About Pictures of You: A woman becomes the unknowing subject of an artist’s dangerous work in this intense Hitchcockian thriller from the New York Times bestselling author of Incidents Around the House. Releases on September 8th 2026.

Despite novelists often being last to know what their books are really about, I like to think the core of Pictures of You lies in the encouragement and discouragement of the arts, and how far the smallest compliment, or gibe, can go.

I was once a teenager in the backseat of my friend’s car when I absentmindedly sang along to a Doors song on the radio. The girl sitting beside me told me I had a “cool” voice. This was a moment. Would I have gone on to sing and write songs for The High Strung if Melissa hadn’t said those few words? I really don’t know. And had she told me I wasn’t any good… would the thousands of shows and dozens of albums have followed?

Scary thought, that.

Well, as someone who has now written a bunch of books, I can’t help but look inward. At least a little. And to notice the breadcrumb trail of moments that have led to a (truly) crazy (and wonderful) life of writing songs and books. And if I follow that trail back far enough… what did my first exposure to art look like? Who opened these doors so that I would one day feel comfortable enough to sing along to The Doors in the first place?

That answer is Mom. As Moms often do. And the place was here at home in Michigan, The Detroit Institute of Arts, as magisterial and full of wonder as any edifice I’ve ever been. The time was any time I begged Mom to take me to the DIA, so I could again see the pieces that were shaping me in a way I was too young to understand. But observe:

Pictures of You doesn’t only feature a dangerous artist with a dangerous vision, there is also Emily, the star of our story. And while she is captive in this other’s horrifying vision, she also has her own uncomfortable relationship with art. She gets anxious when her (awesome) boyfriend Jack brings the subject up. She goes quiet with friends at the Chaps Art Institute (you can now guess what place this fictional museum was based on). Emily constantly examines why she feels the way she does about art, even as she tries to escape the piece in which she wakes.

I don’t have that relationship with art. Neither Emily’s nor the woman who keeps her captive, but I do have a history of my own, a history that, now, examining the breadcrumbs on my own path, make total sense: a straight line from those afternoons with Mom at the DIA to the writing of the art-thriller Pictures of You.

Allow me to exhibit five pieces that blew my young man’s mind. Five that haunted the museum, I felt, and encouraged my imagination to reach out, to add to the pieces, even if a ten-year-old could not yet know how something like that could be done.

Observe:

Watson and the Shark

Self-explanatory, of course, why a preteen would beg Mom to take him to see this American piece from 1782. The artist John Singleton Copley made three versions, and I do believe this is the most unsettling of the bunch. For me, it was the near translucence of the water surrounding the boy Watson and the shark, the fact you could put your hand in that water if you really had a mind to, if Mom wasn’t near, if you were alone in this corner of the museum. The fact the painting depicted a real event was enough to give me nightmares. But it’s what Mom said about people calling it sensational at the time, shock-value, before it went on to become a classic… that was something extra that stuck with me. And while I don’t know if this is true, it was true for me, as a kid, and that idea opened conceptual doors beyond the fear I felt observing: doors that have remained open since and, maybe, probably, likely played a part in me writing about a woman who is certainly working with shock, and whose vision could be seen as something classic itself one day. But I suppose the fact she keeps her subject captive might hurt those chances. Still… who can be sure?

Celadon and Amelia

William Hamilton likely knew he’d infused canvas with despair in 1793 with this one. But when I was a kid, I didn’t know the story behind it. I didn’t see lovers at all; I saw a dark wizard (not dressed as wizards usually are, but also kinda) casting a spell on a woman in fantastical woods. It was the equivalent of a fantasy novel for me then and it still is. Sure, Hamilton meant to render a woman dying in her lover’s arms mid-tempest, but what is art if not the story we make of it before we know anything about it at all? I think our mad artist in Pictures of You would’ve liked to study this piece with me. Maybe she would’ve seen herself as a voyeur, framing the scene, doing nothing more than recognizing the artistry of a gesture, and the inherent power that lies within every moment, everywhere, literally everywhere, we look. Because to her, the act of seeing is the act of framing. Therefore, looking is art.

Armor in the Gothic Style

A pattern is emerging… a young horror-novelist-to-be, begging Mom to see the most sensational exhibits at the museum, choosing the art museum over video games and movies. I suppose Pictures of You was only a matter of time. And let me tell you, passing between multiple displays of Medieval and Renaissance armor, still young enough and therefore small enough to fit into these outfits… it was enough to make you want to nab one and set out on quixotic adventure on the beaches of the Great Lakes. It made you want to… cross a line. A pattern, here, indeed. Just like the mad artist of Pictures of You… crossing lines, fancying yourself chivalric… putting the art above all else, including, of course, the safety of any and all involved.

The Nightmare

I mean, come on. Come on. Henry Fuseli’s 1781 iconic symbol of sleep paralysis, housed permanently in the Detroit Institute of Arts, the museum just down the street. Do you have any idea what proximity to a thing like this might do to a young mind? Especially at night, feeling for your own chest, sleeping on your belly, making sure nothing could perch. It was one of my first introductions to the macabre, the gothic, and a brilliant one at that. But the truth is, the museum harbors only images that encourage the imagination, if the imagination is willing, and not all of them are “scary” by nature. Sometimes it’s just the look in the eyes of a portrait, the emptiness of a pub, the oily black shadows behind a heralded religious figure. Still, knowing The Nightmare is up the street is like having Dracula up the street. A bona fide centerpiece of the genre. I wonder what our artist in Pictures of You might think of this one? I imagine she would say placing an empty frame beside the bed of a sleeper would be more unsettling. And I’m not sure I’d disagree.

The Court of Death

Helluva title. Rembrandt Peale’s 1820 epic painting (almost 13×26 feet, framed). And what young man wouldn’t observe in horror the dead body at the feet of such ceremony? Symbolism abounds, but I didn’t need any of that back then. Not sure I need it now. The scope is big enough to put you in the room with the characters, to be present as either judgment or finality or morality is made.

I’ve always been a sucker for the giant paintings of any era, the original immersive theater, and I wonder if I studied this painting for ninety minutes if I wouldn’t walk away with the satisfaction of an entire movie, sinking into depth painted two hundred years ago. It’s almost an inverse of our artist’s philosophy in Pictures of You. Here, Peale uses scale to put us into the art. But the artist in Pictures of You believes art is already here, there, everywhere. And seen through a frame makes masterpieces of us all.

