(Image from Barnes & Noble)

None in the Village dare step
on the shadows we forge,
lest their name
be next proclaimed.
For as evening approaches
and heat subsides
our elders shrivel and shrink,
and we girls
grow spine tall (224).

The more I read, the more I'm convinced - nothing is quite as chilling as the truth. Ghosts, zombies, vampires, and demons have their place, sure, but at the end of the day, we know they're not real (okay, maybe not at the end of the day, when monsters easily slip into our dreams; in the light of the morning, then, we know they're not real). Not so with the devils we see on the 5 o'clock news or learn about in the paper. Those fiends are real. And that's terrifying.

History gives us this frightening tale: Between February 1692 and May 1693, 19 citizens of Massachusetts were executed for practicing witchcraft. Hundreds of others were accused, tried, and imprisoned for the same crime. The kicker? All of those acts were performed based on the word of a small group of teenage girls. Considered "seers" by the pious folk of Salem Village, the girls regularly "saw" their neighbors engaging in questionable acts. Although doctors could find nothing physically wrong with the girls, they were afflicted by constant fits, in which they would scream, throw things, contort their bodies into impossible positions, and proclaim that they were being tortured by witches. Boiling over with righteous indignation, the townspeople took it upon themselves to rid their community of anyone the "seers" accused. Concrete evidence hardly mattered when the purest vessels in the land were receiving holy visions. The leaders of Salem Village accepted the girls' accusations as the God's honest truth, a mistake that led to some of the cruelest deaths in American history.

What motivated the girls (Religious fanaticism? PTSD from witnessing violent Indian attacks? Eating infected rye bread? Hunger for power?) is unknown, but Stephanie Hemphill runs with the idea that the "seers" would do and say anything to keep the town's attention focused on them. In Wicked Girls, she introduces the 7 girls who, collectively, caused the deaths of 20 people, and were directly responsible for tarnishing the reputations of scores of others. Although Hemphill uses her literary license to enlarge the characters, the girls she describes are those identified in the history books: there's orphan Mercy Lewis (17), who works as a maid for the Putnam Family; Ann Putnam Jr. (12), a young lady of stature in town; Margaret Walcott (17), Ann's step-cousin; Abigail Williams (12), niece of Reverend Samuel Parris; Betty Parris (8), the Reverend's daughter; Elizabeth Hubbard (17), a niece of the town doctor; and Susannah Sheldon (18), a girl from Salem town who serves a local family. Together, they form a tight clique. As their little fits gain notice from the people around them, they heighten the drama by writhing on the floor with greater agitation, pinching themselves, crying out during church services, and swooning. So poison are their accusations that no one dares cross the girls.

The girls believe in their own visions to varying degrees. Mercy knows she hasn't truly seen a thing, but she'll do whatever it takes to punish the man she holds responsible for her parents' deaths. Margaret's stained by her own sins, yet punishes others with fervor. Ann's more concerned about her own power within the group than about anyone they might hurt with their accusations. Insisting on managing her own outbursts, Abigail struggles to keep her position in the clique. Susannah's too slow to truly understand, Betty too young. Elizabeth is tortured by what she does, but can't stand up to Ann, let alone those who abuse her. All crave the attention and power they get from their stunts. The high is too exhilirating to give up.

As the girls' power builds, crests and eventually diminishes, we witness their every thought and action. Written in free verse, the novel grows more chilling with every sentence. What results is a taut, terrifying story of innocence tainted by greed and power lust. More frightening than any Stephen King novel, Wicked Girls is a perfectly shivery Halloween read. I've still got goosebumps.

(Readalikes: Although I've never read it, The Crucible by Arthur Miller tells the same story. It also reminded me of Salem Falls by Jodi Picoult.)

Grade: B

If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG-13 for violence, some sexual content, reference to physical abuse of children

To the FTC, with love: I received an ARC of Wicked Girls from the generous folks at Harper Collins. Thank you!

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Believe it or not, this is the 700th post I've published here at BBB. I know, right? Wow. In celebration, I'm giving away a brand new, hardcover copy of Wicked Girls by Stephanie Hemphill. Thanks to Harper Collins for providing me with it. Since I will be mailing it myself, I'm opening the giveaway to all of my readers, wherever in the world you may reside. All you have to do is leave a comment on this post telling me how you feel about Halloween. Love it? Hate it? How do you celebrate? What books are you reading to get you into that shivery, quivery Halloween state of mind? I will choose a winner (using random.org) on October 15. Please remember to leave a working email address if you do not have a public blog. Thanks and good luck!