The veteran screenwriter’s upcoming novel follows a man who becomes a suspect in his sister’s disappearance
Credit: Celadon Books; Rena Callahan
NEED TO KNOW
- PEOPLE can share an exclusive excerpt from Andy Callahan’s upcoming thriller Nobody Deserves This
- Out in early 2027, the book follows a man who attempts to solve his sister’s disappearance after he’s deemed a suspect
- Nobody Deserves This is the veteran screenwriter’s debut novel
Andy Callahan’s debut thriller reveals the dark side of an affluent Philadelphia region.
PEOPLE can exclusively reveal the cover of Nobody Deserves This, the TV writer’s upcoming novel, due out next year from Macmillan Publishing imprint Celadon Books.
Nobody Deserves This, set in the Philadelphia Main Line, centers on Sean Mulcahy, a college dropout reeling from a recent tragedy. Four months earlier, Sean’s younger sister, Mia, vanished without a trace. Compounding his family’s grief, Sean is a suspect in her disappearance, along with that of Sarah, a second girl who's gone missing. Sean’s own father also doesn’t believe that he’s innocent.
When a third girl disappears, Sean is determined to outsmart the police and solve the case for himself. But when he unearths a devastating clue, leading him to believe that a serial killer is on the loose, Sean must team up with his dad to uncover the truth — and clear his name.
Credit: Celadon Books
Callahan, a veteran screenwriter for shows like Person of Interest and Lethal Weapon, knows what goes into crafting a propulsive crime story. But Nobody Deserves This also stemmed from his experience as a parent.
"I started writing Nobody Deserves This shortly after my kids became teenagers, around the same time I thought parenting was about to get easier,” the author tells PEOPLE.
“It didn’t. I was suddenly navigating a world of cell phones and social media and cybercrimes and FOMO, alongside the nonstop allure of wealth and fame at any cost. My wife and I found ourselves sharing parenting duties with teenage influencers and random Uber drivers."
“It’s a hard world to exist in, let alone raise kids in,” Callahan continues. “But I found out along the way… it’s a terrific world to set a thriller in! I hope readers enjoy the ride!"
Intrigued? Read the prologue from Nobody Deserves This below.
November 23, 2022
You promised yourself you wouldn’t get too drunk tonight. Oops!
This has been the best party all year, so what’s wrong with letting it just wash all over you in the form of $4 beers, germy reunion hugs and a bonus tequila shot compliments of that hot guy from Shipley whose name you can’t remember? Nothing, actually! Of course you drank too much!
People have been hyping this Bar Five reunion for weeks. Yes, it’s a famously s—ty dive bar catering to the area’s most committed alcoholics, but for a $20 cover the bouncer plays dumb with even the lamest fake ID, so tonight it’s crawling with underage Main Line college kids back in town for Thanksgiving. You haven’t seen any of these people in three months, and you’ve missed them like crazy. College is awesome but it’s just not the same. Tonight’s your one and only chance to tap back into some of that fading high school energy before reconnecting with your family all weekend.
Credit: Rena Callahan
Justin’s buying everyone’s drinks, Vivi’s dancing on the bar and Leo still has a crush on you. It’s absolutely living up to the hype.
But then you check the time. S—. You need to hit the road and you’re a little drunker than you planned for. What you really need now is an ice water, but getting one would be a mistake. You know yourself too well. If you went up to the bar again, you’d end up ordering another Ultra or chatting up Hot Shipley Shot Guy, and you really can’t do either because tomorrow’s a race day.
Six a.m. wake-up.
Seven a.m. warm-up.
Eight a.m. gun.
So you skip the water and call an Uber. If you leave now, you’ll still get six hours of sleep and pop out of bed with the sort of small-bore hangover that’s cured with a single Advil.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket. Uber’s on its way. In four minutes, you’ll be going home a winner — blissfully happy, manageably drunk. You almost trip over a barstool on your way to the door. Okay, so maybe you’re drunker than you thought. You regret nothing.
