From the Bram Stoker Award–winning author of Queen of Teeth and A Game in Yellow, a “blissfully twisted and genuinely heartfelt” (Rachel Harrison, New York Times bestselling author of Play Nice) literary horror novel following a young woman on the heels of a traumatic break-up as she anxiously awaits an impending alien abduction.
When Rabbit was ten years old, she was abducted by aliens. Then, it happened again when she was twenty. Now thirty, she’s ready for their next visit. What she isn’t prepared for is her boyfriend callously ending their long-term relationship and ejecting her from their shared home.
As her birthday approaches, the aliens still haven’t arrived. Rabbit descends into a spiral of growing paranoia and bizarre bodily transformations, until soon it seems that even her reflection has a mind of its own. With her only refuge being the chaos of strangers who might not have her best interests at heart, Rabbit worries that her ex’s abandonment not only severed her from his life, but also from her own. Struggling to orient herself within a world growing more topsy-turvy by the day, Rabbit must regain control before her aliens at last return.
Hailey Piper is the Bram Stoker Award-winning author of Queen of Teeth, A Game in Yellow, Teenage Girls Can Be Demons, A Light Most Hateful, The Worm and His Kings, No Gods for Drowning, and other books of dark fiction. She is also the author of over 120 short stories appearing in Weird Tales, Pseudopod, The End of the World As We Know It, and many more publications. Her non-fiction appears in Writer's Digest, Tor Nightfire, CrimeReads, and Library Journal. Find her at www.haileypiper.com.
All I can think is: WHAT ON EARTH DID I JUST READ?! A haunting yet gory book of grief, belonging, self-discovery, and love, She Isn’t Herself Tonight was quite the surreal fever-dream of a read. A genre-bending story that leaned just as hard into literary fiction as psychological horror, I was both creeped out and disturbed by the events in this novel. You see, from the supernatural ambiguity to the gruesome body horror, the last half of this book was oh so very strange. I can’t say much more without spoiling the plot, but just know it was a wildly fresh take on an alien-abduction story. After all, it was just as squirm-inducing as it was emotionally raw. Drenched in paranoia and a creeping sense of dread, the character work was strong from beginning to end. Then again, so was the majorly f***ed-up feel to it all.
What exactly do I mean, you might ask? Well, thanks to all of the eye-popping gore and the disturbing yet thought-provoking themes, all I could do was hold onto my hat as I flew through this read. Don’t get me wrong, if you’re going into this book looking for a straightforward tale of alien abduction or fast-paced thrills and chills, you’re going to walk away disappointed. With a slight character study-like feel and plenty of emotional depth, this 250-page novel was really all about the underlying message within our narrator’s journey. So if you love oddly twisted stories with Our Wives Under the Sea-meets-Play Nice-esque vibes, this one might be for you. Between the body transformation and the emotionally grounded storytelling, it was truly bizarre…but also one that I won’t be forgetting anytime soon. Rating of 3.25 stars.
Read if you’re a fan of: - Genre-bending novels - Literary fiction - Psychological horror - Gory body horror - Alien-abduction stories - Supernatural ambiguity - Emotional depth - LGBTQ+ representation - A sense of paranoia - Thought-provoking themes - Well-developed narrators - Truly bizarre reads - Books under 250 pages
SYNOPSIS:
When Rabbit was ten years old, she was abducted by aliens. Then, it happened again when she was twenty. Now thirty, she’s ready for their next visit. What she isn’t prepared for is her boyfriend callously ending their long-term relationship and ejecting her from their shared home.
As her birthday approaches, the aliens still haven’t arrived. Rabbit descends into a spiral of growing paranoia and bizarre bodily transformations, until soon it seems that even her reflection has a mind of its own. With her only refuge being the chaos of strangers who might not have her best interests at heart, Rabbit worries that her ex’s abandonment not only severed her from his life, but also from her own. Struggling to orient herself within a world growing more topsy-turvy by the day, Rabbit must regain control before her aliens at last return.
Thank you Hailey Piper and Saga Press for my complimentary copy. All opinions are my own.
PUB DATE: October 27, 2026
Content warning: stalking, sexual content, drug use, toxic relationship, hit-and-run car accident, death, grief, suicidal ideation, gore, blood, body horror, mental illness mention of: abandonment, child abuse, self harm, forced institutionalization
Respectfully, WTF did I just read? That was a real weird ride. Fever dreamy and crazy. But also about wanting so badly to be loved. There is grief and desire and lots and lots of body horror.
Honestly, I don't even know if I understood what happened. I feel like I was high and just going along with it wherever it ended up taking me. And honestly, I had no idea at any time where it was gonna drop me off. If you like body transformations and trippy books, read this.
Thank you to NetGalley and Saga Press for the ARC, all opinions are my own.
Aliens are my top fear but alien abduction horror is surprisingly difficult to find, so I was really excited when I saw this book. It wasn't what I was expecting, but it was definitely an unusual read that kept me hooked. Piper's writing is gorgeous, and she nailed creating an unsettling atmosphere where all the characters feel a little off. If you like weird girl books, you'd probably enjoy this one. However, I could see this being a triggering read if you're feeling depressed. There is a lot of self-loathing and more, so if you're in a similar headspace, you might want to hold off on reading.
In She Isn’t Herself Tonight by Hailey Piper, Rabbit was abducted by aliens when she was ten. Brittany‘s father died when she was ten and she hid in the woods. Rabbit was abducted again at twenty. When she was twenty, Brittany‘s best friends died unexpectedly while walking home from the pub. When Rabbit looks into the mirror, it’s Brittany that looks back at her. This book is a bit of a fever dream because the reader never knows what’s really happening and I believe that Rabbit doesn’t know what’s happening either. I felt bad for Rabbit and wished that Brittany would get out of the mirror. My mind is a bit twisted after finishing this one. ARC was provided by Saga Press via NetGalley. I received an advance reading copy for free and I am leaving this feedback voluntarily.
