George Dunn’s Top Reads of 2025

Agh, here we are again, hey? It’s that time of year where I am allowed, without judgment (thems the rules) to self-indulgently tell you all about my year, and the best books I read within it. Definitely a joy for me, and also definitely a thrill for you! Right? Right? 2025 has been absolutely shambolic, on a personal level, but also more broadly. Awful (really, I’m glad it’s over) but not unwaveringly so: I started a degree, I conducted some interviews with some excellent authors, I was interviewed in turn, which is both deeply flattering and absolutely nerve-wracking, and most importantly, or at least most relevant to this list, in the cracks between all of that, I read a tonne of good shit. How many exactly? I don’t know, because I’ve been absolutely awful at logging my reading this year- but out of an approximate 150 horror novels, these were the best of the best, the cream of the crop.

Is it deeply immodest and wildly self-indulgent to write this no doubt dramatically long list, and then put it onto the internet, assuming anybody will care? Yes, certainly, but more so, this is, short of grabbing my acoustic guitar and bouncing pebbles off of Joe Hill’s window, the grandest gesture of love and adoration I can muster toward those very special books that made me feel: fear, empathy, joy- hope at a time in which that’s in short supply. That’s what this is. Once again then, take my hand, it’s sticky only with enthusiasm, and allow me to guide you through my top reads of 2025.

I figured we would just get the obvious out of the way, hey? Joe Hill has and will continue to absolutely dominate 2025 best of lists with the monolithic wonder that is “King Sorrow,” and, in case you hadn’t worked it out already, this list is really no different. I wish I could be contrarian (not really) or offer you some new insight, but I had such a beautiful, absolutely hysterical, reading experience with this Brobdingnagian beauty of a book, that it would be dishonest, borderline egregious of me to exclude it. Six friends, four decades, a dragon and a dodgy deal, “King Sorrow,” is a doorstop of a book and I savoured every page of it, wrists aching, heart full, brain buzzing. It’s a best book of 2025, easily- it’s also a best book of the decade. I gush about it a little more in my full review, which Joe Hill said was well-written, another notable highlight of the year, I won’t lie to you.

Let me make it up to you with a novel that, to my bafflement, I believe, went largely unappreciated this year. Neil Sharpson’s “The Burial Tide,” was one of the torrent, the deluge of (admittedly rather consistently excellent) horror novels that hit us on September 9th. There’s a couple of other of those releases on this list, but certainly the most overlooked, and perhaps, if pushed, my favourite of the bunch is this one. Briny and bruising, with this really cloying, pervasive sense of distrust and unease from the very moment our protagonist wakes up after being buried alive, some really nice Barker-esque body horror, a chorus of unreliable narrators, a folkloric element that left me slack-jawed, and a great sense of humour, I will continue to do my utmost to get this book into people’s hands. Here’s my full review.

I went into 2025 not needing any more convincing that Gemma Amor is an absolute tour de force, a true horror heavyweight, and yet she still managed to knock me clean off of my feet with “Itch!” K.O. As its title might suggest, this novel will have you scratching away until you’re raw. An infestation made up of a genuinely compulsive mystery, a sharp feminist folkloric element, and a loyal pup, this is Amor at the top of her game, and she’s always played the game ridiculously well. It’s obviously gorgeous prose, the pacing is sublime and the result is this viscerally disgusting, incredibly precise novel that feels alive and under your skin. To top it all off, I got spectacularly plastered at the book launch. You can read my full review here- note that if you are in the US, then you still have a January release date to look forward to. 

Whilst we’re talking about that book launch and good pups, I must follow up with “Good Boy.” Goodness gracious me. I finished this book for the first time, and misty-eyed, shook my fist and cursed Neil McRobert. I read this book a second time having decided I was too busy crying to appreciate it properly the first time around, and cried again. I laughed, wept, blew my nose into the nearest available fabric. As I was so busy whilst reading it, I’m still not 100% sure when I say this is the perfect novella, but as far as I know, there is not a word out of place in this truly stellar debut. “Good Boy,” follows a man named Jim and his dog Riot- it is a coming-of-age novel for the ages, a love story in its purest from and I have yet to speak to anyone who read it without feeling incredibly warmed by McRobert’s storytelling, and then really very angry at the… man. I should note Neil is somebody I deeply admire, you’ll just have to trust me. Here is my full review. 

