Books Read in 2024: Four-Star Horror

Oh my goodness Engie, DID I READ Into the Drowning Deep, INDEED I DID, and five-starred it, it's one of my favourites of Mira Grant/Seanan McGuire's - maybe THE favourite. I had read Rolling in the Deep (now called 0.5) and thought it was good but really needed some fleshing out, and this was all I wanted and more from a sequel. It's catalogued as "Rolling in the Deep #1" and I keep longingly investigating whether there is a #2, and thus far my search has been fruitless. She said something on Twitter about needing it to sell well to get signed for a sequel, so maybe it did not, which is a travesty.

Matt's away for the week again. It is, by some kind of glacial sorcery, still January. I remember one day saying to Eve "well at least we're about halfway through" and Eve said "mom it's the ninth". That was, like, eight months ago? I tend to have a headache most days in January. Something about the rotation of the earth and my head. Sometimes I forget about my migraine pills, but this year I've used the number I was allowed (can't take more than ten in a month) and it's helped. I've done yoga nearly every day and seen my massage therapist thrice already. I also read over my No Resolutions New Year's post and your incredibly kind and supportive comments, and all of this is helping me through the last week of January (seriously, how is the whole week STILL JANUARY?)

In addition to treating my body well I decided to try radically positive self-talk in January. Like, just telling myself that whatever I was doing was fine, whatever I felt like doing was enough. It's really hard, and I forgot about it after about a week. We have to ship Angus's Christmas presents and a couple of things he wants from home and Matt keeps leaving the country and we can't seem to settle on the right way to do it. One giant box or multiple boxes? Matt seems to think driving over the border to Ogdensburg so we're shipping within one country will be cheaper, but I'm not convinced - we sent some stuff by UPS within Canada during the postal strike and it was really expensive. Should we just do Canada Post? I packed a lot of it in one medium-sized box today, and I'm going to request that we figure it out and ship it before Matt leaves again (he's home at the end of the week for a week, and then off to Rome, then Bali. Rome. Then Bali.)

I feel like I read a lot of horror last year, maybe even more than usual. I thought there was a way to see a genre breakdown on Goodreads but there either isn't or I can't remember how (equally likely). I get a horror newsletter from Book Riot that usually has good recommendations, that's probably one reason. I leaned in to every book written by BIPOC that I could find - unsure if that's any kind of helpful, especially if I borrow rather than buying. 

Horror

All These Sunken Souls: A Black Horror Anthology edited by Circe Moskowitz: Synopsis from Goodreads: We are all familiar with tropes of the horror genre: slasher and victims, demon and the possessed. Bloody screams, haunted visions, and the peddler of wares we aren’t sure we can trust. In this young adult horror anthology, fans of Jordan Peele, Lovecraft Country, and Horror Noire will get a little bit of everything they love—and a lot of what they fear—through a twisted blend of horror lenses, from the thoughtful to the terrifying.

From haunted, hungry Victorian mansions, temporal monster–infested asylums, and ravaging zombie apocalypses, to southern gothic hoodoo practitioners and cursed patriarchs in search of Black Excellence.

Lights by Kalynn Bayron (I had read her YA horror novel): a serial killer stalks a family with excruciating leisure and attention, with a fun inversion at the very end. 

All My Best Friends are Dead by Liselle Sambury (also read her YA horror novel): one of those sleepovers where you say a dead girl's name in the mirror three times, and then something happened - or did it? This one freaked me the frig out. There was some dead-on writing about female friendships, and the weird psychosis that can take over during sleepovers and then -- *shiver*.

The Teeth Come Out at Night by Sami Ellis - a young black girl trying desperately to earn money for college, crossed with a freaky tooth fairy thing.

I Love Your Eyes by Joel Rochester - a mixed relationship, an ancestral manor house in Wales and a tightening spiral of menace. Eeeeek. Recalled a particular episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, as well as another classic I won't name (spoilers).

The Landscape of Broken Things by Brent Lambert - a really cool story about clairvoyance, which is feared and regulated.

