Hey guys,

Our March book will be The Correspondent by Virginia Evans! Thanks to all who votes. Some really good picks this month, so I'll definitely recycle them for other months.

As a reminder, the meeting will be at 8pm ET on March 28th. Link to come!

Happy March everyone!! time to announce the DYSTOPIAN and thriller book we will be reading in March!

Dystopian: DAGGERMOUTH

Thriller: THE MAD WIFE

I am genuinely so excited for both of these reads. Please join my discord so we can hold discussions! I think we will particularly like discussing the newest Internet sensation, Daggermouth.

I will be listening to the Mad Wife on audio!

Hi Disco Dancers!

I’m doing the official cover reveal for my book THIS IS HOW THE WORLD ENDS on Wednesday on social media, but I wanted to give you a sneak peek ahead of time (please don’t share it until then). Preorders will also be launching on Wednesday.

My queer dystopian novella is coming!

Here’s the blurb:

Run the race. Or die.

Britain is at war, isolated by a digital blockade. 

Dissidents run a deadly race for the public’s entertainment, while the flood-ravaged country falls apart. The Cartwright family tries to soldier on, refusing to give in to fear. But when catastrophe looms, Emma Cartwright flees – only to find that life beyond the border is anything but safe. 

The fight for survival has begun. 

This is how the world ends.

And here’s the cover! Designed by the incredible Drew Huff:

I love it so much!

Love,

Disco

My friend, did you hear the good news?! 🎉 Bindery members will now receive ARCs (advanced reader copies) as part of your membership perks instead of finished copies!

What does this mean? You will no longer have to wait until a few months before publication to read a Cozy Quill title, you’ll be reading early!

And our very first ARC under this new magic? ✨ Twigs Traveling Tomes by Gryffin Murphy ✨ So much to celebrate today!

Here’s how it works:

🌱 $5 Shire Sprouts receive an e-ARC (Open to our international, of course. We see you and your teacups across the sea!).

🥐 $12 Second Breakfast Club members will also receive a physical ARC (US only). Plus, you'll have your name printed in the acknowledgements section of our books, which is so special.

Truly, this publishing program exists because of you. Your support makes books like Twigs Traveling Tomes possible. After you’ve had a chance to read, we would be so grateful if you left early (honest) reviews on retailer or review sites and shared the title with your fellow romantasy-loving friends. Word-of-mouth helps more than you know!

You are not just members. You are part of this team. We couldn’t do this without you.

If you’ve been thinking about upgrading, consider this your gentle nudge.

UPGRADE BY TOMORROW TO SNAG YOUR ARC! xx, Meg

You shouldn't buy books from Amazon. You know it, I know it, your local indie bookstore DEFINITELY KNOWS IT, and honestly, the ghost of every independent bookseller who ever lived knows it too. So why do you still buy from the zon? Because it's cheap.

Yes, I know that capitalism is guttering out its last dying breaths as 5 people hoard most of the wealth while the economy fizzles so far they no longer actually even post the unemployment rate publicly anymore. So why am I telling you to spend more money? Please let me try to convince you with this numbered list because I'm a NUMBERS GIRLIE (see, this is why you should listen to me — how many other bisexuals are good at math? I contain multitudes AND a spreadsheet. 'Tis the tism m'lord.) If you're already convinced, feel free to scroll past this part. If you're not, I will be employing the ancient necromantic art of capitalism critique to raise your righteous fury from the dead.

Amazon is not always the cheapest! Yes, I know they've attempted to convince you otherwise. But they are operating on the grocery store model — get you in the door with "deals" on items you already know the price of, like milk and bread, while price gouging you on the things you don't, like a jar of pepperoncinis or your sense of self worth. If you consistently price check them like I do, you'll find that especially on smaller items, they've rolled that shipping cost right into the price. Free shipping my slowly rounding ass.

Diapers.com. If you haven't heard me rant about this, buckle up. Diapers.com had a great subscription price on diapers and wipes. Amazon rolls in with a program called "Amazon Mom," undercuts their price into the ground, and erodes the company's entire customer base. Amazon buys Diapers.com. Amazon shuts them down. Amazon IMMEDIATELY jacks the prices back up and shutters the Amazon Mom program. Everyone now pays more for the exact same service. This is not a bug. This is the business model. And they are doing it to books — selling them at a loss to put every brick and mortar bookstore out of business. And when we can only buy books from them? Those prices are going WAY UP. We are officially in the Ninth circle of Hell.

