Genre Fiction
![Rachel Harrison - [object Object] author](https://res.cloudinary.com/readsomnia/image/upload/authors/a_a_rachel_harrison.jpg)
Cackle
A darkly funny, frightening novel about a young woman learning how to take what she wants from a witch who may be too good to be true, from the author of The Return.
All her life, Annie has played it nice and safe. After being unceremoniously dumped by her longtime boyfriend, Annie seeks a fresh start. She accepts a teaching position that moves her from Manhattan to a small village upstate. She's stunned by how perfect and picturesque the town is. The people are all friendly and warm. Her new apartment is dreamy too, minus the oddly persistent spider infestation.
Then Annie meets Sophie. Beautiful, charming, magnetic Sophie, who takes a special interest in Annie, who wants to be her friend. More importantly, she wants Annie to stop apologizing and start living for herself. That's how Sophie lives. Annie can't help but gravitate toward the self-possessed Sophie, wanting to spend more and more time with her, despite the fact that the rest of the townsfolk seem…a little afraid of her. And like, okay. There are some things. Sophie's appearance is uncanny and ageless, her mansion in the middle of the woods feels a little unearthly, and she does seem to wield a certain power…but she couldn't be…could she?
All her life, Annie has played it nice and safe. After being unceremoniously dumped by her longtime boyfriend, Annie seeks a fresh start. She accepts a teaching position that moves her from Manhattan to a small village upstate. She's stunned by how perfect and picturesque the town is. The people are all friendly and warm. Her new apartment is dreamy too, minus the oddly persistent spider infestation.
Then Annie meets Sophie. Beautiful, charming, magnetic Sophie, who takes a special interest in Annie, who wants to be her friend. More importantly, she wants Annie to stop apologizing and start living for herself. That's how Sophie lives. Annie can't help but gravitate toward the self-possessed Sophie, wanting to spend more and more time with her, despite the fact that the rest of the townsfolk seem…a little afraid of her. And like, okay. There are some things. Sophie's appearance is uncanny and ageless, her mansion in the middle of the woods feels a little unearthly, and she does seem to wield a certain power…but she couldn't be…could she?
Editorial Reviews
"This witty page-turner put its spell on me! Cackle is a charming and very contemporary story about self-realization-a gal-pal Addams Family, in the best way. Clever and massively enjoyable." -Zoje Stage, USA Today and internationally bestselling author of Baby Teeth and Getaway
"Reading Cackle was like stumbling upon a candy cottage in a dark wood: utterly surprising, deceptively delightful, and a little bit scary, too. I gobbled it up in a weekend, cackling all the while."-emily m. danforth, author of Plain Bad Heroines and The Miseducation of Cameron Post
"Cackle delivers a lesson that every woman needs to hear: embrace your inner witch! Sweet, sinister, and 100 percent delightful." -Alma Katsu, author of The Hunger and The Deep
"Wry, dark, and deliciously witchy. I loved every page of this gripping feminist tale."-Alexis Henderson, author of The Year of the Witching
"As funny as it is frightening, Cackle by Rachel Harrison is the perfect book to cuddle up with on a crisp fall evening." -PopSugar
"Cackle is an all-too-relatable story about finding your inner strength even when you're at rock bottom, tackling the realities of post-break-up life with levity and charm. This book is an absolute delight, and everyone needs a friend like Sophie." - Genevieve Gornichec, Author of The Witch's Heart
"Cackle is that rare book that has it all: a searingly honest portrayal of all-consuming heartbreak, an exploration of the pitfalls of making new friends past thirty, a few revenge fantasies come to life, and a whole lotta witchcraft. Harrison's clever prose will have you laughing and crying at once, and I promise you will never look at spiders the same way again."-Molly Pohlig, ...
"Reading Cackle was like stumbling upon a candy cottage in a dark wood: utterly surprising, deceptively delightful, and a little bit scary, too. I gobbled it up in a weekend, cackling all the while."-emily m. danforth, author of Plain Bad Heroines and The Miseducation of Cameron Post
"Cackle delivers a lesson that every woman needs to hear: embrace your inner witch! Sweet, sinister, and 100 percent delightful." -Alma Katsu, author of The Hunger and The Deep
"Wry, dark, and deliciously witchy. I loved every page of this gripping feminist tale."-Alexis Henderson, author of The Year of the Witching
"As funny as it is frightening, Cackle by Rachel Harrison is the perfect book to cuddle up with on a crisp fall evening." -PopSugar
"Cackle is an all-too-relatable story about finding your inner strength even when you're at rock bottom, tackling the realities of post-break-up life with levity and charm. This book is an absolute delight, and everyone needs a friend like Sophie." - Genevieve Gornichec, Author of The Witch's Heart
"Cackle is that rare book that has it all: a searingly honest portrayal of all-consuming heartbreak, an exploration of the pitfalls of making new friends past thirty, a few revenge fantasies come to life, and a whole lotta witchcraft. Harrison's clever prose will have you laughing and crying at once, and I promise you will never look at spiders the same way again."-Molly Pohlig, ...