Mother, Daughter, and the Devil by Donyae Coles - a story about a cursed child told in dialect. A lot of people really liked it. I found it evocative but I didn't really understand exactly what happened.

No Harm Done by Circe Moskowitz (isn't that a cool name?) - A black woman meets her twin after they were separated by adoption for years. And then all hell breaks loose. A zombie apocalypse meets The Parent Trap. Probably the best example of a story where racial issues dovetail neatly with horror tropes. A fantastic ending to the anthology. 

"I think about Alana's life, beside mine. I wonder if I would have fared better here. Or maybe it would have been worse, with well-intentioned racists and forced respectability. A shining token, soaking in a weak trickle of protection that could turn lethal at any minute."

Never Whistle at Night: An Indigenous Dark Fiction Anthology edited by Shane Hawk: Synopsis from Goodreads: Many Indigenous people believe that one should never whistle at night. This belief takes many forms: for instance, Native Hawaiians believe it summons the Hukai’po, the spirits of ancient warriors, and Native Mexicans say it calls Lechuza, a witch that can transform into an owl. But what all these legends hold in common is the certainty that whistling at night can cause evil spirits to appear—and even follow you home.

These wholly original and shiver-inducing tales introduce readers to ghosts, curses, hauntings, monstrous creatures, complex family legacies, desperate deeds, and chilling acts of revenge. Introduced and contextualized by bestselling author Stephen Graham Jones, these stories are a celebration of Indigenous peoples’ survival and imagination, and a glorious reveling in all the things an ill-advised whistle might summon.

Very good, on the whole. Some stories were excellent. Some lost me a little. Overall a really good range of pieces that are scary while also featuring gutting examples of discrimination and violence perpetrated on indigenous people.
Stephen Graham Jones - already a favourite of mine - does an excellent introduction and story. The revenge stories are viciously satisfying, others are viscerally unsettling. There are supernatural creatures and ghosts and bodily transformations, and then sometimes real life is horror enough.
The Scientist's Horror Story by Darcie Little Badger is probably my favourite - uses the trope of telling scary stories in a group, starts off with a classically scary story and then finishes with a sobering wallop of the realities of what a lifetime of racism does to the future of millions of racialized people. Quantum by Nick Medina  - taking the concept of 'blood quantum' to its extreme logical conclusion - was almost too effective. 

Christmas and Other Horrors: A Winter Solstice Anthology edited by Ellen Datlow: Synopsis from Goodreads: Hugo Award winning editor, and horror legend, Ellen Datlow presents a terrifying and chilling horror anthology of original short stories exploring the endless terrors of winter solstice traditions across the globe, featuring chillers by Tananarive Due, Stephen Graham Jones, Alma Katsu and many more.

The winter solstice is celebrated as a time of joy around the world—yet the long nights also conjure a darker tradition of ghouls, hauntings, and visitations. This anthology of all-new stories invites you to huddle around the fire and revel in the unholy, the dangerous, the horrific aspects of a time when families and friends come together—for better and for worse.

From the eerie Austrian Schnabelperchten to the skeletal Welsh Mari Lwyd, by way of ravenous golems, uncanny neighbors, and unwelcome visitors, Christmas and Other Horrors captures the heart and horror of the festive season.

Because the weather outside is frightful, but the fire inside is hungry...

You know me and a Datlow anthology, even a Christmas one in October. Some of these were legit frightening - the Welsh legend one His Castle by Alma Katsu (read it more than once) in particular. There were a couple where that kind of inversion happens where you think you know where it's going and it manages to surprise you - I love that. In The Importance of a Tidy Home by Christopher Golden, Austrian creatures called Schnabelperchten visit your home on Christmas Eve and if it's not tidy they kill you horribly (I was with the one reviewer who said "love this story. I would be so dead." The Mawkin Field by Terry Dowling made me angry because it was almost really cool, but then it didn't QUITE seem to make sense, and I had that feeling like the author doesn't really know what he meant either but he's counting on you just thinking you were too dumb to get it. 

The Mythic Dream edited by Dominik Parisien and Navah Wolfe: Synopsis from Goodreads: An all-new anthology of eighteen classic myth retellings featuring an all-star lineup of award-winning and critically acclaimed writers.

