after what should have been a routine bank robbery goes profoundly and irreparably tits up, anne, frantic and desperate with no other viable options, drives herself, the money, her wounded friend, and a hastily-kidnapped cop into the mountains to hole up in the cabin she hasn't set foot in since fleeing in the middle of the night decades ago while being pursued by some kind of Uncanny Thing - surprising to no one, not long into their stay, a fucked up, unholy monstrosity arrives on their doorstep and anne finds herself with no choice but to trust her cop captive, and the two set off together on what, because i am not a wordsmith, i can only describe as an Epic Quest.
LISTEN!!!! this FUCKED! i was not expecting this to fuck even half as hard as it fucked. i was sucker punched by the severity of.. fucking. absolutely in the running for favorite book of the year. this was soooooo much. the flawlessly woven threads of supernatural grotesquery and mystery and unrepentant, vicious, balls to the wall violence and grief and courage reminded me of fever house, which, if you have never heard me wax poetic about that masterpiece, is a huge compliment.
i was so wholly immersed in this shit. when the book ended i felt like i was suddenly blinking away harsh sunlight and struggling to breath air after spending 450 pages in the depths. the prose, amongst all of the nonstop, anxiety inducing fuckery, was beautiful. the cat lives. i laughed, i wept, i gasped out loud, i was absolutely repulsed by both characters and imagery. i don't know, my dudes. i cannot say enough good things about this book, and i can say only one bad thing: matthew lyons made me give a shit about a cop. i am furious.
i obviously recommend this, holy shit - 🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷
thanks to belladonna lestrange for passing her extra arc along to me💚
a mask of flies will be available on august 6th via tor nightfire
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