The best dark fiction serial killer books

An engrossing read about a food critic’s life, bumpy career, and murders. There is death and consumption, sex and violence; there is depravity in the mundane. Sometimes voices sparkle, others pop off the page, and then there is Chelsea G. Summer’s Dorothy Daniels. She dug into my brain and picked at it like a scab. From the first page, Summers hooked me on a razor-sharp fishing line. Dorothy recounts stories like an old friend would—if your old friend would describe killing a man and her vagina in equal parts disturbing and eloquent language. There was disgust but also a sense of empowerment. I wanted all of her dirty little secrets. And oh, does Dorothy love to talk.

Scarlett Clark is a bi serial killer who kills bad men. Carly Schiller is a queer student who just escaped an abusive father. Their storylines are equally gripping, with moments of unexpected intensity in both lust and fear. Layne Fargo creates a world so grounded in reality that, as a woman, it was painful to read at times—micro-aggressions, normalized inappropriate touching. Fargo doesn’t exaggerate it, she just exposes it as part of the narrative. Better yet, she gives a glimmer of equalization in the form of Scarlett who focuses her urge to kill in a direction that’s easy to root for, to want to read. It was wanting a serial killer to go on with her work that made this book and Scarlett a standout.

In most procedurals, you root for the “bad guy” to get caught. Noelle Holten created a killer you want to see get away, stay hidden in the shadows, and continue doing the good work. The story unfolds from the perspectives of battered women, the abusers, and the detective constable (UK term for lowest-ranking detective). Telling the story from so many points of view brings a level of tension that one finds in suspense or thriller novels, which is why it’s made it on this list. As I read the violence committed against innocent women, it was impossible not to echo many characters in the book as they grapple with wanting to find the killer. It’s that waffling that makes each horrible man’s death more satisfying than the last.

I must start off by saying that I don’t recommend this book to most people. Why put it on a recommendation list, you wonder? Because it was a stunning, hard-to-read, sickening, shocking, brutal, dull, fascinating, darkly humorous, well-written novel that is on most people’s disturbing or DNF (did not finish) lists for a reason. I feel I would be remiss not to have it on this list. I don’t know if I can say I loved a book like this, but Bret Easton Ellis wrote a novel that will always stick to my ribs for its casual violence, its blasts of extreme sexuality, and most of all, Patrick Bateman himself. He will certainly be one of the most memorable serial killers of all time.

The biggest strength of this book is a large spoiler, which is a shame. I’d love to gush about it. You (should you choose to read it) get to learn about it as the work unfolds, though. For that, I’m jealous. Who doesn’t love to enjoy something so fun for the first time? The choice of victims and the reason for the kills makes the serial killer so compelling I rooted for the detective to always be one step behind. I loved him, don’t get me wrong. He is flawed and damaged, and I wanted him to succeed eventually. Thomas Holgate makes it easy to do that—want them both to “win”—as both have a point-of-view. The book was fun, interesting, and just a little brutal.