(thank you to Mom and the DIA for opening so many minds to the possibilities of the imagination)

(all photos by Allison Laakko, Josh Malerman, or Allessandra Abdo)

(pictured are Josh Malerman and Allison Laakko)

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About The Mystic and the Missing Girl: In The Mystic and the Missing Girl, Vikki VanSickle seamlessly draws listeners into an utterly charming world in this unputdownable, small town mystery. Out September 8th 2026.

I consider myself an ambassador for tarot. I am always singing its praises—offering readings to friends, encouraging people to listen to tarot podcasts or replace their standard morning pages with a tarot card pull. Tarot is a highly elastic and interpretive discipline—it serves different purposes for different people. For me, it’s akin to a meditation or journaling practise—a processing method that provides structure and clarity in my life. I’ve had an interest in tarot ever since Janeane Garofalo pulled The Death card in the millennial childhood classic Now and Then, but it took me years to buy my own deck. Tarot felt like something other people did—people who called themselves Wiccan or had an uncanny intuition. I felt a little too mainstream—and a little too skeptical—to pull it off. I’ve always been more of a Scully than a Mulder—I want to believe, but I also want proof.

But a persistent interest in the mythology, artwork, and the history of tarot eventually became too strong to ignore and I got my first deck, the traditional Smith-Rider-Waite. Chances are the imagery that comes to mind when you hear the word ‘tarot’ is from this deck. You may know it as the Rider-Waite deck—Rider as in the publisher William Rider & Son, Waite as in A.E. Waite, creator of the deck. The problem with this name is that it omits the name of the artist, Pamela Colman Smith, a fascinating woman who created all of the imagery on the cards and is believed to have been responsible for deepening the meanings of the minor arcana or ‘pips. To correct this historical wrong, some people refer to the deck as the ‘Rider-Waite-Smith,’ others (like me) as the ‘Smith-Rider-Waite.’ See? Fascinating already!

I was incredibly overwhelmed in the beginning. Seventy-eight cards, jam packed with symbolism and multiple interpretations, are a lot to digest. I devoured tarot books, podcasts, daily card pulls, even a colouring book. I learned that tarot is a practise—an active, on-going process of learning and doing. I made a personal tarot bible with my favourite interpretations, associations, and spreads. Eventually my own tarot language started to emerge. I started to recognize the cards as you would a neighbour or old friend, made my own connections between them, and felt comfortable reading for others.

Reading cards for someone is very intimate. Ninety-nine percent of the time querants (a fancy tarot term for the person getting a reading) have a question about work or love. In the beginning, I felt like an unqualified therapist. Eventually I understood that the querant isn’t seeking my opinion, they are looking for a new way to assess the issue. I think of tarot as a tool, not a crystal ball. I’m not giving predictions, I’m providing a story, a mirror, an angle that hopefully provides clarity, comfort, or a new perspective.

The seeds of my first mystery novel were planted in my tarot practise. As much as I love giving readings, I’m not sure I have the emotional stamina or confidence to be a professional tarot reader, so instead I got to live out that dream via Drew Benson, the main character in my mystery novel, The Mystic and the Missing Girl. Like me, Drew uses tarot as a processing tool. Unlike me, Drew has latent psychic abilities, something she has been reluctant to tap into after watching how her aunt—a nineties-era TV psychic accused of meddling in an unsolved missing person’s case— was vilified by the public. But when the opportunity to solve that very same case comes along twenty years later, Drew realizes it might be those psychic abilities (and her tarot cards) that make all the difference. My own interpretations, experiences, and feelings about the cards are sprinkled throughout the novel. If you’ve never looked at (or cared about) a tarot card in your life, don’t be discouraged—I wanted to approach the tarot elements in an accessible, grounded fashion. You do not need an education in tarot to enjoy the book. But if it encourages you to pick up a deck (there are so many incredible options these days) and start your own practise, then I welcome you to the wonderful world of tarot—it’s lovely here.

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About Fall Into Place: Lenore’s life is falling apart. Propelled home from Manhattan to rural Vermont to spend one final autumn at her family’s historic apple orchard before it’s sold, Lenore struggles to say goodbye. Callan’s path has been laid out for him for as long as he can remember: live, work, and die in Whitbury, Vermont. He’s taken over for his father as the groundskeeper at Lenore’s family farm, but now that it’s soon to be sold, his future has turned abruptly uncertain. The last thing he needs is a distraction—like Lenore, his best-friend’s sister, showing up out of the blue. Releases September 8th 2026.

I took a literary criticism course during undergrad where we talked about houses. More specifically, what the houses in our favorite stories represent. The consensus was that, in one way or another, a house often parallels a character’s state of mind.

The titular country house in Wuthering Heights is as gloomy and uninviting as Heathcliff himself. The Mojo Dojo Casa House in the Barbie movie is the physical manifestation of the Kens’ takeover of toxic masculinity. Normal People by Sally Rooney uses Marianne and Connell’s respective homes to contrast both their social standings and their family lives.

Of course, any time this sort of analysis comes up, someone in the room is compelled to ask, “Isn’t is possible that the author simply wanted the red curtains to be red?”

When it came to my writing process with Fall into Place, the answer is: kind of.

At the onset, I didn’t have symbolism at the forefront of my mind. A lot of authors don’t. Tolkien, for example, vehemently denied that there was any intentional symbolism in his work, despite many readers noting that Lord of the Rings serves quite readily as an allegory for real-life wars. The clearest explanation is that an author’s experiences shape both what they choose to write about and how they write it, and readers inevitably pick up on that.

In my case, I knew that I wanted to write about an old New England farmhouse long before I knew anything else about Fall into Place. Why? Because I live in an old New England farmhouse.

It’s quite impossible—as a historian especially—to exist in an old house without considering its past. My house is overflowing with evidence of its various custodians throughout the centuries, from handwritten letters in a steamer trunk in the attic to walls insulated with torn-up newspapers from the 1950s. The original builder is mentioned in local history books and buried with his wife at the top of a nearby hill. The whole thing sits a bit crooked, doors that don’t close right and wood paneling that slants sideways, like the house is weary with age. It’s been around a few hundred years, so who can blame it, really?

You probably haven’t read Fall into Place yet, but if you had, all of this would sound familiar.

Slowly, as I built my story around the idea of this farmhouse, the characters took shape.

