 5 stars
My second 5 star read from Heaberlin. Welcome to the Amy's Favorites pile. Night Will Find You is one of those novels that I love best—a multi-genre baby. A heavy dose of mystery/thriller, a dash of speculative intrigue, a dollop of romantic tension, a spin of literary fiction style. A lil' bit o' everything, you know? Vivvy Bouchet is an astrophysicist looking for signs of life in the night sky. She's grounded in science, loaded with reality—but she has a poorly kept secret. Vivvy can also see things she's never been able to explain. From visions to feelings to ghosts impressions, Vivvy has always existed in the contradictory push/pull of science vs. the unexplained. A boy that she saved grew up into a Texan cop, and he knows about her gift. When the girls are missing or their killers can't be found, he asks Vivvy to help. Vivvy can't say no; it's complicated. But now, her gifts and relative anonymity are about to go up in smoke—the latest case she's pulled in to unofficially help with is a famous case of a missing little girl that captured the Texas public and remained unsolved. Jesse Sharp, the dangerous-edged detective in charge, doesn't want Vivvy's help. Vivvy doesn't want Jesse Sharp—he sees things too clearly, and he's pointed right at Vivvy. Neither Jesse nor Vivvy are going to get their way, as the case unfolds around them both like a death trap. Vivvy's convinced the girl is alive, and now it's time to prove it. Jesse thinks Vivvy is full of B.S., but he's out of options. Time to roll the tape... When I say I DEVOURED this book, I mean it. I read it in almost one, uninterrupted sitting at the very end of a lackluster reading year where nothing—and I mean NOTHING—held my attention in book form. I was in the slump to end all slumps, and nothing was shaking it. Heaberlin's novel caught me, and I'm thrilled to say it kept me, too. I loved it from the top down. The writing is gorgeous. The characters are compelling and believably messy. The plot itself is complex, like Heaberlin's other novel I've read (We Are All the Same in the Dark). The Texas setting is richly contextualized for this non-Southern reader. I truly don't have anything negative to say, besides a very small caveat (see below). Don't miss this one, it's well worth the read. Small caveat to this review: There are some complicated elements here that exist outside of the story’s ecosystem—the Elon Musk and DeGrasse Tyson references, in particular, are aging badly since its pub date in 2023—but outside of the real world retroactive gate-crashing, this is a novel I would consider near perfect in every way.
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 5 stars
Obsessed with this intricate, odd little sapphic fable. Come for the spiders, stay for the unique elements... From the marketing blurb: The Shape of Water meets Mexican Gothic in this sapphic monster romance novella wrapped in gothic fantasy trappings... Combining old-school fairytale storytelling with a very intriguing spider motif and a surprisingly sweet/PG romance, But Not Too Bold was basically the perfect little horror novella for me this month. I'm such a sucker for loving things I've never encountered before. It's the newness factor, the "oh I can't quite predict where we're going with this", the utter delight at being surprised in any capacity. The more you read, the less you get this high—unless you continue to ride the waves of the multiple genre/novella/emerging novels landscape. But Not Too Bold is one of those new little babies, and I'm thrilled to report it's worth your time if you're like me and looking for something fresh and fun to devour in one sitting. Some people might not call this a positive thing, but I also loved that this novella felt like a highly structured fairytale—almost like an episodic play?—with its various acts and vignette-like approach to the narrative. I think this element made the relatively simple plot much stronger, and it added to the story's overall sense of timelessness. And also, let's discuss the monster in the room--this novel has a VERY strong spider motif to it, and let's just say I was thrilled to see that in practice and done in a surprisingly unique way. I'll also keep this note vague here... because short novellas are very hard to discuss without spoiling part of the magic... but there's a highly romantic component to this story that honestly made me realize that there's a large demographic of romance/fluffy readers out there who would love this tale if it was described to them. This is a sweet story? And I think there's a group of non-horror readers who would love this one.  4.5 stars
The pandemic. Discrimination against Asians. Hungry ghosts. A string of murders. And the death of a sibling. Bat Eater pulls no punches and is happy to do it. It wants you to witness. Full disclosure: I would never have picked up this horror novel if not for the Evernight subscription box. I usually avoid sibling death in all things as it's one of the worst realities I can imagine for myself and, frankly, I don't want to read about it in any context. But this book came to me via a subscription box, and so I felt I needed to give it a go. It would only be polite, right? When I tell you I was hooked by the first few chapters—wow. This author really captured my attention with just a few extremely well-constructed scenes. And then we were off to the races, this book and I, and I finished it in one day. Cora Zeng's entire life changes on one fateful day in the first few weeks of the 2020 COVID pandemic in New York City. Her and her sister traveled far looking for toilet paper—remember the TP panic??