This book was creative and gross, and really enjoyable! I'm a fan of unapologetically unlikeable narrators, so spending time in Maeve's head was fascinating. I will say that this book probably hits more for people that have an interest in LA.

Thank you to NetGalley for an ARC of Maeve Fly.

First, great cover!

Second, I never read American Psycho so I can't compare Maeve Fly to that novel, which I'm glad.

I went into Maeve Fly fresh, not knowing what to expect.

I'm not sure what to make of Maeve. She's obviously not a typical psychopath: she loves her grandmom, Lester the Cat, her job, her BFF, Kate, and LA.

Maeve is unevenly written; hiding her dark impulses and tendencies, inwardly violent and angry, yet also unambitious, delusional that her grandmom is dying, and just pathetic.

She has a lot of opinions, constantly belittling people and society in her inner monologues, which I get because I do the same thing sometimes but she did it all the time and it got tedious, ingratiating after a few chapters.

Did I like her? No. Did I dislike her? No, not really. I guess I just don't care either way.

I don't mind unlikable characters, but even unlikable characters should possess an unique, interesting quality. Maeve doesn't have any.

Third, what's the point of the story?

That Maeve is a psychopath prowling the streets of LA, mentored by her beloved grandmom?

I found it hard to believe Maeve was as twisted as she is; during the day she's dressed as a Disney princess, and at night she's monologuing in her head and listening to Halloween oriented music and thinking dark, evil thoughts.

Maeve finds a boyfriend through Kate's brother, Gideon. Naturally, he's hot and an athlete, so he's used to violence, in a way.

This was a bit more romance-y than I expected, which I'm not a fan of, especially in these types of books.

There are plenty of gory, bloody scenes so if you are the type to turn away from certain scenes in horror movies, you may want to skip this book or flip ahead.

I'm not sure what's the point of these violent interludes, to demonstrate how apathetic Maeve is, that she inflicts pain and suffering because she can and she likes it, or am I just overthinking it?

Maybe the author just enjoyed writing those scenes.

The ending is ironic, yet predictable, when she doesn't listen to him tell her they're Bonnie and Clyde and now she's all alone.

Is the point that we're all alone in the universe?

Or am I just overthinking again?

“There are many winding paths to an inevitable end, and there is so much beauty and pain in the watching.”

Maeve Fly by CJ Leed is quite easily one of the best overall Horror experiences I have had the grim grinning delight to experience this year. As a Multimedia Horror artist, I am always on the hunt for works that provide wild, vibrant, and visceral worlds while giving me thrills and chills that I will be unpacking for days, weeks, or months to come and BOY HOWDY does Maeve Fly bring that and then some.

Follow the story of Maeve Fly, Winter Theme Park Princess by day and avid physical media/book girlie by night. With a sick grandmother and a bestie who is on her way to stardom, Maeve can feel her days with the ones she loves rapidly slipping away but it’s okay, she has a plan. That is until her best friend’s brother comes to town and turns Maeve’s life on its head.

CJ Leed exquisitely blends a love of horror, Hollywood, and Halloween all while taking the reader on a wild fast paced journey of descent into madness that is both unsettling and delectable in the same breath.

If you’re an unhinged book girlie, this is a MUST ADD to your book stack!

If you’re a horror movie hound, THIS BOOK IS FOR YOU!! If you’re a fan of American Psycho, Sleep Away Camp, Psycho and sprinkle in a little Black Dahlia you don’t want to miss out!

Oh and did I mention the audiobook is Narrated by THE Sosie Bacon?!

I can’t recommend this book enough, my most anticipated book of the summer.

*3.5-stars**

Maeve Fly is an Extreme Horror novel by debut author C.J. Leede. In addition to the fascinating cover, I was drawn to this book because the synopsis mentions the main character was inspired by the pages of American Psycho.

Even though I was bored to tears by American Psycho, I still wanted to see what this was all about. It had my attention. Luckily for me, I enjoyed this much more than AP. I definitely felt the same tone throughout, but I really enjoyed the Feminist twist that Leede brought here.

This story follows Maeve, who is the Patrick Bateman of our story. Instead of NYC, we're in L.A. for this one, where Maeve lives with her ailing grandmother, a former movie starlet. Their secluded mansion is Maeve's safe haven. By day, Maeve works at a theme park, it's unnamed, but think Disneyland, where she plays a super popular ice princess. Let's call her, Elsa.

