Our Marketing & Design Assistant Naia’s latest listen.
My inner eldritch horror totally squee’d when I found out we were publishing a Lovecraft-inspired detective thriller. I read the manuscript before the audio was done, and then I listened to the audiobook. Carter & Lovecraft, read by Ari Fliakos, is a perfect blend of thriller, noir, and good old-fashioned Lovecraftian fun. Here you’ll find evil math wizardry, existential horror, and creepy inbred fish people; not to mention a Monty Python-inspired murder and a renewed sense of dread toward geometry. Yep, this has been a list of things you didn’t even know you needed in your life until now!
When NYPD detective Daniel Carter’s partner abruptly commits suicide during a high-profile arrest, Carter’s career dies along with his friend. Settling into a low-key life as a private gumshoe, he’s taken aback when a lawyer informs him he’s inherited an antiquarian bookstore from a stranger in Providence. It’s weird enough that the bookstore’s only employee turns out to be the last living descendant of H.P. Lovecraft, but the strangeness doesn’t stop there. A call for help from a professor of mathematics—made after his death in a parked car—forces both Carter and Lovecraft into the terrifying realization that perhaps old H.P. didn’t make up anything after all.
Ari Fliakos is a fabulous narrator, and his voice is especially suited to convey the simultaneous weirdness and mundanity in Carter & Lovecraft. From cynical ex-detective Carter, to wry and clever Emily Lovecraft—“If he only knew one of his descendants had fallen in love with a black girl. Truly, I would give serious money to see how he would’ve reacted. ‘Why, what’s all this spinning noise coming out of this coffin? Hi, great Uncah Howard, I’m Emily. We’re family. Yay!’”—to creepy William Colt, Fliakos nails every personality and brings to life a warped, otherworldly Providence. A Providence in which magic returning to the world is the last thing you want.
Listen to an excerpt of Jonathan L. Howard’s Carter & Lovecraft, read by Ari Fliakos: