Jeneva Rose steps away from thriller twists for Sometimes I Scare Myself, her first horror short story collection built from three dread soaked novellas. Ginger Nuts of Horror talks to her about Never Kill the Medium, The Nightmare House, All Curses Are Final, and why postpartum horror turned out to be the perfect ground for stories with no reckoning at the end.
Joshua Chaplinsky’s The Man in the Watch Still Visits Me at Night is a surreal, multi-timeline haunted house novel about the ways abuse gets passed down through a family like an heirloom nobody wants. The first third asks more patience than it gives back, but once the Vogel House’s true shape emerges, this becomes one of the more genuinely upsetting horror novels of the year.
Tatiana Schlote-Bonne talks cave horror for her new book What Feeds Below. She built the Void’s monsters from cordyceps and deep sea life, with roots in Made in Abyss. She also traces the path from Such Lovely Skin and The Mean Ones to a close, risky friendship built to survive a pit that wants to eat it.
Peter Neal’s Gods of the New Age Makes a Weapon of Kindness In Gods of the … Peter Neal’s Gods of the New Age Makes a Weapon of KindnessRead more
Hailey Piper sits down with Ginger Nuts of Horror to discuss This Movie Doesn’t End the Way We Want, her second novel steeped in Robert W. Chambers’ King in Yellow. She talks through the Toad Man, the cursed film at its centre, and why she calls horror the most honest genre. Titan Books publishes the cosmic horror on 15 September 2026.
Jessica Hamilton’s folk horror debut sends a grieving mother into a haunted wood that offers her family a second life, at a price only she has to pay. A true crime podcast framing device and a bold menopause-as-horror metaphor make this one of the more inventive femgore entries this year, even when it over-explains its own best idea.
Jessica Hamilton gives Ginger Nuts of Horror a horror interview on The Woods, her first novel billed outright as horror after two books sold as thrillers. She digs into the femgore wave, her admiration for Marcus Kliewer, and the menopause motif running beneath the supernatural one in this domestic horror novel.
China Miéville returns after fourteen years with The Rouse, a vast work of weird fiction that folds grief, war and necromancy into a single twentieth-century epic. It is a formidable, demanding ghost story, and it rewards patience far more than it courts it. Our four-star review sorts the wonder from the sheer weight of the thing.
