02/15/2016
The legend and mystery surrounding Mary Mallon, better known as Typhoid Mary, is given a supernatural twist in Wolff’s creepy but unsatisfying debut. During a pleasure cruise on the East River with friends, graduate student Karalee Soper can’t resist the lure of North Brother Island, where Mary Mallon was quarantined a century ago. In fact, Karalee’s great-grandfather, George A. Soper, was the one who finally captured Mary after she sickened many people with her cooking. The friends intend to explore the ruins and get off the island before dark, but they meet a woman dressed in rags named Mary, and she has other plans for them. Interspersed passages from Mary’s point of view humanize a woman who was made a pariah, making it clear that Karalee’s connection to her goes deep. As very bad things begin to happen to Karalee and her friends, a violent conclusion seems inevitable, but the abrupt ending means Karalee’s motivations aren’t explored thoroughly. This story of vengeance is atmospheric and spooky, with a pervasive sense of dread, but it could use some fleshing out. Agent: Sharon Pelletier, Dystel & Goderich Literary Agency. (July)
"A voice that surprises you with its originality. A story that compels you to keep turning pages. A powerful horror novel that chills you right to the bone." —M. J. Rose, New York Times bestselling author of The Secret Language of Stones
"A rich mix of alternative history and historical fact, vividly brought to life with the writing chops and style of a seasoned pro...A dazzling tour de force."—Vincent Zandri, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of The Remains
"An instant classic. A tale where the horror is psychological as well as physical, and sneaks up behind you like a shambling corpse—or a vengeful killer."—Allan Leverone, New York Times bestselling author of Mr. Midnight
"A classic horror story written with true literary flair. At once terrifying and mesmerizing, the richness of the language puts the reader into the scene with chilling precision. Stephen King, don't look now, but Dana I. Wolff is breathing down your neck!"—Kitty Pilgrim, author of The Explorer's Code
"Wolff’s imperturbable calmness adds punch to the inevitable grisliness. A strong, quick, and perfectly upsetting little shocker."—Booklist
"[The Prisoner of Hell Gate] presents a classic horror scenario....with a decidedly millennial twist...Wolff's way with characterization and situation recalls Stephen King's grounded, relatable style (with Mary Mallon rendered particularly vividly), and she employs genre tropes deftly."—Kirkus Reviews
“A haunted island. So close to one of the greatest cities on earth and yet so hellishly far. What a wonderfully scary idea. The eerie hypnotic mood here is perfect as are the frights, the startling climax, and the amazing blend of history and fiction. I was reminded of Richard Matheson’s classic Hell House and have no doubt that this too will become a classic.”
— David Morrell, New York Times bestselling author of Creepers and First Blood
“The Prisoner of Hell Gate will be one of the hottest books this summer. …Beautifully written. …An old-time classic horror story.”
— Amos Lassen
“This story of vengeance is atmospheric and spooky, with a pervasive sense of dread. …Creepy.”
— Publishers Weekly
“Deeply atmospheric, The Prisoner of Hell Gate, is a book to savor. Not only is the writing excellent, but the history explored is utterly fascinating. The plight of the characters Dana I. Wolff so vividly portrays will linger in the mind long after the shocking conclusion. A can’t miss for fans of literary horror and anybody who loves a genuinely chilling tale.”
— Daniel Palmer, USA Today bestselling author of Trauma and Forgive Me
“Written with literary flair and superb characterization, this chilling, elegant horror story is a delight.”
— Science Thrillers
02/01/2016
Karalee Soper's great-grandfather tracked down and incarcerated the Irish immigrant cook known as Typhoid Mary. So when Karalee and her friends are cruising Manhattan's East River and find themselves near North Brother Island, where Mary was isolated for decades, they can't resist hopping ashore. Alas, the island is only supposed to be uninhabited. The pseudonymous Wolff is a former publishing executive and literary agent.
12/01/2016
Five friends, academics in the field of public health, take a boat ride to celebrate the end of summer. Karalee and her friends visit North Brother Island, a tiny bit of land off the coast of the Bronx, in the dangerous tides known as the Hell Gate of the East River. The isolated island has a dismal history: it once housed a quarantine hospital for smallpox, typhoid, and other communicable disease sufferers, including the infamous "Typhoid Mary" Mallon. Karalee is particularly interested, since she is a descendant of the famous public health official George A. Soper—the man who tracked down Mallon, one of the first known symptom-free carriers of typhoid fever. Today the island is off-limits to the public—but someone is living there. Chapters alternate between Karalee and the mysterious woman on the island. This story starts off, like many horror tales, as an adventurous lark. The friends, who playfully call themselves the "sewer rats," anchor their boat and walk around, chatting about the island's history while swigging beers and smoking joints. When day fades to evening and the summer temperatures begin to cool down, the group prepare to leave but find the boat damaged and unseaworthy. Assuming a benign accident, the sewer rats don't panic—but know they are, for the time being, trapped on the island. As night falls, the island's true nature reveals itself. Artfully incorporating germophobia, Wolff offers a campy work of horror that is uniquely frightening. The creep factor and fascinating history help readers overlook some of the less than believable plot elements, awkward exposition, and stock characters. VERDICT For fans of horror and suspense.—Tara Kehoe, New Jersey State Library Talking Book & Braille Center, Trenton
2016-04-13
Typhoid Mary is alive and well off the coast of New York. Wolff presents a classic horror scenario—sybaritic youths running afoul of a murderous maniac in the woods—with a decidedly millennial twist: the true monster here is not the madwoman brandishing plague and a wickedly sharp barbecue fork but the very notion of social privilege. The madwoman in question is one "Typhoid" Mary Mallon, the infamous spreader of disease exiled to the rude shores of North Brother Island off the coast of Manhattan by the pioneering public health reformer George Soper. Strangely ageless at 113 years old and in typically robust health (the actual Mallon was only a carrier who never suffered the symptoms of her disease), Mary, alone on the island for decades, seethes with rage at her treatment by Soper and a society in which a poor Irish girl's hopes and desires counted for exactly nothing. Of course, Mallon's irresponsibility killed many innocents, but Wolff's sympathies are squarely with Mallon…as are those of her protagonist, Karalee Soper, great-granddaughter of George, who, in an amazing coincidence, winds up stranded on Mary's island with a cohort of her grad student pals, who are, in another amazing coincidence, studying public health. Wolff depicts the hapless scholars (who wash up on the island as a result of a drug-fueled boating excursion) as smug, grotesquely privileged boors deserving of Mary's gruesome attentions; Karalee is the exception, as she finds herself empathizing with Mary's plight (and that of the island's other ghosts, women and children burned to death as a result of unpunished negligence) and progressively estranged from her doomed colleagues. Wolff's way with characterization and situation recalls Stephen King's grounded, relatable style (with Mary Mallon rendered particularly vividly), and she employs genre tropes deftly, but the narrative's oddly imbalanced respect for the murderous Mallon and contempt for the grad students—who, for all of their inane self-involvement, are preparing for careers in public service—mute much of the horror, as the victims are irritating straw men and not missed when dispatched, and Karalee's own issues (mainly a lousy dad), which align her with Mallon, seem underdeveloped and render her disloyal actions and sour perspective confusing and off-putting. Wolff has an intriguing premise and something fresh to say with the horror genre, but ideological concerns trump the scares, and the author fails to craft a hero as compelling as her thwarted, vengeful villain.
