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I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

The Cut by C.J. Dotson

Mogsy’s Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars

Genre: Horror

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: St. Martin’s Press (April 8, 2025)

Length: 304 pages

Author Information: Website | Twitter

The Cut by C.J. Dotson was a book where the cover caught my attention before I even knew what the story was about. I mean, look at it! There’s just something about the image of a slimy tentacle curling out of a shower drain that instantly gives off the heebie-jeebies, and as a horror fan, I was immediately curious. Was this cosmic horror? Or some kind of creature feature? Either way, I was all for it.

At its core, The Cut is a woman trying to rebuild her life after escaping an abusive relationship. After the death of her first husband, Sadie Miles thought she’d found a second chance at love with her new fiancé Sam. But as his words became increasingly controlling and his temper harder to predict, she came to realize she and her toddler would no longer be safe—especially after discovering she was pregnant. Packing up her daughter Izzy and some meager belongings, Sadie flees to a quaint little inn called the L’Arpin Hotel, nestled on the shores of Lake Erie. There, she lands a job as a housekeeper with a temporary live-in arrangement, where she hopes to hide from Sam until she makes enough to afford her own apartment.

From the very first day, however, it’s clear something is off about the hotel and the people who work there. In the dead of night, Sadie hears the unmistakable sound of splashing in the hotel pool, only to find it empty when she arrives to investigate. Yet the management’s response is dismissive, with hints that they might even be hiding something. And when Sadie presses the issue, she begins to uncover strange occurrences that only deepen her fears. Security footage goes missing. The owner of the property next door accuses the hotel of poisoning the land. A maid disappears, which only gets covered up. Then Sadie begins to see things—squirmy things wriggling out from faucets, inside takeout boxes, and seemingly out of the very walls of the hotel itself. Sadie may have escaped Sam for now, bringing her young daughter and unborn child to what she hoped was safety, but the events unfolding at L’Arpin suggest that danger has followed them, just in a different form.

Once the story got going, I found The Cut to be a suspense and unsettling slow burn read, and several main themes began emerging. Sadie is a pregnant and single mom who has no support from her own family, and as a result has to face the challenges of fleeing abuse on her own. Dotson leans hard into the protagonist’s harrowing emotions in order to create suspense but also mixes in the gothic atmosphere of a decaying hotel that’s long past its heyday. And yes, there is a bit of Lovecraftian influence as well, bringing that particular brand of weird fiction and horror element to northwestern Ohio.

As such, this book is definitely more of a “vibe” story, aiming for creeping dread rather than in-your-face terror or all-out gore. One of the strongest aspects of the book is now the supernatural tensions mirror the emotional tensions, playing them up in tandem. The threat of Sadie’s past is never far behind, but it’s also the everyday anxieties—whether she can be the mother her children need or hold down the job that’s keeping a roof over their heads—that weigh the heaviest on her mind. Still, that’s not to say there weren’t plenty of more traditional horror elements in the book, such as disturbing imagery. It’s just not over-the-top, which, as a fan of subtler horror, I appreciated a lot.

That said, The Cut didn’t quite do it for me in every area, especially when it came to the pacing and the ending. The first half dragged in places, with the “Sadie discovers something weird, staff then proceeds to gaslight Sadie and pretend it’s nothing” pattern becoming repetitive. Her character also frustrated me at times, as more than once her decision-making made me question her intelligence. And this might just be me, but I didn’t always care for the way Sadie’s relationship with Izzy was portrayed. At times, the little girl’s behavior bordered on grating, written in a way that made her come off more like a tantum machine than a real child. Sadie’s response to that was just as hokey, as is the obnoxious “stinker” nickname she has for Izzy, making it hard to fully buy into their dynamic. Finally, the ending felt rushed, with the resolution feeling overly tidy considering how much had been built up, especially with the supernatural elements.

Still, despite a few stumbles, there’s a lot to admire here, especially for what I believe is C.J. Dotson’s debut novel. No, it isn’t perfect, but nevertheless it’s an entertaining entry into the horror genre with a strong emotional core that I think many readers will probably be able to relate to. Fans of slow burn horror with a supernatural twist will find a lot to like here, and I’ll be keeping my eye out for what the author writes next.

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

The Notorious Virtues by Alwyn Hamilton

Mogsy’s Rating: 4.5 of 5 stars

Genre: Fantasy

Series: Book 1 of The Notorious Virtues

Publisher: Viking Books for Young Readers (April 1, 2025)

Length: 320 pages

Author Information: Website | Twitter

After years of hanging out on my Goodreads not-yet-released shelf, The Notorious Virtues, I have to say, was well worth the wait. Even though it’s been quite a while since I read Rebel of the Sands, Alwyn Hamilton clearly still has what it takes to deliver the first book of a riveting, character-driven saga that thrills with rich world-building and a high stakes plot.  The story had me hooked from page one, and I want more!

Told through the eyes of four main characters, the author transports us to the glittering city of Walstad where magic talks and where you come from means everything. No one understands this more than Honora “Nora” Holtzfall, who is born into one of the richest families, comfortably in line to inherit all her grandmother’s power and riches—that is, until her mother’s brutal murder throws the line of succession into jeopardy. Now Nora finds herself thrust back into a series of vicious Veritaz trials in which she must compete with her cousins for the right to become the Holtzfall heir. But to everyone’s surprise, an extra challenger has been added to the roster in the form of Ottoline “Lotte” Holtzfall, allegedly a long-lost member of the family who has been raised secretly at a convent. Confident in her skills and intelligence, Nora isn’t threatened at all by this newcomer, but unbeknownst to her, Lotte actually possesses one of the rarest, most powerful magical abilities found in the Holtzfall family bloodline.

Meanwhile, Nora has not forgotten what had set everything in motion in the first place and is determined to find her mother’s killer. The press has already all but named the Grimms as culprits, since the resistance group is known to target the aristocracy in their fight to achieve more equality between Walstad’s disparate classes. However, Nora is not convinced, and neither is August, a skeptical journalist who believes the murder was more than just a mugging gone wrong. Forming a tenuous alliance, the two of them set out to find the truth. And finally, we have Theo, our fourth POV character and a member of the Rydder Knights—an ancient order magically bound to serve the Holtzfall family ever since the first knight swore a sacred oath centuries ago. But over time, that relationship has begun to erode, and what was meant to ensure protection has been twisted into something more troubling, like forced obedience. Through Theo’s eyes, we see the cracks of that legacy in his struggle to decide whether to do his duty or to stand by his brother, the bodyguard of Nora’s mother, who has been missing since the night of her murder.

Where do I even start? There’s so much going for The Notorious Virtues, but I think I’ll have to begin with the characters because without them, this book wouldn’t have been anywhere near as impressive. Nora is one of our four main POVs, but as much as I enjoyed the others, I feel it’s only right to spotlight her in my review. Not only is she a favorite, she alone ties the whole story together. While she may cultivate her spoiled and empty-headed rich brat persona, she is in fact very intelligent and introspective, leading her enemies—and readers—to underestimate her. And even though she may come across as arrogant and proud of her own smarts and talents, it’s hard to hold that against her when that pride is well deserved. At the end of the day, it’s refreshing to read about a confident young woman who is comfortable in her own skin, and later, she earns even more points by using that charisma to try to make Walstad a better place for all.

Then, there’s the plot. Finally, a YA novel that isn’t on rails and utterly predictable right out of the gate. That isn’t to say The Notorious Virtues uses completely new ideas, but wherever it borrows ideas from well-tread territory, it at least tries to do something different and unique with them. It helped that there were multiple POVs, and that each character represented a very different way of life in Walstad. As a result, each of them also had very different motivations, keeping the story interesting. Then there was the political backdrop and the social divisions, with the Hottzfall family at the center looming over all the other districts. Thematically, this led to a thoughtful exploration of wealth, privilege, and status—how these forces shape societal power structures, especially in a world where magic tends to be inherited and often weaponized to maintain control. Even as the Veritaz trials took center stage, I found myself equally captivated by the larger conflicts brewing beneath the surface, such as the rise of the Grimms and their radical resistance against the Holtzfall dynasty.