For Lenore, returning to the house is bittersweet. It’s representative of a family history she has tried to outrun, and it’s likewise irrevocably changed by the loss of her grandmother. Callan, as groundskeeper, has spent the past few years caring for the house. If the house parallels Lenore, then it’s easy to see how his role as groundskeeper parallels their relationship.

Contemporary romance, as genre fiction, is not always subjected to the ‘literary’ treatment. It’s not analyzed and dissected in classrooms the same way classic literature is. But the symbolism exists regardless, even when it’s not necessarily intentional.

The truth is that the farmhouse in Fall into Place shaped the characters as much as they shaped the house. Which is a bit how it works in real life, too, come to think of it. At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter whether I intended for the house to represent anything. My writing is a direct reflection of where I live, and Lenore, in turn, is a direct reflection of the house that raised her.

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About Harbour of Hungry Ghosts: Babel meets Buffy the Vampire Slayer – a family of demon hunters find their hands full when unfamiliar monsters start stalking the streets of Opium War-era Hong Kong, in this historical fantasy adventure from No. 1 Sunday Times bestseller Eliza Chan.

It might seem too early to be talking ghosts, but unlike the West when Halloween and the darker evenings are the time for ghost stories, in many parts of Asia and for the Asian diaspora, it’s the long summer nights that are the prime time: telling stories around a campfire, fanning yourself as the old house creaks its bones under you, listening to the incessant thrum of insects outside. It’s also when Hungry Ghost Festival is celebrated on the 15^th day of the seventh lunar month, August 27^th this year. This is when the gate between the living and the dead is opened and forgotten ghosts come to sate their appetite. The perfect time to read a creepy book or two about vengeful spirits, the hopping undead and all things the monstrous.

My recently released novel, Harbour of Hungry Ghosts, is about exactly this. Babel meets Buffy the Vampire Slayer in a historical fantasy adventure filled with action scenes, banter and horror-comedy. Kiamling is a rookie monster hunter in the mid 19^th Century, used to dealing with hopping vampires and hungry ghosts. When her grandmother is captured by a mysterious shadow beast, she realises the British may have brought their own monsters across the ocean.

If this sounds like your kind of cuisine, here are some other book recommendations featuring East and Southeast Asian ghosts and monsters.

The Girl with a Thousand Faces by Sunyi Dean

Dean’s sophomore novel defies classification as it takes the reader on a dizzying rollercoaster of twists as the eponymous girl with a thousand faces stalks protagonist Mercy Chan. It’s simultaneously set in 1940s and 1970s Hong Kong, an urban fantasy and a literary ghost story, about unfinished business, trauma and revenge. Trust me, just read it.

Bat Eater and other names for Cora Zeng by Kylie Lee Baker

Having seen her sister pushed in front of a subway train before her eyes, apparently the only logical profession for Cora Zeng is crime scene cleaner. The novel spirals as the New York Chinatown murders pile up and Cora’s point of view is claustrophobically discomforting as she starts seeing ghosts everywhere. Not for the faint of heart.

She is a Haunting by Trang Thanh Tran

A gothic haunted house story but make it Vietnamese, queer, diaspora and colonial. Jade is determined to keep her head down whilst visiting her estranged father in Vietnam over summer but the colonial house he is restoring has other ideas…

The Ghost Bride by Yangsze Choo

Li Lan is offered a way to save her bankrupt family, become the ghost bride of the deceased son of an affluent family. Set in 19^th Century Malaysia, The Ghost Bride is filled with real traditions around the dead, lingering ghosts and a young woman finding her own voice. One to savour.

Black Water Sister by Zen Cho

Closeted Jessamyn Teoh drifts after graduating from Harvard and finds herself back in Malaysia. Tasked by the rather persistent ghost of her grandmother, she must stop real estate developers demolishing a local temple. It starts with Zen Cho’s trademark lightness but the women of the novel are satisfyingly complex and it takes darker turns than expected.

Prodigal Tiger by Samantha Chong

Catherine Chua, daughter of a prestigious magic family, is living in exile in New York because of something terrible she did in the past. However when her brother is abducted by vengeful ghosts she is summoned home to Penang to help. Action-packed and filled with diaspora feels.

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About All The Queens’ Curses: From a debut voice comes a gripping, atmospheric retelling of a Scottish Isles fairytale featuring body swapping magic, a complicated romance, sisterhood, royal curses, morally ambiguous fae, and a high-stakes escape from an abusive king. Released August 27th 2026.

The very first time I read ‘Kate Crackernuts,’ I felt it was perfect for a retelling. Magic, romance, a clever heroine—this story had it all!

As I spent time with the fairytale over the course of drafting my novel All the Queens’ Curses, I just fell more and more in love. Here are five reasons I’m obsessed with this little-known Scottish fairytale.

1. The love between the stepsisters

‘Kate Crackernuts’ features a deep bond between two stepsisters (in my novel, Kit and Catharine). In the original, Kit’s mother curses Catharine so that Catharine’s bonny face is replaced by a sheep’s (it’s a little different in my retelling!) But when Catharine is left alienated and reeling, Kit sides with her stepsister.

One of my favorite lines in the original tale is: “[Kit] took a fine linen cloth and wrapped it round her sister [Catharine]’s head and took her by the hand and they both went out to seek their fortune.”

There’s so much tenderness in those lines. These sisters have each other’s backs. I love it.

2. The trauma undertones

One little detail in the original fairytale is that the queen’s curse is only effective when Catharine has not eaten. It’s an easily missed story beat, but important.

Care and love (including being fed) form resilience and resilience makes us better able to recover from traumatic events. A lack of care and love makes us vulnerable.

In ‘Kate Crackernuts,’ the hedgewitch warns the queen that the spell will not work if Catharine has breakfast. The first day, Catharine sneaks some food from the kitchen (taking care of herself). The next day, field laborers give her some food (community takes care of her). The last day, the queen escorts Catharine herself, thereby ensuring she has no access to any resources. And so Catharine is cursed.

My retelling has a focus on themes around trauma and healing, and it was fascinating to find the kernels already there in the tale.

3. The missing reason for the prince’s curse

About halfway through ‘Kate Crackernuts’, our girls come across a castle where a cursed prince is wasting away with a mysterious illness. Everyone who stays the night with him ends up missing… until Kit.

Kit discovers that the prince is being danced to death by faeries. But in the original, we never find out why. He’s just cursed.

