Dead Weight by Hildur Knútsdóttir, translated by Mary Robinette Kowal, releases May 26, 2026, and it wastes no time pulling the reader into a Reykjavík night where loneliness, affection, and something far more dangerous blur together. An Icelandic night may hide secrets and affairs—or even bodies—in this gruesomely cathartic horror thriller from the author of The Night Guest, where a black cat’s arrival quietly unspools a chain of choices that can’t be undone.
Unnur is living a small, contained life until she’s chosen—almost accidentally—by what can only be described as the cat distribution system. When she finally lets the stray into her home, she doesn’t realize she’s also opening the door to Ásta, the cat’s owner, or to everything that follows. Ásta arrives like a cold wind off the harbor: compelling, damaged, and carrying trouble that clings tighter than either woman initially understands.
War turns people into monsters long before anything supernatural enters the picture, and Bone of My Bone understands that better than most horror novels. Set during the devastation of the Thirty Years’ War, Johanna van Veen’s latest is brutal, atmospheric, and deeply philosophical, blending folk horror with theological questions about morality, sainthood, and the terrifying power of blind faith.
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The novel follows Sister Ursula, a young nun fleeing the destruction of her convent, and Elsebeth, a sharp-witted peasant woman trying to survive a countryside ravaged by soldiers, starvation, and death. After escaping a violent attack, the two women come into possession of a skull believed to belong to a saint. Legend says reuniting the skull with the saint’s body will grant a wish, and the pair set off across the Bavarian wilderness hoping salvation might still exist somewhere in the ruins of the world.
Just a few months ago, inflation was reported at 2.4%, and we were told that meant things were stabilizing. The messaging was clear: the worst was behind us, the economy was settling down, and wages were starting to catch up. But for a lot of people, that didn’t match reality. Rent was still climbing. Grocery bills were still painful. Insurance premiums kept inching higher. The numbers said “progress,” but everyday life said something else entirely.
When inflation is reduced to a single number, it hides the reality people actually live with—rising rent, higher grocery bills, and paychecks that can’t keep pace.
Now inflation has climbed to 3.3%, and suddenly the tone has shifted. What was once framed as “under control” is now something to watch more closely, something to explain, something to blame on global conflict and rising energy prices. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: the difference between 2.4% and 3.3% doesn’t actually explain why people feel like they’re falling behind. Because the problem was already there.
There’s a particular kind of danger attached to reinvention, especially when it happens far from home. In Salomé by Leslie Baird, that danger arrives wrapped in heat-soaked French afternoons, magnetic attraction, conspiracy, and the seductive promise that maybe death itself can be outwitted. Releasing May 19, 2026, this gothic-tinged literary thriller moves like a fever dream, gradually tightening from atmospheric travel fantasy into something deeply unsettling.
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One of the novel’s greatest strengths is its setting. Baird captures northwestern France so vividly that even the oppressive heat and lack of air conditioning somehow feel intoxicating. The small-town atmosphere is lush, languid, and quietly claustrophobic, creating the perfect backdrop for Courtney’s growing obsession with Salomé and her family. The relationship between Courtney and Salomé mirrors that setting beautifully at first—warm, inviting, almost innocent in its intensity. Their connection feels youthful and sincere, the kind of intimacy that blooms quickly when you’re untethered from your ordinary life.
Emily J. Weisenberger writes speculative fiction that blends curiosity, humor, and sharp observation, creating stories that feel both imaginative and grounded in real human experience. Her short story, “Marrying Age,” featured in Beautiful and Terrifying, reflects her interest in exploring culture, identity, and the complexities of the worlds we build—both real and imagined. In this interview, she discusses the authors who shaped her early love of storytelling, how her background in anthropology informs her approach to character, and the balance of absurdity, heart, and insight that drives her work across genres for both children and adults.
Emily J. Weisenberger, speculative fiction author and contributor to Beautiful and Terrifying, whose story “Marrying Age” explores the complex boundaries between culture, identity, and imagination.
Q: What/who were your early literary influences, and how do you think their writing has shaped you as a storyteller today? A: Eva Ibbotson (Which Witch?, Island of the Aunts, Journey to the River Sea) and Daniel Handler, aka Lemony Snicket (A Series of Unfortunate Events) were authors I came back to again and again as a child and have continued to draw from as an adult. Their stories were so strange and so full of heart. Goodness persevered in Ibbotson’s books, while life was harsh but weatherable in Handler’s. Both gave me important and different ways to view the world, and lessons in how to capture young people’s sense of curiosity about life. These are still among my favorite books.
There’s a moment in Until Death when it becomes clear that the real horror isn’t just the eerie chapel, the controlling future in-laws, or the increasingly sinister wedding planning. It’s the realization that Ophelia has slowly stopped trusting her own instincts. That loss of self feels far more unsettling than any supernatural element lurking in the background, and it’s what gives Mary Berman’s debut its sharpest edge.
