We chat with author Katie Garner about her latest gripping release The Family Inside, along with sharing an excerpt at the end of the interview!
Hi, Katie! Can you tell our readers a bit about yourself?
Hi! I’m Katie, a full time office worker with a 3 year old who secretly (well, maybe not so secretly anymore) writes books about murdery things involving female main characters and dark secrets lurking in dark corners.
When did you first discover your love for writing and stories?
In my 20s, I was broke and depressed and stuck in a life that I wanted to escape from…but because I was broke, I couldn’t afford to go anywhere or do anything. One day an idea came to me and put me in a chokehold. I’d never written outside of school but I had to write this book. After that first day, I was addicted. Writing was fun and free and became the only thing I ever wanted to do.
Quick lightning round! Tell us:
- The first book you ever remember reading: The first book I remember reading that wasn’t a board book or children’s story was NIGHT OF THE LIVING DUMMY by RL Stine. I distinctly remember running downstairs to tell my mom I had finished reading my very first novel.
- The one that made you want to become an author: There were a lot, but off the top of my head I remember, THE NIGHT CIRCUS by Erin Morgenstern, THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO by Stieg Larsson, and DAUGHTER OF SMOKE AND BONE by Laini Taylor. I always like to read in different genres.
- The one that you can’t stop thinking about: DARK PLACES by Gillian Flynn
Your latest novel, The Family Inside, is out January 28th ! If you could only describe it in five words, what would they be?
Family can be a nightmare.
What can readers expect?
With all of my books, readers can always expect dark themes, twists, justice, and murder.
Where did the inspiration for The Family Inside come from?
The full answer would spoil one of the big twists, but I will say that the idea came to me when I was listening to a lot of true crime podcasts. I was getting upset how they all seemed to end the same way—with the killer getting away with it and justice never being served. I thought to myself: how can these families live knowing their daughter/friend/wife was murdered and they know who did it, yet nothing can be done?
Were there any moments or characters you really enjoyed writing or exploring?
I loved writing the secondary POV following Ellory, and her new ‘friends’ Jade, Mars, and Davey. I drew a little from my own messed up teenage years.
Did you face any challenges? How did you overcome them?
Oh god yes. With each book I feel like I rewrite the entire thing at least 7 times! I have a lot of deleted scenes and characters with this book, but oddly, I think because Iris never changed in my head and has remained true, this book came easiest to me.
The trick is when you’re facing a challenge—whether it’s needing to add more suspense, or believability, or amending an entire character arc—to never give up, but to also know when to step away. I find coming back with fresh eyes (and a few days of stewing/brainstorming) usually solves most issues.
This is your second novel! What are some of the key lessons you’ve learned between working on the two?
I became a major plotter. I plotted my first book, but after that, I became a little obsessed with plotting. My outlines can reach 20-25k. I know people say they don’t like outlining because their characters direct the story and things always change, and that is true. Even though I try to stick to my outline, I am also always changing things and am open to following where my characters want to take things.
What’s next for you?
I am working on book 3. I think this may be the book that kills me. But I’m a glutton for punishment and am currently on *checks notes* draft 6.
Lastly, what books are you looking forward to picking up in 2025?
I can’t wait to grab YOU KILLED ME FIRST, by John Marrs, CROSS MY HEART, by Megan Collins, OLD SOUL, by Susan Barker, and WHEN THE WOLF COMES HOME, by Nat Cassidy. 2025 is going to be fantastic.
EXCERPT
SHOCK! RIVERSIDE MURDER HOUSE: 2 DEAD, REMAINS OF SEVERAL OTHERS FOUND
by: Vivian H. McNeal
Published: Jan 27, 2025 at 1:33 PM EDT
GREENWICH HILLS, NY (WLPL-TV)—At midnight on January 26, police dispatch received a 911 call traced to a historic manor on Starlight Path. According to the sheriff, police who first arrived at the scene discovered two victims whose identities are yet to be released, though authorities are still determining the causes of death.
Those weren’t the only bodies police discovered. Upon further investigation, forensics teams, following an anonymous source, uncovered the buried remains of at least five other unidentified victims, police said.