Gaps like this are gold for a retelling. In All the Queens’ Curses, because I wanted to explore themes of trauma, I decided to use the prince to explore intergenerational trauma. He takes on a curse that his ancestor started.

4. The clever bravery of the protagonist

Kit escapes alive because she is clever (in some versions, she’s even called Clever Kate). When the way to the faerie realm opens conditionally (“let the young prince in with his horse and his hound”) Kit quickly adds an amendment (“and his lady him behind”). When the faeries show their hand with curse-breaking items, Kit uses nuts she’s foraged to make a trade. When she negotiates her fees for helping, she escalates all the way to asking for the prince’s hand in marriage.

She is an active force in the original, which of course made her a delight to write in my retelling!

5. The setting

‘Kate Crackernuts’ was collected in the Orkney Islands by a rural lawyer in the late 1800s. He passed the tale on to Andrew Lang (famous writer of the Blue Fairy Book and other collections). One of the odd things, though, is that ‘Kate Crackernuts’ features characters riding through a forest… and there are very, very few trees at all on the islands.

During my writing process, I interviewed local folklorist Tom Muir. His theory is that the woman who told the lawyer the story was a ‘traveler’ from the Scottish Highlands.

One of the great joys of writing my retelling was bringing the setting more to the forefront of the tale. I’ve placed Catharine and Kit in a highland setting and my cursed prince on an island kingdom. Instead of riding through the forest, he sails through treacherous waters. In this way, I’ve been able to capture both the spirit of where the tale may have originated and the place where it was told.

Want to read ‘Kate Crackernuts’? You can find an annotated version on my website.

Want to read All the Queens’ Curses? You can order it now!

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About 72 Hours of You: A unique, unforgettable and tragically romantic YA debut, perfect for readers of Laura Nowlin’s If He Had Been With Me, Adam Silvera’s They Both Die at the End and Dustin Thao’s You’ve Reached Sam. Releases August 27th 2026 in the UK and September 1st 2026 in the US.

Today we’re delighted to be joined by Darianne Schramm, whose debut novel 72 Hours of You takes the reader on an unforgettable emotional rollercoaster in this gorgeously rendered story of love, death and trying to make the most of life. She shares five books to make you feel something, a perfect follow-up for this emotionally immersive read.

The main characters in YA novels try to deflect, hide their emotions, or pretend like they don’t have any at all (ope, relatable). But we all know the truth: there are always feelings. So. Many. Feelings. simmering under that tough exterior. And what’s wrong with feeling anyway, she cries to herself in the mirror? There’s nothing better than a novel that makes you feel something deeply.

Which is why I wrote one myself.

My debut YA tragic romance, 72 Hours Of You, is about a teenager who can see pink neon death clocks over people’s heads 72 hours before they die. And if you’re thinking this book has got to be seriously sad… well, you’re right! It has been known to make people throw the book across the room surrounded by tissues. But it’s also really funny, and hopefully the kind of book that makes you think about life (and death) just little differently.

Below is a list of six books that make you feel deeply and widely.

They Both Die At The End by Adam Silvera

You’ll Feel: Optimistic and Nihilistic
I know, the words “optimistic” and “nihilism” don’t usually go together. Kind of like peanut butter and motor oil. But in this book, they totally do. They Both Die At The End was such an inspiration to me while writing 72 Hours Of You and a big reason for that is the very specific feeling that the novel leaves you with. There is, of course, the deep and abiding existential dread of knowing that not a single one of us is going to survive life. But—stay with me—in knowing and accepting that, there is also freedom! Hey, if none of us are getting out of here alive, we might as well have the best time we can while we’re here. They Both Die At The End will leave you wishing there was another chapter to the book, but when you finally accept that there isn’t anymore (for any of us), you’re left with a sense of possibility and appreciation for the world (and the people) around you.

The Dividing Sky by Jill Tew

You’ll Feel: Heartwarming Coziness
This book is a dystopian romance. I see you glancing back up to make sure I did, in fact, call a dystopian book “heartwarming” and “cozy.” I did! This book is part “eat the rich” and part “oh god, is technology going to ruin our lives??”, but it is all romance. Sure, the world may have fallen into a techno-hellscape, but our main character has also fallen into the arms of her (golden retriever) enemy. And let me tell you, the swoon vibes are off the charts. But beyond that, there is, somehow, a magical coziness to this dystopian book. It is the kind of read that makes you want to curl up with it over and over. I felt so warm and fuzzy while reading—I never wanted to leave the world that Tew had created. Which is a wild thing to say about a dystopian book!

Natural Selection by Clare Edge

You’ll Feel: RAGE!
On the complete opposite end of the spectrum we have the rage-filled manifesto about the (totally valid) feminine urge to tear it all down. Natural Selection is the literary embodiment of the viral question of whether you would choose to be alone in the woods with a man or a bear. And let me tell you, in this house we Live, Laugh, Love and Choose The Bear. Always. This book is a heart-pounding fury-fest, but what’s even better is the absolute catharsis you feel when finishing this book. If “boys will be boys,” then this book is wholly redefining what it means to let “girls be girls.” Natural Selection will take you through the anger and out the other side into power.

All The Noise At Once by DeAndra Davis

You’ll Feel: Sibling Love
All The Noise At Once is such a special book that leaves you with the deep urge to call your sibling and tell them how much you love them. After closing this book, I immediately had to pick up the phone and call my brother to tell him how much I love him (and also remind him that I am still Mom’s favorite). This is a book about police violence against Black people in the US, a book about what it means to be an autistic teen grappling with their place in the world, and it’s definitely about football. But the heart of this book is the relationship between two brothers: the football star and his younger brother. The absolute care and protectiveness shown by Brandon to his younger brother, Aiden, is so beautiful it almost makes you forget the time your own brother drew a bunch of overflowing toilets on your (private!!) diary.

Glass Girl by Kathleen Glasgow

You’ll Feel: Abiding Hope
Hope? With a book cover like that? I know! But stick with me here. Yes, this is a Kathleen Glasgow book so yes, of course, there is trauma, pain and the potent teenage anguish of being alive. But! There is also abiding hope. This novel follows Bella and her struggle with the grief over losing her grandmother, and her subsequent struggle with her coping mechanism of choice: alcohol. Much of the book takes place at a rehab center so there are a lot of different feelings going on in this book, not just sadness. But at the end, we’re left with hope. But of course, this is a Kathleen Glasgow novel and she is the queen of sad-but-true novels. So while there is hope it never feels like false hope. And that is the beauty of a Glasgow novel.

