Footprints by Simon Meredith weaves two timelines—1928 and 1986—into a genuinely spooky supernatural mystery, anchored by a wonderfully original hook: living paint as a conduit for fear and memory. With a richly unsettling setting and memorable characters, this is a creative, gripping read for horror and mystery fans alike.
Tag Archives: amreading
Book Review: The Light of Arunzi by Katelyn Peterson
A darker, more adult cousin of Harry Potter, The Light of Arunzi blends high-magic fantasy with contemporary urban fiction and a multilayered plot with thematic depth and excellent character work.
Book Review: The Curses We Keep by Dakota J. Miller
In The Curses We Keep by Dakota J. Miller, a family fleeing witchcraft accusations finds no refuge in the Charleston wilderness, where a wendigo, a grieving specter, and a town hunting for scapegoats close in on their daughter, Cassandra. A devastating time-loop reveals that her own attempt to save her family may cause the tragedy instead, and the novel’s immersive prose and inventive structure earn it a 5-star rating as a standout entry in dark historical horror.
Book Feature: Whistler by Ann Patchett
I have a rule about Ann Patchett books. I don’t read them on a deadline, and I definitely don’t start them at 11 p.m. thinking I’ll “just read a chapter.” That rule exists because I have broken it every single time, and paid for it with a night of no sleep and a heart that feels gently, lovingly wrung out like a dish towel. So when Whistler landed on my radar, I knew exactly what I was signing up for. Patchett has been my favorite living novelist since Bel Canto, and I’ve followed her from opera houses to Michigan cherry orchards to that porch in Tom Lake like a devoted, slightly obsessive pen pal. Whistler did not break my rule so much as confirm why the rule needs to exist.
Spotlight: C.J. Simone
‘ll be honest, when an author’s bio says “mafia thriller series,” I usually brace myself for a certain kind of book. Slicked-back hair, romanticized violence, a body count standing in for a plot. CJ Simone, author of suspense and dark psychological fiction and the mind behind the Children of the Mob series, isn’t writing that book, and the more I dug into her, the clearer it became that her real subject was never the mob at all. It’s the kids who grew up inside it, and what surviving that does to a person’s mind. Worth noting too, the mafia series is only one piece of what she does. Her catalog also includes The Gallos, a standalone psychological thriller about a girl invited into her wealthy neighbors’ home only to be framed for their abusive father’s murder, Pip and Estella, a gothic historical retelling of Dickens’s Great Expectations told in dual points of view, following two orphans, one raised humble and one raised wealthy but lonely, whose bond gets used as a weapon in someone else’s vengeful plan, and an upcoming gothic thriller, all of it united under what she calls dark psychological fiction meant to offer both thrills and something to actually sit with. That’s the spotlight I want to run today, not a review of one book, but a look at why this particular author keeps circling back to the same dark, family-shaped well.
Book Review: What the Hands Remember
Tiny stories with outsized impact define What the Hands Remember (A Vignette Collection for the Times), an anthology by J.R. Larriba. Ranging from western themes and childhood antics to the folly of trench warfare in World War I (and a brief stop in outer space), these tales are more than an author’s musings; they share common bonds even when they stand apart.
What the Hands Remember: A Book That Made Me Put My Phone Down and Actually Feel Things
Hands that knead barren dough, turn a breech child in a buried wagon, clutch the last ember in a century of dark, stitch a covenant that outlives the cloth.
Piece by piece, then as a whole. What the Hands Remember — A vignette collection for the times.
Who Owns You? Dalton Wyers’s Debut Asks the Real Question
Dalton Wyers is thirty-one. A father of two. A season ticket holder for Oklahoma Sooners football. And, as of this year, a debut novelist with no MFA, no writing workshop history, and no pen name hiding any of it. He has two Master’s degrees and a stack of professional certifications, none of them related to fiction. He taught himself to write using craft books and YouTube, started for real last year, and had a finished novel, Arvo, in under twelve months.
Seventeen Years in the Making: Why Kathryn Stockett’s “The Calamity Club” Won’t Let Go
There is a particular kind of anticipation that builds when a novelist disappears after a phenomenon. Kathryn Stockett’s 2009 debut, The Help, sold more than 15 million copies, spent nearly two years on the New York Times bestseller list, and became an Oscar-winning film. Then, for seventeen years, silence. This spring, that silence broke. The Calamity Club, published by Spiegel & Grau on May 5, 2026, arrived as an instant New York Times bestseller, and as of mid-August it has spent roughly fifteen consecutive weeks on that list, at various points holding the No. 1 spot and topping Amazon’s most-read chart. For a 600-plus-page work of historical fiction, a genre not exactly known for sprinting up sales charts, that kind of staying power demands a closer look.
A Cautionary Tale: Reviewing Dalton Wyers’ Arvo
Freedom of choice, reality, and even the question of what it means to be human collide in Arvo, a novel by Dalton Wyers. The setting is the very near future, and for seventeen-year-old Ethan Cole, life is normal—sort of. Like much of the country, Ethan is wired: neuro-integrated with an implant meant to help him live better. The device is not passive. It is a voice in his head, and it may have an agenda that has little to do with his well-being. When an upgrade becomes available, Ethan opts in, only to learn that the decision was never truly his.