—and they finally found some in China Town. They're in the subway waiting alone for the train when the unthinkable happens. A white man in disguise pushes Cora's sister onto the tracks. She's dead. In the aftermath of the unthinkable, Cora weathers the pandemic with poor grace. She's in heavy grief, she's dealing with some severe mental health struggles in the OCD and germophobic vein, and she's almost completely alone and afraid. Oh, and jobless and broke. So she picks a job that makes no sense for her set of personal issues, but a job is a job in this pandemic landscape: she becomes a crime scene cleaner. Cora notices a disturbing pattern: she's cleaning up an inordinate amount of Asian women's gruesome deaths. All of them horrifically involving bats. Bat eater = the derogatory slur toward Asian people that spread around during the pandemic due to the false and bigoted concept that the COVID virus came from bats>Asian people eat bats>Asian people are the source/problem of the pandemic. Between the horrifying deaths, Cora's grief, and the newly emerging sense that some sort of violent ghost is following her—despite her lack of belief in ghosts—Cora's left with no way out but through. She'll get to the bottom of these mysteries before the mysteries come for her. Oof. Bat Eater was gripping... but also heavy. It needed to be, given its heavy topics and the larger conversations that the author wanted to highlight in regard to anti-Asian discrimination, how hate crimes against Asians rose during the pandemic, and how the lingering traumas of that time are still with us as a culture. So much of our media doesn't address or acknowledge the pandemic. Don't you think that's strange? Maybe you don't—maybe you, like me and everyone else, don't like to think about that time period of fear and mass hysteria that dominated our lives for years and really set us back, globally, on a massive scale. We became more animal versions of ourselves, we isolated more than just our bodies, we unlearned our niceties, we stripped our generations of valuable skills and removed a lot of their social protections. It makes so much sense why a horror novel should include the pandemic—what was the pandemic, if not our own global horror story? To combine the pandemic horror + Chinese hungry ghost storyline + a grief narrative was a deftly done, heavyweight punch. Hats off to Kylie Lee Baker for making a novel that is hard to read but very well done. I recommend it to all who can handle the subject matters mentioned.  4 stars
I really, really enjoyed this one. Bit of an abrupt ending, but honestly that can be mostly forgiven because of the excellent creeping tension. I've had Dead Water on my radar for quite some time. When it came out, I saw quite a few mutuals online who hyped it up—the title, the cover, the description—and I was so excited. It sounded gothic adjacent, paranormal in a way I always love, and just plain atmospheric. But then the reviews trickled in, and I let them sway me. (Don't let them do that! Learn from me, another random reviewer trying to sway you! Lol.) People said this was boring, too long, not exciting, not horror enough, not interesting enough, not "enough" enough. I'm kind of at the point in my reading lifecycle where those kinds of negative reviews are almost like a siren call to me now. Usually, in my experience this means that a genre purist has found a book to be multi/hybrid genre and boyyy do they not like that. As a multi-genre person myself, I usually go OOooooo, alright, it's time for me. Dead Water is one of those multi-genre feeling stories. A little bit literary, a little bit gothic, a little bit horror, a little bit small-town isolated community diary, and a little bit fable. If you like book journeys where the point of the thing is to get a bone-deep sense of an entire community, this is the novel for you. The multiple POVs, the unflinching depictions of a large handful of flawed characters, their issues and wants and hates convalescing into one tangle with the backdrop of a creeping horror.... Yeah. That's the stuff. This literary-dominant atmospheric neo-Gothic northern island story is delicious if you're in it for the unfolding experience.  3.5 stars
Divorce yourself from the idea that this author is the same one who wrote If We Were Villains—the writing feels like her, but that constant comparison is going to make you dislike this slim novella. I enjoyed this micro slice-of-life into 5 interesting peoples’ lives and their weird crossed paths. Extremely well written, wry, and emotionally complex while maintaining a distanced third person POV in a way that I always personally appreciate. It was with less enjoyment that I came to terms with the fact that we’re still, for some reason, culturally stuck on the mycelium horror landscape that has been so thoroughly covered by Silvia Moreno-Garcia, T Kingfisher, and others. I am tired of that concept and wish it was done with more nuance / new elements. Already anticipating the next from ML Rio. (But please, let’s retire the fungus for a bit.)  4 stars