The Fault In Our Stars by John Green

You’ll Feel: The Sads
Last but not least… You didn’t think we could have a list about feeling things deeply and not include a John Green book did you? Couldn’t be done. The Fault In Our Stars is a certified YA classic for a reason. This book has it all: angst, teenagers that talk like they’re mid-doctorate, and death. Just when you think “Perhaps I will not fall victim to the cryfest everyone else seems to be having, maybe, I am made of steel!” this book will kick you square in the gut. If you want to laugh, cry, ponder life, and then cry harder this is the book for you. Just be prepared to stare at a wall for 3-5 business days afterwards.

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About The Woman Who Wouldn’t Die Quietly: From award winning, New York Times bestselling author Katarina Bivald comes The Woman Who Wouldn’t Die Quietly, a razor-sharp, atmospheric mystery that proves some women are far too formidable to go gently—even in death.

It’s difficult to imagine a more idyllic place than the archipelago of Stockholm in summertime. Sunshine glitters in the sea, red cottages with white corners dot the many small islands that make up the archipelago. Sea gulls, eiders, mallards, goldeneyes and swans populate the cliffs and the bays, and everywhere people are enjoying the long summer days when the sun almost never sets.

            And then, of course, we have the winter.

            Come autumn, the weather grows colder. The sea birds leave for warmer, more comfortable places. People do, too. The bays grow eerily quiet when even the sea gulls abandon them. On land, a lonely fox hunts for food.

            And a lonely writer looks for places to kill someone.

            For the first time in my life, I’ve chosen to write about a place that’s real, and incredibly dear to me. I’m here now to explore a new side of it.

            Even though I’ve spent almost every summer of my life here, in the patchwork cottage first bought by my great grandparents and then added to over generations, everything feels very different during the autumn and winter.

            As I row almost oil black waters thinking about murders, I note the boats securely on land, everything put away for the season. The cottages lay dark and abandoned. In a way, the islands feel reclaimed by nature. Undisturbed by us.

            When winter arrives, I’m there too, as sleet and snow hammers the cottage and the fireplace struggles to warm the room. Darkness descends at three PM, and it’s a special kind of darkness when no one is around. No lights from other houses. I hunch by the fire, muttering to myself that it’s a special kind of stupid to be all alone in a cottage on a dark and stormy night and spend your time conjuring murderers. The only thing I see in windows is my own reflection, pale and ghostlike in the flickering light. At every sudden noise from outside I flinch and promise myself that next time, I’m writing a bloody romance. That takes place somewhere warm. In the summertime. When your mind is on murder, every snapped branch sounds very, very ominous. 

            But nothing prepares you for the quiet of the ice. Even the sounds of the ocean disappears, and all you see in every direction is a never-ending whiteness. When snow drifts across the ice it’s no longer possible to separate water from land.

            Except it’s not quiet. Not really. Not if you listen closely. The ice moves and sings. I can sit for hours and listen to it. When the sun sets and the light turns almost purple, it’s the most beautiful thing in the world.

            And deadly, in its own way. My thoughts turn to murder again, as they often do.

            In The Woman Who Wouldn’t Die Quietly, Swedish-English author Berit Gardner decides to spend the autumn and winter in the cottage she’s inherited from her mother. When DCI Ian Ahmed of the Devon-Cornwall police very reluctantly accepts an invitation to convalesce there, he expects nothing more than bitter winds, silence, and boredom.

But just across the bay, a sleek, modern house stirs to life. Staff arrive in dark clothing, cleaning and prepping with military precision. And then Margrethe Cullenberg-Franzén appears—legend of the art world, notorious matriarch, and, as Ian soon learns, a woman used to bending the world to her will.

            Here’s a piece of advice: if you’ve spent your entire life running your family as ruthlessly as you’ve run the family business, it is perhaps not the best idea to gather them all on a dark and stormy night to celebrate your eightieth birthday.

At the very least, it makes for a tense dinner party.

And at worst …

Well, you have to read to find out.

In this murder mystery, I wanted to explore how money and dysfunctional family ties led to disastrous decision-making from almost everyone, and how far one woman was willing to go to control her own legacy.

I wanted to create a sort of Nordic noir Agatha Christie – with a plot twist that no one sees coming, worthy even of that great Dame herself.

So I invite you to come with me to the cold and dark archipelago of Stockholm, and see for yourself if I succeeded.

Can you figure out who the killer is, before he – or she – strikes again?

The post Come With Me To My Favorite Place In The World. If You Dare. appeared first on The Nerd Daily.

About The Jezebel List: Unleashing her inner Jezebel on camera was not part of Christina Edmondson’s plan, but nobody said rebuilding your life after religious and family trauma was going to be easy. A radical and heartfelt debut that celebrates the pursuit of joy, The Jezebel List is perfect for fans of Abby Jimenez and B. K. Borison. Releases August 25th 2026.

Don’t worry: I am highly aware that “religious trauma” and “rom-com” are not exactly an expected pair. Even I was skeptical of my own idea in the beginning. Who would want to read about something as horrible as religious trauma in an escapist romance? Would any literary agent or editor ever take a chance on a book so out of the mainstream? What if the themes were seen as too “controversial” for a commercial readership?

And yet the idea of a religious trauma rom-com wouldn’t leave me alone. The more I contemplated, the more a romantic comedy seemed like the best genre to unpack the ugly impact of religious trauma that I know far too well as a pastor’s daughter from the Evangelical American South.

But how exactly does one go about writing a religious trauma rom-com? The decisions seemed endless as I set out to write The Jezebel List. Here, I walk through a guide of sorts for how I navigated the choices that led to this religious trauma rom-com, all of which underscore the undeniable power of the romance genre and its many possibilities.

1. Focus on joy 

So many expressions of faith in this world are about love, acceptance, and charity. But there are also expressions of faith that are about shame, bigotry, and control. Unfortunately, my story is the latter, and I am not the only one.

I wanted to turn my religious trauma into a gift; as a writer, making others feel seen in our shared human experiences is what I have to offer to the world. So before The Jezebel List, I wrote several personal essays about my religious trauma—how I needed to constantly earn my salvation, how I lived under persistent shame and guilt over natural impulses, how I spent my entire life until my twenties performing on a church stage.

