If the haunted consumer tech of “The New Boyfriend” and the folkloric obligations in “The Summer People” hooked you, you’ll love how Her Body and Other Parties lets the inexplicable seep into the everyday. Stories like “The Husband Stitch” and “Especially Heinous” blur reality with taboo desire and pop-culture hauntings, mirroring the way Link’s ghosts, dolls, and commitments shape real relationships. Machado’s surreal rules are felt rather than explained, delivering that same eerie thrill of recognition you had when the supernatural quietly rewrote the terms of the real.

If you were drawn to how “The Lesson” tucks babysitting monsters into a wedding on an island, or how “I Can See Right Through You” threads celebrity culture through a literal haunting, Karen Russell’s Vampires in the Lemon Grove hits the same nerve. A pair of aging vampires trying to live quietly in Italy, ex-presidents reincarnated as horses, and factory girls turning into silkworms all play out in recognizable worlds. Like Link, Russell doesn’t over-explain the magic; she lets it unsettle the familiar and illuminate the human mess underneath.

If the bleakly funny privilege-satire of “Valley of the Girls” made you grin and wince, Saunders’ Tenth of December will scratch that itch. “The Semplica-Girl Diaries” skewers consumer status with a horrifyingly casual premise, while “Escape from Spiderhead” blends corporate science with dark laughs—akin to Link’s bright, biting humor when monsters (or billionaires) are just part of the landscape. Saunders keeps the jokes sharp and the stakes human, the same tonal tightrope that makes Link’s weird worlds so wickedly funny.

If the reveals in “Secret Identity” (that masquerade of superheroes and dentists) or the romantic mythmaking of “Origin Story” delighted you, Oyeyemi’s key-and-door-linked tales will too. What Is Not Yours Is Not Yours teases open narratives that refuse to stay put—identities slip, objects reframe histories, and endings pivot in sly, luminous ways. Like Link, Oyeyemi builds toward twists that feel less like tricks and more like a door you didn’t know was there swinging open.

If you loved the charged interiority of “Origin Story” and the fraught duty in “The Summer People,” Carter’s The Bloody Chamber dives just as deeply into desire, power, and fear through fabulist retellings. Her narrators—like Link’s lovers, caretakers, and liars—navigate dangerous bargains with the uncanny. The title novella’s bride negotiating a murderous husband echoes Link’s blend of fairy-tale logic and psychological acuity, delivering that same heady mix of seduction, dread, and hard-won self-knowledge.