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.
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