Killing is objectively bad. Serial killers are objectively worse. Irredeemable. Evil. Deserving of the worst possible punishment. Of course, that’s all much simpler to say when you’re talking about a stranger in the news. What if the killer turns out to be a friend? A family member? A co-worker? Maybe someone you’ve known since you were born? Or even, someone living in your very own house?
The protagonist of Haven’t Killed in Years, Gwen, is the daughter of notorious serial killer, Abel Haggerty. When she was nine years old, her father was finally caught. This was not an earth-shattering reveal to his daughter; she had witnessed many of these crimes. It’s how she was raised.
There is a fascinating opportunity for story-telling when a protagonist knows what is right or wrong, but finds the wiring of their brain bucking against those truths. Whether it is love, familiarity, or old-fashioned brainwashing, the foundations of human relationships are strong, even withstanding the most egregious behaviors.
Now Gwen is an adult, living in anonymity, hoping that just because she is her father’s daughter, it doesn’t mean she needs to follow in his footsteps. The problem is, someone has left a severed arm on her doorstep, and they know her secret.
There is no step-by-step manual for how to exist in the orbit of a serial killer and there is no guarantee for what your life will be like as a result. That’s what makes it such a fertile ground for fiction.
Here are five books that hinge on living in the close proximity of a serial killer.
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Oyinkan Braithwaite, My Sister, the Serial Killer
Korede is bitter. She’s sick of cleaning up after her little sister, literally. Ayoola kills her victims and relies on Korede to handle the aftermath. From the first page, My Sister, The Serial Killer contrasts the complexities of family loyalty with morality.
Korede’s loyalty is tested when her longtime unrequited love asks for her sister’s phone number. Korede knows what it means to be one of the men in Ayoola’s life, or more accurately, how it ends.
I love how this story weaves in glimpses of the past to explain Korede’s mindset. She was her sister’s protector from a very young age and that relationship does not dissipate after one murder…or two…or maybe three? Korede’s struggle is a fascinating conundrum and an unnerving story.
Samantha Downing, My Lovely Wife
I hope no one treats this book as self-help to spice up their stale marriage because for the protagonists in this book, the trick to a happy marriage is getting away with murder(s). The story centers on a “perfect” suburban couple with 2.0 children who all eat organic dinners together at the table. The difference is that this husband bonds with his wife over stalking their next victim. . .happy wife, happy life after all.
The trouble with such a sick and, of course, illegal extra-curricular activity is the risks that come with escalation, the doubts that creep in about your accomplice, and the cracks that cause your secret life to ooze into the life you want others to see. This isn’t tennis, you can’t just quit and walk away.
My Lovely Wife provides an enthralling look at being in the orbit of a serial killer. Someone you love, someone you chose to make a life with, someone you encouraged to kill…and they could say the same exact things about you. I loved how this book is told from the perspective of the husband, a narrator whose own involvement clouds his ability to clearly see what is really at stake.
Stacy Willingham, A Flicker in the Dark
Chloe is a successful psychologist with her own practice and a wedding on the horizon, but her drawer full of pills are a constant reminder that her past still haunts her. When she was twelve, her father confessed his crimes to the police, the crimes that had plagued their small town all summer. Six teenage girls were missing, their bodies never to be found.
Now, Chloe is struggling to plan her wedding in the shadow of the twenty year anniversary. When two local teenage girls go missing, she can’t ignore the parallels, even if it puts her at the mercy of her own paranoia.
This book masterfully addresses the seismic shift that can occur when you discover a trusted loved one is a monster. The brain can’t accept it as an isolated incident. A Flicker in the Dark is full of twists, and is an unflinching look at the psychological impact that horrific summer had on Chloe and her family.
Clémence Michallon, The Quiet Tenant
Aidan is a hardworking, handsome father and widow. He’s also a serial killer. The Quiet Tenant is told from the perspective of the three women in his orbit: Cecilia, his 13-year-old daughter, Emily, the local woman with a growing crush, and Rachel, the woman he didn’t kill, but instead has held prisoner for the past five years.
After the death of his wife, Aidan and his daughter are forced to leave their home. Even though he has lost the convenience of his locked, sound-proof, shed, he can’t bring himself to let Rachel go. The move is a risk and he’s underestimated the resilience of his victim, the curiosity of his new acquaintance, and the intuition of his own daughter.
The interwoven perspectives of Rachel, Cecilia, and Emily paint a portrait of a complex and manipulative man. As a reader, even knowing his crimes, I still found myself taken in by the same charm that touched Emily.
As the narrative unfolded, I caught myself praising what a good father Aidan could be. And, although I never lost sight of the desire for Rachel to escape, I was often lost in the psychological toll captivity had taken on her, to the point that I wondered if it was possible for a reader to suffer from Stockholm syndrome because that’s what spending time in this world began to feel like.
Saratoga Schaefer, Serial Killer Support Group
Cyra has always gone to great lengths to protect her sister, Mira, maybe even going too far. But when Mira is murdered and left displayed in the signature style of a suspected serial killer, Cyra is willing to do anything to catch the perpetrator, even if it means putting herself directly in the crosshairs of known serial killers.
Making use of insider information, Cyra learns of a top secret support group for serial killers and commences an undercover mission that brings her toe-to-toe with ruthless murderers. Cyra is forced…or inspired to participate in increasingly dark and questionable activities. At some point she has to wonder, is all this really for Mira?
I loved the exploration of how Cyra found justification for her actions by surrounding herself with the worst of the worst and then framing herself in comparison. She tells herself that she’s playing a character, but serial killers are known for their manipulative and calculating nature, and Cyra is fitting right in. She’s involved in a dangerous game, one she asked to play.
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