A Book A Week

Some are born with the gift. Others have it thrust upon them. Olivia never expected to possess it at all. The ability to commune with the dead had always belonged to her sister, Naiche. But when Naiche died under mysterious circumstances, that gift transferred to Olivia, a final, unasked-for inheritance that changed her life forever.

Olivia has fully embraced her abilities, becoming a sought-after paranormal investigator. But the loss of Naiche still leaves an ache she can’t shake. When she’s called to investigate unsettling occurrences at the historic Brown Palace Hotel in Denver, she assumes it will be just another routine haunting. But this case is anything but ordinary. Every few years, a woman is found dead in room 904, no matter which room she initially checked into.

As Olivia delves into the chilling pattern of deaths, the past and present begin to blur. Her investigation pulls her into the orbit of a mysterious cult, a relentless journalist, betrayals from those she trusts, and shocking secrets about Naiche’s hidden life. What started as a ghost hunt quickly becomes something far more dangerous and personal.

In The Haunting of Room 904, Erika T. Wurth weaves a deeply personal tale of family, grief, and cultural identity within the framework of a gripping paranormal thriller. From the start, the eerie atmosphere sets the stage, evoking the unsettling tension of The Conjuring films. While the supernatural elements are undeniably chilling—delivering plenty of moments to send shivers down your spine—it’s the richly drawn, diverse cast that makes this novel stand out.

Wurth seamlessly integrates Indigenous history, particularly the lasting impact of the Sand Creek Massacre, alongside nuanced representations of LGBTQ+ and Jewish identities. These layers of cultural and historical depth unfold organically, adding weight and resonance beyond the scares. Through the terror, Wurth challenges readers to reflect on identity, politics, and belonging. The pacing isn’t always even, but the novel remains compelling and thought-provoking—a haunting on multiple levels.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 22)

Martha has always believed she’s cursed when it comes to love. Every relationship has ended in disaster, leaving the quiet librarian to embrace a solitary life with nothing but her beloved books for company. But then she met Alan. He was older, yes, but he was kind, devoted, and truly seemed to love her. Before long, they were married, and for the first time, Martha thought her luck had finally changed.

Yet, even in marriage, loneliness lingers. As a traveling salesman, Alan spends most of his time on the road, peddling teacher-themed tchotchkes at education conventions. A year into their relationship, Martha realizes she barely knows the man she married. Then she finds blood on the collar of one of his shirts. Her unease grows as she digs deeper, uncovering a series of murdered women, each killed in a city that coincides with Alan’s travels.

Could her husband be a serial killer, or is it all a terrible coincidence? Unsure of what to believe, Martha reaches out to an old graduate school friend, Lily Kintner. Lily has a knack for handling dangerous men. Eager to uncover the truth, Lily agrees to investigate Alan. What she discovers is far more twisted and sinister than they ever imagined.

In A Talent for Murder, Peter Swanson once again proves his knack for crafting gripping, twist-filled thrillers. Having long admired his stand-alone novels, I grabbed this one when I spotted it at my local library. It wasn’t until I was well into the story that I realized it’s actually the third book in a series that began with The Kind Worth Killing. Fortunately, A Talent for Murder works just fine on its own.

Swanson wastes no time pulling readers in, opening with a tragic perspective from one of the victims. The story was heading toward a fairly predictable conclusion until Swanson flipped the script entirely. The twist caught me completely off guard, shifting the novel’s trajectory to make the final act even more intense and satisfying than I had expected. Fast-paced and full of surprises, A Talent for Murder is a sharp, exhilarating mystery that proves Swanson is writing at the top of his game.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 21)

Stay with me on this train of thought. I find a certain comfort in the thrill of a classic slasher movie. I know what you’re thinking: How do you find comfort in something meant to terrify you? Fair question. But hear me out.

I’ve always enjoyed those formulaic horror films, you know, the ones where an unsuspecting victim is relentlessly pursued by a crazed maniac, hellbent on destruction. Classics like Halloween, Friday the 13th, and Scream perfected this formula, and while modern slashers often follow in their footsteps, there's something undeniably satisfying about watching these familiar beats play out. The predictability isn’t a flaw. It’s part of the fun, a rhythm I can sink into as I let the latest variation work its magic.

In the literary world, I've enjoyed how authors like Stephen Graham Jones and Christopher Golden have made their mark by honoring horror’s beloved tropes while carving out fresh, inventive narratives. Now I can add Adam Cesare’s Clown in a Cornfield to that list. His take on the teen slasher is bold, gruesome, and instantly gripping. It lures you in with its familiarity, only to keep you hooked with its clever twists on a well-worn genre.

