Books like The Grip of It — picked by fans

I adore reading atmospheric adventures of mystery, supernatural, and ghostly powers; this book has these values in abundance. Noemi’s alluring character is smart, savvy, and admirably vulnerable. Loved her. At High House in the Mexican countryside, Noemi discovers ghostly entities repeatedly forming blisters across the walls. How mysterious and threatening; I was fascinated.

The best part of the novel for me was the emotional intelligence of the characters because their behavior is both suspiciously rational and heart-stopping clever. Gripping as all heck. This family was obsessed with a relentless desire to rule and control their destiny at all costs via Otherworld powers. Absolutely compelling. I was breathless along with Noemi at every step as she was drawn into the dangers and treacherous family secrets that threatened to kill her.

I believe this book is one of the classic staples of surreal fiction. Its disjointed, spiraling narrative and sprawling non-linear plot lines challenge the definition of what a ‘book’ is. It uses everything from footnotes to text alignment to color schemes to make the act of reading itself increasingly difficult, which matches the house’s influence on the narrators’ memories and interests.

Reading it for me was like learning Latin or watching Casablanca–it gave context to decades of experimental media inspired by it, from TV shows to DOOM game mods. Love it or hate it, it’s a solid tool for any inhuman’s toolkit. 

This is the book that taught me how powerful loneliness can be.

Every time I return to it, I feel one character’s ache settle into me, that desperate want to belong somewhere, even if it’s a house that doesn’t love you back. I recommend it because it still feels as if I’m attempting to figure out what is happening alongside the characters, the way only great writing can.

Jackson makes you realize that the scariest hauntings aren’t in the walls, they’re the ones we carry within us.

She’s either possessed by a particularly vicious spirit or just plain insane. Either way, I’ve never been able to forget the terrible things she does, although I read this so long ago, I can’t remember her name. It’s not gory; it’s eerie, and most of the horror is suggested rather than shown, meaning our own imaginations contribute to the impact. Ghost story or psychological horror, you decide.

As the title suggests, this book lingers like a disquieting dream. A mother to a toddler myself, I think of what the protagonist Amanda calls the “rescue distance” often – the ground between herself and her child, should something perilous occur.

This book distills maternal protectiveness and anxiety into something as potent as poison or as powerful as a curse. It makes me want to look over my shoulder, lock the doors, draw the blinds. It carries an air of contagion. I can think of few other reads that evoke such a visceral reaction with such subtle strokes.

This was one of the best books about werewolves—that isn’t really about werewolves—I have ever read. The story is told from the perspective of an unnamed boy who lives with his aunt and uncle—who happen to be werewolves—and the struggles he and his family face while living on the edge of society to avoid discovery.

What fascinated me the most was that Jones created entirely new werewolf lore with its own culture, rituals, and traditions, and it all felt real. I loved the non-linear timeline following the boy from 8 to 16, yearning to change like his aunt and uncle. Jones encapsulated the real difficulties of living on the fringes of society for whatever reason. It’s a dark book, raw and visceral, but also really funny. 

Ghost Eaters is a deep dive into the horrors of addiction. While the focus is largely on substance abuse, the book also explores love addiction and grief in fresh ways. Erin, the protagonist, loses her graduate school friend and love to an overdose. As she tries to explore the details of Silas’ final days, she finds herself mixed up in a new drug—one that allows the user to communicate with the dead. Discovering what happened to Silas, leads Erin to learn far more about herself and her own addictive personality than it does about Silas or his final days.  

The Bus on Thursday introduces the reader to Eleanor Mellett who, after recovering from breast cancer, travels to a remote town in Australia to teach primary school. The horrors that ensue are both hilarious and terrifying. From a new lover who fights kangaroos in the middle of the night to body parts in the local lake, it is a wild ride. One that reveals the horrors of an isolated small town just as much as it does the potential horrors of the kind of isolation that a cancer diagnosis or experience can cause. Bartlett’s voice is one of the strongest I’ve read in quite some time—she writes with energy and venom, creating a fairly unlikable main character that the reader can’t help but entangle themselves with.

Gabino Iglesias has become a phenomenon in horror through a lot of hustle and plain hard work. His 2022 novel cemented his reputation as the king of border horror.

This novel follows the fate of Mario, a man broken by debt due to his family’s crushing medical bills. With a failing marriage, he reluctantly takes a job as a hitman, agreeing to do one last job hijacking a cartel’s cash shipment before it can reach Mexico.

Mario reluctantly works with his meth-addicted friend and a cartel insider. To make this dangerous endeavor worse, enter supernatural horrors that shocked me—and I am not easily shocked.

Is there blood? Of course! Gore? Plenty! Monsters and demons? Yes! You are guaranteed to lose sleep after reading this novel.

I found this a captivating read. It was morbid, dark, and grim, but it was also exciting. I was quickly drawn into the world of Immanuelle Moore, whose mother was called a witch and died giving birth to her. I loved the author’s attention to detail.

The villages of Bethel and the Darkwood are so vivid that I could believe the protagonists’ lives in the puritanical, secluded world full of zealots, idolatry, sexism, and racism. The book is also beautifully atmospheric—the village, the trees, and the large cathedrals are so well described.

One of the book's main themes was self-discovery, which is why I think it’s more aimed toward YA, but I recommend it to anyone interested in witches, small towns, religion, and feminist themes.