What I read in august

 Annnnd... summer is basically over even though I swear it only just got here a few weeks ago. Sigh. The best months of the year fly by too fast. I'm not ready for sweater and blanket weather. 

For August, as fast as it felt like it went by, I managed to read an impressive 14 books, with one DNF (and one or two more that I probably should have DNFd looking back on them but too late for that, lol). 

Come check out what I liked and what I didn't, and let me know what you thought of them if you've read any....

Coffin Moon by Keith Rosson

First, a moment of silence for my youth—because apparently the 1970s are now “historical fiction.” I wasn’t prepared to process that, and frankly, I’m still recovering from the existential whiplash.

This is a modern vampire novel with a historical setting, and yes, that oxymoron works gloriously. It’s got the grit of a revenge thriller, the ache of a grief-soaked reckoning, and the pulse of a horror story that knows exactly when to bare its fangs. It’s bloody and tender and it’s coming for you—and it’s not asking permission.

Duane Minor is the kind of protagonist you root for with your whole chest. He’s a man trying to outrun his past, living a quiet life with his wife Heidi and their niece Julia. But when a crew of rough-looking men stroll into the bar he tends, led by a man who looked like he was after trouble, Duane makes the mistake of kicking them out. And that moment? That’s the match strike. And the fire that follows is brutal.

This story is fast, furious, and feral. It’s soaked in regret and revenge, but it never loses its heart. The pacing is relentless and Duane’s character arc? Chef’s kiss. He’s flawed, fierce, and unforgettable.

If you like your vampire fiction with bite, brains, and bruises, this one’s got all three... and then some.

A fave of the year!!

Welcome to Smileyland by Spencer Hamilton

A creepy, abandoned amusement park. A group of teens armed with beer, gas station snacks, and flashlights. What could possibly go wrong?

Welcome to Smileyland is a delightfully twisted final girl slasher with sharp queer representation and a killer sense of fun. Ramirez, a nonbinary military brat with zero interest in bonding, gets dragged along by a group of semi-friends to break into Smileyland—a rotting amusement park no one remembers. But Mister Smiley does. And his one rule? Absolutely, positively, never ever stop smiling.

This book is a blast. It’s bloody, it’s violent, it’s just creepy enough to keep you checking the shadows—and the characters? They were so relatable. I sort of cared about them, which made the carnage hit harder. It’s the kind of horror that knows exactly what it’s doing and has a wicked grin while doing it.

It’s all fun and games until the blood starts to flow.

Sister Funtime by Spencer Hamilton

Welcome, welcome, welcome Sister Funtime.

Every twisted theme park needs an origin story, and Smileyland’s is deliciously deranged. Before the cotton candy and creepy mascot, there was an orphanage. And inside that orphanage, there was Sister Eustice—better known as Sister Killjoy. She ran the place with the kind of grim devotion that makes you wonder if the rosary beads were for prayer or restraint.

Inside these pages: a nun who refuses to be bullied, a possessed crucifix, and something breathing in the dark corner of the basement that she's instructed never to enter. It’s creepy, it’s corny, and it’s exactly the kind of horror-camp cocktail I want more of.

Spencer Hamilton is building a universe where the grotesque and the goofy hold hands—and I’m already in line for the next ride.

Wake, Siren by Nina Maclaughlin

This. Freaking. Book.
Holy crap.

I’ve walked past this thing countless times at my favorite used bookstore, until my last trip there, when I finally snatched it up and brought it home.

Now, full disclosure: I know next to nothing about Greek mythology (seriously. I googled every name before diving into their stories), and I’ve never read Metamorphoses by Ovid. But these retellings? They slap.

Brutal. Modern. Fiercely feminist. These are stories with teeth, claws, and zero apologies. Blood soaked, rage fueled, and dripping with transformation. Nina gives these women voices, and fists, and they are not afraid to use them.

Go read this. Right now. You’ll be sorry if you don’t.

It gets all the stars.

Habitat by Case Q Kerns

DNFd at 43%

Now you know how rare and difficult this is for me... don't judge!

Case's book is marketed as a novel, but it’s really a collection of short stories... loosely connected at best. I mean, I made it nearly halfway through, and so far only one story seemed to brush up against another.

Did I not give it enough time? Do they all come crashing together towards the end??

The writing isn’t bad, and the stories themselves are fine. I just came in expecting a more cohesive narrative and ended up with something that felt more fragmented and abstract... a bit like Kawakami’s Under the Eye of the Big Bird, and not quite what I signed up for.

I was all in when I saw “body horror” and “dystopian sci-fi”, but what we're given is much tamer. Less visceral, more muted.

Not a bad book. Just not the book I thought I was getting.

The First Thousand Trees by Premee Mohamed

In a surprising shift, the final installment of this fungal fiction, post-apocalyptic series centers not on Reid, but on Henryk. Left behind when Reid departs for Howse University, Henryk is adrift—isolated from the community, haunted by the guilt of the pig hunt gone wrong, and desperate for connection. He does the one thing he thought he would never do, and sets out on his own with a hand drawn map to visit his uncle Dex, his last surviving relative.

But Sprucedown offers little solace. Henryk’s awkward, anxious nature only deepens his sense of alienation, and his attempts to fit in seem to push others further away. That is, until a routine “fire drill” leaves him stranded in the woods—where he encounters a group of raiders with their sights set on breaking in.

Forget Cad, the fungal parasite embedded in most survivors. Forget Reid, the friend who once shielded him from bullies and chaos. If Henryk wants to survive, he’ll have to find the fight within himself.