Three Words That Describe This Book: psychological horror, body horror, heartbreakingly beautiful
This book is emotionally intense, immersive, psychologically difficult and yet, it is a swift compelling read. The prose and the introduction of our Female MC Rabbit flows effortlessly (I mean I know it takes effort to make it look effortless, but still....). I started reading this book and looked up for the first time and I was over 80 pages in.
Excellent character development here as well. Readers feel like they know Rabbit, are emotionally invested in her, even when she is breaking into her ex's townhouse multiple times.
Let's back up a bit....
Rabbit is a nickname and the preferred name for a 30 year old woman born Brittany. The entire story is told from her POV. Readers are told from the start by her that she was abducted by aliens on the night her dad left their family when she was 10 and again when she was 20 (details on that one come later). She is now 30, only 2 1/2 weeks from turning 31 and is waiting for the aliens to come again.
Her 3 yr live-in boyfriend has just broken up with her saying she is too much work and not normal enough. She is struggling with being thrown out of her home, wondering how she could have loved him more and been better for him, and also really upset about why the aliens are not coming for her.
Was she abducted by aliens? maybe. Do we as readers believe her versions-- mostly yes because she is very honest with us. Do we believe she believes-- yes and that is what matters.
On top of the alien stuff, Rabbit is fighting with her reflection-- Brittany. Actively. And again, readers believe that she believes this is really happening, that they are separating into two different humans. We believe her selfie enough that it does not stop the pacing, we keep going. We are hooked.
And Rabbit's body is actively morphing into something else. It starts with bumps on her head and progresses. Here's the thing about that though-- others notice. The bumps are not her imagination, her sudden growth spurt is noticed by others, and the growth of her feet and fine white body hair is NOT her imagination.
This part is why the story is so immersive. Your typical psychological horror keeps readers at a distance. We know not to turkey the unreliable psychologically unravelling MC but here that is not what is happening. Piper draws readers in, she gives us plenty of reason to trust Rabbit.
And as the story spins out of control and gets more and more unmoving, as things happen which cannot possibly be, well, the characters around Rabbit reinforce a what Rabbit is telling readers as well. That was very cool.
And wow! The ending is great. A top notch example of psychological horror.
A great readalike for Kiss Slay Replay by Rachel Harrison (upcoming) because both active investigate a female MC who has been told she was too much, who gives her love to someone who doesn't derive it, and who has to fight to find and accept herself.
The intense psychological horror with body horror here is reminiscent of the underrated The Unsuitable by Molly Pohlig.
And this is definitely a great choice for fans of Paul Tremblay who like how he leaves the underlying cause of the horror up to the reader-- All in their head or supernatural
Also fans of The Haunting of Velkwood by Gwendolyn Kiste as well.
Brittany, who prefers to be known as Rabbit, the nickname she was taunted with as a child, has been dumped by her boyfriend and put out of her home. Friendless and alone, she rents a room from a couple she barely knows.
In between stalking her ex and watching him walk the dog that she used to think of as hers, she waits with increasing anxiety for the aliens to come and take her. The anxiety is not fear that they will come; it is fear that they no longer want her. They came for her when she was 10 years old, and again when she was 20. It's nearly her 31st birthday, and she is still waiting. Have they abandoned her too? Rabbit feels no acceptance from anyone, including herself. Even her own reflection in the mirror hates her.
I wasn't sure what to expect from this book. This was my first read by Hailey Piper. Are they all this surreal and poignant? This is a story of trauma, body horror, and a desperation for love in a time of profound loneliness. I flew through this mind-blowing, genre-bending read with a mix of dread and hope for how it would end for Rabbit.
She Isn’t Herself Tonight by Hailey Piper. Thanks to the author for the gifted signed Arc ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Rabbit was abducted by aliens when she was ten years old and again at twenty. Now, she’s thirty and anxiously awaits their visit. She wasn’t expecting her boyfriend to break up with her. When the aliens still haven’t come, and her 21st bit fast approaches, she begins to spiral.
Hailey Piper always writes such humanistic horror. This story more about emotion, longing, and mental health .. but that in itself adds a terrifying reaction as a reader. It’s hard to read because Rabbit’s desire is so raw and she’s so real. It’s easy to root for her. It reads like a fever dream at times, and definitely drags the reader deep in.
“Maybe, no matter what she does, there continues to be something broken and wrong with her. Perhaps there always will be.”
Read if you like: -Alien abductions -Mental health tropes -Body horror -Psychological horror
I think this was a great example of how you can mix horror and real-life situations so well, either using the horror to be there metaphorically or as a literal representation. My heart truly broke for our FMC, Rabbit. Her inner thoughts, abandonment wounds, mental health, fears, and self-hatred were so vulnerable and relatable. I love how Piper uses this deep sadness of Rabbits mind and mixed it with the extraterrestrial and body horror elements, like how her self-hatred ran so deep her identity split within the mirrors, or feeling so alienated by others she starts literally morphing into one.
Overall, the story was gripping, the meaning behind it felt deep, the horror was eerie, the characters all felt fully explored (even within a 220 page book!), and the writing was great - highly recommend for lovers of literary horror or alien stuff. ☝🏻🙂↕️
Thank you Saga Press Books for the gifted copy of She Isn't Herself Tonight.
release date: October 27th
I liked the idea of the book. Rabbit is abducted by aliens at 10 years old, and then again at 20, but when her 30th birthday passes and her 31st is quickly approaching, she's wondering why her Guests have not taken her yet. During a month or two period, her boyfriend of three years breaks up with Rabbit for 'being too much'. Too much work, too much effort. The thoughts of being good enough float around and the spiral goes down, down, down...
This was... this was a smidge too strange for me. I think the point of the story went a little over my head until the end. It's a bit of a psychological and speculative book that focuses on human emotions and actions during grief. The author uses Rabbit's delusions of aliens to describe a fractured mind.
I don't think She Isn't Herself Tonight is for everyone. Unfortunately, it wasn't for me as much as I wanted it to be.