To put it frankly, these essays were sad. They were sad to write, and they were sad to read. How could I write about religious trauma but make it more… fun?

The most obviously fun part of leaving a controlling religious environment behind is all the stuff you can now do—all those regular parts of life that were deemed wrong or bad or damnable. The world is suddenly like an all-you-can-eat buffet after years of subsisting on bread scraps.

Thus, the backbone of my religious trauma rom-com is the Jezebel List. Our FMC Christina creates a list of forbidden activities that were deemed sinful that she plans to check off one by one. Meanwhile, our MMC Danny is an entranced documentarian who is there to witness and amplify Christina’s joy. The list is really the surface-level representation of the deeper hurts and internalized traumas, so it provides a space to explore those hard aspects but in very joyful scenes.

And of course, even the toughest parts of life become a little easier when shared with someone you’re falling for. Banter, flirtations, sly touches, and emerging trust wrap up the hurt in a squeal-worthy package.

2. Set the novel post-therapy 

I knew from day one that I did not want this novel to happen smack in the identity break that is often necessary to come out of shaming religious environments. That is a crushing place to be, and it is most likely not a great state of mind to be striking up a romance. I even knew that I did not want this novel to be set in the hard aftermath of that break… the one where your entire world has crumbled and now you have to rebuild your life, rewire every thought, and figure out who the hell you always were.

Instead, this novel begins after Christina has been in trauma therapy for a year. She has done the heavy lifting to believe she is whole as she is. The struggle at this stage, then, is grief. Christina must contend with the grief of her upbringing and the years consumed by shame as she collects the experiences on her Jezebel List and lives fully as herself.

For a woman coming out of a controlling religious environment that only wanted her to be a pious cookie-cutter pastor’s daughter, what could be more intoxicating than a worshipful man who is dedicated to knowing the real her through-and-through? In my estimation, being loved and being known are two sides of the same coin. Romances are thus one of the best spaces to make sense of religious trauma because they are stories of being known, the ultimate gift for someone who was always told who to be instead of asked who they are.

3. Make the story equally cozy and spicy AF 

Any highly controlling or guilt-ridden environment can feel like constantly sitting stringently in the world’s most uncomfortable straight-backed chair. I thus wanted this novel to feel like the exact opposite—like cozying up under a heated blanket on a squashy cloud.

The coziness of this novel can first be found in its focus on the everyday: brunches and inside jokes and movie marathons and rainy days and Friday night dinners and long walks and nicknames and reading chairs. These are the day in and day out textures of a romantic relationship, and they also happen to be a soft place to land after religious trauma.

The other cozy aspect of this novel is the found family. For many of us, leaving shaming religious cultures can also mean losing our families—a profound pain in an already gut-wrenching situation. This is the case for Christina, but the found family that has formed around her is a saving grace. She has already found acceptance and laughter in her life: She doesn’t need Danny. She wants him.

But do not be deceived! Just because this novel is cozy does not mean the spice levels are low. On the contrary, The Jezebel List is a steamy celebration of sex. Especially with my brand of religious trauma, sex outside of strict bounds was one of the ultimate taboos. Instead, romance is a space where our identities as beings with bodies and desires can be deliciously indulged. Sex can be dirty and fun and pleasurable and intense and messy and perfect. It can be a reflection of who we are and how we connect, and I love the pages it takes up in this novel to express Christina and Danny’s relationship to themselves and one another.

4. Give the book a provocative title 

Jezebel is a Biblical figure who is still referenced in some religious circles to describe women who are selfish, deceptive, and rebellious. Culturally, of course, the term has become a stand-in for any “misbehaving” woman, which many of us—including Christina and me—embrace with pride. In the novel, Christina describes her Jezebel status this way: “I’m a woman who won’t spend one more minute performing, or behaving, or folding myself up to fit anyone else’s expectations.”

The Biblical reference in the title is obviously on purpose per my part. I want to be very clear that this is a religious trauma rom-com, and I also want to reclaim the damning Jezebel designation that was used in my upbringing.

I understand that this novel is taking a stance, but it is a stance I am very proud to take. The novel does explicitly critique Evangelicalism and fundamentalism in the American South (my brands of religious trauma) because, in my estimation, they are in need of critique. I love my Southern home, which makes it worth critiquing.

The ultimate message of this novel is self-acceptance, radical inclusion, and unconditional love, which need not be in conflict with any faith traditions. Romance lets us uncover the shared humanity between all of us; people are what matter, after all.

5. Trust in the happily ever after 

It is easy to think that romances are meant to be happy and hopeful, so they are not the place to engage with the hard and ugly parts of life. However, I believe the exact opposite is true.

Romance lets us unravel and process hard things because of the guaranteed happily ever after. We know everything is going to turn okay. That makes it a safe space to lay out our trauma, carefully turn it over, and see it in new lights.

Falling in love means being seen by another person. All of our damage and flaws are on full display, and yet we are worth loving anyway. Is there anything more hopeful? More comforting? More capable of allowing us to accept and digest our traumatic experiences?

At the end of the day, the heart of loving someone else is a renewed journey of learning to love yourself. This is the primary reason I knew I had to write a religious trauma rom-com—because healing from religious trauma is also a journey of learning to love yourself.

Turns out, this odd couple of “religious trauma” and “rom-com” makes a beautiful match. And don’t we love an opposites attract trope?

The post How to Write a Religious Trauma Rom-Com appeared first on The Nerd Daily.

About The Lake Club: Two women in a wealthy lakeside suburb clash over a cute male nanny, pulling the town’s darker secrets to the surface. The Lake Club is both an addictive, rollicking beach read, and a stylish, deft exploration of a lesser-known region of American wealth.

It’s a warm-ish day in April—the kind that makes Minnesotans suddenly regain their will to live after six months of icy snow and air so cold it makes you choke—when my mom looks up from her coffee, slides a newspaper across the table, and says, “It’s probably time to get a job.”

This isn’t some failure-to-launch situation. It’s 2006, I’ve just turned 16, and I’m not surprised by the comment—nor by the classifieds section now staring up at me, several listings circled in black Sharpie.

Still, my stomach drops.

I’m not excited to get a summer job. I’m not going to push back, either. Not because my parents are crazy strict or anything, but because they’re such good, hardworking people. I know this is simply what comes with turning sixteen. In our family, work ethic runs deep.

