I Always Find You

In September 1985, nineteen-year-old John Lindqvist moved into a dilapidated old building in Stockholm, planning to make his living as a magician. Something strange was going on in the locked shower room in the building’s basement—and the price of entry was just a little blood.
I Always Find You is a horror story—as bizarre and macabre as any of Lindqvist’s earlier novels—but it’s also a melancholy meditation on being young and lonely, on making friends and growing up. It’s about magic, and the intensity of human connection—and the evil we carry inside.