I would compare this to Fight Club. When Rabbit is talking to herself and fighting with herself, it reminds me so much of Tyler Durden. I did like those moments because I do feel like they were truly relatable and realistic of how we go about perception of ourselves.
I won this book in a giveaway hosted by Saga Press - all opinions are my own.
She Isn’t Herself Tonight is an unsettling look at what it means to be a flawed human.
We follow Rabbit, a 30-year-old woman who desperately hopes aliens will abduct her for a third time after previous (gentle) encounters at ages ten and twenty. As her thirty-first birthday approaches on the heels of a painful breakup, she worries her extraterrestrial saviors might not return, causing her grip on reality to slip as she tries to prove she is worth saving.
This was a really fun and surreal time. At no point did I know where the story was going and I found it immensely satisfying to just let go and watch Rabbit’s tale unfold. She was a strange, though deeply sympathetic character. Her oddness is what makes her endearing so watching her suffer this internal endeavor of wanting to be “normal” in order to appease her friends and family is painful. No, Rabbit. Stay weird!
The fracture of self Rabbit experiences is explored very well, though I won’t elaborate on the mechanics in order to avoid spoilers. Rabbit’s transformation, both internal and external, is both gratifying and relatable. We’ve all had to grapple with who we are vs who we want to be and heartbreak is often the catalysis to this identity crisis. Rabbit struggles with everyone seemingly loving her “easy” side but fleeing when her true self shows. She’s shoved herself down for so long that she must be reborn as something wholly new.
Overall, this was an extraterrestrial TRIP with explorations of grief, heartbreak, and humanity. Fans of Hailey Piper’s other works are sure to enjoy this one! I recommend for fans of literary horror, extraterrestrials, and themes of identity/“otherness”.
Whenever I pick up a Hailey Piper book, I know I'm in for a weird ride, and She Isn't Herself Tonight was just that. This felt like some bizarre amalgamation of Beautyland and Bunny, wrapped in a weird girl lit fic fever dream that had me questioning what the hell I was reading for a good portion of the book.
I'll admit, I was pretty confused at first. Piper throws you into the strangeness and lets you find your footing as you go, and I wasn't entirely sure where any of it was heading. But I settled in, embraced the madness, and HOLY HELL, THAT ENDING.
This book is absolutely batshit crazy, and I mean that as the highest compliment. It's weird, it's unsettling, and it takes some genuinely unexpected turns. Best of all, unlike some fever dream stories that leave me wondering what the point was, this one actually delivers on its buildup. The payoff made all that initial confusion worthwhile.
Hailey Piper remains an author I can count on to take me somewhere strange. I may not always know what's happening along the way, but I'm certainly not going to forget the ride.
Many thanks to NetGalley, Hailey Piper, and Saga Press for the ARC. All opinions are my own.
Apparently “Too Much Work” Was a Body-Horror Prophecy Hailey Piper’s “She Isn’t Herself Tonight” lets one terrible breakup line mutate into fur, mirrors, aliens, domestic revenge, and a much stranger question about whether anybody should have to become easier to deserve being kept. By Demetris Papadimitropoulos | October 6th, 2026
Desire is the first alien technology in Hailey Piper’s “She Isn’t Herself Tonight.” Long before Rabbit grows white fur, sharp teeth, antennae, or enough height to make a staircase tremble, she learns that being frighteningly wanted can feel safer than being safely unwanted. At ten, after her father has vanished from her life, luminous beings cut and examine her, yet the thought that steadies her is almost painfully small: “But at least they want her.” The grammar does something sly. First the Guests want her not to be afraid; then, with the object shifted, they simply want her. Violation and comfort occupy the same verb. Rabbit will spend most of her life chasing the second meaning.
Even as aliens, the Guests are oddly secondary to what their attention does for her. Rabbit, born Brittany Smith but fiercely attached to the name Rabbit, was taken at ten and twenty and expects another encounter as thirty slides toward thirty-one. Instead Leo ends their three-year relationship, tells her she is “too much work,” and leaves her outside the house, dog, routines, and usefulness around which she built an adult life. Then her body starts changing. Her reflection Brittany stops behaving like one. Tyler, a new friend, offers attention without rescue. Rabbit waits for the sky to light up while trying to decide whether she is heartbroken, medicated, mad, becoming extraterrestrial, or merely discovering that human life has become the least convincing explanation for herself.
Most of Rabbit’s trouble begins when somebody else decides what her experience is allowed to mean. Her mother Nora accepts the first abduction only after converting aliens into angels, alien technology into heaven, and a private terror into public testimony. Soon Rabbit is being driven through Midwestern church parking lots to perform a cleaned-up miracle for congregations. Years later, when the second encounter includes sex, Nora’s tolerance snaps: men or women are one thing, but Rabbit must not “taint” the angels. That distinction is nastier than simple disbelief. Nora is willing to believe her daughter so long as she gets custody of the meaning.
Each institution finds its own Brittany. The churches need a child visionary. Leo needs a woman whose strangeness can remain charming until it becomes inconvenient. A doctor prescribes Jubilicor without giving Rabbit much idea what it is meant to fix, and the pharmacy label supplies a joke so small Piper almost lets it slip past: the patient is “brittany smith,” the address still Leo’s. Wrong name, wrong home, corrective medicine. Even the drug’s cheery promise to help its user “take control” lands crookedly in a scene where control is exactly what Rabbit cannot locate. Brittany then begins taking the pills inside the mirror before she has become physically separate from Rabbit. It is hard to imagine a neater miniature of the book’s problem than a treatment addressed to a person Rabbit no longer believes she is, at a house where she no longer lives.
The title arrives with considerably less ceremony. At an art gallery Rabbit tells Tyler she is distracted by her reflection because “She isn’t herself tonight.” Tyler laughs: “When is anyone?” For a moment it is only good banter. Then Brittany begins moving out of sync; then she acquires a body; eventually she can sit on a couch with Molly and Quinn while Rabbit looks on. The pronoun “she” keeps losing its referent. By then “herself” sounds less like a destination than a claim someone has filed.