A bit long, but what a tale. Enter the woods, dark and deep, but watch out for the one who lurks in the shadows... And make sure the beacons are always lit. Don't go into Mockbeggar woods, they say. There's something in there that's not quite right. On the outskirts of a small English town, the Gonne family has stood apart for generations. The Gonnes keep odd customs and they take care of the abandoned Small Angels church down the road. They light beacons every night on the four corners of their property. And they hold vigil over the Mockbeggar woods. Lucia Gonne grew up as the youngest of four sisters on the Gonne family farm at the edge of the woods. The woods call to her in strange ways, and she finds herself constantly in trouble with her family as she breaks and bends their strict rules. Lucia doesn't understand what all the fuss is about—the woods like her, she's one of them, and her friend in the trees understands her when no one else does. Decades later, Chloe is preparing for her upcoming wedding at Small Angels, the abandoned church in her fiance's small English town. Everyone is shocked that she's getting married on that property, but no one will quite tell her why. No one meets her gaze, no one wants to talk about it, and when Chloe starts her wedding preparations at Small Angels, she feels something...off. As Lucia's timeline entwines with Chloe's, the tale of Mockbeggar woods and its secrets come into the light. For the first time, the townspeople and the Gonne family will need to talk about the secrets they've held for decades--and realize that the thing they thought had ended forever one fateful night might just be awakening again. What a glorious gothic tale for the fall season. I read this curled up in a blanket with a warm cup of tea, and that's my official recommendation for new readers. This book screams to be read in the autumn. Small Angels is a modern take on the ghost story, and one of those speculative, almost gothic tales that bridge the gap between mystery, horror, speculative, and literary. It's a multi-layered cake best left viewed as a whole and not quartered down into genre parts. I love these kinds of stories. I thought Small Angels was fabulous. My only critique is that it was too long—maybe not by much, but enough that I definitely had a hard time both getting into the story and maintaining my momentum in the middle portion. A tighter introduction with a streamlined middle would have easily catapulted this tale from a 4 star recommendation to a 5 star favorite novel without losing any of the punchy portions that made this story sing. In particular, I thought the storytelling element was superb. Telling ghost tales and fairytales around a fireplace, whispering about past legends... that kind of atmosphere is what Small Angels is about. And it nails this energy. It's one of those storylines that feels like its own tale from the fireside, fleshed out into a full novel with side characters and modern-day quests. Come for the small town, creepy elements. Stay for the storytelling core and the sense of triumph over evil.  4.5 stars
What a neat concept for a horror (speculative?) novel centered on the deep, dark woods. Come for the split-timeline horror pitch—stay for the creeping tension and seriously trippy finale. Concept: ★★★★★ Pacing: ★★★ Enjoyment: ★★★★ The Dark Between the Trees is a novel I've put off reading for quite a long time. I'm not completely sure why, but the core idea is that I thought I knew what this novel was about. Let's clear that assumption right away: I did not. This is one of those nebulous stories that sounds really vague and predictable from the synopsis. A group of people disappeared into a supposedly haunted woods in the long-ago past. Today, a group of people head into that same woods to see if they can discover what happened to that lost group. Dun dun dun, it's about to get dark real fast. (And we don't think that present-day timeline group of people are going to have a good time.) On the surface, that IS what this novel is about. Two timelines, two groups of people, two ventures into the deep dark with unexpected trials awaiting them. But let me be both vague and yet, hopefully, more interesting—this novel takes us to some interesting places. I found myself captivated by the tension and anxiously eager to see where this plot was heading. It's a taut, bare-bones plot with a great sense of ominous atmosphere. And its ending is truly quite cool—can't say it's something I've read before and it's very unique in its particular level of execution (or at least, it was new to this reader). Is it a mystery/thriller? A horror novel? An unexpectedly speculative/magical adventure? All of the above? ...Yes and no. This hybrid beast is all of the above, and I think that's partially why the ratings for The Dark Between the Trees are so lukewarm. It's not enough of a mystery, not enough of a horror, not enough of a resolution. It just is. It's a lingering, half-formed, folkloric kind of thing. If you like weird little tales of the dark woods, check this one out with an open mind. It's pretty cool.  5 stars
Obsessed with this. There is nothing I love more than a hybrid-genre, convoluted, and dramatic mess mixed with the occult and dark academia. Evocation is a dash of polyamory, a dash of messy rich people, a heavy dusting of the occult, a moderate dumping of modern-day Boston, and a clash of speculative mixed with academia mixed with paranormal fantasy vibes. Concept: ★★★ Pacing: ★★★★★ Characters: ★★★★★ Vibes: ★★★★★ As a teen, David Aristarkhov was a psychic prodigy, operating under the shadow of his oppressive occultist father. Now, years after his father’s death and rapidly approaching his thirtieth birthday, he is content as a Boston attorney, moonlighting as a powerful medium for his secret society. But with power comes a price, and the Devil has come to collect on an ancestral deal. David’s days are numbered. Reluctantly, he reaches out to the only person he’s ever trusted, his ex-boyfriend and secret Society rival Rhys, for help. However, the only way to get to Rhys is through his wife, Moira. Thrust into each other’s care, emotions once buried deep resurface, and the trio race to figure out their feelings for one another before the Devil steals David away for good… This book has oddly low ratings, considering it's a new favorite read for me. I think it's a mix of a few issues. The first and largest one being that this novel is not too much of any one thing. The dark academia folks coming from The Secret History aren't finding enough literary descent into madness. The occult baddies are not finding