Stay with me here, whilst on holiday with my family, we were given a round of shots with the bill. My mum knocked hers back and announced it was a delicious limoncello, turns out, they give that to the mums, and everybody else gets raki, which tastes like paint stripper as far as I’m concerned. It was unexpected and kinda stung. Now, last year I very much enjoyed “Where The Dead Brides Gather,” by Nuzo Onoh, a folkloric horror fantasy- went down nice. I picked up “Futility,” expecting something similar, and as opposed to that I got…what it actually is. It blindsided me, burnt going down, and knocked me off of my feet- very much the raki in this regrettable metaphor. Sorry. Anyway, God it’s superb. A violent, bawdy novel that revolves around some of the vilest and most unlikeable characters, “Futility,” is a well-seasoned tale of karma, materialism and capitalism, that questions the very meaning of life. It’s hot and sour and bloody, and if I haven’t sold you already (you drive a hard bargain) its tagline “Murder. Revenge. Soup,” has got to finish the job. We follow Claire and Chia, two women driven together by something supernatural, who manage to achieve total carnage almost entirely by themselves. Here is my full review.

Play Nice- Rachel Harrison

“Play Nice,” is another novel that will quite rightly end up on a bunch of these lists- and if I’m to be honest and accurate, it has to be on mine too. Frankly Rachel Harrison’s work continues to be so exemplary, funny, and sharp, that so long as she puts one out a year, you will likely find it on my best of list. Where it diverges from last year’s round-up though (in which “So Thirsty,” featured) is that I found “Play Nice,” not just to be entertaining, which it is, not just to be precisely paced and compellingly written, which it is, not just to have a strong and complex female lead, which it does, but to be really very scary- more so than even “The Return,” I would assert. This one follows Clio who returns to her mother’s home after she passes away. Her mom was pretty complex, infamous within the family and more broadly for the Amityville-esque claims she made in her memoir “The Demon of Edgewood Drive,” …about the house in question. The result is a novel about grief, perception, the public gaze and the bubblegum misogyny the media is rife with. It’s a riot, and here’s my full review.

It’s difficult in these lists to not get too caught up with the latter half of the year, and if I’m totally transparent, there’s likely some unconscious, understandable (I hope) bias toward the stuff I read more recently. That being said, I couldn’t, wouldn’t, and will never forget Nat Cassidy’s “When The Wolf Comes Home,” which I read back in January. Again, I’d read Cassidy before and respected him and his writing immensely, but Wolf? It transcended what I thought a horror novel should be, could be… could do. It was the first of my five five star reads this year. I’d give it six if I could. It follows Jess who comes home from what may already be the worst day ever to find a child, scared and alone. She asks where his parents might be, and doesn’t have to wait long before his dad, the wolf in question, rocks up. “When The Wolf Comes Home,” is horror at its most existential and imaginative, an examination of grief and fatherhood and fear itself that really did stand the whole of 2025 in good stead. Also, that one death, you know the one, fucked me up good. Here is my ramble, in which my fragile mental state is apparent.

Leigh Radford’s “One Yellow Eye,” is possibly my favourite zombie novel ever, and it had me in absolute hysterics this year. With “Good Boy,” and “King Sorrow,” and “The Buffalo Hunter Hunter,” and this damn book… I have never cried so much, so on one hand, well played Leigh Radford, but on the other hand, ouch. Anyway, “One Yellow Eye,” is a tense, simmering slow burn, it does have some very detailed and yet still comprehensible and really very interesting science to it, but above all, it is a love story. London is recovering from a zombie apocalypse- after containing the pandemic, ergo, shooting all the zombies, progress is slow but steady. Vital research is underway, and bio-medical scientist Kesta Shelley is desperate to be involved. The reason being is that the virus hasn’t truly been contained, her infected husband Tim is handcuffed to her radiator, and she is desperate to find him a cure. A preposterously good debut novel from an author I’m already craving more from, “One Yellow Eye,” is a novel about what it means to try and preserve, to grieve and to love, and you can read my full review here.

“Veil,” by Jonathan Janz is a glorious bit of sci-fi horror that anyone who follows me to any degree will probably know about already, but I don’t mind running through it again, and again if needed, and some more if people will listen. John Calhoun is mid-argument with his teenage son Sam when his boy seemingly vanishes into thin air. The family is anxious, confused and distraught, emotions that intensify when they find that similar disappearances have been cropping up all across the country, and that the US population is gradually being snatched up into the air by invisible aliens. Janz’s character work is as sublime as it truly always is, and the pacing on this one makes it entirely impossible to put down- it has the same kind of break-neck speed as Keith Rosson’s “Coffin Moon,” which, not to spoil this list for you, is an honorable mention. “Veil,” is a novel that will effectively kill any slump you may be sliding into, but it’s not something you skim and move on from. It’s deeply emotive, wonderfully executed and for an alien novel, it says an awful lot about the human race. We need a film and I’ll make it myself if I have to. Here’s my full review.