My mom is the daughter of a Chinese immigrant who escaped the rise of Communist powers via a scholarship to Cornell. At seventy-three, she still travels every week for work. My dad grew up incredibly poor and, though an actor at heart, became an engineer for job security. So it’s unsurprising that they raised a Type A, straight-A daughter.

And yet, I’m still a 16-year-old girl, so I groan, grab the newspaper, mutter, “fine,” and stomp off to my room.

There, among my Josh Hartnett posters and Sex and the City DVDs, I review the résumé I’ve already started. I figure I’m as good a job candidate as any other high schooler—maybe even better, given I’ve been stacking my extracurriculars for college applications: I’m on student council, multiple sports teams, yearbook, DECA, National Honor Society… blah blah blah.

Still, I have a sinking gut feeling about this whole job situation, and I know it’s for one main reason: I am terrified I’m going to be bad at it.

After all, even at sixteen, I understand there’s no way to prepare for your first job. It’s not a test you can cram for or a soccer drill you can run in your backyard. The double-edged sword of succeeding all the time is that you become even more afraid to fail.

The job is happening whether I like it or not, so the following Saturday, I put on the black slacks and blue button-down I’d bought for a marketing competition and spend the afternoon driving around, dropping off résumés at restaurants and coffee shops.

Lastly, I end up at the country club. While I’ve driven past the club plenty of times, as I step inside the foyer, I am overwhelmed by all the beautiful marble and golden light and the smell of money. You know the scent… Something like bergamot and air conditioning.

So as I hand over my résumé, I make a silent, sweet sixteen wish that they’ll be the ones to call me back.

And they do! Long story short: they invite me to interview to be a cater waiter, I overprepare, nail it, and before I know it, school’s out—all my friends are headed out on Lake Minnetonka—and I’m headed to my first day of training.

I am, of course, thrilled there’s training—and that my coworkers are wonderful.

There’s Charles, an older man who looks like a ballerina but can carry thirty stacked plates. Ann, who rolls up her sleeves to show me her giant mermaid tattoos. And Sam, a cute redhead boy from three towns over.

They teach me the choreography of the job.

But while everyone else seems to be able to juggle seven tasks at once, I can’t see the forest for the trees. I ping-pong through each event checklist in a completely nonsensical order, obsessing over tiny details while missing what actually matters. I spend half an hour folding perfect napkin flowers and forget to fill the water glasses. I set out the butter patties three hours early and prep the creamers when there’s no coffee service. And when the guests arrive, I become so shy, I skirt the edges of each room, trying to avoid as much interaction as possible.

So, as the week of training wraps up, I realize my fear has come true: Only practice makes perfect, and I’m far from it.

This is unfortunate, given my first solo event is fast approaching: the biggest wedding of the summer, 250 people descending on the ballroom that pitch-perfect Saturday.

I’m going to spare you the gory details.

Let’s just say that at one point, Ann, my section partner, has to grab me by the shoulders and yell, “You need to own the tables! Stop being afraid! We need to clear the salad plates!”

And later, while carrying a tray of wine glasses back to the kitchen, I drop the entire thing against the wall, glass and Cabernet exploding everywhere.

Then, toward midnight, as the guests leave and we’re back in the kitchen, my boss hands us each a slice of leftover wedding cake; pats my shoulder and says, “You’ll get the hang of it.” I try not to cry as I swallow the buttercream.

It turns out, she’s right.

I do get the hang of it.

But not just over that first summer—because I end up working there another five until I am the one training the terrified sixteen-year-olds.

Each summer, I thought I was just learning how to be a better cater waiter; what I didn’t realize was that I was actually learning how to quietly fail without quitting.

This lesson came back to me in full force when, years later, I finally broke from my very Type A plan and committed to my secret dream of writing a novel. Because writing—as many of us know—is all about learning to embrace failure. Draft after draft, rejection after rejection, you have to rely on your own dogged belief in yourself to keep going. You have to see every low point as just another tray of glasses hitting the wall: Clean it up, pick yourself up.

I spent ten years in this cycle, and finally, my debut novel, The Lake Club—which, fun fact, is directly inspired by my time working at the club—published this June.

A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to go back to Minnesota for a book event at the country club. My old boss still works there, and she welcomed me back with open arms.

Honestly, I was nervous. I hadn’t been back to the town, let alone the club, in over a decade, and I worried I’d be overcome with nostalgia and transported back to my anxious teenage years.

Yet walking into the foyer, I was surprised by how I felt nostalgic—sure—but I also felt oddly calm; I held so much tenderness toward my younger self.

There’s actually a line in The Lake Club that says, “There’s no such thing as grown-ups, only the act of growing up,” and standing there, I finally understood what I had written.

I realized that life is really just one long conversation with our past, present, and future selves. We often spend so much time wishing we were in a different stage that we forget our younger or older selves would probably be proud of us exactly where we are—of how we made it through the hard times or soaked in the good.

As I left that evening, I looked down the long hallway toward the ballroom, and I imagined my 16-year-old self there in her bowtie, sweating and rushing back to a wedding.

I imagined her pausing to stare back at me and saying,

“Wait… you really wrote a book?”

The post The Summer Job That Taught Me How to Fail appeared first on The Nerd Daily.

About The Best I Never Had: They staged a romance, faked a breakup, and this time around, anything can happen―even something real. Releases August 18th 2026.

I’ve always been interested in everyone’s favorite trope. I overanalyze each, attributing meaning like a half-baked personality test or poorly written horoscope. There’s no way I’m right (I don’t actually think enemies-to-lovers fans are living out their fantasy of fighting through the characters because they’re avoidant in real life), but I’ve always wondered what it says about me that I can’t seem to get enough of fake dating books.

For some important context, I’m the goodiest of goody two-shoes. The idea of lying makes me break out in hives. Maybe that’s why I love these books so much? It’s something so far outside of my comfort zone that I can explore through the characters. Come for the adrenaline rush, stay for the “Is this kiss real?” moment.

I devour these books, and in each story, one of two things happens. Of course, they fall in love (as one is destined to while fake dating), and either they (a) decide to come clean, or (b) get caught and it all blows up in the most delicious way. It got me wondering… what if neither of those things happened? What if they never acted on their attraction and weren’t forced to come clean by external forces?