Rabbit notices almost nothing without explaining it. Close third person lets Piper make that habit part of the suspense. Rabbit sees, guesses, qualifies, jokes, circles back, invents another cause. Her perceptions are not necessarily false. Her explanations can be. That distinction matters because the book refuses the cheap mechanism in which an unstable protagonist merely misperceives an ordinary world until reality corrects her. Rabbit can accurately see something impossible and still misunderstand Tyler. She can be right about aliens and wrong about love. Accuracy in one register does not absolve her in another.
In the gallery bathroom, the book crosses its most important border almost quietly. Brittany has already been swallowing Jubilicor and behaving strangely, but Rabbit can still imagine stress, medication, or self-talk. Then Brittany slams her palm against the mirror while Rabbit’s hand remains still. Sight alone might still be suspect in a reflective surface, especially to someone already trained to doubt herself. Piper adds sound. Rabbit hears the strike against the glass. That second sense matters: the problem has escaped the image. A visual anomaly might still belong to Rabbit’s mind; an impact with a noise recruits the room. What had looked like an externalized inner critic has begun pressing against an actual boundary, and the mirror is no longer safely metaphorical.
Places and surfaces keep changing allegiance after that. Darkness starts as the childhood territory of abduction, then becomes the condition in which Rabbit hopes the Guests will return, then a refuge from mirrors, then something she actively seeks. Light begins as porch safety and becomes alien intrusion, religious radiance, fluorescent scrutiny, and finally transport. Houses are no steadier. Leo owns one, but Rabbit insists she made it a home. Her replacement apartment shelters her without absorbing her. The Tragedy offers erotic possibility until its mirrors multiply everybody in the room. Even Pensacola Bridge, a literal in-between place, becomes the geography Rabbit chooses when she cannot decide whether she is waiting to be rescued, transformed, or disproved. Piper does not simply repeat these images. She lets Rabbit outgrow their first meanings.
A sentence from Leo supplies the most brutal example. “Too much work” begins as breakup language, the sort of phrase capable of reducing years of domestic life to an unfavorable performance review. Later Rabbit imagines the Guests deciding she is not worth the trouble either. Then the body answers. Fingers split. Flesh opens. White fur pushes through. She has spent years trying to take up less emotional space, and now she is becoming physically impossible to contain. The joke is cruel enough to be funny: Rabbit’s body has apparently decided to litigate the charge of being too much by becoming much, much more.
Piper sometimes cannot resist explaining a metaphor after the metaphor has already won. Rabbit writes down the possibility that Leo made being human hurt so badly that her body is changing out of humanity. Of course she might think exactly that. The trouble is literary rather than psychological: the sentence interprets a transformation whose fur, growth, pain, and timing have already made the argument. Brittany occasionally has the same problem, becoming the character who voices what the reader has just learned to see. The book’s weakest passages are not obscure. They are over-captioned.
Against that tendency, Brittany herself remains wonderfully unruly. She begins as the reflection who knows what Rabbit should have said, worn, wanted, or swallowed. She becomes independently medicated, then independently moving, then simply independent. Her cruel advice that Rabbit should stop trying to become “less work” would sound like self-help boilerplate from almost anyone else. From Brittany it arrives as insult, diagnosis, and reluctant gift. Later she joins Molly and Quinn on the couch with an ease Rabbit has never managed. Here, apparently, is the normal woman Rabbit kept failing to become. Rabbit watches and discovers she no longer particularly cares.
Domestic labor gives Leo’s insult its real cruelty. Rabbit cooked, cleaned, remembered, organized, handled his taxes, cared for Hammer, checked the locks, found the keys, made the house run. Leo experienced the result as ordinary life. When he calls her too much work, he is not merely rejecting her neediness; he is erasing the work by which she tried to become useful enough to keep. Their final argument strips that arrangement to one sentence: “No. I was useful. That isn’t love.” Rabbit mistook being needed for being cherished. Leo mistook being cared for for weather.
Interpretive violence does not belong only to Nora, Leo, doctors, or churches. Near the end Rabbit finally notices how many convenient people she has manufactured in her own head: a father who did not leave, friends who kept living, a Tyler who feels exactly her desperation, an Arthur who chooses her, a Leo who loves her, a version of herself capable of taking whatever she wants. That recognition saves the novel from the simpler story in which an authentic woman finally escapes everybody else’s definitions. It also turns the book’s method back on its heroine: pattern recognition can be survival, but it can also become a way of forcing other lives to complete one’s own design. Rabbit has been rewriting people too. Misrecognition is not a monopoly held by villains.
Most importantly, Tyler can understand Rabbit without claiming her. When Rabbit lunges for a kiss during an emotional collapse, Tyler turns her cheek. She likes Rabbit. She respects her. She can also see that Rabbit is not okay enough for the encounter Rabbit is trying to force into meaning. Then Tyler reveals that Jodie, the woman she loved, died. Nothing supernatural occurs in the scene, which may be why it matters so much. Tyler’s refusal is not abandonment. It is evidence that another person can desire Rabbit and still retain a border.
If Tyler makes ordinary human limits look less hostile, the Guests become harder to romanticize. During Rabbit’s second encounter, they tell her that choice is largely an illusion, every decision already shaped by everything that came before. They examine her, alter her, penetrate her, reassure her; she experiences their presence as the safest she has ever felt. Their moral vocabulary is not ours. That difference is part of the attraction. With them, Rabbit does not have to negotiate every desire through someone else’s competing will, or wonder whether need has become inconvenience. Yet a relationship without friction may owe its smoothness to the disappearance of ordinary reciprocity. They are not Tyler with better lighting.