Maeve works alongside her best friend, Kate, the only person, besides her grandmother, she feels a real connection with. That is until Kate's brother, Gideon, arrives in town. Gideon makes Maeve feel things she doesn't necessarily want to be feeling. She tries to avoid him, but the attraction can't be helped. Once they start chumming around, all bets are off. It's no holds bar, gripping, pulse-pounding, exhausting, exploring their darkest and deepest desires.

We're talking dark. Real, genuine debauchery. Maeve has a fetish with eggs. You'll never be able to unsee that. I will never look at an egg the same again.

The narrative style is biting and shocking, as you would expect Extreme Horror to be. It's stream of consciousness from Maeve's perspective and being in her brain is not a comfortable place to be.

I did enjoy some of the ideas that Leede explored in this. For example, Maeve talks about how we have a need to understand why people do horrific acts, but when men perform such acts, it's sort of like, 'men are aggressive, men can snap, men can be harmful'. It's not super shocking, but when the same acts are performed by a woman, it's almost unbelievable to us.

Maeve's thing is, 'what if this is just me?' There's no reason behind it, no justifications or excuses. It's her true being, point blank.

I also liked the dichotomy displayed in Maeve's life. She loves her job, she's interacting with children all day, the epitome of a pretty, pretty princess, but as soon as the park closes and she's free in the world, she's a monster, a predator, an evil being. That back-and-forth was really well done and I appreciated how Leede set that up. I also loved the ending of this. The final two scenes were my favorite of the whole novel.

Overall, I feel like this is a good book. I think it is smart and visceral. For me, though, I felt a little disconnected with it at times. It was sort of a mixed bag. I enjoyed a lot of the themes and the ideas behind the creation of the story, but didn't vibe as much with Maeve's narrative voice.

Also, I feel like I am just not enjoying Extreme Horror as much as I used to. That is my own reading journey though, and yours may be completely different, so please keep that in mind when reading this review.

Fair warning: don't be fooled by the subtle-sounding synopsis. This is intense, torture, body horror, fetish acts, sexually explicit content for days, it's all here. If you're looking for a good shock, you'll definitely find it somewhere in this story. I dare you not to be shocked by at least a few scenes. You can't do it. You can't.

Thank you to the publisher, Tor Nightfire and Macmillan Audio, for providing me with a copy to read and review. I would definitely be interested in picking up more from this author in the future, especially if she continues with the feminist themes that were so well done here.

Deep thanks as always to NetGalley and to Macmillian/Nightfire for the ARC on 'Maeve Fly' in exchange for an honest review.
You'll have to pardon me while I hose down the gallons of blood, severed limbs, assorted organs and at least one random eyeball that came flooding out this book.......
A bit much? Not at all, cause I think it's essential that only readers who can stomach (and really love) hardcore horror go anywhere near 'Maeve Fly' Everyone else? Stick with 'The Addams Family'.......
Imagine, if you will 'American Psycho's Patrick Bateman reconceived as a Disneyland park Princess Elsa, that beloved "Let It Go' belter from "Frozen". Just the perverse audacity of that idea made me laugh and shake my head in admiration.
To the delight of park visitors, the live action Elsa's well played by none other than our title gal Maeve Fly, while sister Anna's played by Maeve's BFF, Kate.
Maeve loves her work with a passion, even tolerating Liz, her officious, micro-managing supervisor. Kate, however an aspiring actress, struggles to snag a film or TV role. And this is a perfect moment to mention how author CJ Leede evokes and beautifully portrays Los Angeles in all its sun-drenched madness - especially the underbelly of showbiz where's everybody's grasping for their dream while only a precious few achieve it. Perceptive, sharp and darkly funny, at times the book reads like a modern day "Day Of The Locust"... only with way more blood.
Speaking of dark.....that's Maeve through and through. At the house she shares with Tallulah, her once-upon-a-time movie star and infirm grandmother, she celebrates Halloween like it's Christmas at Hallmark. All she really needs to tip her over into complete insanity is something (or someone) to light her fuse.
Sure enough, Maeve finds the fuse lighter in the person of Kate's hunka-hunka Hockey star brother Gideon, newly arrived to play for the L.A. Kings. Gideon, with rippling abs and libido to match, sees directly into the bottomless abyss of Maeve's empty, violent, psychotic heart. He seems at least a possible kindred spirit, and for Maeve, who's already rapidly giving in to utter madness, that's all she needs to...uh... let it go.....and go medieval on any number of...uh....poor unfortunate souls. (but that's another movie, right?)
As I previously forewarned, the carnage here is way, way, way over the top, but author Leede turns the whole thing into such a funhouse ride, you're never sure whether to giggle or gag. And I could only smile and nod at the finale's big twist, dripping with irony....(among other things). For those who can take it, it's a 5 star ride into a human void. Dive in if you dare.

