago forest) or Sarah’s mushroom guidebook for the Pamago by a man named T. F. Greengarb. Each gets increasingly unhinged as the story progresses. Sloane is clearly losing his grip on reality as more and more of his workmen start to disappear. Greengarb’s mushroom descriptions also start getting really weird. Early on, he writes about mushrooms like the Candy Cap, said to taste like maple syrup, but later in the book he describes the oily black Fox Candle that tastes like “children’s fear.” I thought this was a nice, creepy touch.

This was a weird read, which usually I’m not a fan of. In this case, I felt it worked well.

Tags: Adult, Blood & Guts, Book Review, Eco Horror, Eldritch, Highly Recommended, Lesbian, LGBTQIA, Myths and Folklore, Own Voices, Queer, Trans

Greedy by Callie Kazumi

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Bantam

Genre: Psychological Horror

Audience: Adult

Diversity: Multiracial (hafu) Japanese-British author and major character, Japanese minor characters

Takes Place in: Japan

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Alcohol Abuse, Animal Death, Body Shaming, Bullying, Cannibalism, Child Death, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Eating Disorder, Suicide, Violence, Vomit

Blurb

They will kill me soon, Edward Cook thinks. And when the Yakuza are unable to collect what he owes, Ed realizes, theyʼll go after his wife and child next. Broke, desperate, and unemployed, he stumbles upon an unusual ad: Chef wanted! Private chef for a high-profile businesswoman. One million yen per day.

Ed accepts the job. He hasnʼt earned any Michelin stars, but he knows his way around a kitchen. Leaving his life in Tokyo behind, he departs for an opulent estate in the mountains owned by the enigmatic and reclusive Hazeline Yamamoto, a disgraced socialite with a predatorʼs smile and an exacting palate. Hazelineʼs world is one of taste, connoisseurship, and experimentation—she is a certified gourmand. But when you can afford filet mignon for every meal, you begin to seek out the strange and forbidden.

The closer Ed gets to Hazeline and the brighter future that she promises—if he remains loyal—the nearer he is to realizing the chilling truth about her altruism. In this shadow world of unimaginable wealth, there are worse monsters than two-bit gangsters. The wind blowing through Hazeline’s home carries the sound of screaming, and Ed finds himself feeding all kinds of beasts.

Perfect for fans of Parasite and The Menu—enticing as a starter, meaty as a main dish, and full of satisfying just-desserts—Greedy is a suspenseful poison-pen note to classism and an ode to Japanese cuisine, a horror-tinged thriller unsuitable for vegetarians but full of shocking delights for every reader.

Food-centric horror always makes me hungry, and this one had me craving meat. There’s a reason the cover warns it’s not safe for vegetarians.

Ed is a British ex-pat living in Japan with his Japanese wife, Sayuri, and their young daughter, Kaori. After traveling to Japan and falling head over heels for Sayuri, he lands a sales job at an English-speaking company. Unfortunately, COVID hits the company hard, and Ed gets laid off. Instead of job hunting, he starts spending the day at pachinko parlors and soon becomes addicted to the rush of gambling. Now Ed has wasted their savings, developed a significant gambling debt, and gotten involved with the yakuza, all of which he hides from his wife. He knows Sayuri will never forgive him if she finds out, but his lack of a job and the financial strain on their family is already causing marital tension. Desperate for money, Ed finally spots a job ad in the newspaper which may be the answer to his prayers. A high-profile businesswoman needs a discreet personal chef and is willing to pay one million yen a day (around $6,345 USD) to the right person. While not officially trained in the culinary arts, Ed spent time working as a sous chef at a few terrible restaurant chains in England and his wife has taught him to cook Japanese dishes, so he figures he can bullshit his way through an interview.

I liked how Ed is a flawed yet sympathetic character. His addiction was presented not as a moral failing (that would be Ed’s decision to lie to his wife), but as an illness. Most forms of gambling are illegal in Japan, but gambling addiction is still a huge problem, especially after COVID-19 when more people turned to overseas online gambling. Currently, it’s estimated that there are about 1.97 million people in Japan who actively use online casinos. Some even take yami baito or “dark part-time jobs” to pay for their gambling debt. These jobs, often advertised online, promise lots of quick cash for seemingly easy tasks, but don’t mention they require illegal activities. You would think that Ed would be concerned that this too good to be true job as a personal chef might actually be a yami baito, but as we quickly learn, Ed tends to ignore clear warning signs.