The countdown initially disguises how strange that attraction will become. Rabbit thinks she understands the pattern: ten, twenty, thirty. The approaching birthday lends the plot a deadline and gives Rabbit a theory she can keep testing against the sky. That habit is everywhere: the “Strange Outsiders” quiz, the medical intake form, Jubilicor’s instructions, Rabbit’s handwritten list of possible causes. She keeps trying to turn uncertainty into a checklist. Only near the end does another sequence emerge. Her father died around the first encounter. Her friends died around the second. Death is the missing term. Rabbit notices it while Tyler sleeps nearby, touches Tyler’s neck, and briefly considers what completing the pattern could require. Then the front door opens. Leo is home. Structure becomes temptation.
Reality finally sides with Rabbit on the question everyone has used to discredit her: the aliens exist. Brittany exists independently. Tyler eventually sees the impossible. But Piper wisely stops short of converting supernatural proof into moral certification. Leo claims Rabbit’s earlier abductions were psychiatric hospitalizations after self-harm and that the scars she calls implant sites were self-inflicted. His account cannot explain what finally happens, yet it does force Rabbit and the reader to reconsider how eagerly one true impossible thing can become a license for every other belief. The book’s strongest epistemic distinction is therefore also its least consoling: a person can deserve to be heard without becoming infallible. She is right about the Guests. She has still stalked Leo, trespassed, projected onto Tyler, and nearly treated another person’s death as the missing component in her private cosmology.
One continuity in Piper’s work helps clarify why the body becomes the battleground. In a 2024 interview with Oliver Lindblom for “Publishers Weekly,” she discussed horror as a form capable of expressing estrangement from one’s body and the hope of reclaiming it. “She Isn’t Herself Tonight” makes reclamation stranger than restoration. Rabbit does not get her proper body back. She abandons the assumption that recognizably human is what “proper” must mean. Fur, height, antennae, sharpness: the features she initially hides become less embarrassing as the category that called them defects loses authority.
Part of the final act, however, makes its own moral task easier than it should. Early Leo can be selfish, unimaginative, and cruel while still having every right to end the relationship. Rabbit watches his house, enters it, follows his new girlfriend, refuses the boundary of the breakup. That mess is interesting because no allocation of sympathy solves it. Later the scale gets weighted more heavily: Hammer disappears without Rabbit getting a goodbye; Leo refuses her chosen name; he weaponizes psychiatric history; he insists on his own goodness; then, drunk and newly rejected by Carrie, he floats reconciliation. None of this is impossible. Together it starts preparing Leo for disposal. The closer Rabbit gets to killing him, the more the novel helps us resent him, reducing the resistance the murder ought to meet.
On the staircase, some of that discomfort returns. Leo asks Rabbit to come down. She asks why he will not come up, why he will not “make the effort.” It is a vicious little domestic joke after years in which she made almost every effort for both of them. Then she descends anyway. Piper isolates the sound: “Thump.” Another step. “Thump.” Rabbit, who has spent the novel explaining everything, briefly becomes only impact, weight, movement through a house she says she made into a home. When she finally pins Leo beneath one enormous foot and demands the love she poured into him back, the metaphor is no longer figurative enough to protect anybody.
Underneath the revenge fantasy is a much less cooperative feeling. Leo dies, and Rabbit expects the ache to go with him. Instead she kneels beside the body, gathers him up, cries into his blood, kisses him, and admits she would still have given him everything. The scene slows after the killing: his strange weight, his damp face, her trembling arms, the practical knowledge that soon she will have to remember him rather than look at him. Love is not reclaimed like stolen property. Murder cannot reverse the years spent giving it. That refusal of catharsis is what keeps the ending from becoming merely a monstrous empowerment scene.
Love in this novel keeps running into the fact that another person has edges. Nora loves Rabbit and rewrites her. Leo may once have loved her and still experienced her as labor. Rabbit loves Leo and crushes him. Tyler likes Rabbit enough to tell her no. The Guests welcome Rabbit in a way that seems to contain no comparable friction at all. That sounds like paradise if every limit has begun to resemble abandonment. It may also be the fantasy of intimacy without another independent will in the room. The question is not whether Rabbit deserves welcome. She does. It is whether welcome without resistance can ever test the difference between being known and being absorbed. Piper never quite settles that difference, and she is better for leaving it unsettled.
Of the books near Piper’s territory, Julia Armfield’s “Our Wives Under the Sea” turns queer bodily change toward elegy; “She Isn’t Herself Tonight” is hungrier, stranger, more comic about appetite and flesh. Chana Porter’s “The Seep” is closer to its conceptual nerve because alien contact there also scrambles grief, identity, and what becoming something else might solve. Piper’s gamble is to let the wished-for extraterrestrial belonging actually arrive. No late therapeutic correction informs Rabbit that she needed to choose humanity all along. The sky answers. It just answers after a killing.
So I return to Rabbit becoming too large for the house in which she learned to be useful. “She Isn’t Herself Tonight” earns an 88/100 and 4/5 stars from me: a high four-star novel whose structural patterning, Brittany design, emotional nerve, and refusal of restorative normality outweigh its occasional over-explanation and its late simplification of Leo. At the end the Guests welcome, accept, cherish, and love Rabbit. Tyler remains below. Leo remains dead. The house that once proved adulthood and partnership can no longer contain the woman who made it livable. The triumph is real. So is the body downstairs. Rabbit rises anyway, enormous and unfinished, toward a light that finally recognizes her without first demanding that she become easier to explain.
She Isn't Herself Tonight 🛸✨Review ✨ thank you @sagapressbooks #sagasayscrew for the free copy!
She Isn't Herself Tonight by Hailey Piper out now!
From the Bram Stoker Award–winning author of Queen of Teeth and A Game in Yellow, a “blissfully twisted and genuinely heartfelt” (Rachel Harrison, New York Times bestselling author of Play Nice) literary horror novel following a young woman on the heels of a traumatic break-up as she anxiously awaits an impending alien abduction—perfect for readers of You Weren’t Meant to Be Humanand Our Wives Under the Sea.