Get your copy of Until Death from my independent online bookstore today!
The novel follows Ophelia Cohen, a woman who never intended to get married after watching her parents’ relationship sour her on the entire institution. But as her mother’s dementia worsens, Ophelia becomes consumed by the fear of ending up alone. When she meets Luke—a man who seems almost custom-built to satisfy both her emotional vulnerabilities and her mother’s wishes—marriage suddenly feels less impossible. From there, the story spirals into a chaotic blend of wedding horror, psychological manipulation, family pressure, and increasingly alarming red flags.
There are books that entertain, and then there are books that settle somewhere in your body and refuse to move—Hunger by Choi Jin-young is firmly the latter, a slim novel that opens with a shocking act and only grows more unsettling from there. If the premise alone—compared to Parasite as a kind of dark, romantic counterpoint—sounds extreme, the reality is even harsher. This is, at its core, a tale of absolute misery. And it’s almost a relief that the book is so brief, because lingering in its world for too long would be difficult to bear.
Get your copy of Hunger from my independent online bookstore today!
The story begins with Gu’s death, though the cause is initially unknown. Dam, his lifelong counterpart in a relationship defined by separation and reunion, is inconsolable. The idea of losing him—not just emotionally, but physically through burial or cremation—is unbearable. So she makes a choice that is as horrifying as it is, in her mind, logical: she will consume him, ensuring they are never apart again.
Short answer: Yes—but do it with intention, professionalism, and an awareness of the ecosystem you’re participating in.
Longer answer: I believe authors reviewing other authors’ work can be a genuinely good thing. We’re part of a shared creative community, and thoughtful engagement helps readers discover books while also raising the level of conversation around storytelling. That said, how you review matters just as much as whether you review.
On my own blog, I keep my literary criticism constructive. I talk about what worked for me and what didn’t, but I frame those “didn’t” moments as areas where something could have been stronger—not as the author doing something wrong. That distinction matters. It keeps the focus on craft rather than tearing down the person behind the work. If a book ultimately wasn’t for me, I’ll still highlight the kinds of readers who would connect with it, because every book has an audience—even when I’m not it.
What would you give up to finally belong somewhere—and would you recognize the moment it stopped being your choice? Make Me Better is an unsettling, slow-burn descent into the seductive promise of community, where healing and control blur until they’re indistinguishable. Fans of Wife Shaped Bodies, The Unworthy, or Sorrowland will find something deeply familiar—and deeply disturbing—here.
Get your copy of Make Me Better from my independent online bookstore today!
At the center of the story is Celia, a woman whose longing for connection overrides her sense of self-preservation. She doesn’t just develop crushes—she builds entire imagined lives around men she barely knows. When she recognizes how precarious that pattern is, she redirects that intensity toward the idea of motherhood. A baby, after all, would be hers in a way no one else ever has been. That same vulnerability makes her the perfect target for something like Kindred Cove.
In this contributor interview, William M. Chippich—author of the upcoming novel Nevermore: The Heir, The Witch, and The Fool and contributor to Beautiful and Terrifying—shares the literary influences, writing habits, and creative philosophy that shape his character-driven fiction.
William M. Chippich brings a deep love of character-driven storytelling to every page he writes, whether he’s crafting the darkly atmospheric short story “Three or Four Miles, Mostly Flat” for Beautiful and Terrifying:Tales and Visions from the Edge of the Uncanny or building the richly imagined world of his forthcoming novel, Nevermore: The Heir, The Witch, and The Fool. In this interview, he reflects on the writers who first shaped his imagination, the discipline and creativity behind his process, and the themes of love, hope, and the unknown that continue to guide his work. From comic book legends and literary classics to the quiet rituals of everyday writing life, Chippich offers thoughtful insight into what it means to tell stories that truly connect with readers.
William M. Chippich, contributor to Beautiful and Terrifying and author of the upcoming Nevermore: The Heir, The Witch, and The Fool is pictured at Dunnottar Castle in Scotland.
Q: What/who were your early literary influences, and how do you think their writing has shaped you as a storyteller today. A: My earliest influences were writers like Stan Lee, Chris Claremont and John Byrne of Marvel comics. The great comic book writers of that era are very overlooked. Stan Lee in particular made comic writing and stories legitimate. After that, everything from Mary Shelley to Steinbeck, Hemingway, and too many classics to name. Guys like Stephen King, Dean Koontz, and Christopher Moore are definitely stand outs for me as well. Every one of these great writers build amazing worlds, but I think the real influence on me were their characters. They make fantastic, fictional beings seem real to people. You love them, you hate them, you feel for them. That’s the real magic of these greats.
Write on the World 