Mohamed conjures a world that feels both refreshingly original and steeped in familiar post-apocalyptic resonance. There are shades of Earth Abides in its quiet devastation, and yes, the Walking Dead parallels surface—mostly in the bleak terrain and isolated communities—but trust me when I say... this series stands firmly on its own.

This is a story of outcasts carving out space in a fractured world. A story of rebuilding, even when redemption feels out of reach. And it brings this series to a satisfying, unexpectedly subtle close.

The Witch of Willow Sound by Vanessa F Penney

Nothing like a killer cover and a knockout prologue to pull this reader in!

The book opens with a witch-burning—deliciously dark, atmospheric, and haunting. While this scene resurfaces later in the story, we quickly shift into what feels more like cozy horror territory, following our badass heroine, Fade. At her mother’s urging, Fade heads to her estranged Aunt Madeline’s cottage after reports surface that Madeline has gone missing.

Set in a small Nova Scotian town, rumors of the Witch of Willow Sound swirl around Fade, who’s instantly pegged as an outsider and, inconveniently, the spitting image of her aunt. The locals aren’t exactly welcoming. They blame Madeline for everything from bad luck to the ominous storm brewing just offshore.

When Fade arrives at the cottage, things feel... off. The house is crumbling, coated in dust, and the guest room she remembers from childhood has been torn apart. The bookshelf that once lined the wall is gone—replaced by a strange, terrifying door that definitely wasn’t there before.
Where does the door lead? And why is everyone so convinced her aunt was a witch?

Determined to find Madeline before the authorities start tearing things apart, Fade teams up with a visiting archivist named Nish. Together, they begin to unearth buried family secrets, hidden cellars, and the burned remains of... someone.

Cozy horror meets creeping folklore in a tale that’s strangely addictive, layered with chummy banter ('go 'way!' 'I will not!') and just enough twists and turns to keep you guessing up to the very end.

Incidents Around The House by Josh Malerman

Look. I loved Bird Box. Absolutely lost my shit over how friggen good it was. It was my first Malerman, and no matter how many I read, none come close. They just don’t.

This one came closer than most, if I can forgive the audio narration. Listening to an adult play a child? Grating. The story started off creepy and intriguing, but the repetition wore me down fast. Also, I'm worried my threshold for what's scary is higher than most peoples because I wasn't terrified.

And please, authors—can we stop using infidelity as a character plot point? It’s tired, it’s triggering, and it’s almost always the woman. Have you noticed?

And c’mon, we all saw that ending coming from a mile away, right? All that buildup... just to land exactly where I didn’t want it to.

No. Bitch. You cannot go into my heart.

Sister Creatures by Laura Venita Green

Sooo... calling non linear, interconnected stories a novel is, like, a thing now?

I just DNF’d Habitat over that recent disappointment, and I came thiiiissss close to DNFing this one too. I wasn’t in the mood for a story collection—I wanted a novel. A real one. And the cover and description made it seem like that’s what I was getting. I feel duped. But then again, I'm also a sucker because I'm the one who requested the review copy. I've gotta read the jacket copy more closely going foward.

The stories? Meh. Some had a weird vibe, some were painfully straightforward. A kid from one story randomly shows up as an adult in another. A creepy hemp doll keeps making the rounds. Crappy people stay crappy. Unhappy people stay unhappy. Rinse and repeat.

This trend of slapping “novel” on a story collection just because a few characters overlap? I'm not digging it. Novels are immersive and character-driven, and allow me to actually follow someone’s arc and get invested... to feel something.

Instead, I got a handful of snapshots and a lot of emotional static.

From the Wreck by Jane Rawson

Gorgeous cover. Amazing read. All the stars!

Might contain spoilers so tread lightly...

This fictionalized account of the horrific Amdella steamship wreck—where survivors clung to flotsam for eight grueling days, near death, watching rescue attempts fail again and again—is written by the actual great-great-granddaughter of George, one of the few true survivors, who lived to tell the tale.

The story unfolds through three perspectives: George, the haunted survivor; Henry, his son, born with a strange mark and an obsession with death; and Bridget Ledwith, the mysterious woman who clung to George during the wreck, keeping him safe and warm, and promptly disappearing into thin air once they were rescued.

Back on solid ground, George tries to live a normal life: marriage, children, routine. But he’s consumed by the memory of Bridget, convinced she’s cursed him. When his firstborn arrives with an odd mark on his back, George becomes obsessed with finding her, desperate to understand what she’s done to him.

Henry, meanwhile, is a strange, sensitive boy who believes his birthmark—affectionately named Mark—can speak to him, whispering eerie truths and facts about the world.

And then there’s the third voice: Bridget/Mark’s perspective. Cosmic, curious, and deeply fascinating, this entity longs to connect with others like itself, weaving a thread of otherworldly wonder through the narrative.

Beneath the waves, it waited... and it knows their names. Oceanic mysteries paired with cosmic wonder? Oooh yeah!

This book was so much more than I expected. It went places I never anticipated. And I absolutely loved it!

Spread Me by Sarah Gailey

Phew! Viral erotica anyone?

I love Sarah Gailey. I’ve genuinely enjoyed everything I’ve read by them, and this book was one of my most anticipated of the year. But… it’s uhm… a little too kinky for me. And if you read the title and jacket copy closely, you’ll see they’re not exactly hiding it.

This one’s far steamier than Gailey’s previous work—but in the strangest ways. Set at a remote research station in the middle of a desert, in a near-future world reeling from yet another pandemic, Kinsey and her team make a thrilling, and deeply unsettling, discovery: there’s life out there in the sand. And now that it’s been disturbed, it’s looking for a way in… and it’s fixated on Kinsey.