📖 My thoughts:
What the hell did I just read?! This was such a unique, bizarre, and thought provoking story… and I honestly don’t think I could have predicted where it was going! It was a quick read, but not necessarily because it was fast paced. There was this constant pull that kept me turning the pages because I needed to know what was actually happening to Rabbit and where everything was leading. I went into this expecting an alien abduction story, but what I got was something so much stranger and more emotionally layered than I anticipated. Beneath all the weirdness, there’s a lot of emotional depth surrounding abandonment, identity, and what happens when you start to lose your sense of self. Rabbit’s experiences had me questioning what was real snd what was happening. I loved how unpredictable and unconventional this story was, and it definitely left me with plenty to think about after finishing. This isn’t your typical alien abduction read, so go in with an open mind and be prepared for a wild, unsettling ride.
A crazy psychological horror that feels like a surreal out of body experience that has almost a split personality vibe, with main character, Rabbit(aka, Brittany)-especially when she’s talking to her reflection!
It all starts with the night Rabbit’s father walks out on her and her mother, Nora. A rapid run into the woods to escape the mad rush of emotions and possibly quell the anxiety building up in her ten year old self. There’s disorientation, panic and a loss of time and direction as she tries to rush back to her well lit back porch.
Claiming alien abduction-which leaves Rabbit terrified at first, but then strangely comforted, because someone wanted her, throws everything she thought she knew up in the air, and became life altering in various ways.
There’s a lifetime of confusion, strange characters, bizarre body horror and so much more!
Quite an experienced reading!
Thanks to S&S/Saga Press for this other worldly read!
Rabbit was first taken by the "Guests" when she was 10, and again when she was 20, and now, as her 31st birthday approaches and they haven't yet made their third visit, an anxiety starts to creep through her: what if the aliens don't want her anymore? Compacted by a brutal breakup that she hasn't yet shared with her difficult mother, Rabbit spirals both inside and out. Her attempts to become someone different by getting tangled up in the sexy, alternative world of her new neighbor is matched by strange physical transformations and a trippy disjuncture between herself and her reflection.
For as lonely and horrifying as the narrative is, there's something raw and heartfelt about it as well. I was hooked from page one and devoured this and the whole thing felt like a vivid hallucination. The prose is beautiful and Rabbit is so believable and compelling. Really a fantastically bizarre little book.
This is a story you have to let go and see where the ride takes you. This strange fever dream of a story is all about feeling, emotions and even still then not quite sure, but I know what I felt while reading this story. Though this is a shorter novel it was not fast paced, it asks to slow down and be with Rabbit. I enjoyed it and will definitely add it to my re-read list.
Thank you NetGalley & Saga Press for the eARC in exchange for review!
I devoured this in 2 days and I genuinely am still struggling to wrap my head around what I read.
This has so many cool elements and honestly felt like a fever dream. It had body horror, it had a ton of psychological elements and I truly felt like I was clueless for a lot of it.
The ending wrapped it up some, but also I feel like I am left with so many questions! This is one I’ll be thinking about for some time.
Hailey Piper’s cosmic horror always has me feeling the big feelings. In She Isn’t Herself Tonight, we follow Rabbit as she navigates a breakup, the relationship with her mother, and her past alien abductions. Rabbit was a fascinating case study in the beauty, vulnerability, and horror of being human. As always, Piper gives us the best of queer horror- and this time we get a side of “good for her.”
A fun and relatively light read. I enjoyed the author's prose, but I wish that less details were explicitly spelled out for the reader. Much of the plot is foreshadowed at the beginning, but the payoff is unsatisfying and heavy-handed. I was really disappointed to see the analysis and interpretation explicitly spelled out, as if the reader was incapable of making those connections on their own.
I think that Piper is a very talented author, but her work would (ironically) benefit from more confidence in her ability to construct a story and leave details up to the reader's interpretation.
Obsessed, no notes, well some notes otherwise this would be a real short review, but I loved it.
Rabbit had a rough childhood, abducted by aliens is a lot to deal with but as a kid and then again later as an adult. I would be a absolute mess at that point. But she knows for some reason that they are coming for a third time and she's waiting.
It's a rough time, her long term bf dumped her and whole maybe she was extra, she never lied or hid it so eww on him.
Rabbit and Brittany are the same person, Brittany is the person she used to be before all the alien stuff, Rabbit is the person she became and is currently, but not the person she sees in her reflection...IFYKYK
Everything is chaos and you feel pulled between both and then everything actively going on as her life kind of falls apart and the one thing she knew or thought she knew, the aliens coming, seem to be maybe not showing up.
I loved this book, once again Hailey knocks it out of the park and I cannot wait to get a hardcopy of this for my Piper collection.
After having enjoyed ‘Benny Rose the Cannibal King’ I was excited to see what Piper would do with an alien story. ‘She Isn’t Herself Tonight’ did not disappoint in the slightest. I’ll go one further and say it was one of my favorite novels this year. Without too much synopsis or jacket copy, here’s what I felt—because yeah, stars or skulls or whatever rating system’s making the rounds doesn’t really say much. If a book’s good it’s because it made you feel something, put you in a different pair of shoes. And Rabbit/Brittney definitely wears some different shoes by the end of this one.
The epigraph says all you need to know, really: ‘For every girl full of love who poured it all into others before learning it will not be returned, and has spent her life since trying to feel full again.’ It’s an alien abduction story, sure, and a story about identity, rebirth, trauma, religion, and self-love, all through the lens of that epigraph, but mostly it’s about feeling like you’re too much, like ‘you don’t know,’ like you’re a one-way street or a doormat. All Rabbit wants is some reciprocity, to be loved for who she is, to be worth chasing and holding down and keeping forever. Great line here about it: ‘Sometimes she felt less like a person, with her own unique memories and impact on the world, and more like a human whiteboard on which other people wrote their desires, assumptions, and disdain.’ And that yearning for reciprocity leads Rabbit into some dark and compromising situations.
She was abducted by aliens at age ten. Again at twenty. But at thirty, with a birthday right around the corner, the Guests still haven’t come back to visit her. The opening chapter covers this pretty quick and puts a hook in you, pulling you through to the very end with some great prose and dialogue and introspection, sometimes breaking your heart, sometimes gritting your teeth, cringing at the desperation, but all the while you’re rooting for one of the saddest characters on Earth to shed her skin and fly into the light.