*trigger warning for discussions of body size and eating disorders*

It turns out the high-profile business woman is none other than Hazeline Yamamoto, a wealthy recluse and the widow of billionaire Botan Yamamoto. Ed is surprised by how Western Hazeline is, rejecting both restraint and conformity, things typically valued in Japanese society. She tells Ed about being growing up hāfu in Japan, a term used to describe people who have one Japanese parent and one non-Japanese parent. Like the author, who is the daughter of a Japanese mother born and raised in Brazil and a Scottish and Columbian father, both Hazeline Yamamoto and Ed’s daughter have one Japanese parent and one non-Japanese parent. In Hazeline’s case her mother was a British model and her father a Japanese businessman. On top of the struggles of being mixed race in a homogenous society, Hazeline was also bigger than her Japanese classmates. She was bullied for being “chubby” and not fitting into Japanese clothing, despite not being overweight by western standards.

In Japan, less than 40% of adults are considered overweight, and Japan has one of the lowest obesity rates in the world, most likely due to walkable cities and the traditional Japanese diet being so healthy. The average size for a Japanese woman is 1.58 m (5’2”) and 55.3 kg (122 lbs) according to World Data, while women in the UK are on average 1.64 m (5’4”) and 73.6 kg (162 lbs).

On the flip side, over 10% of Japanese women are underweight, and for women in their twenties, one in five are underweight. Hazeline felt so pressured to be thin that, in order to fit in, she became anorexic. There’s unfortunately a lot of stigma surrounding eating disorders in Japan and a lack of support for those who have them.

But after her husband died, Hazeline realized she was sick and tired of being hungry all the time and living as a hermit meant there was no one to care about Hazeline’s body. She tells Ed that the only joy she had left is from the food she consumes. “What use is dying skinny and hungry? When I join Lucifer, I shall be plump and happy, and I can’t bring myself to give a damn what anyone thinks about it.” And that’s where Ed comes in.

*end trigger warning*

Hazeline wants Ed to prepare her exquisite, inventive meals. As Hazeline puts it “I don’t eat to survive, I eat to savor. It should always be worth it, every mouthful a justification for my body.” She especially loves meat and tells Ed “…a meal without meat is merely a side dish.” When Ed serves her duck with plum jam as part of his interview, Hazeline very proudly tells him how she killed and gutted it herself. Kazumi touches on the Burakumin during her story, a historically “outcaste” or “untouchable” social class, occupying the lowest level of the feudal Japanese social hierarchy.

The Burakumin are those descended from people employed in occupations considered taboo by orthodox Shintō and Buddhism beliefs about not killing living things or touching the dead. So, undertakers, executioners, leatherworkers, and, of course, butchers. Discrimination against those who work as butchers continues in Japan to this day. So, it’s weird that Hazeline has a philosophy that it’s good practice to kill your meals yourself. As the final step of his interview Ed must slaughter a chicken for food.

I didn’t like that the Japanese words were italicized. When non-English words are italicized, I feel it labels them as “exotic” and other. Editor Natalia Iwanek goes into detail about why italicizing non-English words is problematic here. I suspect, however, that this was the editor’s decision rather than the author’s. There is a glossary in the back of the book of Japanese words used in the book, which is helpful as Kazumi doesn’t have to interrupt the flow of the story to explain the words to an English-speaking audience who may not be familiar with what an izakaya is or what majide means.

It’s pretty evident what the “big reveal” of the book is early on, and most readers will quickly figure out what Ed is trying so hard to deny. Somehow, that makes it even more suspenseful because you KNOW what’s going to happen, but that doesn’t stop you from praying it won’t. It’s horrible, like watching a car crash in slow motion. You’re screaming at Ed to figure it out and get out of there, but he keeps dismissing the very apparent red flags. Even though there wasn’t any obvious horror until the end of the book, and not much on-page violence, my anxiety levels were through the roof, dreading what was coming. Greedy is a book that I absolutely devoured (pun intended).