“We’re horrified,” neighbor Evonne Erboss said. “The entire community is horrified. No one can believe what happened at that house. We’re absolutely shocked.”
This is a developing story.
8 DAYS BEFORE
FRIDAY, JANUARY 17
CHAPTER 2
Hotté Latte is busier than usual for a Friday afternoon. Every table is taken by customers nestled into corners, laptops open, lattes drained.
Sloane’s quick to catch sight of me. “Hey, Iris.”
I unzip my coat, collapse onto a stool. “You guys are busy today.” I inhale the delicious scents of caramel, espresso, and baked cookies. The smell is half the reason why I visit every day. That and to see Sloane.
She eyes me up and down. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine. Just stressed.”
I place my phone on the counter, check the time, click it off.
In the screen, my reflection stares back. My ink-black hair is straight and unstyled, and I’m getting the first whisper of fine lines, small and tapered, around my mouth. For the past few years, I’ve been forcing myself to smile more, to smile through the grief and pain. But there’s a price for everything.
“So what has you stressed…more than normal?”
“I have news. Good news, bad news, and ugly, too,” I admit and flip my phone over. I don’t want to see my reflection anymore. “What do you want to hear first?”
Sloane leans on the counter, taps her chin as she thinks about the question. “Good news. I need some positivity.”
“Okay. I’m meeting Hugh, right here, in this very spot, in ten minutes.”
Sloane gasps, slaps my arm with the purple daisy dishrag she perpetually has slung over her shoulder. “He is so into you.”
My cheeks go hot. Maybe I am sick. Or it could be because I know Sloane’s right. I haven’t had a man look twice at me in years. Even Jack grew to love me over time. We’d known each other since we were young and eventually realized we couldn’t escape each other. I try my best to be positive. To think about the good things. Before Jack died. It’s the only way I’ll make it. I think about how over the years, Jack and I never had a reason to break up, and so we stayed together, growing in love as we grew up together alongside our daughter.
“It’s only been two months.” I lean on the counter across from her. “I shouldn’t even be dating anyone. It’s too—”
“It’s not too soon. You can’t blame yourself forever. What happened to Jack wasn’t your fault.”
My body wilts. “I know.”
“Besides, it’s been three years. Eventually, you have to move on. Why can’t it be with Hugh? Even if Ellory only tolerates him. Barely.”
“I feel for him, I do. He tries so hard with her.”
“It’s the age. She’ll come around.”
I nod. “I hope you’re right.”
“I am. Everyone loves Hugh. He’s good-looking and generous.” Sloane glances at the tip jar. “And he does all that charity stuff, like you. He’s a veritable Robin Hood—with good hair.”
I can’t help but laugh. This brings a smile to Sloane’s face, too. “And who cares how long you’ve known him,” she says. “Time will go by fast.”
“You’re right. You could know a person for years and never really know them.”
She swallows hard as she examines me. “What did Hugh say about the foreclosure?”
“I haven’t told him,” I admit. “I’m not sure I can, especially not after I tell him what happened today.”
“If you’re embarrassed, don’t be,” Sloane says. “You’ve done nothing to be embarrassed about.”
I shake my head. “It’s not that… I’m ashamed. Ashamed my kid’s going to have to live in a car. Ashamed I couldn’t keep our house. Sometimes, I think Jack would be ashamed of me, too.”
“So what’s the bad news and ugly news?” Sloane asks.
I begin to answer just as Hugh’s sleek white Tesla effortlessly parallel parks in front of the café. He gets out, walks between his car and mine—an old beige CR-V, dented and duct-taped and ready to fall apart. A few customers sitting in the window watch him, eyes unblinking, as he walks to the door. Hugh tends to have that effect on people.
Sloane tugs at my sleeve. I turn to see her leaning forward, face inches from mine.
“Quick—tell me the bad and ugly before he comes.”
“I’ll tell you later,” I say as Hugh pulls open the door. Right now, I need to brace myself. I’ve lost nearly everything in the past twenty-four hours. The last thing I want is to lose Hugh, too.