It doesn’t help that the virus has an uncanny ability to mimic and replicate. Before long, the team begins to suspect that one—or all—of them have become infected.

Expect heavy nods to The Thing, a generous helping of masturbation, and some truly inventive body horror. It’s weird, it’s wild, and it’s definitely not shy.

I feel like the marketing team missed out on a great tagline (coughcough). "It wants in. And it's learning how to turn you on."

The Salvage by Anbara Salam

In keeping with my recent obsession with watery fiction—first The Burial Tide by Neil Sharpson and Reef Mind by Hazel Zorn, then The Terror TV series and From the Wreck by Jane Rawson, and now 1899—The Salvage by Anbara Salam continues to scratch that itch something fierce.

Marta is a recovery diver, summoned to the remote coastal island of Cairnroch by the Purdie family after they’ve had an ancestral Victorian shipwreck hauled from the Arctic Ocean to their quiet corner of the world. As an outsider, Marta is met with frosty indifference from the locals. Her goal is simple: retrieve the captain’s remains and any valuables still clinging to the wreck, then get out.

But on her first dive, while cataloging the ship’s submerged chambers, she glimpses a dark figure hunched in a corner, watching her. Panicked, she flees to the surface.

When she returns to the depths, ready to salvage the items, she finds many of them missing. Unwilling to admit to a possible theft on her watch, Marta bargains for more time and enlists Elsie—a hotel worker she’s quite drawn to—to help uncover who stole the artifacts and reclaim them before the next ferry arrives.

All the while, that shadow seems to follow her across the island, forcing Marta to confront a past she’s tried desperately to bury. And as the mystery deepens, so does her connection with Elsie.

This is a slow-burning, atmospheric, sapphic horror story—less jump scares, more creeping dread and quiet unease. It lingers like sea mist and leaves you chilled.

We Are Always Tender With Our Dead by Eric LaRocca

This book is a wretched little thing, isn't it? I wanted to like it, I really did. It promised so much but the writing just failed to deliver. Listen, tell me this doesn't sound amazing...

We’re dropped into the eerie town of Burnt Sparrow, which has just suffered a horrific massacre—the dead left sprawled in the streets, the surviving residents assigned to watch over the corpses in shifts. And when the three faceless strangers are captured, the town’s wealthiest resident offers his basement as a site of punishment—an underground chamber for endless, unspeakable torment.

Into this fevered nightmare stumbles Rupert, a teenage boy caught in the middle of communal rage and personal trauma. As he bears witness to grotesque acts of retribution, Rupert is forced to confront the ghosts of his own past as well as the skeletons of those around him —whether he’s ready or not.

The massacre is only the beginning.

"It's sad to think how a corpse is very often worth more than a living thing. At least there's some value left in a dead body, however little, however insignificant. But what becomes of us when even the dead have little meaning? Perhaps that's when the world finally and truly rots. Either way, I'd give anything to watch this godforsaken place burn to the ground."

I loved Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke. LaRocca shines brightest when he leans into nontraditional, experimental body horror—when the prose is jagged, intimate, and unrelenting. We Are Always Tender With Our Dead could have been so much more effective if it embraced that fragmented style: a series of vignettes and interludes, each one tight and punchy, with sharp paragraphs that bite and sting. Instead, the narrative here feels stretched thin, its horror diluted by structure. LaRocca’s best work doesn’t explain—it breathes and bleeds.

Shitshow by Chris Panatier

Oooh... this one was so much fun.

Just a dude named Sunday, taking care of his moms, who’s battling early onset dementia, and working a truly shitty job. Literally. He vacuums porta-potty poop water for a living. Things are going pretty okay until he’s delayed on one of his rounds at a fairground crawling with cops, all searching for a teenage couple who vanished at the carnival the night before.

Once they give him the all-clear, Sunday gets the hose and starts sucking... until something jams the nozzle. He’s used to fishing out garbage, so he figures it’s just another potato chip bag. Only... it’s someone’s face. Or rather, the skin of someone’s face.

Now it’s a crime scene. The porta-potty is officially evidence, and Sunday’s stuck hauling it away after signing for chain of custody. With nowhere else to dump it, he brings it home, along with a giant stuffed rabbit someone left behind near the toilets.

As missing persons reports pile up across county lines—all of them last seen at fairs and festivals, all heading for the crapper—Sunday starts to suspect something diabolical. And when his mom disappears, he decides to take matters into his own hands.

What follows is a wild, weird ride that leads him to a local museum run by the descendant of a dark carnival. From there, all hell breaks loose. It’s pure brain candy: fun, tropey, twisted, and surprisingly tender in all the right places.

To quote the author: “It’s like Doctor Who, except the Tardis is a shitter.”

Glad I got to read this one on the eve-eve-eve of its release!

The 40 But 10: Matthew Roy Davey

I've pulled together 40ish questions - some bookish, some silly - and have asked authors to limit themselves to answering only 10 of them. That way, it keeps the interviews fresh and connectable for all of us!

Today we are joined by Matthew Roy Davey. Matthew’s short stories have won The Observer short story competition, and the Dark Tales short story competition, as well as being short and long listed in numerous competitions. He was also nominated for a Pushcart Prize. His work has been translated into Mandarin and Slovenian and been included in various anthologies. Carol Anne Duffy wrote, in The Sunday Telegraph, that Davey’s short story Waving at Trains was “bleakly poised and moving” and that it “perfectly captures the cadences of youth”. Davey has also written two Young Adult novels which are available on Amazon. He lives in Bristol, UK, and has no hobbies.