Tags: Adult, Asian, Asian British, BIPOC, Book Review, Japanese, Own Voices, Psychological Horror, Recommended

The Valley of Vengeful Ghosts by Kim Fu

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Tin House

Genre: Gothic, Psychological Horror

Audience: Adult

Diversity: Chinese American author and main character

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Death, Child Abuse, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Illness, Incest, Kidnapping, Medical Torture/Abuse, Medical Procedures, Miscarriage, Necrophilia, Oppression, Mental Illness, Physical Abuse, Rape/Sexual Assault, Suicide

Blurb

In the aftermath of her mother’s death, Eleanor is unmoored. For years, her mother orchestrated every detail of her life—from meals, to laundry, to finances—as Eleanor focused on her career as an online therapist. Left to navigate the world on her own, Eleanor clings to her mother’s final directive: use her inheritance to buy a house.

Desperate to obey her mother one last time, Eleanor impulsively buys a model home in a valley-turned-construction site, a picturesque development steeped in a shadowy history. It feels like a fresh start, until the rain comes—an endless, torrential downpour. As water seeps in through the house’s cracks, the line between what is real and what is not begins to blur. Haunted by the stories of her clients, a stream of workmen and bureaucrats she can’t trust, and visions of ghosts from her past and present, Eleanor’s reality unravels, and she is forced to reckon with the secrets she’s buried and the choices she’s made.

The Valley of Vengeful Ghosts is a horror story about every millennial’s worst nightmare: being expected to navigate the world of adulthood without any guidance or support, and buying a home.

Eleanor Fan is a therapist whose mother, Lele, has recently passed away from cancer. Her dying wish was for her daughter to buy a house. Like many millennials, owning her own home seemed like an impossibility for Eleanor until her frugal mother passed and left her enough for a modest house. But even with her inheritance, Eleanor is struggling to find somewhere livable. Her first realtor, Mary, only shows her crappy, one bedroom condos, and Eleanor is outbid each time she applies. Her new realtor, Matt, drives her through a dying town, into the forest and shows her a model home in a newly developed area. The developer went bankrupt after building the model homes, and the new developer is waiting for the summer to continue building. Eleanor loves the house, though is unsure about buying.Matt encourages her to jump on the opportunity as soon as possible, which means waiving the inspection (huge red flag). What seems like a dream come true turns into a nightmare when the house quickly becomes unlivable.

I’m lucky enough to be married to a super competent gen Xer who knows how to repair most anything, otherwise I probably wouldn’t have bothered with home ownership, even if I lived in an alternate universe where I could have afforded one on my own. I don’t know how to fix a cracked pipe, install a dishwasher, or build a bookshelf that wasn’t purchased from Ikea (all things my wife has done easily). I’ve never even mowed a lawn or cleaned gutters! And forget taking care of it, just trying to purchase a home can be a confusing nightmare. There’s the whole process of applying for a mortgage, finding the right real estate agent, putting in a bid on the house, hiring a home inspector, figuring out internet service and all that crap. It’s overwhelming! No wonder Eleanor has no idea what she’s doing.

The house she buys was cheaply and quickly made to look good, not actually serve as a home. And even if it was? Some of the design choices were made with form over function in mind, like the giant floor to ceiling windows with no blinds or curtains. Not only do the windows lack insulation, there’s zero privacy (thank God Eleanor lives in the middle of nowhere), and there will be a ton of light during the day, whether she wants it or not. Unfortunately, Eleanor didn’t consider any of these things before buying the house, and when she does finally notice the above issues and tries to solve them with curtains, she learns that curtains are really freaking expensive. And that’s just the start of the problems. With a seemingly endless rain pouring down on her new home comes numerous leaks that start as a trickle under the windows but quickly start damaging the home. The rain gets in the front door lock and jams it, forcing Eleanor to call a sketchy locksmith who charges her $600 and then makes vague threats about what will happen if she doesn’t pay.

There are a lot of creepy men in The Valley of Vengeful Ghosts. Eleanor’s grad school mentor raped her. her work colleague, Teddy, lusts after her even though Eleanor sees him as a father figure (his wife even assumes they slept together). Her real estate agent, Matt, clearly conned her. One of Elanor’s new patients, Jared, is a raging misogynist who refers to women as “females” and wants to use Eleanor to practice talking to women yet constantly speaks down to her and ignores her. Eleanor just doesn’t seem to have good luck with men. There is her ex, who by all accounts seems like a decent guy, but he wants nothing to do with her because of her weird attachment to her mother.

