Published in September 2024, Don’t Eat the Pie is a debut novel from author Monique Asher. Reminiscent of Rosemary’s Baby, this story delivers on so many tropes it is doubtful that anyone will not find something to like within its pages. It is not only tropes that Asher has gone to town with. Don’t Eat the Pie is also a mishmash of horror sub-genres that somehow works without being obvious. Southern gothic, supernatural, cult, body horror; it’s all served up here.

The Plot.

Newlyweds Sam and Ben’s idyllic honeymoon is cut short when Ben’s elderly mother, Nadine, suffers a fall. The couple and Sam’s teenage daughter, Emma, relocate to Ben’s childhood home to care for her.

Ben’s mother, lives on the exclusive Camillia Island. A secluded haven of wealth and privilege, accessible only by a creaky drawbridge. Things are smooth at first but both mother and daughter begin to notice some peculiar occurrences: mysterious men in pink shirts, overheard whispers, and a strange aftertaste from a seemingly innocent dessert.

As the days pass, the island’s tranquillity is shattered by increasingly bizarre events. The once-familiar landscape transforms transforms and the true identities of the island’s residents remain shrouded in secrecy. Sam and Emma find themselves entangled in a web of intrigue, questioning their own connection to the island’s dark past. As the stakes rise, Sam and Emma must uncover the truth about Camillia Island and its inhabitants before it’s too late.

Highlights.

The way Asher has built this plot is genius. The abundance of tropes might leave readers assuming predictability. However, red herrings sprinkled throughout the chapters will leave you guessing but never quite certain who is friend and who is foe until the final chapters.

The way that Asher depicts the natural elements on Camillia Island is also worth mentioning as a highlight. Nature plays a big role in this plot and I confidently say that it is a character in its own right. It is not only the ubiquitous snakes and crows encroaching on the inhabited spaces that lend a sinister feeling.  The descriptions of the ocean surrounding the island, the vines and flowers that grow around the houses and even the scents permeating the breeze all combine to create a single force that drives the plot to its conclusion.

Drawbacks.

Don’t Eat the Pie is told through the alternating points of view of Samantha and her daughter Emma. This has become a popular way to narrate a story and I understand that it gives the writer a way to reveal information to the reader while still keeping specific characters in the dark. The problem is that if the voices are not distinct enough it can become confusing to differentiate who is telling the story, even if this is specified at the beginning of each chapter. This was the problem I encountered; Sam and Emma are so similar that I spent a lot of time turning back to the chapter headings to check who was telling the story at each point.

The Final Take.

I loved this story.

Don’t Eat the Pie has something for every horror reader. A Southern gothic, supernatural, occult, familicide, body horror… I could go on.

This was so close to the 5 out of 5 rating. It only missed out due to the alternating points of view causing some confusion because they were too similar.

(4.5 / 5)

You can’t beat a good old haunted house story. One of the classic tropes of the genre, it allows for some old-school spooks while providing some character development. Now dress it up in a new generation suit and you get something completely different. How does Haven measure up as an addition to the trope? Let’s find out!

Plot

We start the story with a family of four headed on a month-long holiday at a distant relative’s mansion. We have Jeff, the ever-so-average husband, Jenna, the thriller-reading health nut wife. The kids are JJ, the loner gamer son with a passion for swimming, and Jessie, the social media addict with severe insecurities.

I would say that personally, their dynamic was the most interesting and promising part of the novel. It’s clear from the get-go that Jeff and Jenna are trying against all odds to preserve the American Dream. Except right away there is resentment bubbling underneath. Jeff is a pretentious asshole who thinks Jenna’s taste in books is inferior (as a domestic thriller fan I take great offence). Jenna wishes for him to have more career ambition so she can afford the lifestyle she wants. Safe to say there is barely any intimacy between the couple.

When it comes to the kids, both JJ and Jessie feel like an extension of the worst traits of their parents. Jessie’s entire world is social media and her following. For JJ, he is arguably the character with the least development. His main traits are that he hates his family and can’t wait to move out. Oh, and the food.

This is something that I found more discomforting than the horror in the book. Both of the kids have severe food issues, with JJ overeating to the point of obesity while Jessie starves herself and has developed bulimia from the pressure to stay ‘perfect’. The horrifying thing is that neither of the parents notice these things about their kids or if they do, they choose to ignore it.