Writers are poor. There are a handful making a good living at this, but most are creating their art on the side while crying quietly into their $5.10 royalty checks. And Amazon exploits them like they exploit their workers and suppliers — a proud tradition of harm, democratized. They have a history of allowing customers to return read books and making the author pay the refund. They auto-enroll books into Kindle Select so authors have to go in and manually opt out every 90 days, lest their books remain Amazon-exclusive indefinitely like some kind of publishing purgatory. They're pushing to make Amazon Exclusive titles unavailable in libraries. They roll out new AI features and don't bother letting authors opt out. Cool cool cool, no notes, everything is fine, the house is not on fire, ignore the smell.

So where should you buy instead?

From the author If you're reading indie or smaller authors, many sell directly from their own websites — sometimes cheaper, sometimes signed, sometimes in "scratch and dent" copies for the chaotic good readers among us. Why are they cheaper direct? Because Amazon charges them more than other outlets. I know. I KNOW.

Bookshop.org If you can't find an author site, your second best online option is this one. A portion of the sale goes directly to an independent bookstore of your choosing. Support your local store, or support a black woman owned store like Sistah Sci-fi! They have ebooks too, so check here first!

Libro.fm is where I have my audiobook subscription. My library card gets me Libby, but they don't always have what I want, so this is my backup. Also shares profits with an indie bookstore of your choice. It's lawful good (get it, like awful good? "Yes... Some rigor...mortis", said Gideon, who thought that puns were automatically funny.)

Pango Books is the eBay of books — individual sellers listing new, gently used, and collectible copies, with the profit going directly to other humans trying to survive late stage capitalism. They now have make-an-offer functionality like Mercari. Prices are often cheaper than other secondhand platforms because lots of people just want shelf space back. (It's me, hi, I'm the problem it's me)

Your Local Library Besties, I know you want to hoard the books like a little dragon. So do I. But I often don't even know if I'll like something before I buy it — and my library is always the first place I check. I can almost guarantee yours has ebooks and audiobooks available online without you ever having to put pants on. Though for your mental health, you should probably try to leave the house occasionally. WITH PANTS. as I sit in a dark room typing a blog on my computer to a group of people who are sitting in a dark room scrolling on their phones.

The thrift store Last but not least: if a book has been popular, there's a copy at Goodwill for $1.50. (It used to be $1 but even the thrift store experiences inflation. Yaaaaay late stage capitalism!) My kids love those terrible Diary of a Wimpy Kid books and while I have opinions, I don't actually care — as long as they're READING, I'm not complaining. The thrift store always has copies. And while I know the proceeds don't go to the author, sometimes you just don't have the cash for new books. (I have a whole other post about how to get books for free, you can read that here.)

I know there is an entire other conversation to be had about KU and the indie authors who make their money there. I have thoughts... you won't like them. I don't like them. Those are for another day. But feel free to berate me in the comment section today. Your attention feeds the poor. Like, literally. I donate all proceeds from this hobby of mine to marginalized communities.

If there is any exception for "there is no ethical consumption under capitalism," I'm going to say it's books and food, because both, in my opinion, are necessary to live, body and soul.

If you liked this and want more of whatever THIS is — unhinged book analysis, barely contained rage at the state of the world, and occasional Tamsyn Muir references that I will never apologize for — consider subscribing for $5/month. Every cent goes to people who actually need it, because I have a day job and a cause, not a brand deal. This is my middle finger to Big 5 publishing, dressed up as a book blog. Come hold it up with me.

Hello my darlings! I've started Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter and I'm hooked already. My question for today is, would you rather have us host the Book Club chat and read-react on Instagram, or on Discord?

I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Here's the graphic for our schedule - remember you can start anytime and read at our own pace, this is just a suggestion! Wherever we end up with our chat, I'll try to impose some safeguards against spoilers. :)

Some reflecitons on my reading stats this month:

• This month was by far the most books I've read in a month in a long time. It was so fun just loooooving reading. It brought me so much joy.

• Although most books I read this month were just okay, I still had a great time, which is all that matters.

Favorite non-fiction book: "Original Sins" by Eve L. Ewing

Synopsis: Why don’t our schools work? Eve L. Ewing tackles this question from a new angle: What if they’re actually doing what they were built to do? She argues that instead of being the great equalizer, America’s classrooms were designed to do the opposite: to maintain the nation’s inequalities. It’s a task at which they excel.