Kettle Springs is the kind of small Midwestern town that time forgot. Nestled among sprawling cornfields, it’s littered with remnants of what it once was. The now-vacant Baypen Corn Syrup Factory looms over the landscape, a stark monument to economic collapse and the deepening rift between generations. Even more prominent is the town’s faded mascot, Friendo, a grinning clown in a porkpie hat, his image still plastered on buildings and rusting signs, a ghost of better days. The older generation clings desperately to the past, determined to make Kettle Springs great again. The younger generation couldn’t care less. They’re just trying to have fun and escape as soon as possible.

For Quinn Maybrook and her father, Kettle Springs represents a fresh start, something they both need after the death of Quinn’s mother. Her father has traded his high-pressure job as an ER doctor for the slower pace of life as the town’s primary physician. But Quinn isn’t exactly thrilled. This sleepy, dead-end town wasn’t what she had in mind for a new beginning. At this point, her only goal is to keep her head down and make it to graduation.

But Kettle Springs has other plans.

The town’s simmering tensions reach a boiling point when a masked killer—dressed as Friendo himself—decides that the best way to restore Kettle Springs to its former glory is to rid the town of the rotten kids who live there now. Suddenly, Quinn finds herself caught in the crossfire of a town at war with itself, running for her life in a place she never wanted to call home in the first place. 

With Clown in a Cornfield, Adam Cesare uses the framework of a classic slasher to explore small-town politics, grief, and the inevitability of progress. It’s a story that feels both timeless and eerily relevant, capturing the political divide of our current moment. Sure, it gets a bit over-the-top at times, and the climax ties things up a little too neatly, but I didn’t care. Cesare delivers a brutal, fast-paced horror novel that had me completely hooked. He brings classic slasher tropes into the modern era in a way that feels fresh, subverting expectations just enough to keep things unpredictable. With two more books in the series already out and a film adaptation coming later this year, Clown in a Cornfield is a bonafide hit. It's a fun, clever horror novel that has me eager for more.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 20)

It’s a late summer night in 1995 when newlyweds April and Eddie take a wrong turn. Their honeymoon isn’t off to the smoothest start. They’ve been driving for hours, struggling to find the small resort town where they’re supposed to be escaping from the world. Still, they’re basking in the glow of newlywed bliss, content to be lost as long as they’re together. A little detour will just be another story to laugh about someday.

Then, in the glow of their headlights, they see her—a lone hitchhiker standing by the side of the deserted road. Against their better judgment, they stop. What’s a little more of a detour, after all? But as the young woman climbs into their car, April and Eddie notice something chilling: blood is seeping through her jacket. Before they can ask what happened, a pair of headlights appears in the rearview mirror. A truck is coming—fast. And whoever’s behind the wheel isn’t stopping.

By the time the night is over, the hitchhiker is dead, April and Eddie are shaken but alive, and the local police have more questions than answers. A string of unexplained murders has plagued this stretch of road, and now, with no one else to blame, the honeymooners find themselves at the center of it all. Determined to clear their names, April and Eddie begin digging into the town’s shadowy past, only to uncover something far worse than a killer. There’s something unnatural at work here, something that has haunted this road for years. And if they’re not careful, it won’t just take the town’s secrets to the grave. It’ll take them, too.

I was first introduced to Simone St. James through The Broken Girls, and I was immediately drawn in by her ability to blend a gripping mystery with a supernatural touch. Executed with such skill, that combination made me an instant fan and eager to read more of her work. Over the years, she’s released two more novels—each intriguing, though with diminishing returns. The supernatural elements that once captivated me started to feel formulaic, more of a gimmick than an organic part of the story.

Would Murder Road fall into the same trap? I’m happy to say it didn’t. From the start, St. James pulls readers into a deceptively simple setup: a couple wrongly accused of murder. Setting the novel in the 1990s adds a nostalgic, retro feel that heightens the atmosphere, making it easy to sink into the eerie, slow-burning tension. And while the supernatural is still present, it feels more naturally woven into the narrative this time. Ultimately, Murder Road plays like a classic B-movie. It may not be the most groundbreaking thing I’ve ever read, but it is undeniably entertaining. With its ghostly murder mystery and cinematic feel, it delivers precisely what it promises: a chilling, fast-paced thrill ride.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 19)

When I read Charlotte McConaghy’s sophomore novel, Once There Were Wolves, in 2021, I was captivated by its quiet profundity, sweeping exploration of nature, and deeply intimate character development. It became one of my favorite books of the year and left me eager to read more from the Australian author. So when her publisher offered me an audiobook copy of her latest release, Wild Dark Shore, I jumped at the chance. Once again, McConaghy dazzles, maintaining her signature exploration of the connection between humanity and the natural world while expanding her storytelling into a deeply personal tale that functions as both a gripping mystery and an unexpected romance.

