“You were warned.”
Adult literary horror about ordinary people who receive warnings so precise they cannot be doubted — and walk into the fire anyway. Standalone novels. The dread is in the math, not the monster.
Each one is a self-contained warning. Read in any order. The cost of stopping is something the protagonists can’t pay either.

A history teacher. A promise to his mother. A spreadsheet that makes the math work. Until it doesn’t. A stranger at the diner tells him exactly how this ends. He places the bet anyway.

A town clerk discovers twenty years of falsified water reports. Six hundred jobs depend on the plant. Her sister’s husband works the line. A woman at the DMV tells her exactly what happens when she files the truth. She files it anyway.

A senior property assessor. A brother who always knows a guy. Eleven seconds of keyboard. A stranger on the Route 22 bus tells Dennis exactly how this ends. Dennis has never found the word that comes before no.

A trauma surgeon and ER physician. A teenage son who is too stable. A mother in slow decline. The promise she made her husband at his deathbed is the standing order she can’t discharge — and the patient she keeps missing is in her own house.

A Montana hardware-store owner keeping a failing shop open — because closing it means closing the last room where his dead son existed.
More warnings, more strangers. News and previews →