September 24th, 2026
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On Top Shelf
Fresh Pick
MEET CUTE MAGIC
📚 New Books This Week 📰 Latest News 🎪 Reader Games

Snowbound secrets, shifter wars, family lies, and epic battles — September delivers it all.

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Some promises cost you the one you love.

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The Temple of Kronos wants her dead. The Stoneslayer wants her destroyed. Neither will have her.

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A poisoned cousin, a five-year-old's life, and a family with too many secrets.

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Betrayal runs in her blood. Justice runs in his. Together, they burn it all down.

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"ANOTHER WINNER!"
From New York Times
Bestselling Cleo Coyle

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Running from her past, she finds a killer, a protector, and her faith.

THE SCALD-CROW
By: Grace Daly

Creature Publishing
October 2025
On Sale: October 14, 2025
258 pages
ISBN: 1951971310
EAN: 9781951971311
Trade Paperback
Add to Wish List

Horror | LGBTQ

Shot through with gallows humor and speaking in the voice of a trusted best friend, this self-deprecating horror novel explores medical trauma through Irish folklore, asking “Can a sick woman ever be trusted?"

 

Brigid—that’s the Irish Breej, not “Bridge-id,” though it’s not like she’d correct you—has had a rough go of it. Her mother abused her when she was little, her best friend (and secret crush) is too busy chasing some blonde to answer Brigid’s calls, and she lost her job thanks to chronic pelvic pain with no identifiable cause. As a self-doubting, disabled adult, she’s certain that everything that has happened to her is her fault.

Now her mother has gone missing and Brigid’s only option is to move back into her childhood home in the idyllic Midwestern town of St. Charles, Illinois. Soon the uncanny begins: A particular crow that once harassed her reappears, following her everywhere. A painting of Jesus keeps coming back, no matter how many times she throws it away. Frozen body parts show up in places rubber band balls and door stoppers ought to be. Every night the same nightmare repeats: her real mother is dead and decaying in the closet, and the identical mother who raised her is not her mother. But it’s all in Brigid’s head. It’s all her fault. It must be. What other explanation could there be?

After all, since when can a sick woman be trusted?

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