Horror doesn’t have to scream. It just waits. The lights flicker, someone coughs, and you remember you’re alone.
That’s the trick. It never really leaves. It lingers in the buzz of an old lamp or the sound your apartment makes when it’s pretending to settle. It’s the text you don’t send. The window you meant to close.
Good horror doesn’t chase you down hallways. It sits in the corner and smiles when you finally notice it. It’s patient. It knows you’ll come to it eventually. Maybe when the night gets quiet enough that your brain starts talking back.
The books below get it. They’re not about running. They’re about what happens when you stop…
Witchcraft for Wayward Girls – Grady Hendrix (Berkley)
1970s Florida. A maternity home for unwed pregnant teens. The girls find an old book on witchcraft and decide to fight back. Hendrix mixes social horror with supernatural rebellion, turning shame into something sharp enough to cut with.
On Submission – Michael J.
Seidlinger (CLASH Books)
A literary agent starts getting submissions from writers who shouldn’t still be writing, and soon the bodies start piling up. It’s publishing horror as a full-blown slasher, where ambition and ego cut deeper than any knife. Seidlinger turns the grind of submission into possession, and the result feels like an exorcism wearing a suit.
Crafting for Sinners – Jenny Kiefer (Quirk Books)
A woman working at a craft store in a deeply religious Kentucky town starts noticing something rotten behind all the worship and hot glue. There’s faith, hypocrisy, and a queer relationship suffocating under both. Kiefer turns everyday retail horror into something sanctified and strange.
Mother-Eating – Jess Hagemann
(Ghoulish Books)
A modern horror about a cult’s reality show, a pregnant woman, and a story that reimagines Marie Antoinette through fame, faith, and madness. Hagemann writes about power, identity, and control with a voice that makes you want to look away — but you won’t.
Vampires at Sea – Lindsay Merbaum (Creature Publishing)
A queer vampire couple boards a luxury cruise through the Black Sea. It’s hot, sad, and soaked in sunburn and blood. Merbaum blends camp with melancholy, creating something both grotesque and gorgeous. You’ll laugh until it starts to hurt.
The Library at Hellebore – Cassandra Khaw (Tor Nightfire)
Students barricade themselves inside a library as their professors turn monstrous. It’s dark academia gone completely feral. Khaw writes like every sentence is on fire. Elegant, violent, and the most beautiful kind of chaos.
Cyanide Constellations: And Other Stories – Sara Tantlinger (Dark Matter INK!)
A collection of short fiction and poetry that proves horror can still be intimate. Tantlinger writes with precision and grace, crafting nightmares that glitter before they decay. Each piece lingers like perfume and bruises at the same time.
Wicked Jenny – Matt Hilton (Severn House)
A small town. An old story. A curse that never learned how to die. Hilton’s folk horror hits like gossip that’s been festering for decades . Ugly, human, and hard to shake off.
Hungerstone – Kat Dunn (Zando)
Faith, famine, and a small village trying to survive the unspeakable. Dunn writes gothic horror that feels biblical and modern all at once. It’s cold, slow, and devastating. Like prayer after the world’s already ended.
Disco Murder City – Caleb Bethea (Maudlin House)
A disco-obsessed cartoonist gets dragged into a city full of demons, killers, and bad nightlife decisions. It’s a slasher soaked in glitter and blood, the kind of book that smells like cheap perfume and bad ideas. And yeah — it’s a Maudlin House book. I’m biased. Sue me…🪩