In Hayley Dennings's visceral, haunting debut, This Ravenous Fate, two best friends-turned enemies--one of them a vampire--must work together to investigate a spree of murders in 1926 Harlem. This queer Black YA fantasy simmers with tension and darkness as it explores grief, trauma, betrayal, and desire rooted in the Black experience during the Jazz Age.

North American colonists unethically experimented on Black and brown people in the 1600s. These victims of the "curiosity of the New World" were "prodded, drugged, bled, and tortured" to the point where some of them became vampires, or "reapers." Though the humans thought they had killed all the reapers, one--Valeriya--evaded their guns and bonfires. She created more reapers over the centuries, forming her own clan in New York City's Harlem, where she still rules during the Roaring '20s. This burgeoning reaper population has led to humans needing to protect mortal life. Tobias Saint, a steelmaker, began manufacturing and distributing bullets made from a special alloy that permanently eradicates reapers. He then expanded his business to include reaper-hunting services, forming the Saint empire.

Tobias's daughter, Elise, was sent to Paris after being attacked by reapers multiple times, including an assault by her childhood best friend and newly turned reaper, Layla Quinn. Five years later, Elise, now 18, returns to celebrate the 10-year anniversary of her family's company. Elise expects her father to name her heir to the business but is shocked when he hands the reins to her younger sister, Josi, whose noninteraction with reapers makes her less likely to be a target of the monsters.

Layla was greatly influenced by the Saints growing up, so she feared reapers and cursed them with the "same fury a Christian might condemn the devil." But her parents wanted to work with the reapers. Five years ago, they secretly planned to meet with Valeriya to help form a peace agreement. Elise, fearing for their lives, told her father about their plans, thinking he would convince them not to go. Instead, feeling threatened by the Quinns, he spread lies about their intentions, incensing the reapers. They attacked and killed Layla's parents and then turned Layla. Now, as a member of Valeriya's clan, she blames Elise's family for her "ruination"--every good part of her life has been stolen by her reaperhood and she is eager to exact revenge.

Elise and Layla are forced to come together, though, when two Saint associates and a 15-year-old boy are murdered, and Layla is the prime suspect. Elise convinces her father to install her as heir and let her take the lead on the investigation, sure she can get Layla to admit to wrongdoing. Layla agrees to work with Elise to prove her innocence, but also to show that something more sinister might be happening. The boy found dead alongside the associates had been a newly turned reaper Layla met just days earlier. Now, in death, he is human again. Could it be the result of a reaper bite antidote that one of the associates was working on? Or is something more dangerous lurking among them? Elise and Layla's investigation takes them all over town, including a cold and desolate morgue and a festive gala. The young women desperately try to uncover the evil spreading throughout the city, all while grappling with their deep attraction to one another.

Debut novelist Hayley Dennings deftly braids together vampire lore, anti-Black racism, and female rage in This Ravenous Fate, an immersive, atmospheric first book in a duology. The foundation of Dennings's story is its solid exploration of racism. She roots the dawn of reaperdom in slavery and uses reapers as physical representations of anti-Blackness and the spreading poison of racism. This fictional account of the Black experience is paired with smart commentary on the realities of being a Black person in the 1920s in the U.S., with discussions about the exploitation of Black entertainers, the minimalization of Black victims, and the lack of humanity afforded to Black people. This melding of fantasy and reality comes together to form a riveting, plausible world.                                                                          

Through such worldbuilding, Dennings also creates an ominous and enveloping atmosphere with gruesome yet alluring imagery. Setting this story during the Harlem Renaissance is a smart choice, not only for the rich history the time period presents but also for the lavishness and chaos of the era, whether it be socialites gossiping behind feathered fans or politicians conferring with gangsters. Dennings skillfully contrasts this colorful spectacle of "twisted pearls" and "spilling cash" with macabre scenes filled with graphic depictions of violence: "Nails tore through fabric and flesh, separating ribs until they cracked beneath the force." The dichotomy of visuals is enthralling.

Dennings's characters are dynamic and complex. Elise experiences anxiety, guilt, and OCD stemming from familial pressures and past traumatic events. She witnessed violence and malice at a young age, and she is inherently vulnerable because she's Black in a "country where strength was expected of her, and anger made her a target." It's no wonder she finds "security in her numbers and rituals." Dennings masterfully treats Elise's emotional state with care and thoughtfulness, eliciting sympathy for and understanding of her panic attacks and compulsive episodes. Layla, a creature that doesn't inherently warrant tenderness or affection, maintains enough humanity to be an enticing character. Dennings infuses her with an understandable and relatable longing for love as well as a deeply rooted terror and aversion to being "damned."

Layla and Elise's shared experiences unequivocally draw them together, regardless of their mixed feelings about their connection. Whether it's the "thorny thrill" of Layla's words stirring in Elise or the buzz of Layla's skin from Elise's "essence of fatal attraction," Dennings creates a palpable tension between them that is bewitching and compelling.

