Gothictown by Emily Carpenter (EXCERPT)

We have a publishing day treat for readers with an excerpt from Emily Carpenter’s brand new thriller Gothictown, out today from Kensington Books!

Manhattan chef Billie Hope is feeling at a loose end: her restaurant has closed and she’s feeling more than a little lonely, despite enjoying the (unfortunately) abundant free time she now has to spend with her husband Peter and daughter Meredith. So when she gets an email from the small Georgia town of Juliana, incentivizing new residents to move in with promises of affordable living, ample job opportunities and a welcoming community for all, it’s a siren song that neither she nor her family can resist.

At first, Juliana seems as amazing as advertised. But soon after settling in, Billie begins to sense that something deeply unsettling is lurking beneath the town’s genteel surface. The three founding families known as The Old Guard seem a little too invested in the town’s well-being, to the point that they’ll sweep anything that could mar Juliana’s perfect image — unpaid taxes, disappearances, even death — under the rug.

As the Hope family begins to experience unusual new physical and emotional symptoms, Billie makes a horrifying discovery that will set her on a collision course with the truth about Juliana’s secret past — and with the Old Guard who will do whatever it takes to not only keep their secrets buried, but also keep Billie a part of their idea of Juliana forever.

Read on for a seductively written excerpt that almost had me ready to pack up my family and head down to Georgia myself!

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ONE

The email sat two-thirds of the way down my depressingly sparse inbox. ENTREPRENEURS, REMOTE WORKERS, PROFESSIONALS, the subject line read, then further down in the body, The Gentle South Beckons You…

I paused the Netflix documentary playing in the background, another pyramid-scheme-turned-cult series where the perpetrators of whatever scam were now sitting in a jail cell. It was my jam these days, two years after New York’s pandemic lockdown, comfort-watching shows about appalling scammers with God complexes. They reassured me that sometimes the bad guys really did lose. That the people taken in by them, the victims who had suffered major professional and personal loss, could rise from the ashes.

I tossed the remote aside and focused on my laptop. The email was from someone named Bonnie St. John. Probably junk but what the hell. My Lower East Side restaurant, Billie’s, had been closed long enough that I wasn’t even getting any emails related to the business anymore. And I certainly wasn’t getting any from Mom. So yeah, even spam had started to look interesting. I opened it.

Dear Billie Hope,

Start your life today in a community that cares, courtesy of the Juliana Initiative. Founded in 1832, Juliana, Georgia is an idyllic, historic, riverside mill town that offers every amenity you need to start your new business, continue your remote work, or set up your practice in a safe, secure, and vital environment.

We may be two hours northwest of bustling Atlanta, but we are a world away from city life. Juliana has always been its own town, and we are proud of it. The weather is warm here and so are the people…a perfect place to raise your family or start one at last. Purchase your dream home in Juliana for only $100 and receive a generous business grant from our town council. We welcome all races, genders, orientations, religions, and creeds to Georgia’s gentle jewel…

Below the text was a picture of a quaint town square. It was straight out of a storybook—courthouse, bronze statue surrounded by ancient oak trees, rows and rows of streetlamps. Below that was a link. I clicked on it, and it took me to the homepage of Juliana, Georgia. The site was clean, modern, and professionally laid out, showing more photos of the town. Wide sidewalks, cute shops, and window boxes bursting with flowers. Gorgeous Victorian houses, all crisply painted in pastel shades. American flags on every corner.

My heart did a little flip as I reread the paragraph. One hundred dollars for a house? That couldn’t be right. Although I had just recently read an article in the Times about how several cities across the U.S. and Europe whose economies were suffering in the wake of the pandemic were luring people to move with offers like this. Topeka, Kansas offering low-cost apartments to remote workers who wanted to relocate. A town up in South Dakota handing out grants to small business owners. Even a medieval village in northern Italy giving away castles for free. Times were hard. People were getting creative. But this was beyond.

I clicked through the rest of the town’s website. There was the elementary and high school, the river spanned by a picture-perfect bridge that looked like it was straight out of a movie set. Medical services in the county. The population of Juliana, Georgia was predominantly white—no surprise there—but the numbers showed a fairly racially diverse community. Not only that but, included with the rainbow variety of Christian churches located within a fifteen-mile radius, there was a Jewish temple and a Unitarian church.

My heart beat faster, and every nerve pulsed beneath my skin. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Replies were to be directed to a generic email address, info@gentlejuliana.gov. I hit the link and typed out one sentence.

Is this offer for real?

I sent it. Almost instantly a reply pinged back. Hello! Thanks for your interest in Juliana, Georgia’s Initiative. Please provide your contact information, and someone will be happy to call and answer any questions you may have. It was signed Dixie Minette, Mayor.

My heartbeat ratcheted up to a full-blown patter. I typed my cell number and hit send, the whooshing sound giving me another wave of goosebumps.

“Peter,” I said over my shoulder.

“Hm?” My husband was on his laptop over at the dining room table he used for his office.

I looked at him, then over at Meredith. She was sprawled out on the rug, my old Joy of Cooking open in front of her, finger on a page, mouthing words. She’d started reading early, at four, and showed little interest in typical picture books. Ramsey lay beside her, the entire length of his substantial, orange cat body in contact with hers.

The goosebumps were now covering me head to toe. This was the way I’d felt when I’d first gotten the idea for Billie’s. When I’d first envisioned the menu, the atmosphere, the exact space I wanted in Alphabet City. I’d had this same hair-raising sense of rightness.

“Do you know anyone in Georgia?” I asked Peter.

“State or country?” He didn’t look up from his laptop.

“State.”

“I don’t think so. Why?”

I carried the laptop over to the table and stood beside him. His reddish-brown hair was mussed, and his round tortoiseshell glasses had slid halfway down his freckled nose. He smelled like my guilty pleasure: the phosphate-packed laundry detergent I bought furtively at the CVS on Orchard, the one with the scent of a chemical version of a grassy meadow. His scent surrounding me, my heart going wild and every cell in my body on full alert, I felt like I was about to blast off into space.

A small town. Our own house. A perfect childhood for Mere and…

Another restaurant for me.

Peter was grinning at me. “Billie. What?”

I pointed at my screen. He read the email.

“Huh.”

I leaned over, clicking around Juliana, Georgia’s website for him. “I mean, look.”

He took it in. “It’s a pretty town. I’ll give it that.”

“Check this out.” I navigated back to the ad, which they’d given the spot of honor right in the middle of the homepage. I pointed to a row of adorable Victorian houses. “A hundred dollars, Peter. One hundred dollars.”

He looked doubtful. “Not for one of these. No way.”

~~~~~~~

From Gothictown by Emily Carpenter. Copyright © 2025 by the author and reprinted by permission.

Gothictown by Emily Carpenter was published today March 25 2025 by Kensington Books and is available from all good booksellers, including