At the end of the day, I had a great time reading The Notorious Virtues. My only gripe might be that a couple of the main POVs, especially Theo’s, might need a little more attention to bring them up to a similar level of characterization as Nora or Lotte. But overall, I loved the story, I loved the setting, and I particularly enjoyed the writing. All of it was surprisingly in-depth and well-crafted for a YA novel, but it was also clear Alwyn Hamilton put a lot of care into making it a reality. I’m glad that all her time and work paid off. Looking forward to more in the series.

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

The Fourth Consort by Edward Ashton

Mogsy’s Rating (Overall): 3.5 of 5 stars

Genre: Science Fiction

Series: Stand Alone/Book 1

Publisher: Macmillan Audio (February 25, 2025)

Length: 8 hrs and 25 mins

Narrator: Barrie Kreinik

I became a fan of Edward Ashton after his action sci-fi adventure Mickey7 impressed me with its sense of humor, even when dealing with a subject like existential dread. Naturally, when I heard about The Fourth Consort, I was curious to see what it’s all about.

The story follows Dalton Greaves, who has been living adrift ever since the death of his father. All this changes one night in a bar, when, after his girlfriend dumps him, he is approached by Neera, a representative of the Unity who offers him a job. It’s an opportunity for Dalton to forget his aimless life on Earth and become a part of something bigger, joining an organization with a mission for peacekeeping and cooperation to unite all sentient beings in the galaxy. Since there’s nothing left tying him to his old life and plenty to gain from the new gig, Dalton agrees.

However, the truth is much less glamorous. The Unity turns out to be not so noble after all, once Dalton gets a glimpse behind the curtains and sees how things really are. The galaxy’s true benefactors are in fact the Assembly, bitter rivals of the Unity who view Dalton and Neera with suspicion. After a disastrous encounter in orbit leaves the two humans stranded on a newly discovered world, Dalton suddenly finds himself separated from Neera’s protection and thrust into the clutches of the planet’s native inhabitants, whose ruling queen claims him as her consort—her fourth one, as it turns out. Meanwhile, stuck at court with him is also an alien named Breaker, a stickman who fights on behalf of the Assembly. Caught reluctantly in the politics of his role where enemies can strike from any direction, Dalton must figure out how to navigate this strange new world and survive Neera’s scheming even as she tries to rescue him.

At its core, The Fourth Consort is a quirky sci-fi novel that doesn’t take itself too seriously—definitely similar in tone to the Mickey7 series, which is good news if that’s what you were looking for. Ashton’s writing style is as sharp and efficient as ever, keeping the story moving along at a fast clip. The humor is also on point with plenty of witty banter and absurd moments, especially when alien cultures collide, often leading to Dalton trading barbs with his spicy translator AI.

But for its quick pacing and super lean prose which doesn’t bog itself down with unnecessary exposition, the story does sometimes feel a little too breezy for its own good. The world-building, for instance, is intriguing but on the lighter side, leaving many questions and difficulties envisioning the creatures and worlds being described. I never got a strong sense of the alien cultures and what makes them genuinely unique, and similarly, the political intrigue felt tacked on rather than fully integrated. Likewise, character development is another area that felt a little sparse, and although Dalton himself is a solid protagonist, he lacked agency and seemed carried along by events, robbing his personality of opportunities to shine.

This made the overall story arc feel kind of shallow and undercooked. While the plot featured conflicts aplenty, there was hardly any tension at all as I was never made to believe our protagonist was ever really in trouble. If anything, Breaker, the Assembly shock trooper, felt more developed even though we mainly got to know him through conversations filtered across broken translations. Sure, the occasional flashback to Dalton’s past helped, but many of them felt like flavor text and completely unnecessary, and I’m not sure that these little snippets featuring his pre-Unity days were quite worth the distraction.

That said, hopefully I didn’t come off as too negative, as The Fourth Consort actually turned out to be a very enjoyable and fun read, especially the audio book version whose narrator Barrie Kreinik gave a lively performance. The pacing was tight, the humor sharp, and I loved the clever dialogue. However, while the book is entertaining in the moment, I don’t think it will leave a lasting impression. If the author decides to continue Dalton’s tale, I’d be interested to see where he ends up taking things, but as it stands, this one gets a solid 3.5 stars.

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

A Drop of Corruption by Robert Jackson Bennett

Mogsy’s Rating: 5 of 5 stars

Genre: Fantasy, Mystery

Series: Book 2 of Shadow of the Leviathan

Publisher: Del Rey (April 1, 2025)

Length: 480 pages

Author Information: Website

Last year, Robert Jackson Bennett’s The Tainted Cup was one of my favorite reads, and it appears I wasn’t alone in that sentiment based on all the love that’s been showered on the book from across the board. Naturally, its sequel Drop of Corruption became one of my most anticipated releases in 2025, and believe me, I had high expectations. Still, somehow they were exceeded in every way.

This time, Ana Dolabra and her assistant Dinios Kol find themselves dispatched to Yarrowdale, a distant canton situated on the edge of the Khanum Empire, where much of the population takes pride in its independence. Imperial authority might not hold much sway here, but when one of their treasury officers disappears suddenly, the investigators want to know how and why. But what initially appears to be a missing person case quickly turns into a murder investigation as body parts are discovered, and everywhere Ana and Din turn, mysterious forces seem bent on standing in their path.

Eventually, our protagonists determine that their missing official is not just a victim but a casualty in a far greater conspiracy. With tensions already running high in Yarrowdale over the canton’s impending integration into the Khanum, the implications of their work become even more dire. Din and Ana follow clues to the Shroud, where fallen leviathans—gargantuan monsters that live beyond the massive seawalls—are processed to harvest the rare magic within them that helps power the empire. The subsequent collapse would be devastating and wide-ranging should this major industry falter, and time is running out to get to the bottom of the mystery.

What can I say, other than I loved everything about this book! While the quality of sequels can be touch and go, Bennett took what worked in The Tainted Cup and either carried on those trends or made them even better. Nothing makes me happier than a fantasy mystery I can completely lose myself in, and A Drop of Corruption flawlessly balances its detective elements with its ever-expanding world-building to deliver a riveting plot that gripped me from the first page and never let up. Take the best parts of the epic fantasy and police procedural genres, blend them together, and this is what you get.

But as I wrote in my review for the first book, the stars of the show are Din and Ana, and that remains true. I was happy to see that the Holmes/Watson dynamic is as strong as ever, which really drives the series with their contrasting personalities. The two of them have grown closer since the beginning of their partnership, but even as some of Din’s idealism has given way to a pragmatism that makes him more competent, he still frequently suffers the brunt of Ana’s sharp wit, impatience, and complete disregard for social niceties. But if Din is the heart, Ana is the razor-sharp mind—a force to be reckoned with, and utterly fascinating to watch. And yet, for all her intellect, she is not infallible, which becomes dangerously clear as this tough case exposes the cracks in her armor.

Of course, what further elevates this novel beyond a clever mystery fantasy story is its world-building. Beyond the storytelling, A Drop of Corruption excels in expanding what we know of the Khanum Empire, in areas like politics, culture, and history. The magic system is not just window dressing; it’s infused into the very bones of these books, and into the very mechanics of our characters’ investigation. The series’ name is Shadow of the Leviathan, and it appears with each installment, we are witnessing just how integral these creatures are to everything we know about this world.

