"Playmate, come and play with me..." A beloved classic reimagined with a dark twist. After her parents' painful divorce, Evie Archer hopes that moving to Ravenglass, Massachusetts, is the fresh start her family needs. But Evie quickly realizes that her new home—known by locals as the Horror House—carries its own dark past after learning about Holly Hobbie, who mysteriously vanished from her bedroom one night. But traces of Holly linger in the Horror House and slowly begin to take over Evie's life. A strange shadow follows her everywhere she goes, and Evie starts to lose sight of what's real and what isn't the more she learns about The Lost Girl. Can Evie find out what happened the night of Holly's disappearance? Or is history doomed to repeat itself in the Horror House? “Its myriad twists will keep readers riveted all the way to the satisfying climax...Bursting with dark history, ghoulish ghosts, and high-stakes secrets."— Publisher's Weekly "Energetic and colorfully descriptive."— Kirkus Reviews “Holly Horror is an absolute blast! Full of thrills, chills, and lacy frills, readers will have fearful fun with every page. I didn’t want it to end!”—Sara Farizan, award-winning author of Dead Flip “This book should come with a warning label: Do Not Read At Home Alone! With chilling twists and turns, a supremely creepy haunting, and moments of psychological terror that would make Shirley Jackson proud, HOLLY HORROR is that rarest of treats: a genuinely scary ghost story. A must-read for all YA horror fans. I loved it!”—Rob Costello, contributing editor of QUEER BEASTIES: 15 Weird & Wondrous Monster Tales and author of THE DANCING BEARS: Queer Fables for the End Times “Michelle Corpora has taken the country cute gingham of Holly Hobbie, and reimagined a fabulous patchwork of nightmares. You’ll never look at that bonneted silhouette the same way again!”—Ann Dávila Cardinal, author of BREAKUP FROM HELL and contributing author of OUR SHADOWS HAVE CLAWS: 15 Latin American Monster Stories Michelle Jabès Corpora is a writer, editor, community organizer, and martial artist. In addition to working in the publishing industry for more than a dozen years as an editor and concept developer, she has ghostwritten five novels in a long-running middle-grade mystery series. American Horse Tales: The Dust Bowl was Michelle's first novel under her own name. Her second novel, The Fog of War: Martha Gellhorn at the D-Day Landings (Pushkin Press), published in 2021. 1 The little silver car darted down the country roads like a minnow, cresting the hills and dipping low into the valleys, carrying three new souls into western Massachusetts. Evie Archer sat in the passenger seat, watching the first few rust- and honey-​colored leaves begin to fall. Beyond, the sun was low on the horizon, setting the mountaintops ablaze with golden light. Evie knew she should have appreciated the sight of a sky unbroken by apartment buildings and skyscrapers, but all it did was make her feel small. She fingered the cream-​colored lace of her favorite shirt—​an old maroon cotton tee that she’d found thrifting and upcycled into something more fashionable. She’d cut off the sleeves and snipped the bottom into a wavy asymmetrical line, then sewed about a foot of vintage lace to the bottom to create a dramatic hem. A bit more lace around the neckline completed the look. She’d laid it out on her bed with a pair of comfortable jeans last night as her traveling outfit. “So listen,” her mother, Lynne, was saying as she took another tight turn. “You guys know that Hobbie House needs a lot of work, and I can’t afford to have the whole place professionally cleaned right now, so we should start by fixing up the rooms we’ll need right away.” “Sure, Mom,” Evie said, wondering what her friends back home in New York were doing right now. Were they thinking about her? She checked her phone for messages, but there were none. She reasoned that it was still a school day; they were probably just busy. She put the phone facedown on her lap and tried not to think about it. In the back seat, huddled among the duffel bags and suitcases, her younger brother, Stan, said nothing. Evie glanced back to see him hidden deep inside his black hoodie, playing some stupid game on his phone. “Stan, honey, are you listening?” Mom said. Stan grunted, just loud enough to be audible by human ears. “Anyway,” her mother continued as they approached another hairpin curve, “we’ll tackle the bedrooms first, then the kitchen—​oh, probably a bathroom we can all share, and—” There was something in the road. Some lumbering, dark thing. Mom didn’t see it because she was too busy talking about the house, but Evie saw it. “Mom! Watch out!” Evie shouted. “What?” her mother gasped, wrenching the steering wheel and slamming on the brakes. The little silver car swerved wildly, skidding to the side of the road. Evie shrieked as a rock was thrown up and hit the windshie