Me having never been to LA: “Wow, this book is so LA.” 😂

Maeve Fly is a really fucking weird and special read. It’s a love story to Los Angeles and the hulking edifice of Hollywood and celebrity.

For Maeve every day is Halloween, whether it’s the music blasting through her grandmothers perfectly pink Cadillac, or her job as THAT ice princess at THAT theme park. When she’s not working, and sometimes while she is, she’s drinking and drugging and fucking to keep the darker inklings of her lizard brain at bay.

For something sinister lurks deep inside Maeve. An inherited wickedness. One that’s getting harder and harder to control. How far will Maeve go to fulfill her most depressed desires, and what will happen to anyone who dares stand in her way?

This book is perverted and funny and sometimes shockingly disgusting. It really escalates in the last 30%, where it is impossible to put down. And maybe this is a flaw of my own, but despite all the murdery stuff, and the extreme selfishness, I found Maeve to be an awful but ultimately likable character.

I think this book will be too much for a lot of people, but if you want a truly unique story with some real surprised, check out Maeve Fly.

Thank you to @tornightfire and @netgalley for an ARC of this title. Maeve Fly comes out June 6th.

Maeve Fly is a princess. That is, she is an actress who portrays a popular ice princess at a large, unnamed and—I’m sure—entirely fictional theme park south of Los Angeles. She is also cynical, vulgar, unsympathetic, and struggling to control her violent urges. That’s pretty much all we know at the start of CJ Leede’s debut novel, Maeve Fly.

Even before its release on June 6, Maeve Fly has been building its reputation as a brutal, twisted addition to slasherdom, and we can go ahead and rip that band-aid off right off the bat—it’s a deserving reputation. Leede takes her time in building up to the mayhem, but it’s time well-spent, showing readers what makes Maeve’s brain tick in great detail.

Maeve is refreshingly complex, as far as antiheroes go. She is positively misanthropic, but she loves her job to death, despite it involving day upon day of countless interactions with children and families—a mandatory smile glued to her face. She’s good at it, too. In fact, even her rival and “unofficial” supervisor Liz, has to concede that Maeve, along with her best friend Kate (as the ice princess’s royal sister), garners more positive feedback from visitors than any other princess in the park.

Likewise, the love she feels for the city of Los Angeles runs as, if not more, deeply. The glowing descriptions Maeve uses as she moves around town make clear that she believes she understands L.A. more completely than anyone else—as if she alone holds the key to the soul of Hollywood. She is whip-smart. She reads Dostoevsky in its original Russian and philosophers Georges Bataille and the Marquis de Sade (both notorious for their pornographic fiction and hedonistic ideas), in their original French. She rattles off facts about the city and her favorite horror-punk bands and Halloween songs, and is exceptionally quick-witted. Prior to Maeve’s unraveling, you might be forgiven for reading the book as the writings of a morose, misunderstood introvert desperately clinging to her accepted vision of normalcy. Once her more “eccentric” proclivities begin to come into focus, however, you begin to see how any deviation from her vision might take us from dealing with Holden Caulfield to Patrick Bateman.

Leede clearly has a gift for drawing readers in and keeping them in as she builds her characters. We’re never given too much—constantly on edge as Maeve’s carefully constructed plans begin to fall apart. We get to see every step down into darkness Maeve takes as she releases herself from her bonds, taking full control of “the wolf,” as she calls it. Meanwhile, secondary characters—who are only ever seen from Maeve’s point of view—are given plenty of room to exist in their own right, often pursuing motivations that Maeve either misinterprets or misses completely.