Millennials like Eleanor have had it rough. We reached adulthood during the Great Recession of 2008, and many of us were forced to move back in with our Boomer parents (assuming that was even an option). Even those of us with college degrees, something we were told by adults we had to get if we wanted to a good paying job, weren’t having any luck. The jobs we’d been prepared for weren’t hiring people without experience, and retail and food service jobs didn’t want someone they considered “overqualified.” Meanwhile, we had a ton of student debt we couldn’t pay off, wages were stagnant, and the cost of living was soaring. That means we were forced to put off typical adult milestones like marriage, having kids, and yes, buying a house. With schools getting rid of shop and home economics courses many of us also weren’t taught how to fix a car, sew a button, or a cook a meal (thanks Ronald Regan).

Eleanor’s mom completely failed in preparing her daughter for the real world. After Eleanor is raped by her grad school mentor she drops out of her PhD program and regresses emotionally (something Teddy points out is common after trauma) and her mother comes to take care of her. She handles Eleanor’s money and keeps the books for her practice as dealing with money bores and frightens Eleanor (all her bank accounts are joint accounts with her mother). Lele cleans Eleanor’s apartment, takes out her trash, buys her groceries, cooks her meals, and does her laundry for her. Eleanor is so coddled that her mother even feeds her apple slices like a baby bird while she’s working and clips her toenails. The irony is not lost on me that Eleanor works as a therapist, helping other people with their lives, when she can’t even get her own shit together and would definitely benefit from some therapy herself.

Isolation is a recurring theme throughout the story. Eleanor is physically isolated in the valley where she lives and where the rain never seems to end, but also emotionally isolated from others after the passing of her mother. She has no romantic partner, no real friends, and only a distant aunt for family. She doesn’t even see her patients in person anymore, instead opting to focus solely on telehealth. The story is strongly implied to take place right after COVID, when everyone was feeling the despair that comes from isolation. But it seems Eleanor never really connected to people after the pandemic.

I should point out that, despite the title, this is not a haunted house story. The “ghosts” are people that Eleanor knows (or knew) that appear in her mind and talk to her, more hallucination than specter. But while there are no literal ghosts, Fu still instills tension with modern fears like home ownership, isolation, climate change, and losing one’s parents. It feels like a gothic novel, except the house isn’t old and decaying but new and decaying, while the never-ending rain, which is slowly eroding the surrounding landscape, creates an oppressive atmosphere. There isn’t really a plot so much as a series of events that unfolds in Eleanor’s life as we watch her mental state fall apart along with her home, but it still grabbed my attention and never felt like the story dragged.

Tags: Adult, Asian, Asian Canadian, BIPOC, Book Review, Gothic, Hong Konger, Own Voices, Psychological Horror, Recommended

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Harvest House by Cynthia Leitich Smith

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Candlewick Press

Genre: Ghosts/Haunting

Audience: Young Adults

Diversity: Muscogee main character and side character, Biracial Indigenous Latine major character, Bisexual major character, Ojibwe side character

Takes Place in: Kansas

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Bullying, Death, Police Harassment, Racism, Stalking

Blurb

Tags: American Indian, Book Review, Ghosts/Haunting, Latine/Latino, Muscogee, Ojibwe, Own Voices, Plains Native Nations, Young Adult

They Will Not Save Us by Marie Arnold

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Scholastic Press

Genre: Mystery, Myths and Folklore, Zombie

Audience: Children

Diversity: Haitian characters and author

Takes Place in: Haiti

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Child Endangerment, Death, Forced Captivity, Vomit

Blurb

But then strange things start to happen. People stare at her with their eyes glazed over. They walk as if they’re being controlled — as if they were zombies… And they’re all after her.

They Will Not Save Us returns the zombie genre to its origin in Haiti, and explores the genuine horrors of slavery, loss, and colonization in a bone-chilling way.

Tags: BIPOC, Black, Book Review, Children, Haitian, Mystery, Myths and Folklore, Own Voices, Recommended, Zombies

This Movie Doesn’t End the Way We Want by Hailey Piper

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Titan Books

Genre: Eldritch Horror, Monster, Mystery,

Audience: Adult

Diversity: Lesbian author and main characters, trans woman author

Takes Place in: Maryland

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Body Shaming, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Death, Kidnapping, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence

Blurb

In November 1994, three girls visit their local movie theater to see an obscure film. Only one of them is ever seen again.

… For the girl who got away all those years ago.