The bell above the front door tings. Hugh steps inside. A whoosh of cold air flutters in, along with a burst of crisp brown leaves that tumble across the floor.
Subconsciously, I fiddle with my hair, try to perfect it. Hugh’s a man made of only good parts—slice him in half and you’ll find the best traits a person could ask for and then some—and he’s beyond handsome, to boot. Clark Kent–like in appearance, his eyes are bright and molten blue. If I peered inside Hugh’s closet, his ironed shirts would be sorted by shade and his shoes would glisten with mirror shine.
I’ve not once seen his hair grown too long or his stubble go unshaved. Today, as always, Hugh looks impeccable. We planned to only meet for coffee since he has an early day tomorrow, so jeans—even lounge pants—would be appropriate. But Hugh is…Hugh. He wears a navy blazer with a baby blue plaid pattern, white shirt, perfectly pressed navy pants, oh—I spotted it. He’s not wearing a tie. This is casual Hugh.
He grins at me, heads over to where I sit at the counter. I look down at the wrinkled brown dress I pulled out from a cardboard moving box. Embarrassment flushes across my face. I’m not even sure it’s still in style, but it’s the only dress I have that isn’t falling apart or a size too small.
“Hi, Iris,” he says, pulling me in for a kiss. His lips are soft and full, and when he kisses me, he lingers close after, nudging the tip of his nose against mine.
Releasing me, he grins. “Hi, Sloane.”
“How are you?” Her voice is effervescent. “How are things in the, uh, architecture business? Building stuff?”
Hugh’s smile widens and I can tell Sloane is melting. “Yeah, you know, we’re doing all right,” he says. But I know he’s being modest. “Not as well as coffee shops, though.” He glances over his shoulder at the room full of people.
“Yeah, well,” Sloane says, stretching out her back. “What can I say? The residents of this town have good taste.” She laughs. But when I look at her, the dread written across my face from the news I have to confess makes her smile falter. “I’ll leave you two alone and go get started on your favorites.”
Hugh turns to face me, his knees knocking into mine. “Thanks, Sloane,” he says, taking my hand. “So what’s new? How’s Ellory?”
I pinch my lips together. I can’t hide the fact that I’ve been fired from him. That Ellory and I are losing our home. But once I tell him, will he finally see what a disappointment I am? Will he still want to be with me? We haven’t been together long, but it doesn’t matter. I love him enough that his rejection would unimaginably sting.
I try to speak, but I can’t find the words. Hugh studies me intensely, cheeks reddened by the warmth of the café.
“Is everything okay?”
My shoulders deflate. It’s now or never. “I have a confession to make. I was let go today. From my job.”
Sloane gasps from the other end of the counter. I swear she’s a professional eavesdropper.
Hugh’s brows knit together as his fingers tighten around mine. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry, Iris. Why would they do that?”
“There’s more,” I say quickly. “I’m— We’re—” I close my eyes, force out the words. “I’ve lost our home. By Monday, Ellory and I need to be out.” Opening my eyes, I feel myself sway, unmoored, unsure if I did the right thing.
Hugh’s lips part ever so slightly. I pause, wait for him to speak. He doesn’t. For once, he has no perfect words. Silence fills the space between us. He leans back. His fingers loosen. I steel myself for rejection.
When he doesn’t say anything, I add, “You didn’t know this because every time you come over, I peel the eviction sign off the window. I have to somehow pay thousands in fees and back mortgage payments or move somewhere else with Ellory. In three days.”
I pick up my latte, drink it all in one panicked gulp. I just said that. I just said that. It’s out, it’s done, over, kaput. This is it—this is when he’ll break up with me. He has to. Anyone else would. They’d break up with me and walk away—run away—run from me and my problems and never look back.
But when I come up for air, Hugh smiles at me so wide and pure and perfect I nearly forget everything I just confessed.
“This is excellent timing.”
“What?”
Taking my hand again, he whispers, “I wish you told me things were this bad. I could’ve helped.”
“I don’t want help. I want to fix this on my own.”