Given the centrality of Bataille and Sade to the story and the sheer debauchery that Maeve finds herself in, I’m looking forward to a second reading so I can explore whether (or to what extent) Leede subscribes to Susan Sontag’s tying of pornographic content, not to sex, but to death. Granted, her connection of the two is explicit enough, in Maeve’s actions, if not in her words; but, if consistent, would add a vital lens through which to empathize with her main character. In fact, it’s Sontag’s essay, “The Pornographic Imagination,” that credits Bataille with connecting “extreme erotic experience” with death by “invest[ing] each action with a weight, a disturbing gravity, that feels authentically ‘mortal,’” a method which Leede uses to great effect in Maeve Fly.

There are only a few parts where the book nearly loses me. Early in the story, while we’re still being introduced to Maeve’s character and how she thinks and sees the world, there are a couple of instances where words or phrases will pop out of place, whether they are meant to highlight Maeve’s disconnection from others or her sociopathic tendencies, it’s as if these were deadline revisions that didn’t get the chance to fully marinate with the text. It’s a rare occurrence, and only worth mentioning to not let it dissuade you from continuing. The more jarring part comes later in the novel after we’ve come to know her thought process fairly well, Maeve begins to adopt a more Bateman-esque tone that, in her mouth, sounds a little too contrived for what we’ve come to expect from her. Admittedly, this comes well after she explicitly finds her inspiration in her copy of Ellis’s American Psycho, but it’s a shift that I wasn’t prepared for.

Overall, Maeve Fly is an impressive debut that doesn’t hold back. Leede is fearless in her willingness to explore some of the darkest corners I’ve seen in a long while, giving us a character who is a thrill to follow, and who keeps us guessing until the end. Maeve Fly is frightening, it’s gross, it’s disturbing and tragic. But most of all, it’s fun as hell to read.


Thanks to Tor Nightfire for an eARC of Maeve Fly in exchange for an unbiased review.

Maeve works at a particular theme park's "B-campus" as a popular ice queen. (The park is never named, but it's in Anaheim; even my dyscalculia-having self can do the math!). Maeve unironically loves her job, her best friend (who plays the sister to Maeve's ice queen), her one-time movie star grandmother, and Los Angeles, but she's got a dark side...and I do mean DARK. Throw Netflix horror series Brand-New Cherry Flavor, American Psycho, and a heaping cup of guts and gore into a blender and you'll get this delightfully disturbing debut. Not for the squeamish!

Thank you to Tor Publishing Group and NetGalley for the ARC I received in exchange for an honest review.

Fabulously disgusting, reading this feels like you're dangling precariously off a cliff, by your entrails. One razor sharp slice away from complete an utter doom that you just ache to feel even though it's shameful. Parts are overwhelming sickly sweet and others are just sickly, but what's for certain is this is going to be one of 2023's greatest in the genre of horror. I feel slightly guilty by how much I enjoyed just how awfully disturbing it is. The ending is heart shredding and I might never get over the fact that I've found something sick, so amazing at the same time!

I absolutely could not resist the comp of 'Anaheim Psycho' and was not at all disappointed with this bloody, grotesque love letter to Los Angeles. Maeve is terrible but fun, and I shudder to say that I enjoyed most of my time in her deeply deranged mind. Who wouldn't love the concept of a theme park princess who gorges herself on literary psychopaths, has a frighteningly intense obsession with her movie star grandmother and aspiring actress best friend, and some disturbing compulsions she just can't ignore?! This book *goes there*, leaning into horror with a feminist edge that puts Easton Ellis to shame. I will admit, though, that the scenes of sexual torture were too much for me, even though they were all off-page or only threatened--I struggle to see what those scenes add to the overall narrative, particularly as Maeve doesn't seem to have core sexual hangups or preoccupations (i.e. the torture isn't easily explained as her working through a psychological fixation or trauma, though that wouldn't necessarily make it any more palatable!). Instead, it reads as a flat marker of her general depravity, but that's already well established in the novel--as such, the sexual torture feels gratuitous and needlessly gruesome.

Maeve Fly is written to shock. I'm OK with that. If it leads somewhere. There didn't seem much point outside of shock in this book. Maeve is a princess, professionally, and where she works is obvious. The park and the city are exaggerated in order to possibly make Maeve's decisions make some kind of sense. They don't. It just never got beyond shock. And, weirdly, I wasn't shocked.

A literate, disgusting, angry, and ineffably heartbreaking read--in other words, the perfect LA horror novel..

