The stories in Roots of My Fears (edited by the talented Gemma Amor) , although fiction, read like deeply personal horrors, and, though quite distinct from one another, the feeling of voyeurism into the protagonists’ and, by proxy, the writers’ darkest minds and hearts carried throughout the collection - so much so that at times, I felt discomfort and dread which bordered on fear - and may have once or twice tipped over. 

How to Survive a Slasher by Justine Pucella Winans is a sweet coming of age story masquerading as a self-aware teen slasher novel - and it’s a solid read for both. 

The Bog Wife almost reads like a fairy tale, with its rich mythology and casual disregard for what we might consider "reality", but it's also a tale full of heart as the siblings - all characters with whom it is impossible not to empathize thanks to Chronister's care in developing them as the most "real" part of the book and fully three-dimensional - wrestle with their loyalty to each other, their parents, the land, and themselves when those loyalties are at odds.

I definitely recommend this for anyone who enjoys a teen slasher with diverse characters, humor, and a satisfying conclusion. 

Acquired Taste is Clay McLeod Chapman’s most nefarious work yet. He’s telling us right in the title what his diabolical plan is. We may not like that first sip of - I was going to say “beer”, but when you see his opening sentence, it’s something more like a dirty gin martini - but by the end of 25 stories, we’ll be slurring “shaken, not stirred” with the best of them, even though by then, we’ll know you want to stir it for better flavor. 

The Autumn Springs Retirement Home Massacre by Philip Fracassi is a perfect pairing of a solid mystery with slasher novel vibes including dark humor, gruesome kills, and a charming and relatable final girl - even if (or especially because) she is 50 years older than the ones we're used to.

An Echo for Children by Ramsey Campbell is a tense, slow-burn psychological horror with themes of trauma and cycles of abuse but at its heart is about family and what lengths we would go to to the protect the ones we love. 

The Burial Tide by Neil Sharpson is a chilling blend of folk and psychological horror, mystery, and Irish folklore. His prose is so descriptive, the novel practically played like a film, and with every new reveal, I changed my mind about what I thought was going on, right up to its perfect conclusion.

Summer in the House of the Departed By Josh Rountree is a haunting tale about grief and how it affects those left behind, and it’s a beautiful story about the bond between a boy and his grandmother and the stories they share, and spending a little time with them was a bittersweet pleasure. 

The Haunting had me guessing the whole time. Who is Edward? Who are the ghosts? Is William just having nightmares or night terrors? Also, who killed Teddy? And what about the other boys who’ve gone missing? Why is the village so against him living there? And the whole time he’s healing and maybe falling for Edward a little bit who’s also healing. 

The Maiden and Her Monster by Maddie Martinez is my favorite kind of fantasy novel - a mix of adventure and folklore with a touch of horror, a smidge of romance, and strong female main characters.

And these women have to be strong because they’ve got it coming from all sides.

The House of Idyll was a thrill ride - vicariously living the life that any creator dreams of while all the time thinking, “You in danger, girl.”

It’s well documented that I love a creepy forest (This Haunted Valley, Nowhere), and They Fear Not Men in the Woods has me once again reminding you, when you’re in the woods, If you heard something, NO, YOU DIDN’T!

Spread Me is the virus erotica horror we didn’t know we needed, and Sarah Gailey may find she’s started a whole new sub-genre.

A Game in Yellow by Hailey Piper has characters that are complex and not always likable, but they are compelling and feel like real people, and with Piper’s clever writing, we feel like we’re following Carmen down the rabbit hole, experiencing her obsession and madness with her, and it is a thrilling journey.

I have a couple of questions about We Are Always Tender with Our Dead. 

1. What the F did I just read? 

2. How does Eric LaRocca do it? Pulling at your heartstrings one moment, pulling your stomach out through your throat the next? 

3. Why is a story about whistling when crossing a threshold so chilling and sad? 

I couldn’t find any confirmation on the interwebs whether avuncular marriage was normal for the place and time, but their flirtation felt icky to me, though I got no indication from the text that this was an issue. 

Lotería by Cynthia Pelayo is an expanded edition of an earlier release, with 54 short stories that is very much like playing the lottery. They span genres and themes, time and locations; some are familiar bits of folklore with a twist, like La Llorona or the Loch Ness monster,  others are modern noir, others are ghost stories, etc.

I went into Black Flame by Gretchen Felker-Martin knowing little about it except that it was about a cursed film and, according to several people, I had to read it. They were right.

As the very good boy and at least part Australian cattle dog (just like my old girl Laika, also rescued from a shelter) alerts them almost immediately, evil is afoot.