Bestselling author Andrew Joseph White (You Weren’t Meant to Be Human, Hell Followed With Us) is back with a horrific new YA thriller, You’re No Better, and we have an exclusive excerpt along with the cover reveal.
The suspense novel will be published on October 20, 2026, Peachtree Teen, an imprint of Peachtree Publishing, and is available for preorder now through Bookshop.
In You’re No Better, “Morgan Slaughter, a seventeen-year-old trans boy with autism, put his serial killer father in prison years ago. Despite that, everyone thinks Morgan will grow up to be just like his dad: including his volatile mother, the documentary crew following their family, and maybe himself.
“Desperately, Morgan latches onto his father’s final victim—the only one who was never identified—hoping that if he unravels the mystery, he’ll finally prove he’s better than the man who hurt him. But this puts Morgan in the crosshairs of classmate Felicity Keating, who knows the truth about Morgan’s childhood—that he wasn’t just a witness to his father’s brutality, he was an accomplice. And if he doesn’t let them help with his investigation? They’ll tell everyone.
“Forced to confront his past, Morgan’s ugly but carefully controlled world unravels. The film crew is manipulative. His mother’s temper spirals into malice, then violence. And Morgan and Felicity may be more tightly intertwined than either of them can stomach . . .”
White shared his inspiration for his latest: “I feel like I’ve been carrying the inspiration for You’re No Better for a long time. I spent my younger years with a morbid fixation on the children and spouses of serial killers, so in a way, this book is a return to form; in the same vein, I wanted to explore what happens after the serial killer is caught and the case is closed. Putting the monster behind bars doesn’t instantly equal a happy ending, you know?”
As for his new protagonist, raised by a serial killer, the author adds, “Morgan, the main character, is my messiest teen protagonist to date. He is angry, manipulative, sometimes toxic, and often hard for others to be around – but at the same time, he is a terrified child who is in constant emotional pain. My hope is that readers see these difficult feelings treated with understanding and respect, especially in the context of a queer, trans, and disabled protagonist.”
The first printing of You’re No Better will be a Deluxe Limited Edition (available everywhere while supplies last) that features metallic edges, illustrated endpapers, a special case stamp, and foil jacket effects.
” I was blown away. The Peachtree Teen design team and illustrator Evangeline Gallagher consistently create some of the most amazing covers, and every little detail – the shattered glass, the photographs, the bloody hands – proves to me how much care went into this work of art. (Plus, isn’t the black/pink/blue-grey color scheme just jaw-dropping? I can’t get over it.)” White said.
Get a peek below at the collectible edition featuring jacket illustration by Evangeline Gallagher, courtesy of Peachtree. Then keep reading for an excerpt.
Excerpt below from You’re No Better: A Novel by Andrew Joseph White. Text copyright © 2026 by Andrew Joseph White. Reproduced with permission from Peachtree Publishing Inc. All rights reserved.
You’re No Better: A Novel
Excerpt from Chapter 1
From the ages of nineteen to forty, my father, Graham Nathaniel Slaughter, kidnapped, tortured, and killed fifty-one women and girls across Virginia and the greater Washington, DC, area. In the early days, it was nothing fancy. Run-of-the-mill brutalizations in his college apartment. But by the time I was born, he’d fashioned a prison out of a waterfront penthouse, where he would trap girls and keep them for weeks at a time. He’d take them apart, piece by piece, until they were rotting with sepsis
and he put them out of their misery.
When I was ten, I watched his fifty-first victim die, and I brought the police right to her body.
Even with a still-warm corpse on the floor, the trial—Did he murder this woman or not—was a nightmare. This is what happens when the accused is a well-respected Capitol Hill lawyer. Between filing errors, thrown-out evidence, and general bullshit delays, it stalled for months; three judges in a row backed out due to “previous professional involvements” with the accused. Dad’s defense litigator, a buddy of his from law school, claimed it was manslaughter, that Dad was simply a man with unusual tastes and it was all a consensual game that got out of hand. A mistake. And we don’t punish men like Dad for mistakes, do we?
He would’ve gotten away with it, too. Because it’s true. We don’t punish men like Dad. For mistakes, or for anything at all.
The only problem was me. The little girl on the witness stand, saying I don’t think she was the only one.
I had no proof of this, of course. My childhood autism diagnosis, combined with the worrying results of my psychiatric evaluation, forced the jury to consider whether the only real witness was misinterpreting a string of sadomasochistic extramarital affairs, or making it up for attention. Besides, who would believe a cold, unsmiling child over a handsome Capitol Hill attorney? And why did details change every time I told the story? Did I see other women or not? Were they hurt or not? Dad’s side of the courtroom pulled my psych eval and called me a manipulative liar. Mom joined in. I’d spent my whole life lying, so why would this be any different.
Then they found the hard drive of photos and, well. I almost preferred it when people thought I was a liar. Being a victim is worse.
On the other side of the Box, Dad gestures for me to put the phone to my ear. My reflection in the glass vaguely overlaps his and, sure, I don’t look like him, but we have the same empty eyes. When we smile, neither of us does it correctly. Behind me, Mom is whispering to the producer again.
I do as Dad asks.
“I don’t know anything about the documentary,” I start.
Dad wrinkles his nose playfully. “Isn’t a father allowed to say hello to his daughter?”
I don’t reply to that. I made the mistake of coming out to Mom as trans last month—I thought she might support me for the Instagram clout, like she does with the whole “autism mom” thing—and got a screaming fit for my trouble. Figures she wouldn’t tell him, but it’s weird to have it confirmed.
Faced with my silence, Dad changes course. “It’s been a while, Bug. Your mother told me you’d gotten yourself on the warden’s shit list. Got yourself banned for a few months. What’d you do?”
I shrug. “Dress code.”
“And?”
I wore a too-short skirt and, when called out on it, took a page from Mom’s book. Threw a fit. Really caused a scene. “I told the CO to go fuck himself.”
“That’s my girl,” he says, even though I got myself banned on purpose.
I was doing better, too. I think. Away from him.
“What do you want?” I ask.
He looks at me like I’m being incredibly rude, rushing through the conversation like this. “Are you on board with the documentary?”
“If I want the money, I have to be.”
“Oh, come on. It won’t be that bad.”
Mom slips into my peripheral vision. She’s got her phone out, camera pointed at us, and when my eyes turn to her, she waves me away. Don’t look, she’s not saying, you’re ruining the shot. It’s supposed to be candid.
I glare. Who gave her permission to bring a phone past security?
Mom just flicks my attention away again. My teeth grind but I raise my chin, tilt my head, give my best angle on instinct.
“I thought you’d be happier about it,” Dad admits. “You’re getting the cash a full seven years early. That’s a deal if I’ve ever heard one.”
I guess. Mom made it clear: As long as I cooperate with the documentary, I get my trust at eighteen instead of twenty-five. Half a million dollars. Enough to get out of here. Start testosterone, buy a tiny condo in Chicago or Seattle, invest the rest. But actually getting that money means pretending to be a girl for a year. And playing nice with the documentary crew. And not losing my shit in the process.
I’m not sure I can do that.
“Terms could be better,” I mutter as Mom adjusts the phone to get a better shot.
Andrew Joseph White is the bestselling author of Hell Followed with Us, The Spirit Bares Its Teeth, Compound Fracture, and more. Born and raised in the Shenandoah Valley, he received his MFA in Creative Writing from George Mason University, and lives in Virginia with his wife and their cranky cat. Learn more at AndrewJosephWhite.com.
