Virginia Feito's Mrs. March was hailed as "a brilliant debut . . . [by] a writer who keeps pace with the grandees she invokes" (Sarah Ditum, Guardian)--from Daphne Du Maurier and Shirley Jackson to Patricia Highsmith. Now, Feito returns with her "silver-polish sentences and her eerie psychological acumen" (Constance Grady, Vox) to unleash an entirely new antihero on us all. Grim Wolds, England: Winifred Notty arrives at Ensor House prepared to play the perfect governess--she'll dutifully tutor her charges, Drusilla and Andrew, tell them bedtime stories, and only joke about eating children. But long, listless days spent within the estate's dreary confines come with an intimate knowledge of the perversions and pathetic preoccupations of the Pounds family--Mr. Pounds can't keep his eyes off Winifred's chest, and Mrs. Pounds takes a sickly pleasure in punishing Winifred for her husband's wandering gaze. Compounded with her disdain for the entitled Pounds children, Winifred finds herself struggling at every turn to stifle the violent compulsions of her past. French tutoring and needlework are one way to pass the time, as is admiring the ugly portraits in the gallery . . . and creeping across the moonlit lawns. . . . Patience. Winifred must have patience, for Christmas is coming, and she has very special gifts planned for the dear souls of Ensor House. Brimming with sardonic wit and culminating in a shocking conclusion, Victorian Psycho plunges readers into the chilling mind of an iconic new literary psychopath.
Virginia Feito's Mrs. March was hailed as "a brilliant debut . . . [by] a writer who keeps pace with the grandees she invokes" (Sarah Ditum, Guardian)--from Daphne Du Maurier and Shirley Jackson to Patricia Highsmith. Now, Feito returns with her "silver-polish sentences and her eerie psychological acumen" (Constance Grady, Vox) to unleash an entirely new antihero on us all.

Grim Wolds, England: Winifred Notty arrives at Ensor House prepared to play the perfect governess--she'll dutifully tutor her charges, Drusilla and Andrew, tell them bedtime stories, and only joke about eating children. But long, listless days spent within the estate's dreary confines come with an intimate knowledge of the perversions and pathetic preoccupations of the Pounds family--Mr. Pounds can't keep his eyes off Winifred's chest, and Mrs. Pounds takes a sickly pleasure in punishing Winifred for her husband's wandering gaze. Compounded with her disdain for the entitled