This Ravenous Fate is a captivating, blood-soaked story centered on the Black experience in the early 20th century that glimmers with thrills and opulence. --Lana Barnes

Hayley Dennings

Hayley Dennings's love of words and championing queer Black voices led her to study English and French at Loyola Marymount University with a focus on diversity and inclusion. She currently resides in the Bay Area. This Ravenous Fate (Sourcebooks Fire, August 6, 2024) is her first novel. Here, Dennings (@hayleyybaileyy) talks about miserable immortals, leaning into the darkness, and the necessity of the arts in shaping our culture.

What sparked the idea for this story? Why did you choose 1920s Harlem as its setting?

Funnily enough, I was having a conversation with my friend when the idea for reapers sparked in my mind. We were discussing what it would be like to be immortal and be totally miserable. That led me to wonder about immortal creatures that deteriorated as they aged, which made for a story that was impossible to romanticize. I think vampires came to me naturally from there, as well as the duality of having a human interacting with someone who was recently turned and still yearning for their humanity. I thought that contrast would be fascinating to explore, especially in an emotionally charged dynamic such as best friends turned enemies.

For the tiniest moment, I had This Ravenous Fate set in 1920s San Francisco. The time period was always the same because I had just read some books in my Black Women Writers class that took place in the 1920s and I found that era to be extremely interesting. I kept asking myself, "It's the Roaring '20s and a time of fun and partying, but was it really fun for everyone?" I knew there was so much Black history that had been erased to make the U.S. seem more palatable. I wondered what it would have been like if people literally could not ignore the consequences of anti-Black racism. That brought me to ask, "What if you could see anti-Blackness spreading like a poison?" It tied perfectly into my idea of reaperhood and mirrored the unethical experimentation that has occurred in history--also heavily erased. I wanted to uncover everything. Researching the Harlem Renaissance felt like connecting with a part of my own history and it was so fun to thread real life with the fantasy I'd created. Everything fell into place after that.

What makes your vampire story different from those that came before it?

I love this question because I was so afraid people would hate that I call the vampires "reapers" and that they can go in the sun. So, getting to explain my reasoning for changing things is fun. The main thing that's different is their lore. It's based on Black history--the atrocities that much of the U.S. has tried to ignore and brush under the rug. My vampire story is centered on Black people and their experiences. We've been left out of these types of stories for so long. I love the classic vampire traits like craving blood and being damned by their immortality, so I really built my own tragic creature around that, while leaving out the less convenient aspects, like not being able to go in the sun (that would have made the story much more difficult because Layla and Elise do most of their investigating during the day).

There are some pretty gruesome scenes in this story--"Blood covered the walls in chaotic sprays, half-eaten organs scattered around the floor." Talk us through how you came up with these descriptions.  

I wanted to lean into the darkness because so much of the book is about these reapers feeling doomed by these violent impulses. Also, due to me being a horror fan, leaning into the darkness felt natural. I've seen some nasty things in horror movies, so those helped me come up with the gruesome descriptions. I also have no gauge when it comes to graphicness. A lot of people tell me this book is really dark and bloody, but it feels average to me because I'm so used to stuff like this in the movies I watch. Though I normally don't prefer gore--I prefer more psychological horror--the bloodlust and blood are a large part of the vampire genre, so it only felt right emphasizing those aspects.

Why did you choose to call your vampires "reapers"?

I knew I didn't want to call reapers "vampires" because there are so many preconceived ideas about vampires. I wanted people to go into the story with a fresh mind. Reapers are also meant to be physical manifestations of death, so the name felt fitting as it related to the Grim Reaper.

Is there a character you relate to the most? If so, why?

Elise, my poor girl--I dumped all my problems onto her. She was so difficult for me to write because of how similar she is to me. It's a little embarrassing--I did not mean to do that. But she's so anxious and focused on perfection. She deals with OCD and depression and beats herself up over every little thing--she's SO ME.

Layla was a ballet dancer when she was human and Elise is a piano prodigy. Are the arts part of your life? Is there a particular art you gravitate toward (other than writing!)? 

The arts shaped a lot of my childhood. I played clarinet, I was in choir, I danced all throughout high school. I still really love dance, though I don't practice any of the styles I used to. Even though I never got super serious about any of it to consider them in a professional capacity, the arts have always been important to me. I understand the necessity of them in shaping our culture and our lives and connecting with others. Researching the Harlem Renaissance only further confirmed that for me.

You've chosen words from Langston Hughes and Phillis Wheatley to use as epigraphs for your novel. In what kind of story would you like your words to be used as an epigraph?

A queer Black book! Or a Black book, or a queer book. I have never imagined my words outside the context of their Blackness and queerness, but it would be an honor for them to be used as an epigraph in any story, truly. --Lana Barnes