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)

After her 2017 debut novel, If We Were Villains, captivated readers and skyrocketed to Tik Tok fame readers have been holding their collective breath for anything from M. L. Rio. Seven years later we are presented with Graveyard Shift, another dark academic horror, though a novella this time around. The question is, was it worth the wait and why are readers split in their reactions to this story?

The Plot.

In the opening scene of Graveyard Shift readers encounter five people who often meet in a graveyard on smoke breaks from their various nocturnal jobs.

 On the night in question, they discover a freshly dug hole near where they regularly gather. This sounds unremarkable until they realize that no one has been interred in this graveyard for over one hundred years. With the mystery revealed each character returns to their night, each eager to find the purpose of the hole.

Highlights.

Writing a novella that includes the viewpoints of five main characters is a considerable feat. Despite allowing only two chapters for each character in the entire story M. L. Rio successfully juggles these viewpoints without dropping any balls. From the driven editor-in-chief Edie Wu to the enigmatic Tuck. Each character possesses a distinct voice and plays a crucial role in unraveling the mystery. Whether it’s the insomniac ride-share driver Hannah or the bartender at Rocker Box. Each character stands apart, making this novella a compelling read.

Another highlight of this novella is that this is not just another horror novel claiming to be dark academia because it’s set in or near a university. This story is soaked in the academic and the dark side of medical research.

Drawbacks.

The length of this story really went against M. L. Rio, there was so much expectation and hype around its release that when the 100-odd-page story was delivered there were many sighs of disappointment.

And it is not just reader expectation that caused the length to work against her. It must be said that the complexity of the story and the depth that Rio goes to to set up each character would have benefited from being rounded out by another, let’s say 200 pages. The last chapters seem rushed and the ending is ambiguous to say the least, but not in a good way.

I read this on a Kindle and was confused by the story ending at 85%, then slightly angry that the remaining pages were filled by a playlist, an excerpt of If We Were Villains and cocktail recipes??? Although I usually enjoy this type of extra content in fiction, I think Rio’s time might have been better spent writing a few more chapters.

The Final Take.

I approached Graveyard Shift with high expectations, but was ultimately disappointed. While the novel’s form, with its focus on multiple perspectives, initially drew me in, the abrupt and unsatisfying conclusion left me wanting more. Presenting this story as a novella did not do justice to the characters of the story. The mystery of the empty grave was intriguing, and following each character through their nocturnal routines was enjoyable. However, the rushed ending undermined the overall experience.

(2 / 5)

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)