There’s Leo, Rabbit’s ex who just dumped her recently for being ‘too much work’ after she repeatedly told him the truth about her abductions. Line here: ‘Amazing how a man could be perfectly happy to clean his dog’s shit off the sidewalk but decide his girlfriend of three years was too much work.’ Tyler, the neighbor upstairs on the freaky fifth floor who builds contraptions for a low-key clientele, and who also sees and loves the real Rabbit: huge feet, white hair, buck teeth, antennae and all. Great line from Tyler here: ‘You got the look of somebody who’s been treated like a welcome mat by everybody who ever got to know you well enough to realize they could walk all over you. Well, you’re unlucky streak is over.’
Rabbit’s mother Nora is a constant here, too, gauging her daughter’s worth on how well she can keep a man, and keep up a story about angels she’s been telling for a very long time. Line here: ‘Being a daughter meant sometimes doing whatever might worry your mother most. Even if you never told her about it.'
And then there’s Brittney Smith, Rabbit’s reflection, the brutal truth-telling normie who decides she wants a life of her own. I won’t expand on Brittney, but there’s a chilling scene with her in a church. Line here: ‘There’s the woman in the world and the woman in the reflection.’
The pacing is pitch-perfect; I looked up and was half-way through in a flash. When you get to the ending, slow down a bit, take it all in, and get ready for some bittersweet scenes, all totally worth the read. I highly recommend this book, not only to genre readers but to everyone who believes that ‘to love is to leave a physical crater behind.’
The Strange Outsiders Magazine thing is great as well, and Tyler saying to Rabbit: 'You don’t want to throw pebbles at the window? Or pretend you’re pregnant?'
Thanks to NetGalley, Saga Press, and Hailey Piper for the story.
What the hell did I just read, in the most wonderful way possible. I knew what to expect from Hailey Piper, I guess I expected the unexpected, and that is what I got. with She Isn't Herself Tonight. A disturbing, haunting, and grief-filled psychological horror that has me glad Piper continues to write stories that makes me feel uncomfortable.
When Rabbit was ten years old, she was abducted by aliens. Then, it happened again when she was twenty. Now thirty, she’s ready for their next visit. What she isn’t prepared for is her boyfriend callously ending their long-term relationship and ejecting her from their shared home.
As her birthday approaches, the aliens still haven’t arrived. Rabbit descends into a spiral of growing paranoia and bizarre bodily transformations, until soon it seems that even her reflection has a mind of its own. With her only refuge being the chaos of strangers who might not have her best interests at heart, Rabbit worries that her ex’s abandonment not only severed her from his life, but also from her own. Struggling to orient herself within a world growing more topsy-turvy by the day, Rabbit must regain control before her aliens at last return.
Let's be honest, I should up to this party because it was hosted by the great Hailey Piper, but also because I feel its difficult sometimes to find good, fresh, and disturbing alien abduction horror. Not that I have been actively seeking out this unique sub-genre, but when I read the solicitation, I knew it was something I was eager to dive into.
Not one character in this book felt like the average human being, each one of them had the feeling something was off or that I wanted to deeply dislike them. This made for a reading experience unlike most as I wasn't really cheering for anyone, maybe outside of our protagonist. This made for an even more unsettling story that got under my skin and disturbed me in ways it's hard to explain.
This continuing struggle for Rabbit is emotionally intense which added even more depth to the story. She definitely has something going on and it is hard to tell whether she really was abducted or is just dealing with mental illness. Something that brings reality into the mix and makes you question the story as it moves along. She is eagerly awaiting her next experience and unravelling along the way.
As I get to the bottom of this, I realized I am finding it hard to explain my feelings for this book. It wonderful, and uncomfortable, and frightening, and eye-opening, and so much more. All I have to say is read it for yourself.
She Isn't Herself Tonight is a disturbing psychological horror filled with an emotional intensity and a search for belonging that will stick with you. Author Hailey Piper has a way of getting under your skin in many ways and I am here for every single moment, this story is no different.
She Isn't Herself Tonight hits bookstores everywhere on October 27, 2027 from Saga Press. The audiobook, narrated by Jenn Lee, is available via Libro.fm!
NOTE: We received an advance copy of She Isn't Herself Tonight from the publisher. Opinions are our own.
She Isn't Herself Tonight is an unexpected combination of A Good Person and The X-Files??
Rabbit (real name Brittany - love that for me) was abducted by aliens when she was 10. Her mother exploited that experience by traveling around the country and making her retell the story at churches, changing "aliens" to "angels." At the age of 20, she's abducted again, and as she's about to turn 31, she wonders if/when they'll come back again, since it seems there's a pattern. Those abductions changed her life, and she is eager to feel what she felt before with them. But as she tries to talk to her boyfriend Leo about it, he immediately dumps her, saying she's "too much work." Rabbit is devastated and as she waits for the aliens to come back, she's also dealing with heartbreak. She spends a lot of the novel trying to get Leo back while also navigating her newly single life. Weird things start happening to her, and her body starts to change. Time is running out, and she's worried she'll never feel a sense of belonging again.
This book made me feel so many things. Rabbit is such a precious human being, and I felt so bad for her for most of the novel because she just wants someone to want her and love her for who she is. There were points where Leo and her own mother would say things that make it seem like the abductions weren't exactly as Rabbit remembers, and that element was such an interesting touch. Regardless, I wanted to hug Rabbit so many times, and I wished she'd find her happiness - whatever that looked like.
I've read Hailey Piper's A Game in Yellow as well, and what I love about these two novels is that Piper focuses on people who just want to feel connection and satisfaction. Rabbit is one of my favorite characters of any book I've read this year because, as wild as her experiences are, she's so relatable. I'm so happy I got to read this book, and I will be thinking about it for a long time.