By the time we got to the resolution, I was completely sold. Robert Jackson Bennett has proven yet again what a talented storyteller he is, by gifting fantasy mystery fans with a wildly imaginative series that is as intricate as anything found in a classic whodunit. I have to say, The Tainted Cup set a high bar, but A Drop of Corruption sails over it with ease. This trilogy is shaping up to be an all-time favorite, and you can bet I’ll be first in line when the final volume drops.

More on The BiblioSanctum:
Review of The Tainted Cup (Book 1)

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

The Scorpion and the Night Blossom by Amélie Wen Zhao

Mogsy’s Rating: 3 of 5 stars

Genre: Young Adult, Fantasy

Series: Book 1 of The Three Realms Duology

Publisher: Delacorte Press (March 4, 2025)

Length: 400 pages

Author Information: Website

In The Scorpion and the Night Blossom by Amélie Wen Zhao, our protagonist Àn’yīng is a young warrior trained in a highly specialized kind of martial art which blends magic and sigils. In her world, survival demands strength, as the land is plagued by mó, a kind of soul-devouring demon that preys on mortals. It is a terrible reality that Àn’yīng knows all too well. Not long ago, her own family was torn apart when it was attacked by a powerful mó, which killed her father and left her month with an even crueler fate. Drained of her life force, the once vibrant woman is now an empty shell of her former self, slowly wasting away. Without intervention, Àn’yīng knows her mother will surely die.

However, hope comes in the form of the deadly Immortality Trials, a competition held by the immortals in their warded realm. The winner who manages to conquer the series of grueling tasks will receive a pill of eternal life, which Àn’yīng believes can save her mother. Determined to claim the prize, she embarks on the journey to enter the trials, knowing that countless other practitioners will be fighting against her for the same reward. One of them is Yu’chén, a handsome rival whose abilities clearly outshine Àn’yīng’s, but for some mysterious reason still agrees to form an alliance. As the competition heats up, with the trials becoming increasingly more demanding, our protagonist must decide whether she can trust her new teammate even as she finds herself torn between her hatred of demons and the undeniable pull she feels toward Yù’chén.

I really wish I could have rated The Scorpion and the Night Blossom more, and maybe if this hadn’t been the umpteenth fantasy romance story I’ve read about a heroine who must enter a life-or-death competition to retrieve some magical lifechanging trinket, I might have. But the current state of YA fiction can be boiled down to authors repurposing the same paint-by-numbers formula again and again, just with some new extra ingredient thrown in each time. In this case, we have a war-torn world, a series of dangerous trials, and a brooding love interest. The “something new” here is the Chinese-inspired mythology and the atmospheric descriptions of the immortal realm and the mó.

Hence I disagree with many of the other reviews here that the earlier parts of the novel were the strongest, while the rest of it was subpar. For me it was the opposite—the beginning was laughably predictable, clichéd, and boring. Àn’yīng’s tale was the same one I’ve read countless times before, only dressed up in a different package. I almost threw in the towel early, especially once she encountered Yù’chén, who was an interesting character, but their dynamic likewise follows a familiar pattern that brings nothing new to the table, right down to him giving our protagonist an annoyingly patronizing nickname.

And while I did appreciate the world-building, the story leans hard into Asian mythology tropes to paint readers a very superficial or kitschy version of the culture. I guess this truly is for the C-Drama girlies, as the dedication suggests–which, I confess, I am not. But if you are, then I can see The Scorpion and the Night Blossom being greatly appealing with its popcorn-y soap opera vibes. Plus, the final act does manage to shake things up. At this point, the plot finally steps away from its formulaic structure, delivering some unexpected twists and raising the stakes in a meaningful way. Although this renewed energy might have come too late in the book, I the last quarter left me cheering at how things were finally getting more unpredictable and interesting.

Overall, The Scorpion and the Night Blossom might have taken its sweet time freeing itself from the genre’s formulaic shackles, but eventually the predictable elements gave way to more imaginative storytelling. It’s a solid, if not groundbreaking, entry into YA fantasy. And though I wasn’t completely won over, the ending has me curious enough to see where the sequel takes the story, especially as this is the first half of a duology.

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

Once Was Willem by M.R. Carey

Mogsy’s Rating: 3 of 5 stars

Genre: Horror, Historical Fiction

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Orbit (March 4, 2025)

Length: 320 pages

Author Information: Website | Twitter

I think I may be in the minority on this one, but while I generally love the dark, thought-provoking works of M.R. Carey, I struggled to get into Once Was Willem. Granted, the novel was another testament to the author’s storytelling abilities, tackling a medieval horror fantasy told in a unique narrative voice. However, the style and structure of the book also made it difficult to parse at times, and this is something you have to get used to, or—if you’re like me—you just can’t.

Set in the mid-12th century, the story begins in a poor peasant village where the untimely death of a young boy named Willem leads his parents on a misguided attempt to bring him back. They turn to a powerful sorcerer named Cain Caradoc, who promises that he can help resurrect their son. However, what he failed to mention is that he will also be taking a piece of Willem’s soul as his price, and that the boy will come back as a grotesque shell of who he once was, becoming a monstrosity lingering between life and undeath. Horrified by the creature that once was their beloved son, his mother and father are joined by the rest of the villagers in driving Willem out.

Exiled, Willem makes his home in the surrounding woods, but he finds he is not alone. Others like him have taken refuge in the wilderness, among them individuals deemed oddities who have also been cast out—shapeshifters, elemental creatures, monsters, and spirits. Together, they form a band of seven to keep each other safe, eventually bringing the fight to Caradoc, whose nefarious plans have led him to set his sights on more than the souls of dead children. As the sorcerer’s magic threatens the villages and the residents turn to those they’ve cast out for assistance, Willem and his companions must confront the enemy in a final battle that not only determines the fates of the villagers but of the afterlife itself.

To be honest, although I appreciated the folklore and found family themes of Once of Willem, the book starts off slowly, and its ponderous pacing is further exacerbated by the archaic writing style. Indeed, the novel’s distinct narrative style is a double-edged sword, at once its greatest strength and greatest weakness. The story reads like a memoir told by Willem himself, but much like his physical body, his mind is also neither here nor there. He jumps around, meanders, inserting fragments of memory or asides at seemingly random places. Like the old-timey, period-appropriate prose, Willem’s voice makes this story feel authentic and immersive, but it is also very demanding on readers.

That said, Willem’s character arc is deeply moving, driven by his relatable need for acceptance and purpose. Afterall, everyone understands what it means to belong and to be accepted. It is universal, and it is human. Brought back to life only to be discarded by his own people, Willem also struggles with the meaning of his existence. Later, he finds solace in his group of companions that he meets in the wilderness. Bound not by blood but by a shared understanding, their camaraderie is truly the heart and soul of the story, bringing warmth and depth to an otherwise bleak tale. These characters shine whenever they are on the page, and unfortunately, their togetherness feels underused, making me wish we saw more of those connections.

In various reviews, I’ve seen Once Was Willem described as medieval Frankenstein meets The Magnificent Seven. Given its elements, I have to say these are good comparisons, and you should definitely check it out if you are interested in a unique blend of horror, folklore, and adventure. However, it can also be a frustrating read, especially if you prefer your stories to be more structured and organized. The dense prose can also present a challenge, and in fact, I found it more enjoyable after a while to switch to the audiobook, which made it easier to get into the story. Ultimately, I was glad I finished this, but it doesn’t quite reach the heights of M.R. Carey’s more readable books.

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

The Haunting of Room 904 by Erika T. Wurth

Mogsy’s Rating (Overall): 1.5 of 5 stars

Genre: Horror, Mystery

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Macmillan Audio (March 18, 2025)

Length: 9 hrs and 48 mins

Author Information: Website

At first, I was very excited to pick up The Haunting of Room 904. I mean, come on! Even the title sounded awesome. What could possibly go wrong with the promise of a haunted hotel story? Well, apparently, quite a whole lot. And when I looked up the author’s information, I was actually surprised to find out that this was not Erika T. Wurth’s first novel, because both the writing and plotting felt amateurish in a disjointed, sloppy way, which unfortunately kept the novel from ever fully realizing its ambitious premise.