Unfortunately, I had to DNF this at 56%.
The reason I had to put it down was because it made me physically ill. Like, couldn't hold down water, bile up my throat, nauseous. If that's the kind of thing you're looking for, you'll love this. Be warned, there are quite a few trigger warnings, the biggest for me being sexual violence and torture.

<b>You want something unique and different to read? Look no further than Maeve Fly.</b>

Maeve Fly is our MC. She is an "ice princess" at a popular amusement park. We all what princess and which amusement park. It just so happens our princess is Halloween obsessed and deeply disturbed. Her best friend (Kate) who is the "ice princess's sister" has a brother named Gideon Green. They end up in somewhat of a dysfunctional relationship. She has some "urges" she struggles to keep at bay (think Dexter vibes). She only cares about 3 things in her life. Her job, her sick grandmother, and her best friend. She becomes completely unhinged once some misfortunes happen with these things. <i>It's best to go into this book as blindly as you can and enjoy the wild ride.</i>

I will say it did take me a little while to get into this book and I would probably describe it as a bit of a slow burn with a majority of the "fun" stuff happening in the last 25% of the book. However, it was very much worth it. It was unique, darkly funny, dark, disturbing, and gory.

<b><i>What a wonderful debut novel. I can't wait to see what twisted story CJ Leede comes up with next. I SEE YOU ;)</i></b>

Thank you CJ Leede, NetGalley, and Tor Publishing Group for the ARC of this book!

This reminded me a lot of ‘New Cherry Flavour’, not in story line but in vibes. An incredibly surrealist read. I have an obsession with completely unhinged, villainous woman as MCs and Maeve certainly fits the bill. The whole book reads like a fever dream as you read through Maeve’s experiences and deviances.

A new-aged ‘Psycho’ but make it extreme and make it Hollywood. Leede does an amazing job at intricately weaving in and out of reality and Maeve’s insanity. I found myself cheering for her, though she is hands down the villain. Exhilarating, disturbing and shocking; Maeve Fly is a book I will not soon forget and will definitely be checking out more by this author as I am very impressed.

It is really good. It’s largely plotless, a winding meander through the main characters breakdown. The main character is fundamentally messed up. This book is truly horrifying and twisted. The horror aspect is well-written and well-paced. The narrative style is fantastically done. I found myself sympathizing with the main character, even as she stylized herself on Patrick Bateman. The LA setting is well-integrated into the story and really adds to it.

Maeve Fly by CJ Leede
TOR Nightfire

Before I get into any of the critical stuff, I just wanted to start this hopefully short(ish) and concise review off by stating that I really enjoyed my time reading this book and essentially read my physical ARC over the course of a few days and couldn’t think about picking anything else up in that time. Leede’s writing is hypnotizing and had me entranced in Maeve’s story from the first page.

The characterization of the supporting characters is excellent, I really liked Gideon and his sister. The gore and horror elements were deliciously nasty and deprived while still feeling very raw and visceral. I think Leede is a rock star and I look forward to what she writes next. People will love this book. That I am certain. Personally, it just felt like the character made a few choices that didn’t match up consistently with her characterization in the first 60-70% of the novel. So let’s dig in.

Maeve is a woman on the precipice of change in her currently “stable” life living with her wealthy grandmother in Los Angeles. She works for a magical theme park and has acquired the much coveted role of the ice princess (queen, technically), and is more than content with her rituals and routines involving her infatuation with the macabre, with Halloween, self-pleasure, her late night hobbies (Much approved, Maeve, cancel those far right conservatives!), and spending time with her best friend. All of this stability Maeve so cherishes is thrown out of sync when a mysterious trail of broken and mangled doll effigies are left in her path throughout town. She feels as though she is being watched, vulnerable, and preyed upon. But Maeve is also a predator.

We have never seen a character like Maeve Fly on page before. For an animalistic killer, she also has a lot of apathy towards a lot of things too. She loves and has sympathy for the things she holds most dear. Her grandmother, her job, the park where she works, her best/closest/only friend, her grandmother's cat, her books, art she is drawn to, etc. She for sure is a sociopath, 100%. But I think there is more to her than that too. She socializes and places herself into a lot of public situations compared to the average anti-social. I do think she feels for the bad things she does, at least her first few kills. Maeve has this sense sense of survival-induced ego that protects her from "feeling" remorse or a sense of morality. I think she is far more animalistic, like a predator, compared to a heartless killing machine. By the end, Maeve is forced to face her inner dark impulses and chooses to act on them, unapologetically, right to the final page of this book.