*Thanks to NetGalley, Saga Press, and Hailey Piper for this eARC. This review contains my honest, authentic thoughts and opinions.*
She Isn’t Herself Tonight by Hailey Piper is an emotional horror novel that is exceptionally crafted and devious. Hailey Piper is an author that I will read, no matter what. Her writing is strong, vivid, and just WEIRD (in the best ways). Rabbit was abducted by aliens when she was ten, abducted again at twenty, and expects it to happen again soon. However, Rabbit's boyfriend ends things and her life sort of goes up in smoke. She has a new apartment that she shares, her mother is a little overbearing, and new characters seem to be along for the ride of new mutations that are changing Rabbit's body. This story is strange. It is different. It is not going to be everyone's cup of tea, but I loved it. I loved how Piper takes the classic alien-abduction narrative and completely rearranges it into something that feels more like an existential crisis coated in cosmic horror and some truly fantastic body horror. There are some funny moments, some tender, and even some sexy moments that enters some BDSM realms.
This book is addicting. It suckers you in with feelings of yearning and extreme desires for normalcy. Rabbit isn't simply waiting for aliens. She's waiting to feel chosen again, especially after the person she built her life around has made her feel completely disposable. That connection between alien abduction and the major transitional points in Rabbit's life is genuinely fascinating, especially as her birthday approaches and she starts questioning who she even is without the people, relationships, and experiences that have defined her. There are moments that are squirmy and gross, moments that are deeply sad, and moments so wonderfully disastrous that I couldn't stop reading. Somehow Hailey Piper turns aliens, breakups, bodily transformation, and identity into something both completely unhinged and painfully human. She Isn’t Herself Tonight is strange, heartfelt, unsettling, and wonderfully queer, and honestly, that combination is Hailey Piper operating exactly in the space where I love her most.
Prior to this novel, I had only read A Game in Yellow by Hailey Piper. I requested this even though I didn’t much enjoy that one, because the description reeled me in. I am SO glad that I got to read this, because I enjoyed it through and through. To me, A Game in Yellow felt a bit aimless and difficult to follow. But, She Isn’t Herself Tonight had an incredibly cohesive story that held my attention the whole way through. I knew I was getting into something weird and a bit outlandish, but it was done so incredibly well.
It was so fascinating to read about Rabbit’s descent into madness as her life starts to fall apart near her 30th birthday. There was mystery and intrigue, because the entire time you’re wondering if Rabbit is a reliable narrator, if she is just a bit insane, or honestly, both. There were elements of body horror (relatively tame, if you ask me) and psychological horror. Through it all, Rabbit was mostly a compelling and relatable character, even if sometimes you might want to shake her and make her realize she’s not at all alone in her feelings.
This story delves into topics of belonging, being “othered”, learning oneself, and embracing all your quirks. It’s dark and messy and complicated, but such a great read. I absolutely recommend this novel to anyone who enjoys horror with character growth and psychological themes.
Thank you to Netgalley and Saga Press for the ARC in exchange for an honest review!
Hailey Piper is a popular name in the horror genre, but somehow I've yet to read any title before "She Isn't Herself Tonight." I found the writing to be more delicate and beautiful than I had anticipated. The sadness and beauty with which the nighttime is described, from the youth of a child to the confusion of a young adult maturing under the same night sky, was dreamy and tragic. I am curious to read more from Hailey Piper for comparison.
"She Isn't Herself Tonight" begins in the dark and it feels like we never really leave the dark. Being inside Rabbit's mind was, at times, devastating and charming within the same chapter. Rabbit yearns for her 10 year visitation from her 'Guests,' the alien entities which have visited her twice and are set for a third visit, if the pattern holds. Seeing her cling to the hope of their visit, while fearing it won't come, was heartbreaking. Rabbit is told that she is hard to love and she fears this to be the case, but I found myself wanting happiness for her, even with all the misguided mistakes she made.
Thank you to Hailey Piper for writing this beautifully dark novel. Thank you to Netgalley for a chance to read this eGalley before publication: Oct 27,2026. Thank you to Saga Press for letting me read this early copy in exchange for an honest review.
✦ Book Review: She Isn't Herself Tonight by Hailey Piper
✧ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴋ, @SagaPress
➊ 𝚂𝚈𝙽𝙾𝙿𝚂𝙸𝚂
Rabbit believes she was abducted by aliens when she was ten and again when she was twenty, so as her thirtieth birthday approaches, she expects them to return. But this time they don't. Instead, Rabbit finds her life unraveling as relationships fall apart, her body begins to change, and the woman staring back at her from the mirror may no longer be entirely herself.
➋ 𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚄𝙶𝙷𝚃𝚂
I thought this was good, but I had a hard time connecting with the main character, which kept me at a distance from much of the story. The alien-abduction premise and psychological horror initially caught my attention, but as the book went along, the focus seemed to lean much more heavily into mental health and contemporary social themes. There's nothing inherently wrong with that direction, but it wasn't the part of the story I found most interesting, and I would have preferred more emphasis on the strange and unsettling elements surrounding Rabbit.
The writing was good and there were some interesting ideas here, but without a strong connection to the main character, the story never completely pulled me in.
Rabbit is a fascinating character. You’re not entirely sure if she’s an unreliable narrator or not. She’s dealing with a recent and painful breakup that leaves her feeling misunderstood and alone in the world. Being in her head was an emotional experience. You’re just as confused as Rabbit is. Her journey throughout the book is about self love & discovery. I think the author did a really great job with that theme.
I was drawn to this book because of the alien abduction storyline and, ya know what, I felt it paid off! I was super intrigued by the possibility of aliens arriving for Rabbit a third time. The freaky body changes and Rabbit’s reflection having its own personality was creepy! So many things happened that kept me guessing. I felt the alien storyline worked here.
I also was a fan of the author’s writing. It flowed easily and kept me coming back for more. The emotional depth expressed in the pages was impressive. I was right in the trenches with Rabbit. Would definitely check out more of her work.
If you enjoy weird girl books, I would totally recommend this one!