The story follows Olivia Becente, a struggling academic who has turned to capitalizing on her clairvoyant gifts to make ends meet. Now a paranormal investigator, she works with clients who hire her to commune with the dead and occasionally takes on cases that involve neutralizing the dangerous effects of haunted or possessed items. But the truth is, Olivia has a pretty haunted history herself. Ever since the unexpected suicide of her sister Naiche, Olivia can’t stop thinking about her or any of unexplainable circumstances around how she died.

This is why, years later, when she is contacted by the Brown Palace hotel about a new case, Olivia immediately agrees to investigate. Not only is it one of the most recognizable landmarks in Denver, but the hotel is also the one in which Naiche killed herself in Room 904. It comes to light that every five years, a woman mysteriously dies in that room, no matter what the hotel does to prevent it from happening, even sealing it off altogether. As Olivia and her friends try to make sense of these connections, she receives a disturbing call from her mother, sounding distressed and confused, revealing that she has somehow checked into Room 904—despite having no recollection of how she got there. Now racing against the clock, Olivia’s investigation brings her to confront everything from a secret cult to the mysteries of an ancient power.

It honestly annoys me whenever a book with an amazing premise manages to completely unravel under the weight of its own ambition. It’s a shame because The Haunting of Room 904 could have been great, but what we get instead is an overstuffed narrative with simply too much happening at once. Rather than having things unfold naturally, the novel stumbles from one subplot to another like an easily distracted toddler. Things start off smoothly with Olivia’s investigation into a haunting but they quickly devolve from there, shifting suddenly to her family problems, then to her dealing with a stalker ex, and out of the blue a romantic development gets thrown in as well. There’s enough silly drama here to fill ten books, but instead everything is crammed together in a way that leaves everything feeling half-baked.

On top of that, the protagonist Olivia is the worst kind of idiot, someone who is constantly positioning herself as the smartest person in the room, yet her decisions contradict that perception at every turn. In one egregious example, she moralizes about guns only to justify getting a concealed carry permit because she believes her situation is unique, yet fails to arm herself when it critically mattered, resulting in the gun being turned on her by the very person she wanted to protect herself from—all because she set a glaringly obvious passcode on her safe. She’s also unbearably judgmental of others yet blind to her own flaws, making her difficult to root for. Partly, I think this in part is due to the book seeming more concerned with checking identity boxes and inserting social commentary than telling a compelling story. For example, every character’s race, gender, background, disability, etc. is noted, even when it’s completely irrelevant to the plot. The dialogue suffers greatly because of this too, because no one really talks the way these characters do. In some of their interactions, rather than an organic conversation, they come across more like stilted, overly self-aware message pushing instead.

Then there’s the matter of character development—or lack thereof. Olivia’s friends are little more than stock archetypes, defined by their identity labels above and further slotted into cookie cutter type caricatures: Genius Loudmouth Friend A, Sensitive Supportive Friend B, etc. And obviously, we mustn’t forget the dastardly ex-boyfriend who is cartoonishly villainous. But of course, Olivia being Olivia, she immediately gets the googly eyes for the next man who gives her attention, never mind that he’s a suspiciously charismatic leader of a fucking cult! Remember though, Olivia isn’t too bright, and the fact the guy is hot and fits the dark, broody goth aesthetic means that he gets a pass.

As if the disjointed plot and shallow characters weren’t bad enough, the writing itself is a hot mess. Transitions between events are choppy, making it a pain to follow the story. The pacing is also all over the place. The horror elements, which should have been at the forefront, feel tacked on and underdeveloped. What could have been an intense, mysterious, and atmospheric ghost story instead reads like a bland, dime-store thriller with some paranormal elements hastily sprinkled in. Any sense of suspense or dread is completely lost.

Ultimately, The Haunting of Room 904 is a book that had all the ingredients (one might even argue too many ingredients) for a creepy and engaging horror novel with some thriller elements mixed in. However, the failure to pull all these pieces together in a cohesive and coherent manner resulted in a disappointing read where the core mystery lacked direction and focus in its execution. Sadly, the book started out strong, but by the end, it simply fell apart under the weight of all its missteps.

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

White Line Fever by K.C. Jones

Mogsy’s Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars

Genre: Horror

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Nightfire (March 18, 2025)

Length: 368 pages

Author Information: Website

When it comes to horror stories, a girls’ weekend road trip meets a haunted highway sounds like it would be a match made in heaven. This is essentially the premise of K.C. Jones’ White Line Fever, which made me very excited to read it. But while the book is brimming with terrifying potential and starts off on the right track, it struggles to maintain that momentum, and by the end, I found myself more frustrated than thrilled.

The book follows Livia and her lifelong friends Ash, Mo, and Becka, who have affectionately called themselves “The Scoundrels” ever since their childhood days of adventure and mischief. As the story begins, Livia is passing another normal day doing laundry when she makes a devastating discovery while emptying her husband’s pants pockets—an unfamiliar condom wrapper, torn open. The shocking revelation of his infidelity immediately plunges Livia into a dark place. After growing up in an abusive home and eventually escaping her cruel and violent father, she’d thought she finally found happiness. Alas, it was not to be. Needing to get away, Livia turns to her old trio of friends, who suggest taking a road trip into the Oregon wilderness where they can all benefit from some quiet time away from life’s ugly realities.

However, their trip takes a dark turn when an unsettling encounter with an aggressive driver in a pickup truck forces them to take a shortcut through the backroads, onto County Road 951—known to locals as The Devil’s Driveway. Short as it may be, countless tragedies have occurred on this road, spawning dozens of urban legends about it and earning it its sinister nickname. Initially unfazed, the group is just glad to be back on schedule, but after a while, strange things start happening that make them question their sanity. All of them experience losing time and begin having nightmarish visions, and after driving for what seems like hours, they never seem to make progress off this lonely stretch of blacktop that’s only supposedly 15 miles long. Desperation and panic set in as they eventually realize they are trapped with no way to escape.

As this surreal ride unfolds, the novel shifts between past and present, allowing readers a glimpse into the characters’ traumatic pasts that have shaped each of them. Especially prominent are flashbacks to Livia’s childhood, which was spent in the small, insular town of Newberry. There, she and her mother lived in constant fear under the brutal authority of her father, who ran an auto shop and fixed up junk cars. For relief, Livia often sought the company of her friends, including sisters Ash and Mo, and hung out secretly in the junkyard. At some point, though, all of them have come up against the threat of Livia’s father, whose shadow looms over them even after all these years.

At first, this back and forth proved generally effective at creating an unsettling atmosphere and establishes reasons for Livia’s breakdown following the implosion of her marriage. The flashbacks were also welcome breaks in the present timeline in which the intro mainly featured the women driving and talking. However, this pattern quickly became repetitive, resulting in a long, drawn-out buildup period that ruined the eventual payoff. For one, the plot repeatedly teases the horror elements, then pulls back just as they start getting interesting. For another, the characters gradually reveal themselves to be frustratingly dense, doing more bickering than solving problems even as their situation went downhill. Simply put, after a while I just got tired of being jerked around and spending time with these moronic ladies.

Don’t get me wrong. Annoying characters and wonky pacing aside, the book is still pretty solid. But I do think the best parts came too late, especially towards the end when the group meets up with another character whose part in the story was actually introduced in the prologue. Still, while this connection brought the cohesion which had been lacking back to the book, it wasn’t enough to redeem all its earlier missteps. In fact, here the story veered into even weirder, more confusing territory, making for an interesting but somewhat disjointed conclusion.

