Slasher Summer

by E.L. Chen, published by Grand Central Publishing

Listen here, friend. Pull up a chair and let me tell you about a place called Cedar Lake. It’s a quiet little town, the kind wrapped in heavy Southern humidity and buried deep enough in the pines that the world mostly passes it by. But folks around there don't talk about the local harvest or the football team. No, sir. They talk about Slasher—that campy, blood-soaked 1980s horror movie filmed right in their own backyard.

Now, if you want to understand this story, you’ve got to understand high school. It’s a ghost that follows a man, a heavy sack of labels you never quite get to unpack. Years ago, a crew of local kids lived inside those labels. You had Patrick the prep, Jason the jock, Tiffany shaking her pom-poms, Freddy lost in a cloud of smoke, Jennifer wrapped in goth black, and nerdy Mikey. Right there at the center of them was Carrie, the sweet, virginal girl everyone knew was born to be the Final Girl. They used to dress up and play-act the movie at midnight showings, laughing off the dark.

Well, time moves on, even if the memories don't.

Years later, those same friends have come back together. They’ve grown up some, or at least they’ve tried to. They’ve gathered at that same remote, weather-beaten cabin where the movie was shot, looking to drink a little beer, share some laughs, and see who they’ve become. Carrie’s got a boyfriend now, Patrick’s living his truth, Mikey’s filled out his frame, and Freddy, well, bless him, he’s still high as a Georgia pine.

But when the sun drops below the tree line and the shadows stretch out long and cold, the real world fades away.

Out there in the dark, a masked figure is watching. Suddenly, the truck tires are flat. The phone lines are cut. The easy laughter curdles into a high, sharp terror as a real-life killer starts hunting them down, one by one, through the brush. Somebody out there wants to make this reunion authentic. They want blood on the floorboards.

It’s a hell of a tale about the monsters outside the door, and the heavier, darker truth that you can never truly outrun the person you used to be.

You’re going to want to hold this one in your hands, too. It’s a beautiful, stunning paperback, complete with vibrantly designed stenciled edges that look slicker than a brand-new pocketknife. It’s a love letter to the old days, dripping with nostalgia and dread.

E.L. Chen website

Crown Publishing website