Why do you write?

I write because it amuses me to do so. I’m not a tortured artiste! If you’re not enjoying your own writing, I don’t know how you can expect anyone else to read it. Having said that, there are times when I find it a dreary and laborious process, but those often turn out to be the best bits in a longer work, so what do I know? I do know that if I’m creating, whether that be writing, painting, drawing, photography or woodwork, I feel a lot better.

What made you start writing?

At school my favourite activity was when the teacher told us to write a story. I loved the power and freedom of being able to bring something out of nothing. But it was also the praise I got from people who read it. Children can usually tell when enthusiasm is feigned. As an adult I would like to not care what people think of my efforts, and I try to be indifferent, but it matters enormously.

Would you and your main character(s) get along?

The ones who are thinly disguised versions of me, definitely not. Most of my characters are pretty flawed individuals, as we all are, and there are some I might be able to tolerate for a short while. I’m not much of a people person. I have six friends. Quite a few of the characters in ‘Shhh!’ are killers, psychopaths and ne’er-do-wells, so I’m sure we’d have a swell time together.

If you could cast your characters in a movie, which actors would play them and why?

I’d want to squeeze in Jennifer Jason Lee, Tim Roth, Julia Garner, Clarke Peters, Vincent Cassell, Daniel Day Lewis, Forest Whitaker, Carey Mulligan, Tilda Swinton, Michaela Cole, Emma Stone, Willem Defoe, Amanda Siegfried, and Christian Bale. That’s a reasonable request, right? The non-British actors would have to be able to do a convincing British accent, as most of my stories take place on the island.

What are some of your favorite books and/or authors?

Jerome K Jerome, Samuel Beckett, Flannery O’Connor, Robert Harris, J G Farrell, Toni Morrison, Flann O’Brien, Macdonald Harris, Bill Naughton, Malcolm Lowry.

What genres won’t you read?

I don’t like fantasy. It’s hard enough believing in reality without bringing in things that have not, will not and could not exist. For me it’s as boring as hearing about other people’s dreams (unless I’m in them). Having said that, I love allegorical tales like The Life of Pi, Charlie Kauffman’s films, and so on. Even the original Star Wars films are alright at a pinch.

You have to choose an animal or cartoon character that best represents you. Which is it and why?

Any animal that hibernates.

Are you a toilet paper over or under kind of person?

Over. It’s the only way. This is a deal breaker in a relationship. I have written about this in poetic form and in my latest novel. It is of crucial importance.

If you were on death row, what would your last meal be?

It depends on the method of execution. If it was the electric chair, I would have uncooked popcorn so that I could entertain the witnesses.

What’s the weirdest thing you’ve given/received as a gift?

I received an electronic vagina from a so-called friend. It was not well-received. You can read more about it in my story ‘Electric Lady Love’ which appears in ‘Shhh!’.

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Purchase your copy here. 

Welcome to the flash fiction library where the shelves are groaning with bitesize fiction.

 

Libraries are quiet places, ordered places, places of intellect, culture and civilisation. But hiding inside are words that can explode like bombs, words to anger and appal, to titillate and tease, words to amuse and entertain. Which will you choose to read first?

 

Matthew Roy Davey offers us a wealth of bijou tales in his perfectly formed Shhh!

 

The collection is a disparate one, organised by theme and subject, much like a library. Rather than read from start to finish, you ‘take out’ a story depending on your mood.

 

The Page 69 Test: Settle Down

Disclaimer: The Page 69 Test is not mine. It has been around since 2007, asking authors to compare page 69 against the meat of the actual story it is a part of. I loved the whole idea of it and so I'm stealing it specifically to showcase small press titles - novels, novellas, short story collections, the works! So until the founder of The Page 69 Test calls a cease and desist, let's do this thing....

 

In this installment of Page 69, 

we put Ritt Deitz's Settle Down to the test

Set up page 69 for us

Kenny McLuher is the protagonist.  Page 69 takes place in the basement of the protagonist’s coworker, Wayne, a townie who works as a cook in the University of Virginia catering service where Kenny, a student and history major from Wisconsin who is about to graduate and return to the Midwest, has a part-time job.  Wayne likes Kenny and has invited him to join Wayne and his lifelong pal Fats Trustell, in a game of “Dungeon Lord,” a role-playing game that Wayne has adapted from the more famous Dungeons and Dragons, so that Wayne can wield more power as the game master calling all the shots.  This page happens after the reader has become familiar with Kenny’s mostly failed attempts to understand, or at least to fit in with, the American South. 

What Settle Down is about

Settle Down will speak to anyone finishing college and wondering where to start their ‘real life’ or anyone reflecting back on a time when ‘home’ felt like a choice they had to make.  It’s also a novel about growing up the child of migrant parents who have come from a very different part of the country, in a family of gifted storytellers.  Ultimately, it’s about the stories we tell about ourselves and how we make sense of our world and where we belong.”

Do you think this page gives our readers an accurate sense of what the book is about? How does it align itself with the book’s theme?

I think so, in a couple of ways.  First, this page pulsates with a slightly comedic energy readers will find in other interacts Kenny has with friends, family and even strangers.  (It should feel like the comedy we encounter regularly in real life, in situations where people encounter strangers who know each other, then converse with them.  Recently in a YMCA whirlpool I was engaged in a situation with two very tight-lipped and serious elderly women who shared some concerns about sandhill cranes and their role in the “ecosystem,” after which another older man sitting across from them said, apropos of who knows what, “I just saw this video about how a raccoon can drown a golden retriever.”) 

