Take a photo of a barcode or cover
morganjanedavis's Reviews (396)
I devoured this hot horror novelette in one sitting. I love a woman gone bad. Betty Black is reborn in disgusting detail, blood n guts aplenty. Short, sweet, seductive. Brittany’s work never disappoints.
Oof this was far more depressing than I thought it would be. This title definitely reads like a fever dream but, the source of Amanda’s hospitalization is a big bummer. While SAD, I always appreciate social commentary so well communicated in fiction works. Would recommend.
4.5
Vera is called back to her childhood home to care for her dying mother. Despite their estrangement, she obliges, moves back into her childhood bedroom. The home where her father killed has been turned into an attraction, complete with a leeching artist who lives in the back, stripping the house away bit by bit. It's true, the rot is settled deep into the house's bones. But Vera can't let it end like this, she has to protect it. There's just no place like home.
I was expecting a run of the mill haunted house book peppered with familial drama. Just Like Home dug far deeper, highlighting Vera’s relationships with her parents: why one was so full of life and love and the other tarnished with grease, rot. The coldness sucked me in immediately.
Gailey takes classic horror tropes and turns them on their head, mashing them together into a pulsing narrative that seems to take on life, feels real. I don’t think the story would feel this way if not for the visceral writing style, the pointed way in which the plot is presented. All of these pieces work in tandem, creating a harmonious nightmare: oozing, unsettling, sinister. Ready to gobble you up if you’re not careful, if you don’t respect the house.
Vera is called back to her childhood home to care for her dying mother. Despite their estrangement, she obliges, moves back into her childhood bedroom. The home where her father killed has been turned into an attraction, complete with a leeching artist who lives in the back, stripping the house away bit by bit. It's true, the rot is settled deep into the house's bones. But Vera can't let it end like this, she has to protect it. There's just no place like home.
I was expecting a run of the mill haunted house book peppered with familial drama. Just Like Home dug far deeper, highlighting Vera’s relationships with her parents: why one was so full of life and love and the other tarnished with grease, rot. The coldness sucked me in immediately.
Gailey takes classic horror tropes and turns them on their head, mashing them together into a pulsing narrative that seems to take on life, feels real. I don’t think the story would feel this way if not for the visceral writing style, the pointed way in which the plot is presented. All of these pieces work in tandem, creating a harmonious nightmare: oozing, unsettling, sinister. Ready to gobble you up if you’re not careful, if you don’t respect the house.
3.5
An environmental catastrophe has wiped out most human life on earth, except for one family who refuses to succumb to the same fate. Their self-proclaimed prophet and leader, Matriarch has been steadfast in her idea to repopulate and reconstruct Earth back to its former glory for years. So much so that said repopulation has relied solely on incestuous relations with her brother, which now has no choice but to trickle down to their own children. When The Matriarch has a vision of new life, more people, she sends her daughter Dolores into the forest as a marriage offering. When Dolores comes back, no others, no husband, her siblings start to question their mother. There’s cracks in her Godliness. Is she even a prophet? Is she chosen to do this? Or is this family doomed?—stuck on a planet with only themselves and steady dwindling resources.
Due to the pure, unbridled feeling of dread this book evoked in me, it took me about 2 months to finish, and it’s only 214 pages. This is a family of brutes, consistently abusing one another, completely devoid of identity, purpose, unity. It’s unnerving to observe such a lack of sentimentality.
These people very much don’t know who they are and they don’t care. It’s like watching toddlers have temper tantrums when they can’t express their emotions, except these adults have no concept of what emotions are, even though they’re ruled by them. Isolation is causing skewed viewpoints, loneliness eating them alive. It’s intriguing. Because of this, I felt the characters acted horrifically on a dime, and all the time. You never knew when one would abuse the other and eventually, their behavior became less and less shocking.
Williams’ writing style consists of dense, intellectual prose that could definitely be considered polarizing; it demands scrutiny to be properly appreciated. Cryptic symbolism is sprinkled throughout, admittedly none of which I cared about towards the end. While I wouldn’t stop anyone from reading this book, it brings on the most true feeling of dread I’ve ever experienced from a novel. This sentiment paired with the carefully crafted prose confirms Williams’ talent.
The doloriad poses the question in a post-apocalyptic environment: just because survival is possible, is it worth it?
An environmental catastrophe has wiped out most human life on earth, except for one family who refuses to succumb to the same fate. Their self-proclaimed prophet and leader, Matriarch has been steadfast in her idea to repopulate and reconstruct Earth back to its former glory for years. So much so that said repopulation has relied solely on incestuous relations with her brother, which now has no choice but to trickle down to their own children. When The Matriarch has a vision of new life, more people, she sends her daughter Dolores into the forest as a marriage offering. When Dolores comes back, no others, no husband, her siblings start to question their mother. There’s cracks in her Godliness. Is she even a prophet? Is she chosen to do this? Or is this family doomed?—stuck on a planet with only themselves and steady dwindling resources.
Due to the pure, unbridled feeling of dread this book evoked in me, it took me about 2 months to finish, and it’s only 214 pages. This is a family of brutes, consistently abusing one another, completely devoid of identity, purpose, unity. It’s unnerving to observe such a lack of sentimentality.
These people very much don’t know who they are and they don’t care. It’s like watching toddlers have temper tantrums when they can’t express their emotions, except these adults have no concept of what emotions are, even though they’re ruled by them. Isolation is causing skewed viewpoints, loneliness eating them alive. It’s intriguing. Because of this, I felt the characters acted horrifically on a dime, and all the time. You never knew when one would abuse the other and eventually, their behavior became less and less shocking.
Williams’ writing style consists of dense, intellectual prose that could definitely be considered polarizing; it demands scrutiny to be properly appreciated. Cryptic symbolism is sprinkled throughout, admittedly none of which I cared about towards the end. While I wouldn’t stop anyone from reading this book, it brings on the most true feeling of dread I’ve ever experienced from a novel. This sentiment paired with the carefully crafted prose confirms Williams’ talent.
The doloriad poses the question in a post-apocalyptic environment: just because survival is possible, is it worth it?
Suzy is done living with the monster. Enduring every form of abuse imaginable. Suffering, playing the dog. She is so tired of playing the dog. She snaps, killing the monster [
Anybody Home? offers a fresh take on the home invasion trope: viewing the crime through the lens of the invader(s). There’s a lot to plan, a lot you have to pray goes correctly—home invasion is no walk in the park. You are one of them, the intruders: watching, studying, invading. You are complicit in the crime. While the victim’s names are never revealed, you KNOW them, what they’re all like. The brutality you inflict is slow, planned, sadistic. Turning family members on one another by revealing secrets, inflicting pain, true pain. You’re doing great, the cults are gonna love it. Remember to ensure the performance is top notch. Entertainment is the goal. Protect the performance, get the footage, vanish without a trace.
Anybody Home? is told from a second person point of view, making YOU, the reader, part of the story [
Anybody Home? is told from a second person point of view, making YOU, the reader, part of the story [