Madeleine L’Engle once said, “When we lose our myths we lose our place in the universe.” The Mythic Dream gathers together eighteen stories that reclaim the myths that shaped our collective past, and use them to explore our present and future. From Hades and Persephone to Kali, from Loki to Inanna, this anthology explores retellings of myths across cultures and civilizations.

I love reading short story collections, hate reviewing them. I either make really great notes or almost none. This was really cool, though. Greek, Egyptian, Jewish, ancient Sumerian, Indian, and Norse mythology all lend themselves really well to updated science-fictional or fantastic treatments. T. Kingfisher's Labours of Hercules entry featuring a talking kingfisher (ha ha, get it?) did not disappoint. Across the River by Leah Cypess was eerie and sad. Naomi Novik takes on the Minotaur legend. One reviewer said "King Minos is not a nice man in this version" which, was he in any? I liked when ancient myths where women were powerless were updated to stories where women turned the tables on their oppressors. 

A Sliver of Darkness by C.J. Tudor: Synopsis from Goodreads: The debut short story collection from the acclaimed author of The Chalk Man, featuring ten bone-chilling and mind-bending tales

Timeslips. Doomsday scenarios. Killer butterflies. C. J. Tudor's novels are widely acclaimed for their dark, twisty suspense plots, but with A Sliver of Darkness, she pulls us even further into her dizzying imagination.
In Final Course, the world has descended into darkness, but a group of old friends make time for one last dinner party. In Runaway Blues, thwarted love, revenge, and something very nasty stowed in a hat box converge. In Gloria, a strange girl at a service station endears herself to a cold-hearted killer, but can a leopard really change its spots? And in I'm Not Ted, a case of mistaken identity has unforeseen, fatal consequences.

I said I really liked it, and I believe I really liked it, but I don't remember most of it. I did like the introductions to the stories - I don't always, but in this case I found they added to the experience. I think I was rushing to finish this for some reason. I remember the story where people now live their lives on cruise ships (inspired by when people got stuck on cruise ships during the pandemic), and after fifty years run the risk of being 'retired' at age 75. There is a question of whether the main character's daughter drowned or escaped and is living on land. 

I have really liked all of Tudor's books except one. I will probably take a second crack at some of these stories.

Ghostly: A Collection of Ghost Stories edited by Audrey Niffenegger: Synopsis from Goodreads: Collected and introduced by the bestselling author of The Time Traveler's Wife and Her Fearful Symmetry --including Audrey Niffenegger's own fabulous new illustrations for each piece, and a new story by her--this is a unique and haunting anthology of some of the best ghost stories of all time.

     From Edgar Allan Poe to Kelly Link, M.R. James to Neil Gaiman, H.H. Munro to Audrey Niffenegger herself, Ghostly reveals the evolution of the ghost story genre with tales going back to the eighteenth century and into the modern era, ranging across styles from Gothic Horror to Victorian, stories about haunting--haunted children, animals, houses. Every story is introduced by Audrey Niffenegger, an acclaimed master of the craft, with some words on its background and why she chose to include it. Audrey's own story is "A Secret Life With Cats."

     Perfect for the classic and contemporary ghost story aficionado, this is a delightful volume, beautifully illustrated by Audrey, who is a graphic artist with great vision. Ghostly showcases the best of the best in the field, including Edith Wharton, P.G. Wodehouse, A.S. Byatt, Ray Bradbury, and so many more.

I always visit the little independent bookstore down the road from Eve and buy something when I'm visiting. I didn't look at this carefully enough and thought it was a new Audrey Niffenegger book - I loved The Time Traveller's Wife and liked Her Fearful Symmetry and have been hoping for something new. But once I settled down to what it was, it was a very satisfying read. I usually veer towards more modern horror, but there's something about a pretty book with good production values, and I gave myself over to the more gothic flourishes of the classic stories. Sometimes a more leisurely, detailed, meandering writing style works, especially in a short story. And there is a Niffenegger story - with cats. It's freakin' weird. 

