Novelist Moreno (This Thing Between Us) and artist Rebelka (Cyborg 2077) summon fresh horror from the familiar premise of clergy teaming up to exorcise a possessed child. Father Manuel Barrera, a troubled Mexican priest, is dispatched to study under Father Stygian, who specializes in obscure esoteric rites. “To be an exorcist, you need to let go of your past,” Father Stygian warns. “Otherwise it can be used against you.” Sure enough, the duo’s efforts to free a possessed boy in a rural island community appear to be thwarted by the spirit of Father Varden, Stygian’s previous apprentice, who died by suicide. Meanwhile, monstrous animal births and sightings of the undead suggest there’s more than one rogue demon haunting the island. Rebelka’s roughly blocked, subtly distorted art, with hints of woodcut prints and Latin American folk art, evokes an unbalanced feeling to the setting, as the characters tour through foreboding dusty towns, stark ranches, rain-soaked forests, and gloomy cemeteries. The story takes a while to kick into gear and ends abruptly, but there are plenty of chills and some effective twists along the way. Supernatural horror fans will enjoy the ride. (Jan.)

Reviewed on 01/16/2026 | Details & Permalink

Ozanam and Carrion (Temudjin) concoct a brutal yet beautiful medieval fantasy that reads like Prince Valiant scripted by George R.R. Martin. When the teenaged prince of the Kingdom of Etelkoz goes missing and is presumed to have been eaten by a monster called the Nameless One, the sickly, bedridden king orders representatives from the six ruling clans to hunt the beast down. These delegates reveal they’re secretly happy to see the prince eliminated, as they each have claims to the throne. “Alas, only one of us will sit upon it,” observes Lady Megyer. Count Atras stays out of the action as the rest set out across the kingdom; the true scope of his agenda unfolds as the prince’s fate is revealed. Carrion’s classically illustrative fantasy art is naturalistic but full of singular touches, enlivening a tale of intrigue, power, and literal backstabbing. He draws squadrons of distinctive figures against epic backdrops: a towering waterfall, a mist-draped circle of standing stones, a hidden forest village. Color is skillfully deployed to set moods: blue-green gloomy nights, sun-bleached battlefields, the blazingly warm interior of a tent. At first, it’s hard to keep track of the many characters, but as the action heats up and the body count rises, the battle grows personal. Fans of artsy Euro-comics going through House of the Dragon withdrawal can get their fix here. (Jan.)

Reviewed on 01/16/2026 | Details & Permalink

Three queer 20-somethings from “Squarebanks,” Alaska, push each other to find their respective paths—to love, work, and an authentic identity—in this clever graphic novel from Bongiovanni (Mimosa). Laura, an ironically self-proclaimed “gay icon,” vlogs as a #lesbianwarrior. That brand begins to feel confining, however, when Laura develops crushes on men, then starts thinking about becoming one. Rachel has been Laura’s rock since high school, but now she wonders if her dull job at a tour company—not to mention Laura’s self-centeredness—could be holding her back. Court, a trans man and transplant to New York, returns to town to help his emotionally manipulative mom. He encourages his old besties to take stock of their lives. For Laura, this means googling “lesbians who are into men NOT porn,” trying out the name Leo, going on a Grindr-style app, and fumbling through awkward hookups. For Rachel, it means emerging from Laura/Leo’s shadow and starting her own business. Bongiovanni’s loose, confident linework and ensemble of sassy characters make for plenty of affectionate riffs. On-point details of queer life in a small tourist town (Leo works for a combination bird observatory and gift shop) are a fun bonus. This lighthearted but sincere riff on the queer Gen Z zeitgeist hits its mark. (Jan.)