In the end, White Line Fever is a flawed horror novel which excels in certain areas but falls short in others. But although the thrills didn’t live up to the premise, it is still worth checking out if you enjoy unsettling character-driven stories, and the concept of an all-female cast trapped in a supernatural horror predicament makes me think this would appeal to fans of Rachel Harrison.

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

The Gate of the Feral Gods by Matt Dinniman

Mogsy’s Rating: 5 of 5 stars

Genre: Fantasy, Science Fiction

Series: Book 4 of Dungeon Crawler Carl

Publisher: Ace (March 11, 2025)

Length: 608 pages

Author Information: Website

There’s LitRPG, and then there’s Dungeon Crawler Carl. In fact, Matt Dinniman may have forever ruined this genre for me, as I don’t think I’ll ever find a series as fun and amazing. The Gate of the Feral Gods is the fourth installment, but there’s no slowing down here. Instead, we’re charging full steam ahead, plunging deeper into the chaos!

The story picks right up from where things left off in The Dungeon Anarchist’s Cookbook, joining Carl and his larger-than-life feline companion, Princess Donut, as they descend deeper into the dungeon in their continued fight for survival. Now on the fifth floor, the rules shift dramatically, presenting an entirely new set of challenges. This level introduces a unique twist: all crawlers are separated into individual biome-themed “bubbles” which are scattered across four quadrants of the game world. Unfortunately for Carl and Donut, this means being cut off from their friends, and to make matters worse, they won’t be able to access the next floor until all the objectives in their bubble are met. As this is not something they can do on their own, success hinges upon finding new allies—and fast.

By now, we’re starting to see a pattern emerge, with each level introducing a distinct gaming mechanic. In many ways, the fifth floor mirrors an epic game of Capture the Flag, in which crawlers are randomly assigned to the different bubbles, such as air, water, land, and deep ocean. Each biome also features their own set of dangers, mobs, and goals. The only way to break free is to destroy the castles in their respective bubbles, which would then allow crawlers to assist others in doing the same. But of course, Carl, Donut, and their new party member Katia have landed in one of the toughest bubbles, where the challenges are more difficult and the odds against them are stacked higher than ever. Still, as we all know, it will take much more than that to break their spirit.

The Gate of the Feral Gods was yet another fantastic sequel, and I just love cracking open each book to discover what awesome adventure awaits us next. What makes these books so addictive and so entertaining is the way each volume builds upon the ones that came before, driving up the excitement while still maintaining the humor, heart, and thrilling action. These books are laugh-out-loud funny, and I’m always surprised at Carl’s ingenious solutions to seemingly impossible situations. I’m also floored by the sheer creativity in everything from small-scale puzzles in the dungeon to the overarching intrigue of who or what in the great wide universe is actually in control of the crawl.

It’s honestly impressive how Dinniman can manage to juggle so many moving pieces of the storyline all at once. You’ve got multiple character arcs unfolding simultaneously, all their interconnected plotlines, a dungeon and its AI that are constantly shifting in new and unexpected ways, various RPG mechanics that are expanding as the characters get stronger, plus an intergalactic political drama playing out in the background to boot! Whew! With so much happening at once, one thing for sure is that you’ll never be bored, and what’s more, each storyline is given the time and attention it deserves. True, sometimes things can feel a little overwhelming, but so far, the author seems quite diligent in resolving story threads so that readers aren’t left hanging.

But truly, what sets Dungeon Crawler Carl apart is its character development. Yes, we get new quest lines, new boss fights, and plenty of the crazy-ass dungeon-crawling mayhem that can only come from the mind of Matt Dinniman, but we also get to see Carl and Donut’s relationships evolve—both with each other and with the ever-expanding cast of allies and adversaries. In some ways, this series has the feel of a favorite soap opera, where I just can’t wait to dive back in to catch up with all the characters.

That said, things get pretty bleak for some of them. It’s a sad fact that none of the side characters are truly safe, and even Carl and Donut get put through the wringer, as they adapt to increasingly cruel and brutal challenges. Our protagonist has repeatedly sworn that the dungeon will not break him, but with each new level, the physical and psychological toll on him only seems to get worse. Still, whenever circumstances start to look dire, there’s always much needed levity to pull us out—often thanks to Donut and her impeccable talent for saying the most absurd things at the most inopportune times.

When all is said and done, I think The Gate of the Feral Gods might be my favorite book of the series so far, delivering on every front and exceeding expectations in every way. This book has everything readers love about Dungeon Crawler Carl—pulse-pounding action, gut-busting humor, and surprisingly deep emotional moments—all wrapped up in an explosive plot that’s impossible to put down. It’s a must read for fans, obviously. And if you haven’t started this series yet, don’t wait! With the re-issuing of all the books, there’s no better time to jump in.

More on The BiblioSanctum:
Review of Dungeon Crawler Carl (Book 1)
Review of Carl’s Doomsday Scenario (Book 2)
Review of The Dungeon Anarchist’s Cookbook (Book 3)

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

The Buffalo Hunter Hunter by Stephen Graham Jones

Mogsy’s Rating: 4.5 of 5 stars

Genre: Horror

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Saga Press (March 18, 2025)

Length: 448 pages

Author Information: Website

At its heart, The Buffalo Hunter Hunter may be a vampire novel, but it’s about so much more that calling it such would be doing it a great disservice. Yes, the story involves undead, blood-drinking creatures. However, it is also a meditation on the scars of history, and, like any good western, features a tale of vengeance. In short, Stephen Graham Jones has created something far more complex than your typical vampire horror here.

The novel opens in 2012 with an introduction to Etsy Beaucarne, a junior professor at the University of Wyoming who is desperately looking for a way to revitalize her career. Her opportunity arrives when she comes into possession of a long-lost journal belonging to her great-great-grandfather, a Lutheran priest who lived in the American West in the early 1900s. Within its pages, Arthur Beaucarne had transcribed a stunning confession from a Blackfeet man named Good Stab who claimed to be an immortal vampire.

Through Good Stab’s recorded testimony, readers are plunged even farther back in time to the brutal winter of 1870, when US Army soldiers carried out the Marias Massacre that left hundreds of his people dead. Good Stab, one of the few survivors, swore that he would get his revenge, spending the next few decades hunting down those responsible. Yet his survival came at a heavy price. After losing his family, his home, and even his place in the world, Good Stab’s path changes his life forever. Possessed of both immense power and an insatiable hunger, he knows what happened to him is a curse—but it’s also one he can wield as a weapon against those who destroyed everything he once knew.

From the start, The Buffalo Hunter Hunter’s frame structure brings to mind Dracula, which is not the only nod to the classic. Stephen Graham Jones continues his homage with the epistolary style format, enhancing the story’s eerie, almost folktales-y like atmosphere. Despite its supernatural elements though, some of the most disturbing aspects of the novel are the parts rooted in reality—particularly the history of Indigenous genocide and the annihilation of the buffalo.

In Good Stab’s account, he wasn’t merely seeking revenge for the slaughter of his people, but also for the destruction of his whole way of life. His vampirism not only holds him forever in a state of constant hunger but also traps him in an endless cycle of rage and grief. Immortality offers him no peace but instead forces him to witness more loss as the years stretch on. This makes Good Stab one of the most interesting and tragic characters I’ve ever encountered. He isn’t a hero or a villain—just a man and then a creature driven by circumstance.

Like most vampire stories, The Buffalo Hunter Hunter is unsurprisingly violent and gory. That said, its horror manifests itself in lowkey, slow-burn ways as well. The author’s prose captures the harshness of the frontier, an unforgiving landscape where you are constantly struggling to survive. Though the pacing may be demanding at times, this story simply must be experienced on its own terms, requiring your full attention. With its mix of so many elements from history, mythology, and horror, this is not a book to be rushed but to be absorbed slowly, allowing its haunting themes to fully take hold.

