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A provocative debut that is both a blood-soaked love letter to Los Angeles and a gleeful send-up to iconic horror villains, CJ Leede’s Maeve Fly will thrill fans of Stephen Graham Jones’ My Heart is a Chainsaw and Caroline Kepnes’ YOU series.
By day, Maeve Fly works at the happiest place in the world as every child’s favorite ice princess.
By the neon night glow of the Sunset Strip, Maeve haunts the dive bars with a drink in one hand and a book in the other, imitating her misanthropic literary heroes.
But when Gideon Green – her best friend’s brother – moves to town, he awakens something dangerous within her, and the world she knows suddenly shifts beneath her feet.
Untethered, Maeve ditches her discontented act and tries on a new persona. A bolder, bloodier one, inspired by the pages of American Psycho. Step aside Patrick Bateman, it’s Maeve’s turn with the knife.
Leede presents us with a delicious anti-heroine. Her biting commentary on modern day life will suck you in immediately. Keep an eye on this rising feminist voice.
Maeve Fly is a revelation. It hurt to turn these pages, but I couldn’t stop. Maeve is every beautiful nightmare you’ve ever dared to dream. An unforgettable read.
Thoughtful, wild, frightening, and fun. Leede’s anti-heroine makes for a heroically refreshing read.
Our collective Hollywood fantasy gets the chainsaw autopsy it deserves in this deliriously indecent feminist slasher.
Gruesome and glamourous, Maeve Fly could be the R-rated origin story of Morticia Addams.
A shocking, wild, and sinister addition to LA literature.
Incredible. Like if Gillian Flynn wrote American Psycho. CJ Leede’s Maeve Fly is a firecracker of a book that explodes in your hand before you realize you’ve lit it. Shocking, explosive, twisted and twisty, with pitch-black humor and razor-sharp social commentary, this book is propulsive and a must-read for summer!
Maeve Fly is one of those books that is many things at once: sensual, brutal, sly, joyfully unnerving, and a blood-soaked love letter to LA. But at its core it’s a horror novel, and it scared the hell out of me.
An apocalyptic Anaheim Psycho, a guidebook to the dead spaces of Los Angeles, a Hollywood black mass, an occult ritual that cracks the earth, Maeve Fly oozes enough anguish, alienation, and angst to drown the world.
This is gory and brutal and beautiful and painful and terrifying and a pure delight. Child of God has nothing on Maeve Fly. But I think they might be cousins. Just, let’s not let them Mickey and Mallory across the world, ok?
Full of glamour and gore, this genre-rejecting debut is unlike any I’ve ever read.