Like the witness to scenes like this one in the hot tob, Kenny is a little hapless, often coming into a situation thinking one thing is going to happen but only to find it’s something else entirely—and then trying to roll with it, to give it a chance.  We have also just learned that Fats is Black (Wayne, his best friend, is white), which creates an unusual response in Kenny, an earnest liberal Midwesterner trying to sort out what he has been taught about race while not judging, generalizing, or categorizing people—but simultaneously trying to learn how to pronounce the name of the fantasy warrior he has just been assigned to play in this game of imagination. 

Finally, we get a sense of the dialogue and of how regionally and age-specific it can be in this book.  Accents are quite important in the story, and in who Kenny thinks belongs where and why.

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Page 69

Settle Down

“So, yeah, um,” said Kenny, not yet sure if he should sit down, “you guys known each other for a while, then, um…?” He was unsure if he had heard the guy’s name right.
     “Fats,” said Fats.
     “Yeah, um. Fats,” said Kenny, shifting in his chair.
     “I know,” said Fats, grinning. “It’s kind of a funny name, for a dude my age at least. Kind of like a older guy’s name.”
     “I guess that’s true,” said Kenny.
     The introductions done with, Wayne sat down to his duties. Installed on a folding chair, he began doing something with dice and paper, behind a black cardboard screen decorated with a Van Halen logo that looked like a salvaged tenth-grade art project.
     “I rolled your character, Kenny. For the rest of the game, you are Gawain Deathslayer, fighter-wizard of Berg Krocken. Fats’s character is Nor-Fer, Ring Thief. Also of Berg Krocken.”    
     “Gawain and Nor-Fer,” said Kenny, slowly, testing the pronunciation of the names.
     “It’s actually a honor, Wayne,” said Fats, his head tilting a little sideways. “Fats Domino. Minnesota Fats. Think about it. Like, musicians, and probably your gangster here and there, too. You know, in the past.”
     Wayne rolled a die methodically behind the screen, “If I was a gangster, they’s no way I’d call myself Fats. It’s like saying, Hey, y’all should chase me down and catch me after we rob this bank, ‘cause I’m fat and slow.”
     “You don’t get it, man. It’s like a honor.”
     “You already done said that.”
     “That’s ‘cause you didn’t grasp it the first time.”
     Wayne remained focused on whatever he was working on behind the Van Halen screen. He rolled another die.
     Kenny was unsure what was supposed to happen next. “Do I get some kind of sheet to study, or refer to, or whatever?”
     “What about Baby Face Nelson then?” said Fats, looking up from his sheet of paper at Wayne.

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Ritt Deitz teaches French at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. An accomplished songwriter and musician, he is also a Kentucky Colonel and a Knight in France’s Order of Academic Palms.

About the book: 

Releases 9/16/25

A college kid endowed with hypnotic powers keeps telling himself there’s got to be more

waiting for him after graduation than family in the neighborhood and an okay catering job. Maybe he just needs to get his story straight.

Kenny McLuher is far from his native Wisconsin, in his last year at the University of Virginia, majoring in history with no idea what he’s going to do with it. At his catering job, Kenny’s old Southern folktales keep putting his co-workers to sleep, and in Kenny’s dreams President Abraham Lincoln sure seems to be trying to tell him something.

Maybe the pieces will come back together after graduation when Kenny returns to Madison, where he can ask the big question: What is home, anyway?

Indie Ink Runs Deep: Megan Okonsky and The Barefoot Followers of Sweet Potato Grace

 

Every now and then I manage to talk a small press author into showing us a little skin... tattooed skin, that is. I know there are websites and books out there that have been-there-done-that already, but I hadn't seen one with a specific focus on the authors and publishers of the small press community. Whether it's the influence for their book, influenced by their book, or completely unrelated to the book, we get to hear the story behind their indie ink....

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Today's ink story comes from Megan Okonsky, whose novel The Barefoot Followers of Sweet Potato Grace releases today! 

Indie Ink Runs Deep: Megan Okonsky

 

Recently, one of my in-laws asked me to tell the story of my tattoos. The sun was going down on the beach, and I have 15 tattoos, so I told him to choose between New Zealand, Canada, Thailand, Argentina, Indonesia, Texas, or Philadelphia. I’ve gotten at least one tattoo in each of these places, so I hoped his choice would narrow down which story I would tell.

 

I could do a similar thing with books and movies. While many of my tattoos are souvenirs from the places I’ve traveled, others are souvenirs of times in my life when a book changed my perspective or opened up the world. Since I’m celebrating the release of my debut novel (should I be getting a tattoo of The Barefoot Followers of Sweet Potato Grace?) I’ll stick with books.

 

What would you like to read about first? The story of a politician in the South? A writer taking a road trip across the US? Or a cowgirl with very large thumbs?

 

All The King’s Men: One of the two rose tattoos I have includes a little spider web. When I saw it on the flash sheet, I knew I had to get it. I had always wanted a spiderweb tattoo, but not in the “I’ve been to prison” way, because that would not be authentic to my story. I like the idea of a spider web tattoo because I read All the King’s Men in my senior year of high school and was always drawn to Robert Penn Warren’s description of the world as a spider web. It feels cautionary and freeing at the same time. This is a forgotten classic—one I haven’t read since high school—and one that I would be cautiously curious to revisit.

 

On the Road: I have a blurry little tattoo on my bicep that says “the mad ones,” because I didn’t have enough room for the full quote. I first found this quote (cringe) on the back of a Hallmark card when I was working there in high school. Around the same time, I had read Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night for the first time. I could hear the call of the Beat writers telling me to go out and live a full life. Their encouragement brought me to Philly from my small town of Doylestown, to Europe after I graduated college, and to the rest of the world. I recently brought the ARC of The Barefoot Followers of Sweet Potato Grace to Jack Kerouac’s old haunt in San Francisco; it felt like a blessing of sorts.

