thank you to creature publishing and dori lumpkin for a signed copy of antenora!

i lost a little piece of myself to this book. this book was a gift unto itself, seemingly written for me full of all that i enjoy. i have a little space in my heart carved out for stories dealing with appalachian horror, religious trauma, repressed homosexuality, and rage incarnate—antenora delivers them all. told through a seamless winding narration of the present and past, abby-girl and nora's lives unfold in a sweltering heat, a continuous pressure building up ready to snap. despite abby-girl telling us everything after the fact and resigned to her regrets, there's no relief from the increasing anxiety of what has happened already and yet to be said. that in a calamitous instant, everything might change for the better or worse. nora's presence, no matter what she does, is a rising tide; a wave threatening to wipe out everything in bethel... and there is no amount of prayer or deliverance that can stop her... and maybe she shouldn't be stopped.