Excerpt from American Fantasy by Emma Straub, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Excerpt
American Fantasy

"Okay," Annie said. "I didn't think their shirts were good. Vaguely threatening, no?" It felt cruel to say out loud, but Annie was thinking it—those women didn't look like they even played chess.

"Oh yeah," Maira said, nodding. "They're idiots." She waved her fork in the air like a magic wand. "But who cares? Let's go get a drink." The parties were supposed to start at 10 p.m., but it depended on how late the guys were to the evening entertainment and how much of a break they took in between. They'd done two Quiz Shows back to-back, performing for half the ship each time. In the tiki bar, half the stools were covered with purses or towels or the ubiquitous ID badges that every cruiser wore. In front of Annie, two uniformed American Fantasy employees dragged what looked like a volleyball net across the surface of the shallow swimming pool. A woman wearing a dress printed with photos of Keith's shirtless torso on it leaned out of their way but kept dancing.

Nearby, a blonde dressed as the maid from Clue said, "I hear Corey's actually already divorced." Everyone was talking about the guys all the time—sharing their insider knowledge or relaying what they'd read on some fan page. A lot of chatter was about Corey West's legal troubles but not all of it. Annie hadn't yet formed an opinion, other than that Corey West had a lot of work to do on himself, like most middle aged men. "I think Corey has a drinking problem," a bowl of Chex Mix said, "but I also heard that he has an open marriage, so maybe it's not such a big deal. We can't judge." A foosball player in a wheelchair said to her husband, "Scotty's selling vitamins on Instagram now." Annie had seen those ads too, in the days leading up to the cruise, her algorithm clearly having cottoned on to her travel plans, and at first she'd been shocked, seeing Scotty's face there, so clearly lit by a ring light and filmed by his own phone. She hadn't seen his adult face ever, not really.

It was as if everyone on the ship had taken an oath to only talk about the ship, or the guys, as if the rest of their lives had vanished—their jobs, their other interests, their daily to do lists. Maybe this was what orgies were like—Annie wouldn't know. Her phone beeped with a text—Claudia had sent a photo of herself watering the plants in Annie's apartment. She was overwatering the succulents, but they would survive. Could Annie still think of it as Claudia's apartment too? When did that happen, that her child's home was somewhere else? Annie didn't think it had happened yet, or at least she hoped not. She gave the picture a heart and put the phone back in her pocket.

"I think I'm going to get another drink. You want one?" Annie asked Maira, who nodded. Annie spun around on her stool and inched her way toward the bar, where she ordered two more Sexy Sunrises.

It was so much nicer on the deck at night, cool and clear. Annie was an early bird by nature, and she couldn't remember the last time she had been up and out, waiting for something to begin after ten at night. There was a breeze, and all around her, costumes fluttered. The crowd thickened by the minute, and now there was a dense wall of women between the barstools under the thatched roof and the large speakers next to the stage. Annie smiled at the women who moved aside to let her squeeze back in, annoyed but obeying the laws of the land. She'd never been surrounded by women like this, never in her life. She'd never been in a sorority or gone to an all women school. Even the Women's March had had significantly more men than this. Two women dressed as playing cards were standing in the shallow end of the pool with their feet submerged up to their ankles, and in between them there was a man in flip flops and a tank top with a comically large red Solo cup on his head. Human Beer Pong. Annie had never played beer pong, and this man certainly hadn't in at least twenty years, but he had nice looking arms, thin and muscled. Annie watched as Mr. Beer Pong kissed each of the playing cards on the cheek and handed them bottles of beer from a bucket at his feet.

Excerpted from American Fantasy by Emma Straub. Copyright © 2026 by Emma Straub. Excerpted by permission of Riverhead Books. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.