Reviewed on 01/16/2026 | Details & Permalink

In her accessible and endearing first full-length graphic memoir, web cartoonist Correll (A Pug’s Guide to Life) cannily employs her trademark frank humor to discuss living with anxiety and depression. The narrative opens with Gemma undergoing an attack of “the bad feeling” so intense she checks herself into a hospital. She visits the psych ward for group therapy, prompting flashbacks that recount her lifelong struggles. “Little sparks followed me everywhere, ready to ignite at the first sign of potential danger,” she recalls. At one point, she develops such severe claustrophobia she’s unable to put on turtleneck sweaters; there are also periods of dissociation, which “would be kind of cool if it wasn’t so utterly terrifying.” As anxiety begins to limit her adult life, including her dream of moving from England to the United States, she becomes determined to expand her comfort zone. Correll’s cute, chunky art, simple but bursting with personality, lends a sweetness to the hard times, and her narration is peppered with witty asides: “Why is everyone telling me to drink tea? Is it just because I’m British?” In a running visual joke, “Anxietyland” is depicted as a carnival with attractions like the “Control Freak Show” and “House of No Fun.” It’s one of the funniest and warmest mental health memoirs to come along in a while. Agent: Monika Verma, LGR Literary. (Apr.)

Reviewed on 01/16/2026 | Details & Permalink

Shimizu (Qwan) stitches body horror into the aesthetics of traditional Japanese ghost stories in this gleefully gruesome chiller. In a forgotten Japanese village hidden in the mountains, Lady Kamiya and her beautiful, strangely scarred daughter Kiriko rule over deformed villagers who worship Kiriko for her healing powers. Outsiders who wander into the village soon find themselves absorbed into its weird rituals—and cannibalized for parts: “Will you become one of us?” Lady Kamiya asks. “Or will you become part of us?” The loosely connected early chapters, in which unfortunate victims keep stumbling into the village, give way to a larger story arc when Minato, a neurotic young man, is kidnapped to become Kiriko’s husband, a process no one has survived intact thus far. He sets out to uncover her secrets and discovers that they share scars—literal, in her case—from abusive, controlling parents. Shimizu’s delicate, fine-lined art is somewhat generic to the genre but effectively lends eerie elegance to dismembered bodies, sewn-up monsters, killer cultists, and creepy poppets (the ceremonial dolls displayed during the Japanese holiday of Hinamatsuri provide a running motif). Despite its uneven seams, this patchwork is suitably unsettling for manga horror fans. (Jan.)

Reviewed on 01/09/2026 | Details & Permalink

The poetic debut from European cartoonists Di Virgilio and Santoni, which tracks the events leading to the creation of Frankenstein, drips in gothic romance, but is light on historical substance. The child of progressive reformers, Mary Shelley is raised by her intellectually demanding father after her mother, feminist activist Mary Wollstonecraft, dies giving birth to her. Though isolated by her father’s strict home education, Shelley connects with her stepsister Claire and lively friend Eleanor Baxter and discovers her love of writing. In her teens, she elopes with Percy Shelley, would-be poet and black sheep of his upper-crust family, who inconveniently happens to already be married. During a house party in Geneva, Percy’s bad-boy buddy Lord Byron suggests the guests each write a horror story, famously inspiring Mary to create Frankenstein. The stormy art is sketched in stark black-and-white with splashes of blood red. Unfortunately, the story only recounts Mary Shelley’s development to age 18, when she began her famed monster tale (she wrote a number of other books and died at 53, long outliving Percy). Though it’s a stylish introduction to the writer, devoted Shelley fans may be left wanting. (Jan.)

Reviewed on 01/09/2026 | Details & Permalink

Zong puts a sapphic twist on “Little Red Riding Hood” in her vibrant debut. In a desolate world in which most of humanity has died of plague, Red hunts down “vengeful souls” called nawa. Her Grand Mother exorcises these restless spirits caught in animal forms in sacrificial rituals, attempting to cleanse the world. When Red rescues an aloof wolf-human hybrid named Sil from a bear trap, she’s unsure if the creature is a nawa. Nursed back to health in Red’s cabin, Sil calls herself a “chimera” or a shepherd. As the two warm to each other, Red makes several shocking discoveries: Sil abandoned her post as a Guardian Beast, celestial deities roam the world, and her power-hungry Grand Mother is up to something nefarious. Recruiting a cast of deities, Red and Sil set out to defeat Grand Mother. There are a few clunky transitions but overall, the story elements are handily pulled together and elevated by the dynamic art. Red’s delight at discovering the myriad ethereal animal guardians and the tenderness of Red and Sil’s slow-burning love story glow through Zong’s rendering. This spirited tale will appeal to fans of Fables and Through the Woods. (Jan.)