The Seven Visitations of Sydney Burgess by Andy Marino: Synopsis from Goodreads: From a thrilling new voice in horror, Andy Marino, comes a haunting tale of a woman whose life begins to unravel after a home invasion. She’s told she killed the intruder. But she can’t remember, and no one believes her…

Sydney's spent years burying her past and building a better life for herself and her eleven-year old son. A respectable marketing job, a house with reclaimed and sustainable furniture, and a boyfriend who loves her son and accepts her, flaws and all. But when she opens her front door, and a masked intruder knocks her briefly unconscious, everything begins to unravel.  She wakes in the hospital and tells a harrowing story of escape. Of dashing out a broken window. Of running into her neighbors' yard and calling the police. What the cops tell her is that she can no longer trust her memories. Because they say that not only is the intruder lying dead in her guest room, but he's been murdered in a way that seems intimately personal. 

When she returns home, Sydney can't shake the deep darkness that hides in every corner. There's an unnatural whisper in her ear, urging her back to old addictions. And as her memories slowly return, she begins to fear that her new life was never built on solid ground-and that the secrets buried beneath will change everything.

This is the aforementioned modern horror, where the terror comes not just from ghosts or intruders, but from the feeling that you might be an unreliable narrator in your own life. This is exacerbated by Sydney's addiction issues, and the descriptions of trying - and sometimes failing - to resist relapsing are uncomfortably well done. There's a vein of misogyny as well. This was an ambitious swing, and I'm not sure it worked entirely, but I'll be interested to see more from this author. 

The Chill by Scott Carson: Synopsis from Goodreads: In this terrifying thriller, a supernatural force—set in motion a century ago—threatens to devastate New York City.

Far upstate, in New York’s ancient forests, a drowned village lays beneath the dark, still waters of the Chilewaukee reservoir. Early in the 20th century, the town was destroyed for the greater good: bringing water to the millions living downstate. Or at least that’s what the politicians from Manhattan insisted at the time. The local families, settled there since America’s founding, were forced from their land, but they didn’t move far, and some didn’t move at all…

Now, a century later, the repercussions of human arrogance are finally making themselves known. An inspector assigned to oversee the dam, dangerously neglected for decades, witnesses something inexplicable. It turns out that more than the village was left behind in the waters of the Chill when it was abandoned. The townspeople didn’t evacuate without a fight. A dark prophecy remained, too, and the time has come for it to be fulfilled. Those who remember must ask themselves: who will be next? For sacrifices must be made. And as the dark waters begin to inexorably rise, the demand for a fresh sacrifice emerges from the deep...

My second-read book by Carson (a pseudonym for Michael Koryta), and my least favourite of the three, but still very good. The descriptions of the underpinnings of water systems - enormous, complicated infrastructure that many of us never give a thought to, that fails badly when it fails - are eerie and impactful in their own right. I think I tend to prefer stories where a collection of mysterious occurrences result in a slow realization of the truth, but the inevitability of the tragedy unfolding here was also effective. 

Dead Water by C.A. Fletcher: Synopsis from Goodreads: A water-borne blight hits a remote community on a small island on the edge of the Northern Atlantic. The islanders are a strange mix, some island-born, some seeking a slower life away from the modern world. All have their own secrets, some much darker than others. Rumour says the illness may be a water-borne neural infection from the shellfish farm, a case of mass hysteria - or even a long-buried curse - but when ferry service fails, inconvenience grows into nightmarish ordeal as the outwardly harmonious fabric of the community is unnervingly torn apart.

A haunting, suspenseful tale of isolation and dread within a small island community -from the author of A Boy and his Dog at the End of the World, perfect for fans of The Loney and Station Eleven.

Truthfully I'm probably inflating my review a tiny bit because of the author's previous book (A Boy and His Dog at the End of the World - so good).  I enjoyed the experience of reading this, I appreciated the characterization and I was engaged enough to keep reading. Fletcher's writing is clear and lovely, and the place description and sense of isolation and inexorability are cinematically vivid. Both the past and present timelines were evocative and affecting, but I would have appreciated a clearer depiction of the connection between the two, which I'm still not sure I completely understand. 