Readers Top Reviews
Christine A.Rebec
“𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘨 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦.” –Rachel Harrison, Cackle 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗣𝗹𝗼𝘁 Annie’s boyfriend has just broken up with her, so, heartbroken, she leaves Manhattan for a new teaching position in a small, picturesque town upstate New York called Rowan. Annie is impressed with how friendly everyone in Rowan is and agrees it lives up to its slogan of “America’s Best Kept Secret.” She meets a local resident, Sophie, who takes her under her wing and encourages Annie to forget about getting back with her ex and focus on building her own life. Sophie is beautiful, kind, and talented, but Annie notices that the town’s people seem nervous around her and treat her with cautious reverence, giving her the best of their wares with no charge. Despite this, Annie’s friendship with Sophie continues to grow, and they spend more and more time hanging out together at Annie’s charming apartment but mostly at Sophie’s huge but eerie castle home. 𝗜 𝗧𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 This book is categorized as a horror/paranormal book, but I would describe this as a cozy horror book with a feminist theme. There are plenty of scary scenes and spooky humor to keep you on your toes but not terrified. There are also lots of spiders with exceptional skills in this book, so be warned if you have a fear of them. As a Scaredy-Cat, I was never scared or freaked out by their behavior and will never look at them in the same way again (although size matters in this regard). Ralph, the spider, became one of my favorite characters. I loved that I wasn’t sure how the story would end and was happy with how things worked out. Drop this in your Trick or Treat bag if you’re looking for an unusual Spooky Season read!
K. A. Y.Christine
CACKLE, by Rachel Harrison falls into the horror category, but I honestly didn't find anything I'd consider horror in it. It's well written, with some great dark sarcasm all throughout. It's told through the point of view of Annie--a woman in her 30's who just moved to a very small town after being dumped by her long-time boyfriend. She's a character you can't help but want to change, and encourage some emotional growth and confidence in. She's always been the one to cater to other people, never realizing that she's been doing so all along. Enter Sophie, her new best friend in this small town. Oh, Sophie may just be an actual witch, with very strong feminist viewpoints. Despite not being the horror I expected, this was a very enjoyable, fast read! Seeing Annie begin to emerge--albeit in stages, with setbacks--was a lot of fun. Her sarcasm and inner comments about others really made this story for me, and on more than one occasion I found myself wishing she would just say it out loud to them. I loved Sophie, but wished we could have learned more about her history. However, this was a story about Annie. It went in a direction that did surprise me, and the ending left me feeling very satisfied overall. While I'm not sure how I would categorize this one (maybe, light-horror, cozy halloween read?), I did enjoy it immensely. Recommended.
MelissaK. A. Y.Ch
This book is even better than I expected. I absolutely loved it. The characters are amazing and the ending was honestly not what I was expecting. I haven’t fallen so in love with a book in a while but this one made me fall head over heels.
Topher HarrisMeli
I had so much fun reading this. While it wasn’t as dark or frightening as I would normally read, I loved the story and characters. Looking forward to reading more from Rachel Harrison.
ilianaTopher Harr
Such a great fall book to read! Keeps you on your toes and wanting to read more. Gives off cozy, small town vibes, if you are into that.
Short Excerpt Teaser
Fortune
The sky is a strange color. Not quite red but too violent to be orange. I search for the sun, imagine it tired and bitter, slouching into another long shift. I find it hovering over New Jersey. Poor sun.
"Annie," Nadia whines behind me, "you're bumming me out."
"Sorry," I say. I contort my mouth into what I think is a smile, but Nadia winces at the sight of it, so I'm guessing the attempt is unsuccessful.
"Girl," she says, "pull it together! It's your birthday."
I groan.
"All right, all right," she says, roping her arm around me. "Let's get you wasted."
We dodge the bags of trash reclining on every curb, avoid the rogue dog turds swarming with flies, unashamed in the middle of the sidewalk. When I first moved to New York City twelve years ago, starry-eyed and energetic, a college freshman, it didn't seem so dirty. I can't tell if it was because I was young then, charmed by the skyline, always looking up, or if it used to be cleaner.
"Here," Nadia says, putting her hands on my shoulders and ushering me into a random bar. It's almost chic. Draped-bead chandeliers hang from a high ceiling. The place is crowded with couches and mismatched armchairs, stuffing sneaking out through straining seams. Nadia directs me to two stools in the corner where the counter disappears into the wall.
"Perfect," she purrs. She's wearing a low-cut leopard-print jumpsuit, which at first I thought was a smidge much, but now that we've received immediate attention from the bartender, I'm beginning to appreciate her strategic fashion choice.
She orders us vodka lemonades and tequila shots.
I've been out with Nadia only once before, at a karaoke fundraiser for our school that was near torture. She performed an earnest cover of Natalie Imbruglia's "Torn." I sat squirming in the corner, anticipating a flood of secondhand embarrassment, but the crowd was surprisingly into it.