Review: I'm so mad at myself because I've had an arc of this book for over a year now and it took me this long to read it. This book desperately made me want to become a teacher again and I think it's absolutely required reading for all educators. The bibiliography of this book alone is enough to recommend it--so impressive! And I got chills reading the last chapter.

Favorite fiction book: "A Mouth Full of Salt" by Reem Gaafar

Synopsis: "A Mouth Full of Salt" uncovers a country on the brink of seismic change as its women decide for themselves which traditions are fit for purpose – and which prophecies it’s time to rewrite

Review: While the pace of the beginning of this book was a little slow, I was wholly captivated by it. Such a powerful mix of mystery, tension, and folklore. It’s an important look at Sudanese history and the racism/classism present in its past that still dictates its future. And the ending? It hit me in the chest; absolute perfection.

What I’ve added to my TBR (to-be-read)

• "Japan's Infamous Unit 731" by Hal Gold: This is a piece of history I knew nothing about, so naturally now I need to know everything.

• "Shorelines" by Alycia Pirmohamed: A memoir that explores migration, memory, and home.

• "Our Cut of Salt" by Deena Helm: A Palestinian horror from a debut author that explores the idea of home.

• "Exiles" by Mason Coile: I've been coming to realize that I really like short sci-fi books, so I had to add this one to my list.
  
  

🎬Books to Screen in 2026: The Adaptations We’re Already Emotional About

2026 is about to wreck our TBRs and our tear ducts. From devastating romance to witchy family curses to dystopian arena trauma, some of our favorite and most unhinged reads are officially heading to the big screen.

Here’s your ultimate guide to the upcoming book-to-movie adaptations you need on your radar.

💔Reminders of Him

In Theaters: March 13, 2026
Based on Reminders of Him by Colleen Hoover

If you’ve read Reminders of Him, you already know this one is going to hurt.

Kenna Rowan returns home after five years in prison, desperate to reconnect with the daughter she hasn’t seen since she was a baby. But forgiveness doesn’t come easily in a town that hasn’t forgotten. The only person who offers her even a sliver of grace is Ledger Ward and their connection could cost them everything.

Expect:

• Emotional courtroom-level tension

• Small-town judgment

• Slow-burn romance

• Ugly crying in the parking lot after the movie

CoHo fans, prepare yourselves. This one is going to be heavy, healing, and probably wildly successful.

👠Revenge Wears Prada: The Devil Returns

In Theaters: May 1, 2026
Based on Revenge Wears Prada: The Devil Returns by Lauren Weisberger

Andy Sachs is back and apparently karma is too.

Nearly a decade after escaping Runway magazine, Andy is thriving. She’s co-running a chic bridal magazine, engaged to media royalty, and living her best glossy life. But on the morning of her wedding, secrets resurface and so does the shadow of Miranda Priestly.

This sequel brings:

• High fashion drama

• Wedding-day suspense

• Female rivalry turned alliance

• The devil in couture again

If you loved The Devil Wears Prada, this comeback is going to be dripping in designer tension.

🐙Remarkably Bright Creatures

Streaming on Netflix: May 8, 2026
Based on Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt

Yes, the octopus book is coming to Netflix. And yes, we are absolutely watching it.

Tova Sullivan works nights at the Sowell Bay Aquarium while quietly carrying decades of grief over her son’s mysterious disappearance. Enter Marcellus a highly intelligent, deeply observant giant Pacific octopus who might know more than he lets on.

This adaptation promises:

• Found family vibes

• Coastal mystery energy

• Grief and healing

• An unexpectedly lovable, grumpy octopus

If Netflix gets this right, it could be the feel-everything comfort drama of the year.

✨The Book of Magic Practical Magic #2

In Theaters: September 18, 2026
Based on The Book of Magic by Alice Hoffman

The Owens women are back and the family curse is on borrowed time.

When Aunt Jet hears the deathwatch beetle and knows she has seven days left to live, the Owens family must come together to finally break the three-hundred-year-old curse that has doomed them in love.

We’re getting:

• Multi-generational witchy chaos

• Family secrets

• Atmospheric European settings

• Love vs. destiny stakes

If you adore cozy magic with emotional depth, this one is about to cast a spell on theaters.