Murder Road by Simone St. James: Synopsis from Goodreads: A young couple find themselves haunted by a string of gruesome murders committed along an old deserted road in this terrifying new novel.

July 1995. April and Eddie have taken a wrong turn. They’re looking for the small resort town where they plan to spend their honeymoon. When they spot what appears to be a lone hitchhiker along the deserted road, they stop to help. But not long after the hitchhiker gets into their car, they see the blood seeping from her jacket and a truck barreling down Atticus Line after them.

When the hitchhiker dies at the local hospital, April and Eddie find themselves in the crosshairs of the Coldlake Falls police. Unexplained murders have been happening along Atticus Line for years and the cops finally have two witnesses who easily become their only suspects. As April and Eddie start to dig into the history of the town and that horrible stretch of road to clear their names, they soon learn that there is something supernatural at work, something that could not only tear the town and its dark secrets apart, but take April and Eddie down with it all.

No book of St. James's has quite reached the level of The Broken Girls for me, but I still enjoy her approach to hauntings, which is more matter-of-fact than breathless and dramatic. I also liked how the married couple were united in their search, and how their pasts and relationship informed the action. 

An Inquiry into Love and Death by Simone St. James: Synopsis from Goodreads: After her ghost-hunting uncle Toby dies, Oxford student Jillian must drive to the seaside village of Rothewell to pack up his belongings. Almost immediately, terrifying events convince Jillian that an angry spirit is trying to enter the house. Is it Walking John, the two-hundred-year-old ghost that haunts the bay? And who besides the ghost is roaming the local woods at night? If Toby uncovered something sinister, was his death really an accident? The arrival of handsome Scotland Yard inspector Drew Merriken leaves Jillian with more questions than answers and the added complication of a powerful mutual attraction.

After this I'll probably take a break on this author. I wasn't sure how I would feel about the 1920s timeline, unbroken by any modern timeline, but I enjoyed the plucky Oxford girl scandalizing the small seaside town residents with her tendency to occasionally show an ankle or even a knee. This was nearly a cozy ghost story, which I seem to be growing more susceptible to in my advanced years. Likewise the 'powerful mutual attraction' with the irascible Scotland Yard Inspector - generally the kind of thing that makes me roll my eyes HARD, but I was reluctantly won over by the characters and the romance. Who even am I anymore?

The Night Guest by Hildur Knudsdottir: Synopsis from Goodreads: Hildur Knutsdottir's The Night Guest is an eerie and ensnaring story set in contemporary Reykjavík that’s sure to keep you awake at night. Iðunn is in yet another doctor's office. She knows her constant fatigue is a sign that something's not right, but practitioners dismiss her symptoms and blood tests haven't revealed any cause.

When she talks to friends and family about it, the refrain is the same ― have you tried eating better? exercising more? establishing a nighttime routine? She tries to follow their advice, buying everything from vitamins to sleeping pills to a step-counting watch. Nothing helps.
Until one night Iðunn falls asleep with the watch on, and wakes up to find she’s walked over 40,000 steps in the night . . .
What is happening when she’s asleep? Why is she waking up with increasingly disturbing injuries? And why won’t anyone believe her?

Atmosphere to burn. A ghost in your house would be terrible, but what about a ghost in your body? This is short and deeply unsettling. It probably would have been a five-star read except that the ending was terrible and made me want to throw a shoe at the wall. There's being evocative and not spoon-feeding your reader, and then there's just laziness. Hmph. 

The Devil and the Dark Water by Stuart Turton: Synopsis from Goodreads: A murder on the high seas. A detective duo. A demon who may or may not exist.

It's 1634 and Samuel Pipps, the world's greatest detective, is being transported to Amsterdam to be executed for a crime he may, or may not, have committed. Traveling with him is his loyal bodyguard, Arent Hayes, who is determined to prove his friend innocent.
But no sooner are they out to sea than devilry begins to blight the voyage. A twice-dead leper stalks the decks. Strange symbols appear on the sails. Livestock is slaughtered.
And then three passengers are marked for death, including Samuel.
Could a demon be responsible for their misfortunes?