Reviewed on 01/09/2026 | Details & Permalink

Legally Blonde screenwriter Kiwi Smith teams up with cowriters Lustgarten (Misfit City) and Amy Roy and artist Leisha Riddel for a retro heist comedy as bubbly as Crystal Pepsi. In 1990s San Francisco, Brenda, a community college student and undercover computer hacker, accidentally frees Mia Corsair, a glamorous cat burglar, from cryonic stasis. The last thing Mia remembers is being frozen in the 1960s by the villainous Ice Man, just as she was about to make her biggest score. “A woman without a plan is no woman at all,” Mia advises Brenda, and the two quickly recycle Mia’s plot to steal the Net of Indra, a diamond artifact coincidentally about to go on display at a local museum. But Mia’s reemergence catches the attention of her wealthy former arch-rival Hatch Leonard, along with two federal agents (who resemble Mulder and Scully of X-Files fame), and her mother, who’s currently in federal prison. Meanwhile, Mia and Brenda bond and banter while building a makeshift training course in Brenda’s room and rallying her courage to meet her online crush. The double-nostalgia vibe is fun: Mia, the image of the Swinging Sixties in her catsuit and free-love sensibilities, struggles to master ’90s slang and keep up with Brenda’s references to Friends and Quentin Tarantino movies. The lively art shines with pop art color. It’s light fare, but it goes down smooth. (Jan.)

Reviewed on 01/09/2026 | Details & Permalink

In her forthright debut, Cooklin, the nom de plume of zinester Caitlin Cook, documents her asexuality and its impact on romantic relationships throughout her life. At age seven in 2004, Caitlin moves to small-town Appalachian Ohio. “Incredibly bored,” she picks up the socially expected habit of developing crushes. But her first real attraction in sixth grade is less of a romantic spark and more of a desire to “shrink to a microscopic size, climb into his brain, and just see what was inside.” Raised in a nonpracticing Catholic family, she joins an evangelical youth group, where the fellowship pulls her out of a depressive episode. She then latches onto purity culture—sex she’s uninterested in seems easy to resist. Her first boyfriend repeatedly violates her stated boundaries, however, and she later realizes he sexually abused her. As a result, she “stop[s] asking God to step in... he clearly felt I wasn’t worth saving.” In college, she has what she describes as a “hoe phase,” or “exposure therapy.” All the while, she returns to internet searches about bisexuality, asexuality, etc., as she spirals around other labels—“broken; failure; prude; unworthy of love.” Ultimately, she comes to believe love really means “to know” another person, which first requires she know herself. The simplistic art focuses on character close-ups and sitcom-style montages, all in the color palette of the asexual pride flag. In the same vein as My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness, this is an unabashedly vulnerable and informative account. (Jan.)

Reviewed on 01/02/2026 | Details & Permalink

British cartoonist Chapman follows up Breakwater with another affecting, low-key drama, in this case about a trio of restaurant workers balancing work, personal, and familial conflicts. Claudia Grace, chef-owner of Alley, runs the buzzy London restaurant with her sous chef and best friend Lisa, plus bartender and potential hook-up Ben. Despite her growing success, Claudia perpetually feels like she’s in the shadow of her famed chef father. At the encouragement of a food journalist, she enters a “Pro Chef of the Year” contest, even though the stressful competition complicates her day-to-day. Reflecting on her fatigue to Ben, she says, “My life’s been studying and working, that’s about it.” Meanwhile, Lisa struggles to balance her long shifts at Alley and her home life with her husband and young son, while Ben does his best to get his parents, who bemoan his preference for gardening and artisanal mixers over football (or a higher paying job), to acknowledge his accomplishments. Chapman’s graceful art, muted color scheme, and focus on character development serve her storytelling. The details of restaurant operations lend the proceedings an insider’s view, while the many parent-child relationship stresses and strains touch upon universal emotions. It adds up to a kinder, gentler—but no less probing—graphic novel riff on The Bear. (Jan.)

Reviewed on 01/02/2026 | Details & Permalink