A suffocating and sharp narrative horror novel for fans of Victor LaValle and The Reformatory, I’ll Watch Your Baby is a haunting reimagining of Linda Taylor -known as the original Welfare Queen – pursued, scrutinized, celebrated and vilified, and the impact her image has had for generations.

1974. Lottie Turner is already infamous. Running a wheel of schemes and scams, she’s willing to work for what she wants in…creative ways. But no business is more lucrative than desperate families looking to adopt a child—and there’s only one way to procure children quickly.

And the only way to take what’s owed you is to cross the line no one else is willing to cross.

1994. Bless has finally found the family she deserved. After suffocating slowly with lackluster parents and a non-starter past, she’s found the friends that means everything to her. That she’d live and die for. As they make their way across the country, one smash and grab at a time, Bless is used to acting fast and thinking on her feet.

But someone is playing a long game. Someone has unfinished business. Soon Bless is trapped in a web of horrors past and present, where the only escape hatch is a path only she can walk, if she finds the courage to take it.

I received an advance copy of this book courtesy of the publisher. All thoughts are my own.

I read Neena Viel’s Listen to Your Sister last year and was completely riveted. It was creepy, intense, and had a lot to say about Black women carrying families that don’t always carry them back. So when I heard about this book, I was excited to get my hands on it. It did not disappoint.

Viel is back doing what she does best. Creepy worlds, sharp social commentary, and Black women at the center of the story. This time she’s pulling from the real-life case of Linda Taylor, the woman who came to be known as “the welfare queen.” That label got thrown on her in the seventies, and ever since, it’s been used to vilify any Black woman in need of assistance from a system that was built without her in mind. Viel takes that history, that label, and turns it into a horror story with real weight and a lot of gore.

The book moves between two timelines. In the seventies, we’re with Lottie, a woman who has figured out exactly how the world works, and she’s not interested in being polite about it. She runs scams. She moves through the world fast. She’s found one particular hustle that’s more profitable than the rest, and it involves couples desperate to bring home a child and her own willingness to do whatever it takes to keep that pipeline moving. In the nineties, we’re with Blessed. Blessed has finally found a chosen family in a group of friends she’d do anything for, and the group is robbing its way from city to city. She’s a survivor who thinks on her feet. But there’s someone in the background with a much longer plan running, and the two timelines are heading straight for each other. By the time those threads collide, the story is somewhere I genuinely did not see coming.

Lottie and Blessed are two of the most interesting characters I’ve spent time with this year. They aren’t easy to love, and the book doesn’t ask you to. They’re both shaped by what the world has handed them, and Viel writes them with so much specificity that they never feel like symbols, even when the book is doing big thematic work. Lottie’s chapters in particular crackle. She’s smart and ruthless and a little bit terrifying, and you understand exactly how she got there.
The systemic racism and oppression on these pages is real and Viel doesn’t soften any of it. She illustrates these atrocities in ways that are horrific to read, and that’s the point. This is a horror novel about horrors that actually happened, and the gore on the page (and all the flies) is in direct conversation with the violence the country has been doing to Black women for generations. It’s a lot, but it’s supposed to be.

The pacing is sharp. The dual timeline structure keeps everything moving, and the writing has the same intensity her last book had. Even the gore, which there is a lot of, is doing work rather than just trying to shock you. What I think is most impressive is how much this book has to say. It’s about oppression, yes. But it’s also about reclaiming your own power and refusing to let other people own the story of your life. Both Lottie and Blessed are wrestling with that in their own ways, and the book lets the wrestling get messy.

I did an immersive read with the ARC and the audiobook, and the dual narration by Chanté McCormick and Keylor Leigh was top tier. They perfectly captured the voices of Lottie and Blessed, and the way they handled the back and forth between the two timelines really elevated the experience. If you’re an audio person, I’d point you to it.

If you loved Listen to Your Sister, you’re going to want this one too. If you’re new to Viel, this is a great place to jump in. Either way, just be ready. It’s a hard book by design, and it earns every bit of that weight.