With Pipps imprisoned, only Arent can solve a mystery that connects every passenger onboard. A mystery that stretches back into their past and now threatens to sink the ship, killing everybody on board.

Interesting, a little different, very character-driven haunting mystery. Samuel Pipps, the Holmesian figure, is interesting, but it is his bodyguard Arent Hayes who really shines. Sara Wessel, a badass female character despite the constraints of the time and her marriage, is also a pleasure to see in action. I admire this author's ambition in scope and device in every successive book, even when it doesn't work for me. 

Camp Damascus by Chuck Tingle: Synopsis from Goodreads: A searing and earnest horror debut about the demons the queer community faces in America, the price of keeping secrets, and finding the courage to burn it all down.They’ll scare you straight to hell.

Welcome to Neverton, Montana: home to a God-fearing community with a heart of gold.

Nestled high up in the mountains is Camp Damascus, the self-proclaimed “most effective” gay conversion camp in the country. Here, a life free from sin awaits. But the secret behind that success is anything but holy.

A hell of a ride for a debut novel. I enjoy when horror satirizes and skewers bigotry, which this does all day long. 

Bury Your Gays by Chuck Tingle: Synopsis from Goodreads: From Chuck Tingle, author of the USA Today bestselling Camp Damascus, comes a new heart-pounding story about what it takes to succeed in a world that wants you dead.

Misha is a jaded scriptwriter who has been working in Hollywood for years, and has just been nominated for his first Oscar. But when he's pressured by his producers to kill off a gay character in the upcoming season finale―"for the algorithm"―Misha discovers that it's not that simple.

As he is haunted by his past, and past mistakes, Misha must risk everything to find a way to do what's right―before it's too late.

4.5. A step up from Camp Damascus in sophistication. A razor-sharp depiction of Hollywood hypocrisy and the internal conflicts of people working there. I really didn't know where the story was going, and the reveal was really creative and surprising. This author will be an automatic read for me from now on. 

The Gathering by C.J. Tudor: Synopsis from Goodreads: Deadhart, Alaska. 873. Living.

In a small Alaska town, a boy is found with his throat ripped out and all the blood drained from his body. The inhabitants of Deadhart haven’t seen a killing like this in twenty-five years. But they know who’s responsible: a member of the Colony, an ostracized community of vampyrs living in an old mine settlement deep in the woods.

Detective Barbara Atkins, a specialist in vampyr killings, is called in to officially determine if this is a Colony killing—and authorize a cull. Old suspicions die hard in a town like Deadhart, but Barbara isn’t so sure. Determined to find the truth, she enlists the help of a former Deadhart sheriff, Jenson Tucker, whose investigation into the previous murder almost cost him his life. Since then, Tucker has become a recluse. But he knows the Colony better than almost anyone.

As the pair delve into the town’s history, they uncover secrets darker than they could have imagined. And then another body is found. While the snow thickens and the nights grow longer, a killer stalks Deadhart, and two disparate communities circle each other for blood. Time is running out for Atkins and Tucker to find the truth: Are they hunting a bloodthirsty monster . . . or a twisted psychopath? And which is more dangerous?

I felt like Tudor's last book (The Drift) was a bobble, but this was Tudor back in form and more. I read this fast, and for that reason I had a tiny quibble with the book being set in Alaska but the British spelling of smelled - "smelt", (which I hate ew ew ew) - being used repeatedly, because it seemed to come up so often. 

So, so good, though. The setting was so perfect - cold, pitiless, claustrophobic, isolated. Barbara is a fantastic character - her determined equanimity in the face of all manner of bigotry and hostility is admirable, and her grumpy knee-aching schlumpiness is an antidote to the wearying plague of relentlessly glamorous police women in popular fiction. The vampire community is an ideal metaphorical stand-in for multiple other marginalized populations, along with the uneasy existence between the humans and the vampires. 

The Village Library Demon-Hunting Society by C.M. Waggoner: Synopsis from Goodreads: A librarian with a knack for solving murders realizes there is something decidedly supernatural afoot in her little town in this cozy fantasy mystery.