Strangely enough, I found myself totally justifying and being totally cool with a lot of the things Maeve was put to in the first half of this book. I think it’s important for me to note, too, that I love sex positivity and I also love violence. More than I probably should. However, the one type of violence that you can always miss me on is sexual torture and that you can just miss me on. That Serbian Film-tier shit that just does not appeal to me in the slightest regardless of the gender of the creator or their characters, but we will get into that later. I loved the first 70% of this book. The last 30% (ish) took a bit of a nose dive for me into more… shock value and edgy for edge sake territory and devolved into something a lot less unique than how it began.

***spoiler Section***
***(Scroll to the bottom for final rating)***

Hilda, for example, was not in any danger at all until she placed Maeve's wellbeing (survival) in danger. So it's almost like a fucked up self-defense mechanism. But, so far anyway, she doesn't seem to kill for pleasure or to fulfill a dark need. By the end of the book, I thought I had Maeve pinned as a totally different kind of monster— but her decision to violate Liz with the acid and pipe though just felt like she lost some of those feminism kudos she gained throughout the book. When a male serial killer violates another man or woman, sexually, it’s equally as repulsive and uninteresting (to me). It also throws off Maeve’s character a bit too— like, she’s written as someone who takes down pedophiles and incels but then sexually violates woman in sadistic ways… just gives me two different ideas of the psychology behind why Maeve is the way she is.

But I suppose that’s how it is with most serial killers even in real life. I was just hoping for something a little more… creative? I don’t need her to have an avenging need or reason to kill, which let’s be real, she did. But what detracted so much of the enjoyment and excitement for this book, for me, was the choppy ending that bore two scenes of sexual torture. To be fair, I don’t find it interesting or appealing when men rape and kill and torture either. But that’s just me.

There is also the build up to the girl leaving the doll effigies for her which was a reoccurring plot point throughout the book but ended up canceling itself out as something between a hallucination and Maeve’s boyfriend Gideon’s way of reaching out to her darkness. This felt like two ideas that hadn’t been decided on and so the author went with both, which, isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it made the build up feel caught in flux for me by the end. The imaginary was gorgeously grotesque though. Seriously, Leede matches Brom and Stephen Graham-Jones and even raises the bar for grizzly details.

**End of Spoiler Section**

As for the comparisons to the Easton Ellis book-- it's comp'd all over this book in blurbs and on socials, so I get that vibe. But this also feels far more feminist and progressive than American Psycho. American Psycho can also be interpreted as fantasy/all in Bateman's head too. But he certainly was a sociopath and not really killing for survival either. Maeve Fly gave me more Neon Demon and Hard Candy by way of Ottessa Moshfegh and Marquis de Sade vibes.

I do believe that this book will be talked about long after its been devoured and has a seat at the table any the topic of serial killers in fiction is brought up. If you were to remove those two things she did in those two scenes, this would have been a 4.5, even 5-Star mace-to-the-face read for me!

3.5/5 Stars
WGB Score: 79%

Thank you so much Net Galley and TOR Nightfire for sending me a physical ARC in exchange for an honest review!

I really really wanted to like this book because the synopsis sounded so intriguing. However, I was bored for 3/4 of the book and it really didn’t pick up until I was about 75% in. The concept was interesting, a girl who’s a Disney princess by day at Disneyland, serial killer ar night. However, it was slow paced and very random at some parts. It kept me interested enough to keep me from DNFing but even the ending was lackluster and I wish I had ended my month with a better read.

SUMMARY

During the day, Maeve Fly is a park princess, starring as the ice queen. At night she spends her days in the town she loves, kitsch, glamor, filth and all. Her life is good. She loves her work, has a best friend she cares for deeply, and has a good routine.

There are only two problems.

One: the people she loves won’t be in her life forever.

Two: Maeve Fly is not like the people around her. She is fundamentally different. Dangerous. A wolf among sheep.

When she meets her best friend’s brother, Gideon Green, the vision she had in place for her future changes. Will Maeve continue to hide? Or step into the same bloodsoaked shoes inhabited by so many misanthropic literary heroes before her?