“Iris, part of fixing something on your own is recognizing when you need to ask for help. Never be ashamed. You’ve done nothing wrong. Fuck, I can’t even imagine how hard it is. You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit. You horribly lost your husband, you raise your teenage daughter all by yourself, you try to do what’s best for her by working six, sometimes seven days a week. I mean, I think you owe yourself a little grace.”
“I do?”
“Hell yeah, you do. You’re my hero. You’re amazing.” Hugh searches my eyes with his, bright blue and shining like gems beneath the overhead lights, and I swear, for a moment, I feel weightless.
Sloane approaches, slowly looking back and forth between us as if wondering if this is a good time to serve us the apple pie she’s warmed for us.
“Thanks, Sloane,” Hugh says, slipping a fifty-dollar bill into the tip jar. When Hugh isn’t looking, she smiles at the jar, her expression radiant. “Iris, I have a confession of my own to make.”
I look at him and wait.
Hugh sips his cappuccino. “We’d have to iron out the details, and I want you to know I love you. No matter what happens. But I also need to be sure Ellory’s okay. She’s a part of you. You’re a package deal. Two for the price of one. As long as you and Ellory are safe, that’s what matters. Your goal is my goal.”
I relax, but only slightly. Suddenly, I feel hot. Too hot. What is he going to confess?
Hugh sips his cappuccino again, swirls it around the cup. “Do you ever wonder why we always meet at restaurants or the café or your place? Why you’ve never actually gone back to mine?”
He searches my face for a reaction. Oh, God, here it is. His secret. I control my breathing, try to stay cool. Supercool, cool as a cucumber.
“I’ve recently sold my house. It was too large for me, and my heart wasn’t in it anymore,” Hugh explains, gaze falling to the counter. “So for now, I’ve moved up to Greenwich Hills. It’s
only a thirty-minute drive from here and the house I’m staying at has room to spare. The only thing is…it’s my mother’s.”
I hold my breath. Each word he speaks feels monumental, somehow. A strange feeling swells inside me. A feeling like everything is about to change.
When I don’t reply, Hugh continues. “I’m going to stay with her awhile to help with some repairs around the house. With her hip, she can’t do much. And she refuses to let me bring in a crew.” He scratches the back of his neck, looks at me nervously as I mull over his words.
My heart slows. I exhale, try to stay positive. “It’s kind of you to help her.”
He gives a beguiling smile, showing a mouth of white, perfect teeth.
“I’m going to ask you something, and I hope you’ll accept.” My heart creeps back into my throat. “If you and Ellory wanted—my mother and I would love to have you.” Hugh sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, awaits my response.
I freeze. This is the last thing I expected.
My first reaction is to say no outright. I can’t take my daughter with me to move to a new town into a strange house with a woman we’ve never met. But I love Hugh. He’s sweet and caring and kind. This man is not an axe murderer.
Plus, saying no would mean my daughter and I would be forced to live in my car. If I can avoid that completely, I’m willing to take a chance. No, not even that. I’m willing to do whatever it takes.
Hugh clenches his jaw, muscles working, eyes sharp as he awaits my answer.
I look down at our hands, intermingled on my knee, and I think about something Sloane told me years ago when Ellory was entering middle school: If you don’t find ways to keep her mind occupied, someone else will. And that someone may not have good intentions at heart.
Her advice still rings true today: if I don’t find a place for Ellory to live—with me—she’ll most certainly find a place to live without me. And that place may not be safe.
I inhale a deep breath, hope I’m making the right choice.
“Yes.” I pause to look at him, unsure if I said the word aloud.
Hugh hesitates. “Really? You’re sure?”
I smile, bend forward, and kiss him, soft and sweet. “Yes, I’m sure. I mean, I have to talk to Ellory, but—yes.”
His face ignites with a grin. “You won’t regret it.” He taps his mug with mine. “I promise.”
Selected excerpt from THE FAMILY INSIDE by KATIE GARNER. Copyright © 2025 by Katie Garner. Published by MIRA Books, an imprint of HarperCollins.