I watch her now, as she sticks her pink acrylics into the bowl of assorted nuts on the bar. She tilts her head to the side, searching for a specific nut, exposing her long, delicate neck. Her hair is dark and thick and falls down past her shoulders, curving like a chain of crescent moons. She's got false lashes that are in a constant flutter.
She teaches biology. She's good at it, too. At school, she doesn't wear a lick of makeup. All the students whisper about how she's the hottest teacher.
It doesn't matter how old you get. A superlative will always be insulting when it's awarded to anyone but you.
The bartender drops the shots in front of us. They're accompanied by a tiny plate with two lime wedges and a crusty saltshaker.
Nadia lifts up one of the shots. "To you. And your new job. Oh, and fuck your ex."
She takes her shot.
I take mine, too. The mention of Sam is like an ice pick to the sternum. I begin to count the bottles of liquor lined up behind the bar. Are there enough? In this bar? In this city? In the tristate area? How much will it take?
"It's all happening," Nadia says, snapping her fingers as our cocktails arrive. "New job. New city."
"It's not a city," I say. "It's a small town no one's ever heard of."
"Yeah," she says, and pauses to aggressively suck the remaining juice from her lime wedge. "But that's how all romance movies start. You're going to move to this, like, small-ass town and meet some brooding lumberjack, and he's going to be named Lucien and have a six-pack even though he's a low-key alcoholic. He'll live in a trailer and have a tragic past. It'll be great."
"Sounds great," I say, my voice flat.
She nudges me. "Oh, come on, Annie. Loosen up! Have some fun. It's your birthday!"
I wish she would stop reminding me of that.
I hadn't planned on spending my thirtieth birth...
The sky is a strange color. Not quite red but too violent to be orange. I search for the sun, imagine it tired and bitter, slouching into another long shift. I find it hovering over New Jersey. Poor sun.
"Annie," Nadia whines behind me, "you're bumming me out."
"Sorry," I say. I contort my mouth into what I think is a smile, but Nadia winces at the sight of it, so I'm guessing the attempt is unsuccessful.
"Girl," she says, "pull it together! It's your birthday."
I groan.
"All right, all right," she says, roping her arm around me. "Let's get you wasted."
We dodge the bags of trash reclining on every curb, avoid the rogue dog turds swarming with flies, unashamed in the middle of the sidewalk. When I first moved to New York City twelve years ago, starry-eyed and energetic, a college freshman, it didn't seem so dirty. I can't tell if it was because I was young then, charmed by the skyline, always looking up, or if it used to be cleaner.
"Here," Nadia says, putting her hands on my shoulders and ushering me into a random bar. It's almost chic. Draped-bead chandeliers hang from a high ceiling. The place is crowded with couches and mismatched armchairs, stuffing sneaking out through straining seams. Nadia directs me to two stools in the corner where the counter disappears into the wall.
"Perfect," she purrs. She's wearing a low-cut leopard-print jumpsuit, which at first I thought was a smidge much, but now that we've received immediate attention from the bartender, I'm beginning to appreciate her strategic fashion choice.
She orders us vodka lemonades and tequila shots.
I've been out with Nadia only once before, at a karaoke fundraiser for our school that was near torture. She performed an earnest cover of Natalie Imbruglia's "Torn." I sat squirming in the corner, anticipating a flood of secondhand embarrassment, but the crowd was surprisingly into it.
I watch her now, as she sticks her pink acrylics into the bowl of assorted nuts on the bar. She tilts her head to the side, searching for a specific nut, exposing her long, delicate neck. Her hair is dark and thick and falls down past her shoulders, curving like a chain of crescent moons. She's got false lashes that are in a constant flutter.
She teaches biology. She's good at it, too. At school, she doesn't wear a lick of makeup. All the students whisper about how she's the hottest teacher.
It doesn't matter how old you get. A superlative will always be insulting when it's awarded to anyone but you.
The bartender drops the shots in front of us. They're accompanied by a tiny plate with two lime wedges and a crusty saltshaker.
Nadia lifts up one of the shots. "To you. And your new job. Oh, and fuck your ex."
She takes her shot.
I take mine, too. The mention of Sam is like an ice pick to the sternum. I begin to count the bottles of liquor lined up behind the bar. Are there enough? In this bar? In this city? In the tristate area? How much will it take?
"It's all happening," Nadia says, snapping her fingers as our cocktails arrive. "New job. New city."
"It's not a city," I say. "It's a small town no one's ever heard of."
"Yeah," she says, and pauses to aggressively suck the remaining juice from her lime wedge. "But that's how all romance movies start. You're going to move to this, like, small-ass town and meet some brooding lumberjack, and he's going to be named Lucien and have a six-pack even though he's a low-key alcoholic. He'll live in a trailer and have a tragic past. It'll be great."
"Sounds great," I say, my voice flat.
She nudges me. "Oh, come on, Annie. Loosen up! Have some fun. It's your birthday!"
I wish she would stop reminding me of that.
I hadn't planned on spending my thirtieth birth...