I think you know which she chooses.
REVIEW

After I finished Maeve Fly by C.J. Leede, all I could think was holy fucking shit.

I could talk about the razor sharp prose. I could talk about the horrific mutilation scenes. I could talk about Leede’s willingness to dive head first into pure, unabashed brutality.

(Of note: I do not exaggerate when I talk about the extreme level of brutality. American Psycho is a comp title for many reasons; this is one of them.)

As good as the violence and gore is, as much as they’re deserving of praise, the thing that truly makes Maeve Fly great is the genuine, pure love Maeve has. For the Halloween songs she devotes chapters to, for the very few people in her life she has chosen, for the city around her. In fact, Maeve Fly is in and of itself a love letter to Anaheim, to horror, and to the terror of womanhood.

And, of course, a love letter to American Psycho.

Characters not only directly reference the novel (“She asks what I do for a living. ‘Murders and executions,’ I say.), but Maeve Fly shares several structural similarities (Maeve often discusses her favorite music, à la Bateman’s song reviews).

Leede, however, puts her own spin on her inspirations, bringing a level of delight and excellent character work to Maeve’s world that makes it (in my opinion) a more enjoyable read than American Psycho.

(The tidy page count also helps; Maeve Fly is a tidy 288 pages, whereas American Psycho is over 300.)

While it’s not necessarily to read American Psycho to understand and enjoy Maeve Fly, I found great delight in noticing the parallels and references. I would strongly suggest it.

I would also strongly suggest keeping the Maeve Fly playlist on hand to listen to the songs Maeve discusses, especially if you’re not familiar with them. Leede—and Maeve—have excellent music taste.
FINAL THOUGHTS

This debut will be hard to beat, but I cannot wait to see what Leede writes next.

Maeve Fly has easily joined the ranks of horror books I champion endlessly to anyone who will listen (which I plan to make a list of this year, so stay tuned for literary proselytization). Until then, just know: I want YOU to read Maeve Fly!!

Thank you to Tor for providing a digital ARC via Netgalley, and thank you to C.J. Leede for such a fantastic novel. If you are interested in Maeve Fly, it releases June 6, 2023. Find more information from the publishers or consider supporting indie bookshops by purchasing the novel at Bookshop.org or from your local B&M!

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By day, the woman who calls herself Maeve Fly works as one of the most popular princesses at the happiest kingdom/tourist trap on earth (admittedly, the b-campus that's mostly reserved for adult visitors)—she has the coveted role of the Scandinavian princess villainess/heroine from that famous animated film with the oh so popular song about letting inhibitions go. By night, she's a partier. At all times of the day, however, she thinks some seriously bad thoughts. Sometimes this is about taking a toot of coke while on her shift, sometimes it's about unusual sexual hijinks, and often it involves bloodletting. She's indulged a few of these thoughts, and as her first person narrative continues over the course of several stressful, revelatory days, Maeve Fly will only come to indulge her inner demons all the more.

Maeve lives in her nearly comatose grandmother's spooky mansion in the Los Angeles hills. The only other beings allowed in that place are Hilda, her grandmother's hospice nurse, and Lester the Cat. Maeve pretty much as run of the place, and as her favorite season approaches, she has some interesting plans for decorating this year. Her best friend is fellow princess worker Kate, an aspiring actress who dates bad choices while hoping to score parts in their productions. When Kate's younger brother and professional hocky player Gideon moves to town, Maeve expects him to be some kind of meathead. In fact, he turns out to be much more interesting ... much more twisted in all the right ways.

When Maeve's magic kingdom nemesis Liz finally ascends to managerial position and makes good on all those threats she's been making to terminate Maeve's dream job, well, that might be the last straw to start her down the path of chasing her real dreams … the sort that will make hellish, nightmare lives of her unfortunate victims. Will Gideon or Kate be a part of them? Or how about that nemesis Liz? Will Grandma's house turn into a Hollywood Horror House? Will Maeve ever face consequences for her increasingly disturbing deeds? Some yeses, some noes, and a few twisted surprises await in C.J. Leede's debut novel, Maeve Fly.