 

Even Cowgirls Get the Blues: My cowgirl tattoo is named Sissy Hankshaw, and she’s an homage to both the wonderful time I’ve spent in Texas and the adoration I have for Tom Robbins’s prose. Both, as one can imagine, are complicated feelings. Texas is Texas and Tom Robbins is Tom Robbins. There is a lot of -phobia and -ism that I wish I could wash away from their laws and their writing. At least with Tom Robbins, I can say, “Times were different back then,” however weak of an argument it is. Texas? It’s 2025 and your government’s still a mess.

 

I suppose I should get a tattoo that speaks to the journey I’ve taken so far with The Barefoot Followers of Sweet Potato Grace, but seeing as the book comes out in a week, I don’t exactly know where that journey is going to take me…yet!

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The Barefoot Followers of Sweet Potato Grace on Bookshop.org

Tombstone, Texas, has never seen anything like the barefoot travelers who barrel in one afternoon, looking like they just stepped out of the seventies. They appear right in the middle of Pinky Elizabeth Swear’s eulogy for her beloved rescue cat, Sweet Potato Grace (may she rest in eternal peace and abundance of goat cheese). To be honest, Pinky is relieved at the interruption. She’d planned to use the second half of her eulogy to come out of the closet. Now, she doesn’t have to.

Are the newcomers a circus troupe? Revolutionaries? A sinister cult? While the town grows suspicious and rumor mills churn, Pinky finds herself drawn to the charisma of the barefoot strangers. Perhaps, she starts to think, the wrath of Tombstone is a thing worth risking in order to be true to oneself.

Megan Okonsky is a ghostwriter, novelist, and murder mystery party host. Known for her conversational voice and wit, Okonsky specializes in helping business leaders uncover their "hero's journey." As a novelist, she writes about cats and queer joy. Her work has appeared in Reductress and Mantra Wellness. She lives in Austin, Texas, with her wife and their cat, Funny Business.

Find out more about Megan here: Substack     |     Instagram     |     Website

The Audio Series: Playback

 

Today, Carla Malden joins us and reads an excerpt from her recently released novel Playback. Our audio series "The Authors Read. We Listen." was originally hatched in a NYC club during BEA back in 2012. It's a fun little series, where authors record themselves reading an excerpt from their own novels, in their own voices, the way their stories were meant to be heard.

Raised in Los Angeles, Carla Malden began her career working in motion picture production and development before becoming a screenwriter. Along with her father, Academy Award winning actor Karl Malden, she co-authored his critically acclaimed memoir When Do I Start? Carla’s feature writing has appeared in the Los Angeles Times, highlighting the marvels and foibles of Southern California and Hollywood. She sits on the Board of the Geffen Playhouse. Her previous novels include Search Heartache, Shine Until Tomorrow, and My Two and Only. Carla Malden lives in Brentwood with her husband, ten minutes (depending on traffic) from her daughter.

Released August 12th

Rare Bird

Click on the soundlink below to hear Carla reading a snippet from her novel.

TNBBC · Playback Excerpt Reading p21 - 8_3_25

About the book:

In Carla Malden's newest novel, PLAYBACK, Mari is disillusioned and overwhelmed by her uninspiring job, recent divorce, and the stress of single parenting her young daughter. Then a twist of fate plunges her decades into the past, back to the pinnacle of Hippie culture: Haight-Ashbury of 1967. With PLAYBACK, Malden spins a propulsive tale: one that shines light on a seminal time in American history, the disquietude of our current moment, and the timeless love of a mother for her child.

What I Read in July

 What kind of a month was that? It flew by in like two days. I want time to slow down a little so I can enjoy the summer before it up and leaves us again....

Somehow I managed to read 12 books, DNFing one of those, and I'm not mad about it. Come see what they were and what I thought about them. Have you read any of these? 

This Cruise Sucks by Nico Bell

This book was the perfect “plant yourself on the patio and revel in the fact that you’re not adrift at sea” kind of summer read. Think fruity cocktail in one hand, bug zapper in the other, and a silent prayer that there are no colossal carnivorous calamari in your zip code.

Set aboard a cruise ship slicing through open ocean, Tori and Nora—two hilariously self-assured, body-positive rockstars—are prepping to open for Vampire Weekend. But when a massive, bloodthirsty vampire squid rises from the depths and turns the deck into a splatterfest buffet, the glam gig turns into a gory survival showdown.

The body count may be high, but it’s the razor-sharp sarcasm that really leaves a mark. Equal parts horror romp and dark comedy delight, this novelette had me grinning through the gore. It’s high-octane, deep-sea drama with a pulse of pure punk. I devoured it like a ravenous beast from the briny deep. More, please.

If you're into books with high campy horror vibes, like the ones Danger Slater, Stephen Kozeniewski, and Brian Allen Carr write, you should get Nico Bell on your radar.

Those Across the River by Christopher Buehlman

I originally picked up this book thinking it was going to serve me slow-burn folk horror—bonfires, cryptic rituals, moody forests, the whole shebang. So there it sat. Gathering dust. Until I saw a review from @aprilsbookishlife and—plot twist—it’s not folk horror at all, you guuuuys, it’s WEREWOLF horror. I’ve had a werewolf book hiding in my TBR for months and didn’t even know it. What cryptic rock have I been living under?