🔥Sunrise on the Reaping

In Theaters: November 20, 2026
Based on Sunrise on the Reaping by Suzanne Collins

We are going back to Panem and this time, it’s Haymitch’s story.

Set during the fiftieth Hunger Games the brutal Quarter Quell that doubled the tributes, this prequel follows a young Haymitch Abernathy as he’s ripped from District 12 and thrown into an arena designed for failure.

Translation:

• Twice the tributes

• Twice the trauma

• Capitol cruelty dialed up

• Emotional devastation guaranteed

If you thought you were done crying over District 12 think again.

🖤Verity

In Theaters: October 2, 2026
Based on Verity by Colleen Hoover

And yes CoHo is taking over 2026.

Lowen Ashleigh is hired to finish bestselling author Verity Crawford’s series after a mysterious accident leaves Verity incapacitated. But while sorting through notes, Lowen discovers a hidden autobiography filled with horrifying confessions.

This one will deliver:

• Psychological suspense

• Moral gray choices

• A love triangle that feels wrong

• That ending everyone argues about
  

If done well, this could be one of the most talked-about thrillers of the year.

🎥2026 Is the Year of Emotional Damage

Romance. Fashion. Witches. Octopuses. Dystopian arenas. Unhinged manuscripts.

Whether you’re a CoHo devotee, a Hunger Games loyalist, or just here for designer drama, 2026 is absolutely stacked with adaptations that are going to dominate book clubs and group chats alike.

So tell me which one are you watching opening weekend? 🍿📚

Run. Request. Read. Review!

I am so, so excited for folks to start reading What Feeds Below, by Tatiana Schlote Bonne, the very first book from this imprint!

This is a YA Horror Fantasy that is unputdownable!

Let me know if you requested down below!

Request here

Wow, so I probably should have checked the page count of The Ascended because it's over 700 pages long! The past couple of weeks have been a bit nightmare-ish because both babies got sick with a cold and then my husband and I caught said cold. I lost my voice on Saturday and I'm just now starting to recover but taking care of sick kiddos when you're also sick? iykyk

I digress. To be fully transparent, I don't think I've ever finished reading a book that's over 400 pages long in a single month. Books that are around 350 pages? No problem. With that being said, I'm going to extend our Book Club pick from February (which is The Ascended) into the month of March. That'll give me enough time to finish it and gather my thoughts to discuss with you all! I'm currently 50% of the way through, which (shocker) is equivalent to around 350 pages anyways. I'll have to keep that in mind for our future Book Club picks!

I came from a family of readers, and I’m excited to be raising a new one.

Over dinner last night, my mom was talking to my beginner reader about the books she could request from her school librarian. “You could ask for a Junie B. Jones book.”

Without skipping a beat, my daughter responded, “No, I would ask for a Harry Potter book.”

I hope this comes as no surprise, but I’m anti-JKR and her band of TERFs. I had no intention to introduce my daughter to Harry Potter, though I dreamed of doing so back in the day (I’m a good Millennial, after all).

I’m also anti-censorship and believe strongly in letting my kid read what they choose.

So what is a parent to do? I’ll tell you what I will do.

I won’t be telling my daughter she can’t read Harry Potter (or any other book).

I will approach with curiosity her desire to read these books. I’ll share why I chose to stop reading them, talking through the harm that has been caused in an age-appropriate way. If she still wants to read them, we’ll get them from the library and read and discuss together.

To me, this is far more useful to raising a kind, critically-thinking child than any book ban.

The Count of Monte Cristo is the Booksworn Bookclub book for March. Who has already read it? Who will be joining us?

First Swords and Bright Stars can now join the chat over on Discord!

February was a mix of genre fiction, literary fiction, memoir, and steamy romance with some banned books thrown in.

The Devils (Amazon/Bookshop) by Joe Abercrombie. February’s pick for my boys book club. It reads like a well-executed Dungeons & Dragons campaign, which is a good thing. A Suicide Squad-like group of ne’er-do-wells are press-ganged into service by a fictionalized, women-led Catholic Church in a fantasy medieval Europe where Carthage’s witchdoctors built Venice, the Pope is a ten-year-old girl (and the most gifted magic user in her generation), and human-eating elves have taken over the Holy Land. I laughed more during this book than any other read in recent memory.

Kitchen Confidential (Amazon/Bookshop) by Anthony Bourdain. One of my favorite memoirs and also the rare book that perhaps works even better as an audiobook, delivered of course by the inimitable Bourdain. The book captures Bourdain’s life as a chef before he became a global phenomenon, and if you’re unfamiliar with that period of his life, I highly recommend giving it a read (or listen!).