The last of my top ten (this week, because these picks are forever fluid and negotiable) is actually one of my most recent reads. Catherine Dang’s “What Hunger,” is this mouth-watering feminist coming-of-age cannibalism story. It follows Ronnie who is about to begin high school, and her older brother about to start college. It’s a time of massive upheaval, and when a tragedy befalls the family, things spiral spectacularly out of control for our protagonist. I read this novel in two sittings, it is glorious and enthralling, and despite the premise being a teenage girl who becomes addicted to eating raw meat, and subsequently hungry for flesh, this descent feels almost natural, never rushed or beyond belief. This is a novel about identity,rage and hunger and has a death that upset me on the same level Big Hero bloody Six did. It was a brutal but brilliant way to begin rounding off my year of horror. Here is my full length review.

I wouldn’t want to imply that this is a massive, almost Herculean undertaking and that I am a hero… but just picking 10 books is incredibly incredibly difficult. Luckily I have no regard for that, so let us proceed, at speed and with the same enthusiasm, through my many, many, many honorable mentions. These are the books that could be quite arbitrarily subbed in and out on any given day- I love them all. 

Acquired Taste- Clay McLeod Chapman

Clay McLeod Chapman blew me away twice this year, but seeing as “Wake Up and Open Your Eyes,” got some pre-emptive loving on my 2024 list, we’ll focus on “Acquired Taste,” a mixtape of Chapman’s best short stories that I’ve taken to calling Clay GOLD. This collection was so freaky and weird and I had a spectacular time with it- it has demonic breast pumps and salamander worshipping nuns, and my fear of baby carrots persists. It’s Clay all over. Here’s the full review.

The Buffalo Hunter Hunter- Stephen Graham Jones

“The Buffalo Hunter Hunter,” by Stephen Graham Jones is the singular novel on this list that does not have a corresponding review, and that’s because it’s a singular novel. I have no words, and I continue to have no words as to just how excellent it is. The words may never come, but I do have a t-shirt, two stickers, a poster, and 4 copies of the damn thing. SGJ is probably my favourite author, and he outdid himself with this one. Justice for Weasel Plume.

Coffin Moon- Keith Rosson

 I touched on “Coffin Moon,” earlier, and I have to emphasise that it is really remarkable, a bloody raucous revenge story for the ages, with commentary upon power and rage, and my favourite vampire in decades. A cross-country chase that literally had me reading on the edge of my seat, “Coffin Moon,” is texturally like a gnarly paperback from the 70s, and if you enjoyed “Veil,” or “When The Wolf Comes Home,” then this one is quite simply a no-brainer. Here’s the full review. 

Witchcraft For Wayward Girls- Grady Hendrix

“Witchcraft for Wayward Girls,” by Grady Hendrix was the first book I read this year, and it was, of course, an absolute banger. Grim, gripping and… groovy, whilst Hendrix’s latest might be set in the 60s, it rather alarmingly is equally poignant in 2025. It’s a rageful novel that acknowledges the past and current sins of the US government, whilst still being as consumable as any other Grady Hendrix novel. His character work here is remarkable, might I add. Here’s the full review.

Fiend- Alma Katsu

“Fiend,” by Alma Katsu is a sleek and acidic novella that sinks its teeth into the issues of class, misogyny and corruption within corporate America. The comparison to Severance is a valid one, but a little reductive- Katsu’s prose, pacing and commentary can’t be compared really. A truly scandalous read, Katsu’s first pivot away from the historical floored me this year- it’s ruthless, timely, cathartic, and I read it cover to cover, compulsively. My full review is here.

Lucky Day- Chuck Tingle

Chuck Tingle’s “Lucky Day,” is absolutely his best yet. It’s goopy and bizarre and fantastical, but also so intelligent and full of depth, emotion and existentialism. Maximalist horror through and through, “Lucky Day,” is a novel that forces readers to question the point of everything, literally their very existence, before validating it, and demonstrating to us once again, that love is real. Never has that been so important, I don’t think. Here’s a full length review for your perusal.

The Captive- Kit Burgoyne

I’m going to with a heavy heart, conclude this alarmingly long list with Kit Burgoyne’s “The Captive,” which is gritty and barbed, and satirical in its approach to the British political landscape, which, were it not so abysmal, might make for a nice change. This one is Levin’s “Rosemary’s Baby,” meets Black Mirror’s “The National Anthem,” and I do wish a couple more people would give this zinger a whirl. Again, it’s fast-moving, absolutely hilarious, and all too apt. Here’s the full review.

Okay, see you next year.