And guess what? It’s really good. Don’t let the slow, humid Southern buildup scare you off. It lingers a bit in the “setting the scene” zone, but all that mood building pays off. The second half sinks its claws in —sharp turns, eerie reveals, full-moon mayhem.

What you need to know: a guy inherits his aunt’s old house along with a letter basically screaming “do not move in.” Naturally, he does, dragging his young wife along to write a book about his infamous great-grandfather—an unrepentant plantation owner brutally murdered by the enslaved people he refused to free. And now that he's started digging, he finds the past isn’t buried—it’s got teeth.

What unfolds is eerie and bloody, steeped in small-town decay, ancestral secrets, and killer foreshadowing. Do not read under a full moon. Side effects may include paranoia, fascination with legacy curses, and sudden urge to check your lineage.

Brat by Gabriel Smith

#bookstagram, you played me again.

I picked this up expecting… something more. But what I got was yet another cranky, down on his luck narrator—moody, messy, mid-meltdown. He’s mourning his dad, nursing a breakup, squatting in his late father’s house under the guise of “fixing it up,” but mostly just trashing it and driving his family up the wall.

There’s a whiff of weirdness—skin allegedly peeling off in strips, manuscripts magically rewriting themselves? I’m thinking it's more unreliable narrator with a side of self-inflicted chaos. The vibes are more existential trash fire than supernatural. He drinks, does drug, isolates, and waxes poetic about how much his life sucks. It’s less descent into madness, more wallowing in it.

Stylistically, it’s in the Sam Pink, Bud Smith, Brian Allan Ellis vein, but without bringing anything really fresh to the table. Mildly entertaining, thoroughly dramatic, best consumed with a grain of salt and maybe a wellness check.

How to Fall in Love in a Time of Unnameable Disaster

I hadn’t heard of this one until a fellow Goodreadser added it to our group's Afghan Whigs Reading Challenge (which you should absolutely check out, by the way). The premise immediately hooked me: an apocalyptic cli-fi novel where acid rainstorms trap NYC residents in their haunted apartments? How could I possibly say no?

When the rains begin, protagonist Mira makes the wrenching decision to leave her girlfriend Mal and return to her mother’s home. Not long after arriving, she learns her old apartment was destroyed by fire. Grieving and unsure whether Mal survived, Mira begins broadcasting a pirate radio show on love and loss—threading secret messages into each broadcast in case Mal is still out there, listening. Her grief draws her toward Sad, her headless neighbor, who’s mourning a loved one of his own.

This novel is a strange, compelling slow burn that explores the endurance of love, the ache of loss, and the haunted liminal space between them. Where do the dead go when they die? And if you could call them back—would you?

Come for the acid rain, stay for the ghostly heartbreak.

Also, here's the link to the Reading Challenge, if you like creative ways to track and diversify your reading - https://www.goodreads.com/topic/group_folder/494392?group_id=1218

Freakslaw by Jane Flett

Well, that took a dark turn fast, didn’t it?

I was a little worried when I started this one. The beginning felt a bit sloggy and the writing took some getting used to... but once I settled in, it really took off. And let’s be honest - who doesn’t love a good carnie novel?

Set in the 1990s in the small, conservative Scottish town of Pitlaw—a place with its own buried secrets—a traveling freakshow sets up camp in a vacant field. The locals clutch their pearls at the incoming “degenerates”, scandalized by the velvet-clad oddities invading their quiet lives. But the sounds and smells soon lure them in.

At its center are Gloria, a fortune teller with a taste for vengeance, and her daughter Nancy, a contortionist with witchy talents. Their arrival isn’t just a performance. It’s an omen. They aren’t just here to entertain... they’re here to settle a score. And by the time the curtain falls, Pitlaw will be irrevocably changed.

Like the best carnival fiction, this novel is teeming with oddball misfits, queer sensuality, and a wicked undercurrent. It's strange, seductive, and sinister—in all the right ways.

Step right up—revenge is the real sideshow.

American Mythology by Giano Cromley

Full disclosure: I love Giano Cromley. I've worked with him on a few of his previous titles and I love cryptid fiction, so when I saw this was releasing, it was an absolute no-brainer. I had to have it.

Montana locals Jute and Vergil are overheard at St. Pete’s Tavern discussing plans for a Basic Bigfoot Society expedition. Renowned Bigfoot expert Dr. Marcus Bernard leans over and promptly invites himself along. He’s accompanied by Vicky Xu, a young graduate student filming a documentary about him, and Jute and Vergil can’t believe their luck. But Bernard’s intentions may not be entirely noble and when Vergil’s daughter Rye hears about the trip, she insists on joining—not for the squatch hunt, but to protect her dad and Uncle Jute from potential embarrassment and exploitation.

What began as a modest two-man search for the elusive North American Woodape and the mythical Ramsey Lake quickly evolves into a ragtag crew of misfits, each driven by their own reasons—some chasing proof, others seeking to debunk it. As they venture deeper into the wilderness, they’re forced to confront painful truths from their pasts while pursuing one of the most haunted and hunted cryptids in American folklore.

At its core, American Mythology is a Bigfoot story, sure. But it’s also about having the courage to chase what you believe in. It’s about surrendering to grief. And it’s about the relentless pursuit of truth, no matter the cost.

Some things you chase. Others chase you.

This one gets all the stars!

Vampires at Sea by Lindsay Merbaum

So cruise horror is becoming a thing and I highly recommend everyone read some while on vacation this summer. It's fun, it's low commitment, and 99.9% of the time, your vacation will be better than their vacation. Or at least, that will definitely be the case with Vampires at Sea.

Love bites. Especially on a luxury liner.