enough buzzwords and practical plot developments to make this feel like a dark tapestry of occult happenings. And the people who like strictly fantasy, or horror, or speculative, are confronted with this hybridized version of all three concepts wrapped up in a package that feels very... contemporary fiction vibes with its modern-day dramas and emotional politics between late 20-somethings in Boston. I like it all, folks, so this series opener was a smash hit for me. The exes drama? On point. The slow-build poly negotiations? Exquisite. The culture clash of old-world occult with talk of cell phones and Boston apartment costs? I love that duality. Evocation will be a slow-burn hit for those who like to read a little bit of everything. I hope it finds its audience, as I NEED the author to keep going and write us more about these characters and their world. I'm obsessed. Very much looking forward to where ST Gibson takes us with this series, especially as we move beyond the opening act of relationship-dynamic excavation and move on to the good stuff in the demonic plot and the (hopefully) good ending for all of our favs on the page.  5 stars
A new favorite book!! Like a continued conversation of C.S. Lewis' Narnia but with some much-needed modern updates and encapsulating the most important bit: the joy of portal fantasy. Concept: ★★★★ Pacing: ★★★★★ Characters: ★★★★ Plot: ★★★★ As boys, best friends Jeremy Cox and Rafe Howell went missing in a vast West Virginia state forest, only to mysteriously reappear six months later with no explanation for where they’d gone or how they’d survived. Fifteen years after their miraculous homecoming, Rafe is a reclusive artist who still bears scars inside and out but has no memory of what happened during those months. Meanwhile, Jeremy has become a famed missing persons’ investigator. With his uncanny abilities, he is the one person who can help vet tech Emilie Wendell find her sister, who vanished in the very same forest as Rafe and Jeremy. Sometimes, there are stories that come out of nowhere and knock you back on your feet in pure joy. The Lost Story was one of those tales for me. I went into this novel with little to no expectations—it was my Book of the Month book club pick, and seemed like the best of the lot in a lackluster selection pool. So it was to my pleasant surprise that I found myself captivated by this fairytale of childhood escapades colliding with adult dreams. If you were a Narnia kid, you've got to give this novel a try. (And, if you weren't a Narnia person for the religious reasons, rest assured that this story is a safe space for you too as religion is not a factor in this remake.) The Lost Story is about two adult men coming together again after decades of separation and separate grief periods following a mysterious lost period of their childhood. It's also about an adult woman looking for her long-lost sister, who she never knew but has always mourned. And it's about "finding" in all of its forms. Finding your way, finding love, finding home, finding what was once lost. Like all the best fairytales, this story isn't that deep yet hits all of the deep notes. We're not excavating Christianity like C.S. Lewis, and we're not trying to take any moral stance on anything. But we are coming to the meaning of love, and acceptance, and overcoming childhood traumas to discover inner peace. I think it's best to go into this novel with little more than that as preparation—part of the magic is in the joy of experiencing this story for what it is. However, please note there are some trigger warnings: childhood abuse, parental abuse of father to child (not sexual), trauma from those experiences affecting the child as an adult, confronting your abuser, homophobia.  5 stars
I loved everything about this debut. Generational bonds between the women in one family line tied into one horror-tinged speculative debut with Cree Canadian roots. Bad Cree snuck up on me. I saw the cover a few times in the store and it caught my eye. But I kept passing it by, until eventually I heard someone mention that it was a story about sisters and horror-based dreaming. Those two hooks grabbed me and i knew I needed to read this story. Mackenzie keeps waking up from the same dream. This in itself isn't that odd—but the fact that she wakes up with pieces of that dream in her hand, in the real world, is odd. From twigs to the decapitated head of a crow, Mackenzie knows that a) this isn't normal and b) things are getting worse. And she's getting scared. Her Cree family, with its deep roots to the Alberta land, are far away from Mackenzie's sad apartment in Vancouver. And Mackenzie realizes that maybe its time to face the sadness and secrets awaiting her in her hometown... Combining family secrets, Cree stories, and a persistent thread of endurance and love throughout, Bad Cree was a perfect read for me. I loved Mackenzie's journey. I was here for her pain, her grief, and her family's close bonds yet tangled relationships. Having such a strong novel about sisterhood tied to a speculative horror novel was a huge win for me. Bad Cree's accessible writing and creeping sense of atmospheric dread catapulted this immediately into a new favorite read. Come for the intrigue of the "real" dreams, stay for the tension and family story. This isn't a slasher horror, or even a big bang reveal—it's a small story with deep roots. |
Amy Imogene ReadsJust someone looking for her own door into Wonderland. Categories
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All reviews posted are my own and do not reflect the opinions of any other individual or entity. When applicable, reviewed titles sent to me by the publisher are noted at the bottom of each review.
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