The Edge of Sadness (Amazon) by Edwin O’Connor. I read this book with TikTok’s excellent Panic_Kyle as part of his ongoing series in which he is reading all the Pulitzer Prize-winning novels. This winner from 1962 follows an Irish-American Catholic priest who finds himself unexpectedly entangled with a sprawling family from his past. I loved this book, which has been largely forgotten, and I highly encourage you to give the description a read and see if you might like it too.

Ejaculate Responsibly (Amazon/Bookshop) by Gabrielle Blair. This book should be taught in schools. Truly, you can read it in under an hour and—in particular—I think it will change the way men look at certain responsibilities.

More Heated Rivalry, specifically Game Changer (Amazon/Bookshop) and The Long Game (Amazon/Bookshop) by Rachel Reid. What can I say? They’re fun brain candy to listen to while I’m doing dishes. I do a lot of dishes. Game Changer is actually the first book in the series, although it’s adapted into Season 1 of Heated Rivalry as a sub-plot, and The Long Game is the sixth book, but the most direct continuation of Ilya & Shane’s story. Having listened to it, I’m ready for Heated Rivalry season two!

The Snowy Day (Amazon/Bookshop) by Ezra Jack Keats. Apparently everyone on Earth except me knew about this beloved 1962 children’s classic, following a young boy named Peter during an unexpected snow day in the city. I found out about it during a visit to the New York Public Library’s Polonsky Treasures exhibition, where the most checked out copy is on display, because The Snowy Day is the most checked out book in the history of the NYPL.

Gender Queer (Amazon/Bookshop) by Maia Kobabe. I’ve started a regular series reading and discussing banned books over on social media and I kicked it off with this graphic novel, which has become one of the most banned books in America. Kobabe is nonbinary and uses e/eir pronouns. Gender Queer is eir memoir of coming to terms with eir identity and is about as harmless as can be. I also happen to think it’s a great introduction to aspects of the gender spectrum many people might not have a lot of familiarity with.

Flamer (Amazon/Bookshop) by Mike Curato. The second banned book we looked at, Flamer is a semi-autobiographical story influenced by Curato’s own experiences as a closeted teen with a Catholic upbringing and his experiences with the Boy Scouts in the summer of 1995. Another quick, great read which doesn’t deserve any of the pushback it’s gotten.

Friends! Enemies! Everyone in between!

I hope you're all doing as best as you can be and taking care of yourselves. It's time to vote for the April book club!

A traditional American woman, a beautiful wife and mother who sells her pioneer lifestyle of raw milk and farm-fresh eggs to her millions of social media followers, suddenly awakens cold, filthy, and terrified in the brutal reality of 1855—where she must unravel whether this living nightmare is an elaborate hoax, a twisted reality show, or something far more sinister in this sensational debut novel.

My name was Natalie Heller Mills, and I was perfect at being alive.

Natalie lives a traditional lifestyle. Her charming farmhouse is rustic, her husband a handsome cowboy, her six children each more delightful than the last. So what if there are nannies and producers behind the scenes, her kitchen hiding industrial-grade fridges and ovens, her husband the heir to a political dynasty? What Natalie’s followers—all 8 million of them—don’t know won’t hurt them. And The Angry Women? The privileged, Ivy League, coastal elite haters who call her an antifeminist iconoclast? They’re sick with jealousy. Because Natalie isn’t simply living the good life, she’s living the ideal—and just so happens to be building an empire from it.

Until one morning she wakes up in a life that isn’t hers. Her home, her husband, her children—they’re all familiar, but something’s off. Her kitchen is warmed by a sputtering fire rather than electricity, her children are dirty and strange, and her soft-handed husband is suddenly a competent farmer. Just yesterday Natalie was curating photos of homemade jam for her Instagram, and now she’s expected to haul firewood and handwash clothes until her fingers bleed. Has she become the unwitting star of a ruthless reality show? Could it really be time travel? Is she being tested by God? By Satan? When Natalie suffers a brutal injury in the woods, she realizes two things: This is not her beautiful life, and she must escape by any means possible.

A gripping, electrifying novel that is as darkly funny as it is frightening, Yesteryear is a gimlet-eyed look at tradition, fame, faith, and the grand performance of womanhood.