You’re 10 feet from the exit when Sean Mulcahy slopes into your path for a generous reunion hug. Except it’s not technically a reunion since you and Sean Mulcahy never officially met during high school. You know who he is, of course. Everybody on the Main Line knows Sean — a three-letter athlete at Haverford School who sang heartbreaking a cappella and hosted outrageous pool parties whenever his parents were in Bermuda or Maine. People went to Sean’s house to misbehave and get away with it. Some boys got away with more than they should have, but by all accounts, Sean is a good egg. A gentleman prepster. He was always a popular kid, but he’d been a legit local celebrity since last summer, when his face was plastered all over the news in connection to his sister’s shocking disappearance. And now here he is, wrapping you up in his warm, welcoming arms. You can’t stop yourself from imagining what he’ll say next… that he was hoping he’d see you here… that he always wanted to hang out in high school but the stars never aligned… that maybe all that changes tonight… that he’d love to buy you a proper drink and finally get to know you.
You would definitely cancel your ride for that.
But that’s not how it goes.
Sean is five inches taller than you and three times as drunk, so when he leans down to shout over the background noise, he wobbles treacherously above your head like a beach umbrella rattling in a heavy wind.
The magic dies fast. It’s not clear that he recognizes you at all, or that he’ll even remember you tomorrow. Forming sentences isn’t his strong suit right now, but he keeps trying anyway. You need to bail fast before this gets any more embarrassing, before that shaky beach umbrella catches a tailwind and goes airborne with the capacity to kill.
Poor guy. You wonder if Sean made himself the same promise you did — to not get too drunk tonight — or if maybe he’s every bit as sh–tfaced as he hoped he’d be. Who could blame him for that, after the terrible year he’s had?
Your phone buzzes again. You tell Sean your ride’s here, and he straightens up right away so you can slip past him out the door. A gentleman in defeat.
Outside on Lancaster Avenue, your ears ring against the cold, still silence. The sidewalk is empty except for the bouncer scrolling photos on his phone. Your ride is easy to spot, a small blue car with an Uber sticker in the window. The driver rolls down his window and says the magic words: “Sarah P.?”
You hop right in.
It’s even quieter inside the car. Either the radio’s broken or this guy’s a serial killer.
“You want a water?”
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God yes. He passes back a Dasani.
Your phone buzzes again. You read the message twice because it doesn’t make sense the first time. Maybe you’re even drunker than you thought. It says your Uber is arriving now.
Another car pulls up behind you as the one you’re in pulls away from the curb. Oops.
“Sorry, I think I’m in the wrong car.”
“I promise you’re not.”
“But my phone says—”
“No more talking, please.”
What the f—?
The car takes the first right onto a much darker side street. You look out the back window and spot the bouncer outside the Bar Five, still scrolling that phone. You wonder if he’ll realize you just got in the wrong car, or if he’d even do anything about it if he does. You consider yelling.
“Drink your water, Sarah.”
It’s so quiet in this car. Jesus Christ, why aren’t you yelling?
“I said drink your water.” He raises his right hand so you can see the gun he’s holding.
What. The. F—.
You twist the cap off the water bottle in your lap, eyes drifting upward, off the gun, until they meet the driver’s cold, empty eyes. Eyes you’re sure you don’t recognize. Eyes so hollow and soulless, you’d remember if you’d ever seen them before. Your gaze rises yet again, settling now on the rearview mirror, where you can see a sweet, confused, obsessively responsible freshman women’s distance runner looking back at you. You don’t recognize your own eyes either. You’ve never been this scared before.
“Last chance. Drink up.”
You promised yourself you wouldn’t drink too much tonight, but look at yourself now. You coward. You fool. You weak, pathetic loser.
You’re drinking like a goddamn fish.
If you’re ever going to yell, now’s your chance.
For god’s sake, Sarah, scream.
Excerpted from NOBODY DESERVES THIS © 2027 by Andy Callahan. Reprinted with permission from Celadon Books, an imprint of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC. All Rights Reserved.
Nobody Deserves This will be published on Jan. 19, 2027 and is now available for preorder, wherever books are sold.
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