Rebekah and Hugh are ancient, sexually fluid vampires who sign up for a two-week cruise to unwind. What better way to feed than aboard a floating buffet of horny queer passengers trapped in the middle of the ocean? It’s indulgent, decadent, and delicious.

At least, it was—until they cross paths with Heaven, a magical, nonbinary influencer with a mysterious allure. Heaven has eyes only for Hugh, and despite Rebekah’s sultry attempts to intervene, Hugh falls hard. Rebekah, consumed by jealousy, spirals into a sex-and-feeding frenzy while trying to expose Heaven for what they truly are: something dangerous, possibly otherworldly, and definitely not part of the cruise itinerary.

It’s a bloody good time, with literally no gore, even when it loses its head a little.

The Bus on Thursday by Shirley Barrett

This was an impulse buy from a used bookstore. I hadn’t seen anyone reading it, but the publisher and cover caught my eye, and the jacket copy sealed the deal.

I tore through this deliciously bizarre novel in nearly one sitting, sprawled out in the passenger seat as my husband and I drove back from vacation. I didn’t want to put it down. From page one, I was sucked in and absolutely needed to know what in God’s name was going on.

Eleanor is a wildly unreliable narrator with a wicked sense of humor and a laundry list of traumas. She’s reeling from a bad breakup, recovering from breast cancer and a mastectomy, unemployed, and reluctantly living with her mother again. Life’s bleak, until she lands what seems like a dream gig: teaching a small group of kids in the isolated Australian town of Talbingo. We read along through her journal entries as she documents what feels, at first, like a fresh start.

But as she start settling in, things start eating at her again. Talbingo is quiet. Too quiet. The locals are off-kilter, the teacher she’s replacing has vanished without a trace, and the town priest suspects something more than cancer has sunk its teeth into Eleanor.

As her stay stretches on, things twist further into the uncanny—until we’re left asking: is Eleanor alright? Inner and outer demons twinkle at the edges, and Eleanor’s cheeky persona does its best to mask the misery gnawing at her. The town is strange... but Eleanor might be stranger.

Fans of grief fiction, weird fiction, and the sad-girl fiction will have an absolute blast with this one. Don’t let it skate under your radar like it nearly did mine.

The Burial Tide by Neil Sharpson

The publisher's description of the book had me running over to netgalley to request a copy asap: A woman who can’t remember her death. An island with a terrible secret. A past that refuses to stay buried. But the sea remembers it all.

I mean… folklore, isolation, and revenge soaked in brine and blood? Don’t mind if I do.

The novel kicks off with a literal buried alive scenario—Mara wakes in a coffin and claws her way out into breathless uncertainty. She remembers nothing: not her name, not her death, and certainly not why the locals insist she belongs six feet under. Everyone seems eager to fill in the blanks, but something about their stories feels... off. Like the truth is bending just out of reach.

The island of Inishbannock is equal parts remote and rotting. The air hums with old grief and older curses, the villagers are harboring dark secrets, and as Mara searches for answers, she begins to wonder if she's not at the center of it all.

I devoured this in nearly a single sitting. The writing slinks under your skin, the mystery grips hard, and the claustrophobic setting gnaws at every page. The payoff was every bit as brutal as the buildup, if not slightly weirder than I had expected.

I wasn’t sold on Knock, Knock, Open Wide, but I’m so glad I gave him another shot. This book enchanted and unsettled me.

Unsettled Ground by Claire Fuller

This book was quietly loud. The silences between characters deafening. Every unspoken word deceptively devastating.

Twin siblings Julian and Jeanie lost their father as teens. Sheltered from the world and tucked away in a crumbling cottage with their mother Dot, they have spent decades wrapped in routine—Jeanie housebound with a weak heart, Julian scraping by with odd jobs to keep things afloat. Now, at fifty-one, they’ve lost their mother too.

Her body barely in the ground, unsettling truths begin to surface. Beneath the whimsical veneer of their secluded life, Dot was keeping secrets that threaten everything they thought was theirs. Now they’re left scrambling to hold on to what little remains.

This is a story about the quiet extremes a mother will go to in order to keep her children close—and the ugliness that festers when truth is buried deep. Dig long enough, and it always finds its way to the light.

Think The Water Cure, These Silent Woods, Elmet, or What Mother Won’t Tell Me. Same atmospheric DNA. Unraveling families, off-kilter lives, and secrets that decay with time. Weird-ass, messed-up families for the win.

Reef Mind by Hazel Zorn

The sea is coming for you...

Ooh this book grabbed me by the arm and sunk its cold fingerlike villi under my skin. If it's got elements of eco-horror, body horror, cli-fi and weird fiction, I'm all in. Throw oceanic horror into the mix and helloooo... I want to be drenched in it!

The book follows Matt and Amanda from the early days of the change. Something has shifted in the air. The fish and the coral reefs are able to survive outside of the water. An invasive species that is starting to take over the land. Most of the people are sick. They are transforming. Those left untouched by the change wander through grief, decay, and something like survival.

Reef Mind is a glorious apocalyptic ride—taut, terrifying, and just the right length for a binge read. It explores what happens when ecosystems fight back, when parenting becomes feral, and when evolution feels personal. Lush, terrifying, and beautifully weird, Reef Mind is a submerged scream for preservation and persistence.

For fans of fungal fiction like The Last of Us and The Beauty.

The Honeyeater by Kathleen Jennings

DNF'd at 17%. I wasn't connecting with it at all.

Not going to rate it because I didn't read enough of it but if I was, it'd be a 1 star. It's strangely written. Totally off putting.