Tags: Adult, Book Review, Eldritch, Lesbian, LGBTQIA, Monster, Mystery, Own Voices, Recommended, Trans

Shadows Over Ravenkirk by Vivian Moira Valentine

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Blue Fortune Enterprises

Genre: Dark Fantasy, Gothic, Mystery, Occult

Audience: Adult

Diversity: Trans, lesbian main character and author

Takes Place in: Maine

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Classicism, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Forced Captivity, Medical Procedures, Physical Abuse, Torture, Transphobia, Verbal/Emotional Abuse

Blurb

Tags: Adult, Book Review, Dark Fantasy, Gothic, Highly Recommended, Lesbian, LGBTQIA, Mystery, Occult, Own Voices, Trans

My Monsters Ain’t Like Yours by R.J. Joseph

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Quill & Crow Publishing House

Genre: Eldritch Horror, Folk Horror, Ghosts/Haunting, Historic Horror, Monster, Zombie

Audience: Adult

Diversity: Black, African/American characters and author, queer and bisexual characters

Takes Place in: Texas

Blurb

My Monsters Ain’t Like Yours reflects this irony through Black feminist intersectional horror at its rawest.

Tags: Adult, African American, Anthology, BIPOC, Bisexual, Black, Book Review, Eldritch, Folk Horror, Ghosts/Haunting, Historic Horror, LGBTQIA, Monster, Own Voices, Queer, Recommended, Zombies

Deadbeat by Maxim Volk

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Slashic Horror Press

Genre: Comedy Horror, Zombie

Audience: Adult

Diversity: Gay man author and main character

Blurb

For no matter how many victims accumulate around her campus or how many people she must deceive and manipulate, Ji-won’s hunger and her rage deserve to be sated.

Tags: Adult, Book Review, Gay, Horror Comedy, LGBTQIA, Own Voices, Recommended, Zombies

Eat Your Heart Out N.J. Gallegos

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Black Hare Press

Genre: Comedy Horror, Romance,

Audience: Adult

Diversity: Lesbian main character and author

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Alcohol Abuse, Cannibalism, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Gore, Homophobia, Medical Procedures, Violence

Blurb

Jules is a first-year medical student with an exceptional mind for anatomy, a devotion to precision, and a carefully controlled emotional life. That control shatters when she meets Maureen.

Dark, intimate, and deeply unsettling, this psychological horror novella traces the path from longing to fixation—and the terrifying places desire can lead when nothing is ever enough.

Tags: Adult, Bisexual, Book Review, Highly Recommended, Horror Comedy, Lesbian, LGBTQIA, Own Voices, Romance

Moonflow by Bitter Karella

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Run for It

Genre: Blood & Guts (Gorn), Eco Horror, Eldritch Horror, Myth and Folklore

Audience: Adult

Diversity: Trans main character and author, queer/lesbian major characters

Takes Place in: California

Blurb

Wow, this book… just wow.

This was a weird read, which usually I’m not a fan of. In this case, I felt it worked well.

Tags: Adult, Blood & Guts, Book Review, Eco Horror, Eldritch, Highly Recommended, Lesbian, LGBTQIA, Myths and Folklore, Own Voices, Queer, Trans

Greedy by Callie Kazumi

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Bantam

Genre: Psychological Horror

Audience: Adult

Diversity: Multiracial (hafu) Japanese-British author and major character, Japanese minor characters

Takes Place in: Japan

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Alcohol Abuse, Animal Death, Body Shaming, Bullying, Cannibalism, Child Death, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Eating Disorder, Suicide, Violence, Vomit

Blurb

Food-centric horror always makes me hungry, and this one had me craving meat. There’s a reason the cover warns it’s not safe for vegetarians.

*trigger warning for discussions of body size and eating disorders*

*end trigger warning*

Tags: Adult, Asian, Asian British, BIPOC, Book Review, Japanese, Own Voices, Psychological Horror, Recommended

The Valley of Vengeful Ghosts by Kim Fu

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Tin House

Genre: Gothic, Psychological Horror

Audience: Adult

Diversity: Chinese American author and main character

Blurb

The Valley of Vengeful Ghosts is a horror story about every millennial’s worst nightmare: being expected to navigate the world of adulthood without any guidance or support, and buying a home.

Tags: Adult, Asian, Asian Canadian, BIPOC, Book Review, Gothic, Hong Konger, Own Voices, Psychological Horror, Recommended

« Older Entries

Navigation

Diverse Book List

Review Policies and Rating Guide

Guide to Content Warnings

About This Blog

Links and Resources

Social Media

Search by Tags

To learn more about the Age Group, Diversity, and Genre tags, click here.