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P.J. Larkin is a writer on the brink of giving up, her manuscript rejected, her patience worn thin. George Dunn is everything she is not: established, successful, suddenly flush with a million-dollar deal for a novel that looks, at least from the outside, uncomfortably familiar. What happens next is impulsive, almost careless—a social media post—and yet it detonates with absolute precision. Careers begin to unravel. Narratives take shape. Sides are chosen long before facts ha

And yet, that ambition is part of what makes Lost Lambs worth reading. It is not content to remain contained, to limit itself to the familiar satisfactions of the family novel. It wants to connect private disintegration to something systemic, to suggest that the instability within the Flynn household is not entirely separate from the structures surrounding it.

King Sorrow is less interested in what begins than in what continues. Joe Hill’s novel follows six friends bound by an occult pact that refuses to remain in the past, unfolding into a quiet, sustained study of responsibility, complicity, and the weight of carrying something forward.