The Found Object Society: A Novel - Softcover

Maryk, Michelle

Softcover

ISBN 10: 136811475X ISBN 13: 9781368114752

Verlag: Hyperion Avenue, 2026

Inhaltsangabe

An atmospheric speculative suspense novel following a mysterious society offering its members the chance to relive the death of another person—and the self-destructive woman determined to uncover its secrets

This ambitious, genre-bending debut is perfect for fans of time-travel fiction including Matt Haig’s The Midnight Library and Gareth Brown’s The Book of Doors

A Publisher's Marketplace Spring/Summer 2026 Buzz Book!

A People Best Books of February 2026!

An Allstora Shelf Care Society Book Club Pick!

For twenty years, Greta Davenport has lived with the guilt of surviving the accident that killed her parents. She’s tested the limits of her own mortality ever since, but little gives her the dopamine rush she craves. Not until the night she almost drunkenly crashes her car into a tree, and a peculiar blank card slides under her front door—an invitation to the Found Object Society. What she discovers there is beyond comprehension: an opulent, subterranean playground filled with aisles of objects from different eras and regions of the world. Pick an object and go on a voyage to relive the final moments of the person who died holding it, along with an unparalleled, irreplicable high. Greta’s hooked, but she can't quiet her questions about the society and its enigmatic creators, the answers to which have implications far beyond her growing dependence on the voyages. Death is addictive, and what she uncovers will put her entire life into question.

A fever dream of a novel with episodic, time-traveling chapters told from multiple points of view, The Found Object Society examines the depraved whims of the ultrarich and the breadth of unresolved trauma—all while asking how grief and the choices we make in its aftermath can change the course of our lives. Michelle Maryk’s wholly original and ambitious debut opens an impeccably wrought speculative world of greed, power, and destiny.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Michelle Maryk graduated from Cornell University with a degree in English and attended the Yale Writer’s Workshop. For the better part of twenty-five years, she’s been a successful voiceover, on-camera commercial, and comedic actor, and she is a dual Swedish and US citizen. The Found Object Society is her debut novel.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Rules of the Found Object Society:
1. Interfering or tampering with the vessel of your voyage is strictly prohibited. You are a passenger ONLY. This rule will be enforced to its full extent.
2. Absolutely no photography or cellular or recording devices of any kind are permitted. Cell phones must be handed over and secured before entry.
3. Posting on social media or discussing the Found Object Society with anyone who is not an employee or fellow member is strictly forbidden.
4. Members must wait a minimum of seventy-two hours between voyages.
5. Do not loiter in the waiting area.
6. A member who appears to be intoxicated, high, or otherwise impaired with any controlled substance will be asked to leave.
7. No refunds will be given for any reason.

Vessel? Voyage? Passenger? Rules that will be enforced? Greta’s never been good at rules.

“Greta Davenport,” the bouncer says.

He’s standing behind her, his body emitting heat like a furnace. She turns around, embarrassed at being caught in what feels like a private act of stroking the wallpaper.

“Yes? Sorry, I shouldn’t be touching things,” she says.

He looks bemused and shakes his head. “Don’t be silly. Touching the wallpaper is fine.” His face shifts back to serious bouncer face. “Just nothing else beyond this room.”

“Oh, um, roger that,” she says. Roger that? Big Daniel Craig has her tongue-tied, talking like an idiot. Ha, Big Daniel Craig.

“Your phone, if you please, Miss Davenport.” His hand extends toward her, a shovel in the air.
Right, rule number two.

“Sure, of course.” She takes the iPhone out of her purse and pauses, rethinking giving up her umbilical lifeline.

He waves his fingers at her. “Miss?”

Greta relents and places it in his palm. Part of her thinks he may crush it into dust in front of her.

“Much obliged,” he says. He goes back to the area by the phone and spins a combination lock that’s camouflaged within the wallpaper.

He opens the safe and places her phone inside. Greta cranes her neck to see how many other phones are in there, how many other patrons there may be in the Found Object Society tonight. It’s hard to see, and he closes the safe quickly, giving the numbers a spin. The safe disappears into the debauchery of the wallpaper.

“Miranda will be out in a moment to take you back for your voyage.”

“Voyage. I see that on the sign with the rules. What does that mean? And what’s with these rules and the enforcement stuff?” Greta says.

He scratches his cheek with a liverwurst-size index finger. His eyes dart over to a curtained section of the wall. “Yes, Miss Davenport, that’s what we call it. A voyage. And, uh, as for the enforcement—”

The drapes part and Big Daniel Craig shifts his body to attention, changing his tone.

“—that’s for Miranda to tell you about, miss, not the likes of me.”

A woman Greta assumes is Miranda emerges through the oxblood-colored velvet. A jaw-dropping Oaxacan goddess birthed in front of her—the diametric opposite of the bureaucratic and lackluster Eileen.

“At long last, Greta Davenport. I’m Miranda. And yes,” she says, giving the bouncer a steely look, “please direct any questions you may have to me.” She holds out her hand.

Greta is so flummoxed by this gorgeous creature standing before her that she’s tempted to genuflect and kiss her hand instead of shaking it. Reaching for Miranda’s hand, Greta is painfully aware of how unmanicured and rough her nails are. Miranda’s fingers are elegant, delicate as bird bones. Each digit is adorned with a ring, each one more eye-catching than the one before it; bands of gold and platinum, dolloped with gemstones.

The one on her thumb freezes Greta. It’s an elaborate tree, a network of branches woven from gold, a multitude of emeralds for leaves, a snarl of roots that extend past her knuckle, the thickest root in the center, made of saffron-colored topaz and forming an arrow that points toward her wrist.

It’s the same design as the foamed milk of her latte.

Greta keeps her grasp and looks up at Miranda’s face. Could she be the delivery driver? The profiles are alike, but the similarities end there. Greta’s mind is trying to make connections where none exist.

“That’s quite a ring.” Greta taps the pad of her thumb on top of the bejeweled tree.

“Thank you.” Miranda extracts her hand and smiles.

Greta’s surprised that Miranda’s voice is unaccented. She had assumed the Miss whom Big Daniel Craig was speaking to on the phone in what sounded like a foreign language had been Miranda. Her mistake. Miranda’s dressed to the nines in voluminous layers of blood-orange silk, crinoline, and muslin that wrap around what must be a spectacular body. There’s a bustle in the back and either she’s naturally wasp-waisted or she’s wearing a corset (an actual freaking corset). Like a sugar cone, it pushes her Goldilocks “just right” bosom up and over the fabric. A long gold chain hangs down between her breasts, the pendant disappearing among the cloth and soft flesh. Even standing still, her clothing rustles and murmurs. A breeze in the forest.

“Have we met before?” Greta says.

Evading the question, Miranda says, “I’m sure you’re eager to begin, Greta.” She parts the velvet curtain from where she emerged. “Shall we?”

“Enjoy your death, Miss Davenport,” Big Daniel Craig says with a smile, and waves.

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Hyperion Avenue
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2026
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 136811475X
• ISBN 13: 9781368114752
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 448
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Disney Trading B.V.; TWDC.Corpcomms.Europe@disney.com; ; Runstraat 11; Amsterdam; 1016 GJ; Niederlande