This was some of the best horror I’ve read in a long time - it was gory, it was tense, and best of all, the horror reflected the flaws and fears of the main characters in such chilling and devastating ways. The majority of this book is taken up with Louis’ story, which was definitely my favorite section. I loved the psychological aspects of how the Elk Head Woman haunted him in particular, especially given how little we as the reader understand about her at this point in the story. The way that the tension was held and sustained through this entire book, but especially during the night of the sweat with Cass and Gabe, was impeccable. I loved the way that the characters navigated (or refused to navigate) their identities as indigenous men, and the way that the story simultaneously forced them back to traditions of their ancestors while also interrogating the generational trauma from their more recent past. The elk herd over generations eventually begins to act as a mirror to the Blackfeet tribe, and I especially loved the way that Denorah’s character came into play with that at the end. I can recall almost every pivotal scene from this book in perfect detail in my mind, which stands to show just how unique and unforgettable this story was.

If there’s one thing everyone should know about me, it’s that one of my favorite very specific genres is true crime podcast thrillers in audiobook format. I felt that the podcast element was utilized perfectly here, bringing in interviews from the townsfolk to reveal different pieces of information at the right times, and allowing the reader to determine how truthful those interviews might be. While it wasn’t the most sophisticated expression of it in my opinion, I did feel like this book wanted to make some commentary about crime against women, which I’m always pleased to see in this genre. The way that Savvy was glamorized after her death, and the way that Lucy was demonized at the time same, was really interesting to me. The male and female characters in this book are very divided thematically - the idea is that women are blamed and gaslit for things that men do wrong, and the men get away with it, and that’s unfair. Like I said, not the most nuanced take, but one I appreciate nonetheless. I think I’m getting tired of incorporating romantic B-plots in thrillers, and this one felt especially unnecessary both to the plot and to Lucy’s character development. Fun but forgettable (just like most thrillers), though this one was bolstered by its integration of the podcast element, which I always enjoy.

This is a book about complicated grief, queer love, and ghosts - and it absolutely delivers on all of those fronts.The immensity of Andrew’s grief sits really heavy on this entire story, oppressive and stifling like the Tennessee heat that also invades just about every inch of this book. I felt like I could smell the asphalt and gas during the car race scenes, could feel the damp heat of the Appalachian summer, all paralleled with the constant tension of Andrew’s feelings of pure confusion and loss. It’s pretty obvious that the thing haunting Andrew isn’t entirely supernatural - it’s a manifestation of his denial and displaced feelings for Eddie. With that being said, the supernatural explanations of what was going on weren’t totally satisfying to me from a horror standpoint. In one sense, the pacing felt off to me, and I found myself getting bored at times or wondering when something relevant to the mystery would happen, but in the other, I did really enjoy the way that the ghost story reflected Andrew’s denial, struggle, and acceptance of both himself and Eddie’s death. If you’re a vibes-over-plot type of reader, I think this would work much better for you, and even then, I enjoyed it.

A necromantic locked room mystery featuring teenage CamPal? Thank you so much Tamsyn Muir! At this point, Muir could write anything and I’d read it and enjoy it just for the writing alone - they are such a talented writer, even in 28 pages. I was impressed by the ability to write an entire mystery, albeit not the most complex, in under 30 pages. Of course, the best part of this story isn’t the mystery, it’s the characters. Palamedes and Camila are so loved, and getting to see them as teens together was such a treat. Their relationship is so special and so different from many of the other necromancer/cavalier relationships we see in this series, and I loved getting this extra glimpse of them.

This is a collection of short stories following the same two characters, their fascination with the macabre, and their oddly transactional, sometimes toxic friendship with one another. My favorite part of this collection was the way that the author played with point of view, which leads us to some really incredible twists and reveals. Each story was entirely unique, gruesome, and shocking in its own way, especially “Dog” and “Grave”. The only story that I felt disappointed by was the bonus story titled “Morino’s Souvenir Photo”. All of the other stories felt so perfectly crafted in the highly controlled ways that information is revealed to the reader - just enough to cause a confused curiosity, right up until the exact moment that the author wants you to finally understand the whole picture. I felt that “Morino’s Souvenir Photo” was the only one that didn’t totally pull this off, but pulling off this style of storytelling in all of the other stories in this collection was a feat in itself. I was actually pleasantly surprised to find out after reading that the author actually wrote these stories with the intent of many of the characters being yokai, not human. This adds a different lens that would be really interesting to look through on a reread, which I would love to do in the near future.