Over the years, the psychopath has become a staple in fiction, not merely as an antagonist in a thrilling tale but as a central character. Broken minds offer wonderful food for thought. In fact, the psychopath is a marvel of sorts, which has triumphed in a way that werewolves, vampires, and other monsters have not. It has transcended its penny dreadful origins to become an archetypes that manages to straddle the line between genre and lit. On the one hand, we have Robert Bloch's Psycho and similar psychological suspense yarns, which reflecting the realities of the Ed Geins of the world by moving this character type from society's fringes into its heart, giving it a home (and motel) within our communities and neighborhoods. Then, we have Bret Easton Ellis' first three books, which examines psychosis and nihilism in the children of privilege. As well, there is Hannibal Lectors (from Thomas Harris's popular series) and Quentin P. (from Joyce Carol Oates' highly disturbing Zombie) and similar wickedly intelligent and utterly savage personalities … That's all well and good, but Maeve Fly (and presumably her author C. J. Leede) wonders where are the savage female psychopaths written by women? Well, they exist (Kenzie Jennings' Reception comes to mind), but they haven't broken into the public consciousness quite the same way as the aforementioned killers or the occasional psychopathic women written by men. Here's hoping Leede's effort yields some fruit and breaks this unexpected glass ceiling.

Maeve Fly offers a first-person narrative about a killer who has almost no backstory (and doesn't need one, thanks) making her way through modern day LA, yearning and desiring for the unspeakable and finally exploring her own darkest desires. It's a novel steeped in perversion and graphic horror situation, no small amount of black comedy, and quite a few pointed jabs at coastal cultures and lousy party conversations. It's a hoot of a book if you can get into it.

One of the challenges in doing so is this: Maeve Fly's narrative is all about extremes. The horror she will bring is certainly of the extreme variety, including some creative and savage assaults with curling irons, broken bottles, mice, scissors, and more. However, the extremism is not limited to the violence. It is there in the language and ideas as well. The book opens up with plenty of asides about "what all men want to know" and assumptions about fantasies "all men share " or descriptions of women's breasts as "the source of all despair" for one character. She and her grandmother are the only two wolves in a world populated by sheep. Maeve's got her opinions, and they are not simple personal ones but sweeping statements. Over the course of the book, her eyes are opened to uncomfortable truths—she maybe doesn't know as much as she believes—but mostly, the character is too Narcissistic to think outside herself unless pushed. This can be a bit of a hurtle to overcome for some readers. It also happens to be as pointed and perfect a satiric jab at the world we live now in as Patrick Bateman's obsession over brand names was for the time and world author Bret Easton Ellis lived in then. Of course, recognizing this and maneuvering through the metatexual self-awareness are two very different things—the latter of these more than anything might be the breaking point for some readers.

Yet the book makes some good points on a wide range of its topics of interest, including LA's raising of artifice into artistry, about the double standards audience's have for male and female monsters, about the subtleties to be found in extreme fiction, and about the difficulties people from one coast have while visiting the other. It's a smart book told from the perspective of a perceptive character who's not terribly experienced with the nuances of existence. She hasn't really lived enough for cogent understanding on all the topics she expounds, but on specific topics she's got some cleverness that doesn't come from reading a ton of Wikipedia entries or internet posts.

The author namechecks a few works right there in the text, using them as inspirations for the character herself (as well as citations of a sort for the author's own reading) in a wonderfully metafictional way. So we get Georges Bataille's decadent short novel Story of the Eye, Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club, and Bret Easton Ellis' seminal American Psycho. Maeve Eye will certainly appeal to readers of those works (and maybe turn some fresh attention toward the Bataille), but the lack of references to savage women suggests the character is woefully underread. When Maeve Fly is at its best, it gets as down and dirty mean as vintage Charlee Jacob, Lucy Taylor, or Joyce Carol Oates. It's as engaging and graphic as the best works by Gemma Files or Lucy A. Snyder.

As a serial killer novel, Maeve Fly is pretty well aligned to find a solid and loyal readership. Moreover, it's a lovely bit of literary suspense and horror that provides a good glimpse into how it feels to live in the madhouse 2020s. It's a literate, clever, and emotionally engaging book. It's also got a few disgusting sequences of creative mayhem that are rather inspired. It's not necessarily fun for folks who cannot indulge in its often perverse sense of humor, but it's a well written work that also happens to be a page turner of the highest order.
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A special thank you to NetGalley and Tor Nightfire for offering an eARC in exchange for an honest review.