R.L Stine - Fear Street: High Tide

High Tide washes over you like a summer wave — warm at first, even inviting, until you realize something's dragging you under. R.L. Stine trades the chilly back alleys of Shadyside for sun-drenched beaches and salty air, but don’t let the postcard setting fool you. There's blood in the water. And once it starts, it doesn't stop.

This one’s about a summer job at the beach — lifeguards, bikinis, late-night parties, all the usual teen movie gloss. But there’s something off beneath the tan lines and flirtation. A boy falls for a girl with secrets deeper than the ocean, and soon people are turning up dead. Accidents, they say. But in Stine’s world, nothing is just an accident. There’s always a hand behind the curtain, pushing, pulling, drowning.

The genius of High Tide is how it makes paradise feel claustrophobic. Wide-open beaches somehow feel tighter than any locked basement. The sun shines, but it doesn’t warm you. And as the tide rolls in, it carries with it every bad decision, every ignored warning, every kiss that shouldn’t have happened. By the time the water’s up to your neck, it’s too late to scream. Because no one’s listening. Not out here.