If I had any criticisms at all, it would be that some parts of the story become repetitive at times, especially with regards to the interactions between Arthur and Good Stab. While this back and forth served to reinforce the narrative style, I think the novel could have packed the same emotion punch without being quite so long, and some streamlining would have been beneficial.

In the end, I absolutely loved The Buffalo Hunter Hunter, as in, it just might be my favorite book by the author yet. While it’s not the easiest read, the end results are satisfying and rewarding. Stephen Graham Jones’ storytelling skills are on full display here, and it would make me very happy to see him tackle more historical horror like this sin the future. Granted, I haven’t enjoyed everything he’s written, but when he’s good, he very good. And with this novel, he’s proven once again why he is one of the most important voices in the genre today. If you enjoy horror with depth, especially one exploring a dark chapter of American history, this is a must read.

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

Rose of Jericho by Alex Grecian

Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars

Genre: Horror

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Nightfire (March 11, 2025)

Length: 352 pages

Author Information: Website

Rose of Jericho by Alex Grecian returns to the dark and supernatural world first introduced in Red Rabbit, his 1880s western horror novel. While this is technically a follow-up that revisits the witchy trio of Sadie Grace, Rabbit, and Rose, it still stands solidly on its own, allowing new readers to jump in without needing prior knowledge. And personally, I found this new book to be even stronger and more immersive than its predecessor.

The book begins with a tragedy. A man named Moses Burke loses both his beloved wife and newborn child, and in his grief, takes on Death himself and murders him. Readers are transported back to the remote village of Ascension, Massachusetts, where the result of Death’s absence is subsequently illustrated in a bizarre string of events that go against the natural order. A gruesome accident that should have killed a boy instead leaves him walking around with a hole in his chest. Likewise, a terminally ill woman finds that the progression of her disease has halted, so she can suddenly get out of bed and go about her day. A hanged man calls out while still hanging from the noose, even with his neck broken and eyes pecked out by crows. And on and on it goes. It appears people can no longer die! While this revelation is met with confusion, there is also no small amount of excitement.

However, the longer this reality persists, the more the town and its residents are feeling its dark effects. Inside, those who should have been dead are changing, becoming more dangerous. Newly arrived in town, Rabbit, Sadie Grace, and Rose watch as chaos descends upon Ascension. As the three women attempt to find out what’s going on, they must also contend with the restless entities that haunt Bethany Hall, the old house they are staying in while they help take care of Rose’s sick cousin.

Unsurprisingly, Rose of Jericho delves into some thought-provoking themes, questioning the significance of mortality by exploring the balance between life and death. The Grim Reaper is literally killed off in a fit of rage, and the ripples created by this one impulsive act result in grave consequences for everyone on the planet. For the deeply religious townsfolk of Ascension, you can just imagine their struggle to reconcile their beliefs with what’s happening around them, and though readers only get to see the effects on this one little slice of the world, we can easily surmise that all hell has broken loose across the globe as well.

Speaking of Ascension, the author also does a fantastic job of bringing the town to life, making it feel even more vivid and immersive than I remember from Red Rabbit. This sort-of sequel gave us a chance to see more of the town, providing a deeper look into its people, customs, and day-to-day struggles—though admittedly, describing their “daily life” takes on a more sinister meaning when we’re talking about a world where no on can truly die. As the characters go on existing in this strange limbo, we watch some of them embrace what they believe is a gift or miracle, while others who are more skeptical end up succumbing to fear and paranoia.

All in all, Rose of Jericho is a unique dark fantasy novel that balances horror and grim humor while providing plenty of food for thought. The overall vibe is a mixture of eerie gothic and surreal western, presenting a weird but refreshing premise that keeps the story engaging and unpredictable. I found Alex Grecian’s prose and character work to be much stronger here than in Red Rabbit, but whether you’re returning to this world or a complete newcomer, I believe Rose of Jericho is an interesting and strange journey worth taking.

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

Murder by Memory by Olivia Waite

Mogsy’s Rating: 3 of 5 stars 

Genre: Science Fiction, Mystery

Series: Book 1 of Dorothy Gentleman

Publisher: Tordotcom (March 18, 2025)

Length: 325 pages

Author Information: Website | Twitter

I’d never read Olivia Waite before, but apparently she’s known for her romance writing. In Murder by Memory, she’s managed to successfully blend elements of a love story with a cozy mystery set on a generation ship—not genres you often see thrown together in the same mix. Still, while tackling it in novella form may have made this one a quick read, I think the shorter length probably hobbled its potential.

The story kicks off when Dorothy Gentleman, detective on starship H.M.S. Fairweather, wakes up unexpectedly in the middle of their centuries-long journey. In addition to thousands of passengers, the vessel is also carrying a vast digital archive, the “Library”, where their memories have been uploaded and stored in “books.” These books can be updated at any time, ready to be downloaded into a person’s new body that is provided once their old one dies.

When Dorothy awakens, however, she had not expected to be downloaded into a new body so soon, for she had chosen to shelve her memories for a few years. Not only that, but the new body she finds herself in is not her own, but a stranger’s named Gloria. The ship’s A.I. informs our protagonist that there has been a death on the ship, and someone has also been deleting memory archives from the Library. Along with the unusual circumstances she now finds herself in, these incidents are more than likely connected. To solve the murder and figure out why her memory book was erased—which has resulted her being in the wrong body—Dorothy must step into her detective shoes and investigate, using her skills and the element of surprise to her advantage.

Without a doubt, the greatest strength in Murder by Memory is the world-building. While the concept of effective immortality by uploading the consciousness and downloading it into new bodies isn’t new, I have never seen it used in a cozy setting like this. In fact, the stories I’ve read that are set on generation ships tend not to be very pleasant, weighed down by themes like scarcity and uncertainty. But the world Waite has created is perfectly copacetic. Which is why the idea of a murder, especially one like this, feels like such a big deal.

The mystery plot itself was also solid, but unfortunately, the constraints of the novella’s short length were noticeable. There was no room for the story to be anything but straightforward, making the investigation feel rushed and lacking in complexity. While we moved quickly from clue to clue, the absence of any intrigue left the resolution feeling a bit sudden and too easy. Likewise, Dorothy was an enjoyable protagonist, and there were certainly moments of humor reading about this older lady adjusting to a more youthful body, but the story’s brevity also meant that her development was somewhat sparse, and I barely registered any of the side characters.

Ultimately, Murder by Memory was a fun read, but despite some of its unique qualities, I doubt it will leave a lasting impression. That said, as the opening volume of a new series, I think it has potential. Over time, I can see future sequels building upon each other, fleshing out the world and bringing more depth to Dorothy’s character. And if these episodes will be as short and sweet as this one, I’ll be keeping an eye out for the next book and hoping it expands on the foundations laid here.

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

The Third Rule of Time Travel by Philip Fracassi

Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars 

Genre: Science Fiction

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Orbit (March 18, 2025)

Length: 325 pages

Author Information: Website

Time travel in science fiction has always been a fascinating yet challenging concept, teasing stories with endless potential while bringing its own unique set of headaches. Taking a bold step into this tricky domain of complex timelines and tangled paradoxes, Philip Fracassi brings us The Third Rule of Time Travel, a novel where the weight of memory and grief takes center stage.

The novel follows scientist Dr. Beth Darlow, who along with her late husband Colson had been developing a machine that allows the transport of the human consciousness through time and space. However, this form of time travel has limits. First, you can only travel within your own lifetime, so forget about going back to the dinosaurs or witnessing the fall of Rome. Second, there is no reliable way to know when and where your consciousness will end up, only that it can travel for no more than ninety seconds. Third, over the course of these ninety seconds, no interaction is possible, only observation. Due to the restraints on this particular tech, these three rules are immutable, with many mechanisms put in place to ensure that sending an individual’s consciousness to the past should not alter the present.