Librarian Sherry Pinkwhistle keeps finding bodies—and solving murders. But she's concerned by just how many killers she's had to track down in her quaint village. None of her neighbors seem surprised by the rising body count...but Sherry is becoming convinced that whatever has been causing these deaths is unnatural. But when someone close to Sherry ends up dead, and her cat, Lord Thomas Crowell, becomes possessed by what seems to be an ancient demon, Sherry begins to think she’s going to need to become an exorcist as well as an amateur sleuth. With the help of her town's new priest, and an assortment of friends who dub themselves the "Demon-Hunting Society," Sherry will have to solve the murder and get rid of a demon. This riotous mix of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Murder, She Wrote is a lesson for demons and murderers.

Never mess with a librarian.

A cozy mystery with a cat - everything I've steered clear of for years. But come on, it's a librarian and there's a demon (and a hot priest), and now that I'm thinking about it, this was a gateway cozy, goddammit.

I recently read another book by this author and it could not be more different in subject matter, but there is something about her writing that I find absolutely irresistible, and I've found that when it comes to this kind of thing it's almost impossible to describe. Someone addressing the usually-unexamined device of a small village where a disproportionate number of people seem to drop dead is most welcome, and the the amateur detective being a middle-aged woman rather than a perky teenager, well, yeah, bring it on. I have plans to give this one as a gift more than once.

The September House by Carissa Orlando: Synopsis from Goodreads: A woman is determined to stay in her dream home even after it becomes a haunted nightmare in this compulsively readable, twisty, and layered debut novel.

When Margaret and her husband Hal bought the large Victorian house on Hawthorn Street—for sale at a surprisingly reasonable price—they couldn’t believe they finally had a home of their own. Then they discovered the hauntings. Every September, the walls drip blood. The ghosts of former inhabitants appear, and all of them are terrified of something that lurks in the basement. Most people would flee.
Margaret is not most people.

Margaret is staying. It’s her house. But after four years Hal can’t take it anymore, and he leaves abruptly. Now, he’s not returning calls, and their daughter Katherine—who knows nothing about the hauntings—arrives, intent on looking for her missing father. To make things worse, September has just begun, and with every attempt Margaret and Katherine make at finding Hal, the hauntings grow more harrowing, because there are some secrets the house needs to keep.

What if your house turned out to be haunted, but you just...lived there anyway? And not in a charming, I See Dead People But They Just Want My Help way. This was most decidedly not a cozy. I really don't want to say too much about the plot because I feel like this is best approached with minimal spoilers, but the dovetailing of the haunted house with a certain other issue in Margaret's life was absolutely brilliant. The haunting manifestations go from merely inconvenient to outright terrifying. I loved everything about this and I'm unsure why I didn't just give it five stars. For a first novel this was massively impressive, and I will be waiting eagerly for the next book. 

Diavola by Jennifer Thorne: Synopsis from Goodreads:Anna has two rules for the annual Pace family destination vacations: Tread lightly and survive.

It isn’t easy when she’s the only one in the family who doesn’t quite fit in. Her twin brother, Benny, goes with the flow so much he’s practically dissolved, and her older sister, Nicole, is so used to everyone—including her blandly docile husband and two kids—falling in line that Anna often ends up in trouble for simply asking a question. Mom seizes every opportunity to question her life choices, and Dad, when not reminding everyone who paid for this vacation, just wants some peace and quiet.

The gorgeous, remote villa in tiny Monteperso seems like a perfect place to endure so much family togetherness, until things start going off the rails—the strange noises at night, the unsettling warnings from the local villagers, and the dark, violent past of the villa itself.
(Warning: May invoke feelings of irritation, dread, and despair that come with large family gatherings.)

By the author or Lute, one of my favourite books from last year. L'enfer, c'est les autres, says Jean-Paul Sartre. Hell is other people. Double that when the other people are your family. Honestly, this book would be terrifying even if the family gathering was the whole story. Anna is a prickly, unlikable character, which is completely understandable once you meet her family. The Italian setting lends an appropriate strangeness and alienation that adds to the age-old grudges and sensitivities in the family.