In a powerfully imagined Russia at the height of the pogroms, a grief-stricken family turn to ancient magic to bring their daughter back from the grave. 

Yetta is a bright, quick teenage girl with a wild, searching spirit. Stifled by her mother’s anxiety, her father’s rules, and the path that’s been laid out for her, she craves freedom, the edges of which she doesn’t know. But her family has reason to be cautious and restrictive. Fear has wrapped itself around their shtetl. Jews are mysteriously disappearing, and there are whispers of an impending attack. When violence comes to their door, Yetta is killed. 

Her father, in his grief, fumbles through his nascent knowledge of ancient texts and old magic to bring her back. By some miracle, Yetta is returned—but although she looks the same, she is not the girl she once was. Yetta senses there is a secret her family is keeping from her. The answer resides, in part, in the creature lurking in the woods beyond the shtetl―something that may be of her father’s making, and a being that has plans of its own.

A taboo-bursting, personal and cultural tour through different sexual fetishes that asks: Do we have the courage to look at our desires directly, and express them unapologetically?

The smell of leather. The flash of a harness. The snap of a latex glove. Welcome to the radical, vibrant world of sexual fetishists.

In twenty-first-century commodity culture, we are all intimately involved with objects: we covet a Birkin bag; we keep sneakers box-fresh. We are all, in a sense, all fetishists. But occasionally this desire spills into something more subversive. Second Skin offers a tour through the materials, objects, and power dynamics commonly fetishised, unpacking their histories, their expressive potential, and the communities they give rise to. Drawing from her encounters with fellow fetishists and kinksters, it is also the story of Anastasiia Fedorova’s own journey of what it means to come to terms with one’s sexuality.

Moving between memoir, cultural criticism, reportage, erotic writing, and social history, Second Skin is a researched and topical book that encourages us to rethink how we see not only our own desires, but the world that creates them.

A portrait of three women connected through one man in the aftermath of his murder—a stunning literary achievement and the explosive and highly anticipated debut novel from beloved award-winning memoirist T Kira Madden. Presented as a multicast recording, this production brings each voice vividly to life, deepening the novel’s exploration of varied perspectives and interconnected lives.

Birdie Chang didn’t know anything about Whidbey Island when she chose it, only that it was about as far away as she could get from her own life. She’s a woman on the run, desperate for an escape from the headlines back home and the look of concern in her girlfriend’s eyes—and from Calvin Boyer, the man who abused her as a child and who’s now resurfaced. On her way, she has an unnerving encounter with a stranger on the ferry who offers her a proposition, a sinister solution and plan for revenge.

But Birdie isn’t the only girl Calvin harmed back then. There’s also Linzie King, a former reality TV star who recently wrote all about it in her bestselling memoir. Though the two women have never met, their stories intertwine. Once Birdie arrives on Whidbey, she finally cracks the book’s spine, only to find too much she recognizes in its pages. Soon after, on the other side of the country, Calvin’s loving mother, Mary-Beth, receives a shocking phone call from the police: her only son has been murdered.

Calvin’s death sets into motion a series of events that sends each woman on a desperate search for answers. A complex whodunit told from alternating points of view, Whidbey is searingly perceptive and astonishingly original. Exploring the long reach of violence and our flawed systems of incarceration and rehabilitation, this is a tense and provocative debut that’s sure to incite crucial questions about the pursuit of justice and who has real power over a story: the one who lives it, or the one who tells it?

Four very compelling choices! Happy voting and remember we are reading Now I Surrender by Alvaro Enrigue in March, today is your last day to sign up.

Love what we do? Become a paid subscriber for less than a cup of coffee a month. Your ongoing support helps us plan ahead, fund causes we care about, and create meaningful programming for our community.

I still have 60 or so books left for sale! I’ve added a 10 percent discount. If I don’t sell it by 3/13, they’ll all go to free little libraries!

Check out the books

I’m adding a What Feeds Below bookmark to all orders and will add a What Feeds Below coloring page to all orders over $40 (before discount!)

Wind whips the flaps of the tent as I wait for Holt to return inside. It’s pitch black out with the chirp of crickets and hoots of owls keeping me company.

I reposition in the sleeping bag, wishing that the lumpy ground was my soft mattress. I've never been a big fan of the outdoors, but my husband is. So, like any great marriage, we compromise. I let Holt drag me out to various forests for camping and hiking every few months, and he lets me stay at home and work on my  art. 