That’s exactly what happens in my new book, The Best I Never Had. Owen pays Thea to pretend to be his girlfriend for a family wedding. Despite the tension between them, Owen chooses not to put the moves on someone he’s paying to pretend to like him (like me, he is the goodiest of two-shoes). They walk away from the weekend, unkissed and certain they’ve gotten away with it.

Flash to three years later, when Thea shows up at her sister’s whirlwind wedding to a man she’s never met and realizes that the groom is Owen’s little brother. The two panic, agreeing to keep up the lie that they dated and had a devastating break up so Owen’s intense mother doesn’t blow up the whole wedding. But it’s hard to keep straight what’s real and what an act when his huge meddling family keeps pushing the ‘soulmates’ back together, especially when those pesky feelings they so successfully ignored the first time get even more intense.

This book is a play on fake dating instead of the real thing, but it took its inspiration from all of the fake dating books I’ve read. Here are ten of my favorites:

The Wedding Crasher by Mia Sosa

Read if you want to laugh out loud on every page

Mia Sosa is one of my all-time favorite authors! In my eyes, she can do no wrong, and that’s certainly true with The Wedding Crasher. After ruining Dean’s modern-day marriage of convenience by objecting at the wedding, Solange agrees to pretend to be his girlfriend to help him claim the promotion he’s been chasing. What follows is banter-fueled perfection (Dean literally gives her a fake dating study guide!) that had me howling and squealing.

The Next Best Fling by Gabriella Gamez

Read if you quote Marie Kondo’s “I love mess” on the regular.

This is the messiest (complimentary) book on the list. We have an upcoming wedding, a hero and heroine who are in love with the bride and groom, respectively, and a fake dating scheme to cover up the fact that the hero was about to tell the bride to call off the wedding. It’s hilarious in just how chaotic it is, but it’s also so beautifully grounded in relatable characters you can’t help but cheer for. And most importantly, Theo is scrumptious.

Say You’ll be Mine by Naina Kumar

Read if no man will ever compete with Mr. Darcy

This one kicks fake dating up a notch. Instead of fake dating, they’re fake engaged. Karthik’s mother is relentless in her desire to see him settled, and Meghna’s just agreed to be the ‘best man’ for a man she’s secretly loved for years. They both need a buffer for the next few months, so what better way than to ‘agree’ to the arranged match their parents are pushing? I am obsessed with Karthik! He’s giving Darcy, all stern and judgmental, but once he falls, he falls hard.

Sunk in Love by Heather McBreen

Read if you like your laughter with a side of tears

I’ve read this book a half-dozen times, and I love it more with every read. Roslyn and Liam are in the middle of a secret divorce when they’re invited to an important family event. The two agree to pretend to still be together for the trip to avoid the drama and disappointment of announcing their split, pairing fake dating and marriage in trouble in the best way. McBreen expertly weaves together funny, spicy, and heavy moments as we learn what pulled them apart and cheer for them to get back together.

Lovelight Farms by BK Borison

Read if you’ve ever secretly been in love with your best friend

I’ll admit it. I’ve been that girl pining after her best friend. And while I’m very happily married now, there’s some sort of wish fulfillment watching two best friends who clearly refuse to act on their feelings being forced to snuggle up and kiss. Stella didn’t think things through when she mentioned a “boyfriend” on a contest application, but now she’s a finalist and needs someone fast. Enter her delicious best friend, Luka, who is more than happy to step in for the role. They’re so soft and perfect, and I come back to reread every Christmas!

Take a Hint, Dani Brown by Talia Hibbert

Read if you binge watch everything on BBC

I’ll read anything Talia Hibbert writes, but this one will always hold a special place in my heart. When Dani and Zaf go viral, he begs her to fake a relationship so he can bring more attention to his non-profit. The only problem… they can’t seem to keep it professional. Dani’s on board for the perfect friends-with-benefits situationship she’s been looking for, but Zaf’s determined to show her they could be so much more than a fake relationship with hook-ups on the side. Like all of Hibbert’s books, she pairs beautifully complex characters with the type of hilarious British humor that’s made me pay to stream way too many BBC shows.

Birding With Benefits by Sarah T Dubb

Read if you think older characters deserve to get their back blown out, too

Being quiet isn’t in my nature, so I could never be a successful birder, but I devoured this book. Celeste shows up at a birding competition thinking she’s there to pretend to be this stranger’s girlfriend. Meanwhile, John, who’s looking for a birding partner after his last partner—and girlfriend—dumped him, has no idea what’s happening when this chaos demon shows up. They decide to go with both, and their dynamic is addictive. Your hot not-boyfriend having to stand close behind and whisper in your ear to avoid scaring the birds? Yeah, I’ll take two.

Sunshine and Spice by Aurora Palit

Read if you love a good Bollywood movie

I remember watching ‘Jab We Met’ in college, and it rewrote my brain chemistry. This book hit all the same chaotic, perfect notes! Naomi, our sunshine heroine, needs to learn about Bengali culture—fast, and Dev, our grumpy hero, needs to avoid the matchmaker his mom hired against his will, so they strike a deal. He’ll teach her about the culture her mother never shared if she pretends to be his girlfriend to scare off potential matches. I was (and am) obsessed. I wanted to magically transport myself into the Garba scene and then melted at the scene right after (iykyk).

The Kiss Countdown by Etta Easton

Read if you haven’t been able to stop talking about Project Hail Mary

We all know astronauts are hot. No other career pairs a brilliant mind and competency with the body of a professional athlete. In this book, Amarie’s life is falling apart around her, and Vincent is preparing for a big mission. Both need to get the people in their lives off their backs, so they agree to fake a relationship until he leaves. The Kiss Countdown has it all. The wickedly hot astronaut, a temporary roommate situation to dial up the tension, a 3-month countdown to a literal blast off, and a New Year’s Eve kiss that will have your toes curling!

First Down by Grace Reilly

Read if you think there’s nothing hotter than a toxic man being put in his place

Look, I know hockey romance is all the rage (I’m with you! The number of times I’ve watched Heated Rivalry should be illegal), but this football romance deserves the spotlight, too. Who can resist a book that starts with her kissing a hot stranger to get away from her cheating ex? From there, Bex and James strike a deal. She’ll help him pass the class he needs to graduate if he pretends to be her boyfriend to get her ex to leave her alone. He’s so wonderfully protective of her, and the rest of the series (featuring a different sport for each sibling) is just as amazing.

The post Author Amy Buchanan’s Fake Dating Book Recs appeared first on The Nerd Daily.