The haunting in this story is very family-focused. Missing things, Jenna’s harassment, Jeff’s seduction – all these things seem to be specifically catered to break whatever was left of this family unit. Not that it takes much to push them over the edge. This begs the question that whoever is haunting this place is methodical and feeds off their misery.

Gussie’s excerpts break up the pace but personally, I wasn’t as engaged with them as I was with the main story. That being said, I understand its necessity in order to develop the lore.

Writing style

I would say one of my biggest gripes with Haven is not the story itself but rather the way it’s told. The writing style seems like it was trying to adapt to the new times and be tongue-in-cheek. This has varying degrees of success, with some genuinely good nuggets of writing scattered. However, some of it falls flat, especially in the beginning, with the characters doubling down on the points we already knew through the narrative.

Overall thoughts

Haven is a good effort at a haunted house story where there are scarier things than ghosts. It does a good job exploring family dynamics and dealing with negative emotions. The setting is also a strong point of the novel, the house and the forest surrounding it being quite immersive.

As I mentioned, for me the main negative was a bit too try-hard type of writing, although it got better as the book went on. I found the end to be a bit too soft for my liking but it fits with the story. Overall I would still recommend.

A chilling blend of The Devil Wears Prada and classic ghost story. Tiny Threads by Lilliam Rivera is a gripping exploration of the fashion industry’s dark underbelly. Published in September 2024, this contemporary Latina horror novel delves into themes of gender, hierarchy, gentrification, and human trafficking. All while keeping readers on the edge of their seats with its supernatural elements.

The Plot.

When Samara, a young Cuban American woman, lands her dream job working as the Executive Director, Global Brand Voice for renowned fashion designer Antonio Mota, she cannot move away from Jersey and her close-knit, although sometimes suffocating, family fast enough. Arriving in Vernon, California, Samara hopes this could be a new start. She finds the people nice enough and her new apartment is to die for. She has even met a new love interest, a wealthy investor of Mota’s fashion line.

 If only she were not woken at 2am every morning by the mice living in the walls of her apartment. She also wishes the local abattoir was not so close by. It gives off the stench of death that the locals refer to as ‘the Vernon perfume’.

However, beneath the surface, cracks begin to appear. A reoccurring name, a rude seamstress and a spontaneously appearing and disappearing model, it doesn’t take long before her fragile sense of normalcy begins to unravel .

As the pressure mounts to deliver a successful fashion show, Samara’s coping mechanisms spiral out of control. She turns to alcohol and pills, blurring the lines between reality and dream. With her sanity teetering on the edge, Samara faces a critical choice: succumb to the darkness or fight for a brighter future, even if it means confronting a trauma she thought she had left all but forgotten.

Highlights.

One of the highlights of Tiny Threads is the inclusion of Spanish dialogue. In many stories featuring multilingual characters, the non-English language is often translated directly into the text or presented in a different font. However, Rivera has chosen to maintain the original Spanish, which I found refreshing and immersive. Translating certain songs and names, such as the name ‘Piedad,’ which means ‘Pity,’ enriched my understanding of the story. In regards to this, I was very glad that I was reading on my Kindle with the translation tool open and ready.

Drawbacks.

Don’t begin this book expecting a constant barrage of ghosts and supernatural occurrences. Tiny Threads is a more of a slow-burn psychological horror novel, where the otherworldly elements are subtle and understated. The narrative takes an unexpected turn into a revenge story, which is both surprising and satisfying.

I think the main drawback is the repetition of Samara’s days. This might have been purposeful representing the drudgery she was experiencing in a world that is toted as being glamorous and vibrant, but it slows down the pacing and deadened the tension of the story. The repetition began to feel like Groundhog Day. The only thing that drove time forward was the buildup to the fashion show which is counted down in each chapter. The final quarter of the book, culminating in said dramatic fashion show, picks up the pace significantly.

The Final Take.

Tiny Threads is a supernatural horror where the ghosts, surprisingly, aren’t the most terrifying aspect. Rivera expertly captures the harsh realities faced by lower-level fashion industry employees and the lengths people go to for success in this often brutal field. Despite its difficulties with repetition and pacing, this is a must-read for those who appreciate a complex protagonist grappling with self-deception. Rivera’s Tiny Threads is a thought-provoking exploration of the fashion industry’s darker side.

(3 / 5)