I’m a painter, painting anything from beautiful landscapes to the macabre. My biggest art piece I ever sold was a painting of a skeleton on the mossy forest floor, flowers and vines intertwined between ribcages. I had Holt to thank for that one after finding an animal skeleton with foliage growing from it on one of our camping trips. 

This trip he chose the Virginia wilderness–a forest outside of a small town named Point Pleasant. Apparently, in the sixties, several people claimed to have seen a red-eyed moth like figure that stood as tall as a human. The figure, now known as Mothman, is a cryptid in league with Bigfoot and The Loch Ness Monster. Holt thought it’d be a great inspiration for a future painting. What he didn’t realize was that a mothman festival took place annually every third weekend in September. So, between the statue of Mothman in the city, and the endless posters, plushes, and costumes at the festival, I’d say I’ve got enough inspiration to fill a small book full of paintings. 

They even held bus tours of the tnt bunkers that Mothman was supposedly spotted in. 

All I can say is this town sure is dedicated to their fuzzy monster.

A distant howl snaps me back to the present. My hair stands on edge alon my arms and the back of my neck. The night has grown cold without Holt beside me to keep me warm. 

“Holt? You almost done?” I ask as I throw the sleeping bag off my legs.

I stick my head out of the tent and peer around the woods. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the dim moonlight. Our campfire has dwindled to merely embers now, offering nothing more than a small, warm glow. 

“Holt? Honey, where are you? Did you get lost going to the bathroom?” 

I don’t want to venture out of the tent if I can avoid it. The forest at night gives me the creeps. I’ve seen the Blair Witch Project and know bad things happen in the dark.

I’m met with silence. Only nature responds.

A twig snaps somewhere in the distance behind me. My heart nearly leaps from my chest at the suddenness of the sound. I see nothing but trees in the faint moonlight. An infinite sea of bark and leaves.

“Holt,” I call out again, my voice hitching. I hope I’m not about to be devoured by a hungry coyote. “Honey is that you?”

“Tara! Come here! I found something.” It’s Holt’s voice. 

My intrusive thoughts slither in like a snake. What if it’s a skinwalker? I’ve seen too many videos on Tiktok of the creatures mimicking people’s voices.

“Tara?” He calls out again.

I sigh. I need to stay off Tiktok. Monsters aren’t real. My husband’s curiosity, however, is a beast of its own. 

“Where are you?” I respond, slipping on my hiking boots and tying the laces.

“Follow my voice. I’m scared that if I move I may not be able to find it again.” 

I tie the final knot and stand, grabbing a flashlight from my bag. Clicking it on offers a world of light surrounded by ever present shadows. 

I shake my head and shout, “Marco!”

“Pollo,” he replies. I head toward his voice.

I curse his name as I enter the treeline, stepping over fallen logs and running face first into a spider web. There’s something about the sticky strands that turns me feral. I swat and shake my head, praying there’s not a spider crawling around my hair.

By the time I reach Holt, I’m ready to go home. Though I love painting the wilderness, I am not a fan of experiencing it.

“Tara, look at this,” he says, ushering me toward him.

I point the beam of my flashlight to where he’s standing. I can see his breath billowing past his lips which are hidden by his red beard. The rest of his red hair is tucked away underneath his green beanie.

My gaze moves past Holt and I see what has him excited. A stone entrance lies buried in a mossy hill top. Vines with leaves in various fall shades cling to the blue door. Rust coats the bar holding the door shut. 

“I wonder if this is one of those tnt bunkers the people in town were talking about?”

I step closer. “Sure looks like it could’ve been built in World War II.”

Holt moves forward and begins struggling to lift the rusted bar.

“What are you doing?” I hiss.

“I want to see inside,” He says through strained teeth. His Irish complexion is turning as red as his hair.

“Since when are you an urban explorer?”

“I just want to see what all the fuss is about.” The bar gives and he loses his footing as the door screeches open. The sound reminds me of nails on a chalkboard. “Plus, when are we ever going to get the chance to see something like this again?”

“Have you never watched a horror movie? This is how we die.”

He wipes his hands on his pants as he stands back up. “Tara, we’re not going to die. That door hasn’t been opened in a long time. No serial killers lurking in the shadows. Unless…you don’t think Mothman’s gonna get you?”

“Monsters aren’t real,” I say, crossing my arms. “But I don’t know how stable anything is inside. What if something caves in?”