Dominic Salt and his three children are the caretakers of Shearwater, a tiny island not far from Antarctica and home to the world’s largest seed bank. Once bustling with researchers, the island is now nearly abandoned, its last inhabitants preparing the seeds for relocation as rising sea levels threaten its future. But while Shearwater’s wild beauty is undeniable, its isolation has taken a toll on the Salt family. Reeling from his first heartbreak, eighteen-year-old Raff takes his frustration out on a punching bag. Seventeen-year-old Fen spends her nights among the island’s seals. Nine-year-old Orly, obsessed with botany, fears losing the natural world he loves. And Dominic, burdened by the past, can’t seem to move forward from the tragedy that led them to Shearwater in the first place.

Then, during the worst storm the island has ever seen, a woman washes ashore. As the Salts care for the stranger, Rowan, their initial suspicion turns to affection, and for the first time in years, they begin to feel like a family again. Rowan, who has long guarded her heart, is also drawn to them. But she isn’t being entirely truthful about why she came to Shearwater. And when she stumbles upon sabotaged radios and a freshly dug grave, it becomes clear that Dominic is keeping secrets of his own. As the storms surrounding Shearwater intensify, the characters must decide whether they can trust one another enough to protect the precious seeds in their care—and whether they can finally let go of their pasts to build something new together.

In Wild Dark Shore, McConaghy expands on her signature themes of nature’s intrinsic value and our fragile, complex relationship with it, crafting an intimate and atmospheric story about family, grief, and survival. Her prose is breathtaking, bringing Shearwater’s rugged landscape to life with a vividness that makes even the smallest moments feel vast and significant. The novel’s characters are among the most deeply drawn I’ve read this year. McConaghy alternates between the perspectives of the five main characters, allowing us to fully inhabit their inner worlds until we understand them on an almost instinctive level. It all builds to a gut-wrenching conclusion that left me breathless. Wild Dark Shore is a profoundly moving novel that lingers, not with bombast, but with the quiet, lasting power of its exploration of people and the world they share.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 18)

Last spring, I traveled to Washington, DC, to celebrate my birthday. With its convenient public transportation, incredible food scene, and deep historical roots, it’s a city that’s both easy to navigate and endlessly fascinating. It had been nearly a decade since my last visit, and one of the stops I was most eager to make was the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture. During my previous trip, the museum was still under construction, so finally experiencing its vast collection was something I had anticipated for years. The exhibits are extensive and impossible to take in fully in just one day.

Tucked into a quiet corner of the museum is a small room designed to resemble a Southern chapel. At its altar rests the original coffin in which young Emmett Till was laid to rest. Standing in that space, I was overwhelmed with emotion, completely transported to one of the darkest moments in American history. A photo inside the coffin shows Till’s brutalized face, nearly unrecognizable, while soft hymns play in the background. Elsewhere in the museum, a vandalized metal sign commemorating Till’s murder, riddled with bullet holes, serves as a chilling reminder that the hate that took his life is still alive today.

Wright Thompson understands the deep-seated history of racism in the South all too well. His family farm in the Mississippi Delta sits just 23 miles from the site of one of the most infamous and consequential murders in American history. In The Barn, he digs into the hidden truths surrounding Emmett Till’s death, exposing a long-standing system of deception and silence that has protected those responsible for generations. As Thompson reveals, the true story is even more complex and harrowing than many realize.

Money, Mississippi, has long been marked as the place where Till was killed, but the exact location of the murder has mostly been erased from the history books. The crime took place in a barn owned by one of his murderers, nestled in a six-square-mile stretch of land officially designated as Township 22 North, Range 4 West, Section 2, West Half. It is steeped in Delta history and myth, not far from the legendary Dockery Plantation. That barn still stands today, an unassuming relic of an unspeakable atrocity. The current owner now uses it for storage, keeping Christmas decorations in the very space where Till’s body once hung, a stark and unsettling contrast to its horrific past.

Through his deep ties to the region, its people, and its culture, Thompson meticulously reconstructs the true events of that fateful night. He holds accountable those who committed the crime and the system that shielded them from justice.

The Barn expands our understanding of the Emmett Till case, shedding new light on the circumstances that led to his tragic and inevitable death. It is a stark reckoning with America’s legacy of racism and a sobering reminder of how a single lie can spiral into irreversible consequences. I was stunned by how much of this history I had never been taught. Growing up in South Texas, Till’s story was only briefly mentioned in my school history lessons. The full weight of it only became apparent as I sought the truth on my own. Thompson’s account is unflinching, often uncomfortable, but undeniably essential. What struck me most is just how recent this history is. This isn’t some distant past. Many of the people involved are still alive. The Barn is a necessary read, both as a reflection on our past and a warning of how easily history can repeat itself.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 17)