In the aftermath of Colson’s death, Beth is left to raise their young daughter on her own. She throws herself into her work, using the time machine to gather more data. But as the pressure mounts, her trips into the past become increasingly dangerous, with the machine seemingly to force her to relive her most traumatic moments. For Beth, whose life has been marked by plenty of grief—including the tragic loss of her parents and older sister in a plane crash during a childhood vacation, and Colson’s fatal car accident on her last her birthday—these painful memories threaten to shatter her. Then, a disturbing anomaly arises in the form of a discrepancy discovered between reality and the failsafe method designed to monitor changes in the present timeline. As the line between what is real and what is not begins to blur, Beth must do everything she can to hold onto her loved ones and her legacy.

Fracassi’s storytelling in The Third Rule of Time Travel is a riveting mix of fast-paced action punctuated by poignant, emotional beats. Tragedy has followed Beth since she was a kid, and the novel kicks off with a harrowing opening sequence, putting us in her head as her consciousness is transported to the worst moment of her life, as a way to introduce its time traveling elements. From this point onwards, the plot maintains strong momentum, keeping the interest going by making the reader care about Beth’s personal and professional life. The cutting-edge descriptions of the story’s time traveling method alongside the top-secret nature of the character’s work made it easy to keep turning the pages.

When it comes to characterization, Beth Darlow is a layered and sympathetic protagonist whose strength lies in her determination to keep living despite the recent loss of her husband, juggling both the important roles of scientist and now single mom. At home, she struggles with the guilt of hiring a nanny and having less time to spend with her daughter, while at work she seems to be constantly fighting time and funding constraints placed upon her by the company’s higher ups. But while this is undeniably Beth’s story, I feel that some of the supporting characters—the best friend, the research partner, the hard-ass boss, etc.—could have been better fleshed out to give the novel’s premise a more convincing boost.

There are also moments where this book stumbles under the weight of too much exposition, though going back to the complexities of time travel, I suppose a certain amount of info-dumping is to be expected. Most of these sections were thankfully brief and didn’t affect the pacing too much, and to his credit, Fracassi managed to get a lot of detail and explanation across without making it boring. Ultimately, the unique “three strict rules” imposed upon the author’s version of time traveling resulted in a thought-provoking read, emphasizing the psychological impotence one must experience when reliving a terrible life event with no power to change its course. That said, as is often the case with time travel stories, I didn’t feel like it stuck the landing. The climax and the ensuing confusion almost seemed intentional, as if discouraging you from overanalyzing and asking questions.

Still, at the end of the day, The Third Rule of Time Travel is a fresh and ambitious novel whose risks largely paid off. Despite a few minor stumbles here and there, the story managed to avoid major pitfalls that tend to plague hard science fiction time travel narratives—namely, the type of overly complicated or excessive minutiae that causes much frustration to readers. Overall, it was a worthwhile read that mades me appreciate the subgenre.

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

The Ragpicker King by Cassandra Clare

Mogsy’s Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars

Genre: Fantasy

Series: Book 2 of The Chronicles of Castellane

Publisher: Del Rey (March 4, 2025)

Length: 576 pages

Author Information: Website

The Ragpicker King is the second book in The Chronicles of Castellane series by Cassandra Clare, returning to the intricate world established in Sword Catcher. The usual caveats apply—if you have not caught up yet, this review may contain spoilers or book one!

The story opens in the aftermath of the devastating palace massacre that shook the city of Castellane. Those involved are desperate for answers—how could this have happened, and why? Kel Saren, who has filled the role of loyal Sword Catcher since he was a young boy, serves not only as Prince Conor Aurelian’s body double and protector but now must also play an investigator, tasked with uncovering the perpetrators behind the attack. To do so, he must venture beyond the glittering court and into the city’s dark underbelly, where the powerful fixer and information broker known as the Ragpicker King reigns. As Kel’s investigation pulls him deeper into danger, he begins to realize that his ability to shield the prince has limits, especially as the crown’s enemies grow bolder. While cleaning up Conor’s messes has always been part of Kel’s duty, which he performs gladly since the two men are as close as brothers, this time the consequences may be far graver than either of them anticipate.

Meanwhile, Prince Conor himself struggles to cope with the trauma of the massacre and witnessing the death of the innocent girl to whom he had been betrothed. As rival factions in his court continue to scheme for power and influence, he has no choice but to brace for yet another arranged marriage designed to secure his kingdom’s stability—even as his heart already belongs to someone else. And across the city, Lin Caster, an Ashkar healer and granddaughter to the king’s most trusted advisor, finds herself caught in a terrible predicament of her own making. In a desperate attempt to save her sick friend, she had openly proclaimed herself the reborn Ashkar goddess. Now, a visitor has arrived in town to test her claim, ready to subject her a series of trials where failure could mean disastrous consequences.

The Ragpicker King does everything a sequel is supposed to do. Clare expands on the world-building that made Sword Catcher so compelling, further exploring Castellane’s political landscape and the murky conspiracies simmering beneath its surface. In addition, she continues to bolster the storytelling by adding more to both court intrigue and personal dramas. Profound changes take place as characters mature in the face of new struggles, especially in Conor’s case. Once carefree and impulsive, the prince is finally beginning to take Kel’s advice to heart—learning that it’s time to grow up and be a true leader. However, taking responsibility also comes with a downside as his new aspirations come in conflict with the status quo at court, causing heightened political tensions. Subsequently, Kel’s natural instinct to shield his friend from further confrontation actually ends up doing more harm than good. He remains my favorite protagonist, dealing with his identity and place in the world as “Sword Catcher.” Lin, on the other hand, sees her star fade a little in this second novel as her storyline takes her farther away from the main plot at cause, causing her chapters to feel somewhat apart and disconnected.

Despite all these developments, pacing is also a mixed bag. The novel feels much longer than it is, due to the burden of lengthy explanations and setup. The narrative frequently goes on tangents, trying to shoehorn in and lingering on the characters’ various romantic entanglements. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind a little romance, but definitely not at the expense of the more significant stakes unfolding in the world at large. A touch of spice can add interest and depth, but with so much else at play, who gets paired up with whom is the least of my concern and feels like a distraction. In particular, the middle section dragged on with its meandering, soap opera-style drama, while the main story arc was crying out for more attention and momentum.

Happily, things pick up in the later parts of the book, where we see much stronger cohesion. As the plot reaches the climax, it unleashes a bombshell and an emotional payoff that’s worthy of the buildup. While it leaves some threads unresolved, including major changes for all our protagonists, the ending leaves plenty of motivation to pick up the next installment.

Ultimately, The Ragpicker King is a sequel that—while ambitious and expansive—is far from perfect. It does plenty of things well, including building upon the scope of its world, but admittedly it also stumbles in other areas, like pacing and character balance. On the whole, it also has the unmistakable feel of a bridge book. That said, I am interested in seeing how the next installment will handle the questions and conflicts that have been left enticingly open. The book’s ending sets the stage for what promises to be explosively fun times in the journey ahead.

More on The BiblioSanctum:
Review of Sword Catcher (Book 1)

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

Greenteeth by Molly O’Neill

Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars

Genre: Fantasy

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Orbit (February 25, 2025)

Length: 320 pages

Author Information: Website

Here I go again, writing a review for another historical fantasy novel inspired by fairy tales and folklore. That said, every so often, a book will emerge that puts a fresh spin on an old story or bases its premise on lesser-known mythological creatures. I, for one, had never heard of Jenny Greenteeth, or Wicked Jenny, before picking up Greenteeth by Molly O’Neill. A kind of bogeyman-type water monster from English folklore, her name was used to warn careless children away from the treacherous shores of lakes and rivers, lest Jenny pulls them in and drowns them. Huh. It’s always great to learn something new.