This is a book that I’ve been meaning to read for so many years after being obsessed with the Carmilla web series as a teen. While that adaptation and the source material are obviously wildly different, Carmilla still stands out as a classic piece of literature with so many contemporary iterations and inspirations. What I really loved about this reading experience was the introduction and footnotes by Carmen Maria Machado. The introduction delves into the real-life inspiration for Carmilla, and how Le Fanu’s fictionalization of it is actually a disservice to the story, but that a modern reading of the story from the perspective of it being about the demonization of queerness (specifically queer women) can be found in the text. I found this reading of the story to be much more interesting than I would have had I read it without that context, and I think that Machado is what really made this book accessible to me as a modern reader. Reading Machado’s notes along with the text had me itching for more discussion on this book, and I definitely plan on doing further reading on it from a critical standpoint, which I feel like was the point of this edition.

What a delightful reading experience. The seaside town, the bookshop, the bakery, the cozy tavern - I wanted to live in this book. I loved the new characters (Fern especially!) and getting to see a younger, more inexperienced Viv. Fern and Viv’s friendship was probably my favorite character dynamic in this series as a whole. The way that they helped each other actualize things about themselves that they never considered possible was so beautiful. Honestly, the romance in this book paled in comparison to the development of this friendship, but I can’t even be mad at it because I loved Fern and Viv and everything they taught each other so much. That isn’t to say that the romance was bad or pointless - I actually think that Viv learned some valuable lessons with Maylee as well, but my book-loving heart just felt more connected to the bookshop storyline. As with Legends & Lattes, I thought this story struck the perfect balance between the mundane and the fantastical, creating the gold standard of cozy fantasy in my eyes.

Part heist/hostage-thriller, part Shining-esque paranormal horror story set at a remote hotel in the Australian wilderness, this book was a fun ride from start to finish. As a seasoned thriller reader, I liked the thriller-to-horror ratio that is struck in this book. The bank heist scene was an excellent, fast-paced way to start the story, and the home invasion and hostage portions of the book made for a unique setting for the supernatural elements. This author was not afraid to kill off characters, and some of the kill scenes were pretty brutal, which I always have to respect in books that are supposed to be horrifying. I liked the idea behind the paranormal horror, but I honestly thought that the backstory of the hotel and the original murders that happened there sometimes seemed more interesting than the plot at hand. I would gladly read a prequel from the perspective of the first family that lived there - the description of the crime scene that was found after their murders was probably the most memorable image of this entire book. I did actually appreciate Rueben’s character, despite being frustrated at times with the fate of all these people being in a preteen boy’s hands, he ended up gaining so much courage by the end and I felt myself rooting for him wholeheartedly. The slow but steady ramping up of both the supernatural being at the hotel and the frustration and rage of the criminals holding the family hostage was well-paced, but when you have so much buildup, it’s tough to stick the landing. While I found the ending perfectly satisfying, I did kind of want one final gut-punch at the end.

This is one of those young adult books that I wish I had read in my own young adult era. Even from the perspective of an adult, I can say without a doubt that this book is such a much-needed addition to the young adult space, with its conversations about grief and death, indigenous representation, and asexual representation, along with the charming storytelling and strong, determined, and intelligent female main character. Ellie was just so lovely, and her ghost-dog companion, Kirby, was such a wonderful little addition to the story. I knew going into this that the main character was asexual, but I loved that it was just a stated fact and not necessarily a journey that Ellie had to go through. I was a little worried that there would be a plotline about her friend having a crush on her and her having to come out to him as asexual, but that thankfully wasn’t the case. Ellie and Jay’s friendship was so refreshing to read in that sense. Ellie’s parents were also a refreshing aspect of this book. They believed in Ellie and didn’t write her off as just a child, giving her the respect and support that she needed from them without conflict. The way that magic worked in this world was another thing that really surprised me (like, who knew that this was kind of a vampire book? Not me!) - it was all so casual and realistic, and the indigenous ties to magic and the land were so beautifully written.

This is absolutely required reading for any Twin Peaks fan. I honestly would say that reading this before watching Fire Walk With Me adds a lot of context that makes that movie experience even richer, as if I thought that was even possible. Jennifer Lynch understands Laura’s character so deeply, to the point where I actually had to remind myself while reading that Laura Palmer is not a real person who wrote this diary, that this is a work of fiction. The way that Laura’s voice changes over time was so excellently done - from her 12-year-old self who understands very little, to her 15-year-old self who doesn’t understand enough, to her 17-year-old self who knows too much. This is the story of Laura slowly unraveling what is happening to her, raging against it internally, and eventually living a double life out of desperation for escape, all while no one around her seems to see any of it. Your heart breaks for her at every stage of this story. From watching the show, we understand the broad strokes of what happened to her, but to read it from her perspective was a completely different level of devastation. I found her relationship with Bobby to be particularly illuminated in this book, which is a relationship I was never totally clear on after watching the show. I also loved seeing Laura and Ronette interact, and how they cared for each other through their teenage years, especially knowing about their last night together in Fire Walk With Me. This was just so perfectly done.