“Admit it. You’re scared.”

“Nope. I’m smart. At this rate I’ll be surviving our horror movie. Don’t worry, I’ll send your mother a signed popcorn bucket.”

“Think how inspirational it’ll be inside. You could do one of your spooky paintings with the inspiration you gather. Maybe even throw Mothman in there. Hell, maybe you can sell your painting for big money in town. Clearly these people like their cryptids.”

I sigh. He’s not going to give up. Something about the woods brings out his inner child. And like all children, he’s stubborn until he gets his way. 

He’s lucky I love him.

“Fine…five minutes.”

He smiles and leans in to give me a kiss on the lips. 

I let him lead as we venture past the metal door. It’s so dark I can nearly feel it. Our flashlights do very little to light the void. I realize that it’s because the room is insanely big. The walls curve upward, leading into a high ceiling. Bright graffiti coats the concrete. 

I nearly stumble backward as my flashlight locks on to a dark figure with crimson eyes. 

“Holt! We need to leave, now! I insist, grabbing his jacket and tugging. 

“Tara,” he says as he points his own flashlight at the wall. “It’s graffiti. It’s not the Mothman…” I can hear him holding back a snicker. Meanwhile my heart thunders loudly in my ears. 

“Can we go now?” I ask, itching to leave. It’s too quiet here. 

Holt takes out his phone and snaps a picture of the graffiti. “Oh look.” 

He ignores my question. 

“Theres a door over there.” He points to the left, and sure enough, an open doorway sits waiting. Inviting us to explore more of its depths. 

“I think we should go, Holt. I don’t like it in here.”

“Hey, we still have three minutes.” He takes my hand in his. “Let’s take a look together. Then we can leave.”

Reluctantly, I walk with him to the doorway. It leads to the hallway. Doors stretch every few feet. Some of the wood has rotted, laying in the floors.

Holt lets go of my hand. “Wow, this is cool. I wonder if this is where they stored the dynamite. Wanna take some home as a souvenir if we find some?”

“I’m not going any further. You can go look quick but I’m staying right where I can see the exit.”

He shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

He pops in and out of the rooms, his phone’s camera flashing in the dark. At least one of us is enjoying himself. 

A cold breeze tickles the back of my neck and I spin around, half expecting something to be standing behind me. It’s just the wind from the open doorway, I tell myself. 

“Okay Holt, time’s up. We should really go.” I turn around and find no sign of him. I wait a moment, expecting a camera flash to come from one of the rooms. 

“Holt? This isn’t funny. We should get back.”

Silence. 

“Dammit Holt. Let’s go.” 

A thunk comes from the end of the hallway, along with a camera flash.

My blood boils. He’s sleeping outside of the tent tonight.

I walk down to the end of the hallway with anger guiding me. I’d teach him to ignore me.

I round the corner and step through the doorway into a small room. 

“You’re in the doghou…” My words trail off as I take in the sight before me. The room is empty. Or at least I think until I see something dark drip to the floor. 

The scent of iron assails my nostrils. I follow my flashlight’s beam to the ceiling and gasp. Holt is suspended in midair by a black, winged creature. Its fur shines in the light. Striking red eyes stare straight at me. The antennae at the top of its head are black and wispy. 

More blood falls to the floor, sounding like water dripping from a faucet. A crunch follows as the creature takes a bite out of Holt’s neck. 

“Oh my God,” I say, stumbling backward. I land flat on my ass but quickly pop back up and run for the door. 

A loud screech echoes behind me. I don’t look back. I keep running. Once I reach the metal door I turn around and push it shut, locking the metal bar back in place.

I take a few deep breaths, my heart racing. 

BANG. Something hard hits the metal, making a dent in the surface.

I don’t hesitate. I run. I run until my lungs are screaming for air. I trip over roots and stones but don’t stop. 

Blindly I run through the trees until I see a roadway come into view. Hope blooms inside my chest. Roads mean cars. Cars mean safety.

Bright lights appear in the distance. I make my way to the edge of the road, waving my hands and shouting for help. 

A loud screech comes from above me. I look up in time to see the black, winged creature descend upon me. It lifts me up in the air with its claws just as the car reaches where I was. Pain sparks in my shoulders. I can feel the wet warmth of blood soaking through my hoodie.

Tears flood my eyes as the creature flies me back to its lair to reunite me with my husband once more.