Small Press


Dracula
Black Cloud
In the Dream House
Event Factory (Ravicka, #1)
Binary Star
Mira Corpora
Bluets
Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead
A Ghost in the Throat
Winter in Sokcho
The Sarah Book
A Safe Girl to Love: Stories
Crapalachia: A Biography of a Place
Billie the Bull
Threats
The Son's Shadow by Ben John SmithThose Born In Darkness Never Seek The Light by Philip LoPrestiWhen Blood Meets Earth by E.A. NobleSupersized Bubblegum by E.A. NobleThe Things We Bury by Philip LoPresti
Favorite Reads from Indie Authors
17 books — 3 voters
The Revenant of Surolifia by Florence ChienOur Rogue Fates by Sarah Glenn MarshAll the Scattered Stars by Via LuinoWe, the Missing by Arwyn ShermanChild of the Dragon by Ashley N.Y. Sheesley
2026 Small Press Debut Books
27 books — 31 voters

Fist of the Spider Woman by Amber DawnEven This Page Is White by Vivek ShrayaLost Boi by Sassafras PatterdaleDirty River by Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samara...How Poetry Saved My Life by Amber Dawn
Arsenal Pulp Press
187 books — 17 voters

Diary of a Dieting Madhouse by Paige SingletonFound Money by Peter Watson JenkinsAtlas by Benjamin R.  SmithEscape to Danger by Peter Watson JenkinsSo Say the Waiters book 1 by Justin Sirois
unknown books that could be great films
407 books — 589 voters
Una historia de ayer by Sergio CoboA Shade of Vampire by Bella ForrestThe Wronged Sons by John MarrsIsle of Winds by James FahyDrowned Tomb by James Fahy
Best of Little-Known Authors
7,074 books — 5,141 voters

Jeff Phillips
Their conversation ceased abruptly with the entry of an oddly-shaped man whose body resembled a certain vegetable. He was a thickset fellow with calloused and jaundiced skin and a patch of brown hair, a frizzy upheaval. We will call him Bell Pepper. Bell Pepper sidled up beside The Drippy Man and looked at the grilled cheese in his hand. The Drippy Man, a bit uncomfortable at the heaviness of the gaze, politely apologized and asked Bell Pepper if he would like one. “Why is one of your legs fa ...more
Jeff Phillips, Turban Tan

Charlotte Eriksson
I am running and singing and when it’s raining I’m the only one left on the open street, smiling with my eyes fixed on the sky because it’s cleaning me. I’m the one on the other side of the party, hearing laughter and the emptying of bottles while I peacefully make my way to the river, a lonely road, following the smell of the ocean. I’m the one waking up at 4am to witness the sunrise, where the sky touches the sea, and I hold my elbows, grasping tight to whatever I’ve made of myself.
Charlotte Eriksson, Another Vagabond Lost To Love: Berlin Stories on Leaving & Arriving

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