Obviously, the novel Greenteeth centers on this terrifying figure, who is typically depicted as an evil hag ready to snatch her unsuspecting young victims and drag them into the murky depths. O’Neill, however, prompts readers to look at Jenny in a whole new light. She’s a monster, all right. But monsters can have feelings too, and they can sometimes be the hero instead of the villain. Living in her secluded lake, Jenny can get lonely. And whenever a human wanders close to her abode, she just can’t help her curiosity.

One day, her inquisitive nature leads to a decision that changes everything. Accused of witchcraft, a woman named Temperance from a nearby village is thrown into the lake by an angry mob led by their fanatical new preacher. Against her better judgment, Jenny chooses to save her, sheltering Temperance and letting her recover in her lair. Soon, the two of them find themselves in an alliance against an emerging foe that threatens both Jenny’s lake and Temperance’s family. Bound by magic, the two of them seek help from Brackus, a traveling goblin trader who deals in magical reagents and information. The trio next sets out on a quest to save their home, a journey that takes them across the lush British landscape and even to the very heart of the faerie realm.

There’s a lot to love about Greenteeth. The world-building is particularly robust, immersing readers in its rich atmosphere as well as the myths that inspired the characters and setting. The author doesn’t skimp on the details; you’ll notice how elements from all kinds of sources make their way into the novel, including Arthurian legends, Old English literature, Celtic mythology, and real history. Her prose is also very well suited to the vibes she wants to convey—a world that feels both grounded and magical, neither fantasy nor reality but straddling that in-between space, giving it all a dream-like quality.

And yet, this approach also has the downside of making the plot feel overly simplistic, almost like a children’s tale. This became especially true when Jenny, Temperance, and Brackus were tasked to do a bunch of what were essentially fetch quests, a narrative structure that’s both formulaic and predictable. At times, even the characters’ personalities felt underdeveloped, reduced to broad emotional strokes that, unfortunately, ended up defining them. One of the story’s most significant conflicts, for example, stemmed from little more than Jenny throwing a massive temper tantrum. While it’s an incredibly effective way to humanize our monstrous protagonist, I confess to being somewhat disappointed that, under all those sharp edges which made Jenny so mysterious and intriguing, all we got was a petulant child.

Still, for a debut novel, Greenteeth is an impressive achievement and an excellent entry into its genre category. Molly O’Neill’s love of fantasy and folklore is clear from her descriptive prose, as is her affection for the legendary figure of Jenny Greenteeth, whom she writes about with care and compassion. Sure, there were a few things that could have used more polish, but despite these flaws, Greenteeth showcases a promising new voice in fantasy. While it might not be anything groundbreaking, I found it to be a very worthwhile and enjoyable read.

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

Upon A Starlit Tide by Kell Woods

Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars

Genre: Fantasy

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Tor (February 18, 2025)

Length: 432 pages

Author Information: Website

I’ve never made secret my feelings for modern fairy tale retellings, which have saturated the fantasy genre in recent years. In fact, I’ve even started DNFing novels that tread this well-worn path—not necessarily because they’re bad, just that I’m not up for the same old same old. But then, every so often, a book will come along that stands out from the crowd by doing something a little different. Kell Woods’ Upon A Starlit Tide is one such novel. Drawing inspiration from multiple fairy tales—a bit of The Little Mermaid here, a bit of Cinderella there, along with a whole smattering of other classics—this history fantasy set in 18th century Brittany blends their many themes together to create something that feels at once nostalgic and entirely on its own.

The story follows Lucinde Leon, affectionately called Luce, the foundling daughter of a successful merchant in the busting and well-fortified seaside town of Saint-Malo. Caught between worlds, Luce chafes at the social expectations imposed upon her and her two sisters. Drawn to the ocean, she dreams instead of a life adventuring on the seas but is prevented from following this path due to her gender and the fact of her misshapen feet. Secretly, she spends much of her time hanging out by the shore where she interacts with the local fishermen, smugglers, and even the occasional water faerie.

One fateful day, however, Luce witnesses a shipwrecked sailor floundering in the ocean and rescues him. The young man turns out to be Morgan de Chatelaine, the charming and handsome son of a powerful shipping family. After locating the de Chatelaine’s doomed ship with her smugger friend Samuel, Luce helps him plunder its valuable cargo of precious sea stones and they discover that poor Morgan was the only survivor of the entire crew. Now awake and recovered from his near drowning, the merchant prince appears to remember that it was Luce who saved his life, and subsequently there is an undeniable spark between them. Meanwhile, despite being adopted, Luce has always been her father’s favorite child and unexpected receives a generous gift from him—a ship to call her own.

Luce’s future now has many possible paths, each shaped by the forces at play around her. But as she navigates the uncertainties of her new circumstances, she must decide where her loyalties lie and what kind of life she wants to build. Her own origins are a mystery that may hold the key to understanding the connection that Saint-Malo has with the fae and offer clues why the world’s supernatural elements seem to be in retreat everywhere.

The storytelling here is multilayered and immersive, painting a richly detailed picture of the world and characters who inhabit it. The addition of the regional mythology results in a distinct flavor for the setting, making this more than just another fairy tale-inspired fantasy. For you see, magic is worked into every thread—all encompassing, but still subtle in some cases. It’s part of their way of life for Luce and those around her, whose livelihoods depend on the sea, a force that can give but also take away. Superstitions are alive and well, especially involving the fae folk and the legends surrounding sea maids and storm stones. This is why it made sense that Upon A Starlit Tide turned out to be a mermaid story, but what surprised me was the inclusion of elements from other well-known fairy tales, completely turning my expectations on their head while keeping me guessing constantly at the direction the plot was going to take.

The set up for all this potential required a lot of description and foundation building, which occasionally slowed the pacing but fortunately the momentum takes off in the second half.  While the first half of the book felt like a charming blend of historical realism and fantasy making the world feel both idyllic and enchanting, things take a tense turn as the hidden dangers emerge and secrets begin to unravel. The stakes become far more personal for Luce. Her journey from a restless young woman to someone who has more power than she realizes was satisfying to witness. While there were a few plot developments which I found predicable, there were also some genuinely surprising twists.

Overall, Upon A Starlit Tide is a beautifully written historical fantasy that breathes fresh life into the familiar fairy tell retelling. Although the novel takes its time establishing the world and characters, the payoff was well worth it. Readers who enjoy this subgenre will find much to love about Luce’s journey of self-discovery, adventure, and embracing the magic and mysteries that shape her life.

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

Emily Wilde’s Compendium of Lost Tales by Heather Fawcett

Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars

Genre: Fantasy

Series: Book 3 of Emily Wilde

Publisher: Del Rey (February 11, 2025)

Length: 368 pages

Author Information: Website

Having followed Emily and Wendell’s journey through the first two books of this series, I was excited to see how the trilogy will end, especially now with the weight of a faerie realm hanging in the balance. I’m happy to say Emily Wilde’s Compendium of Lost Tales delivers a satisfying and enchanting conclusion that offers the perfect balance between adventure, scholarly curiosity, and whimsical charms—all the things that made me fall in love with this series in the first place.

Before we proceed, a mild spoiler warning for the previous books if you haven’t caught up yet. The story finds Emily Wilde and her fiancé, Wendell Bambleby, coming to terms with their new roles as rulers of Wendell’s ancestral kingdom in Faerie. As someone who has dedicated her life to dryadology, or the study of faeries, Emily has always preferred learning about her beloved subject from the safety of university classrooms and libraries. This new development, however, will thrust her out of her comfort zone and into the dangerous politics and intrigues of the fae world. And things are not exactly stable right now in Wendell’s realm!

Before vanishing, Wendell’s spiteful and ruthless stepmother Queen Arna had placed a curse on the land, leaving it clinging onto life. To lift the curse and return the realm to normal, Emily leaps into her role as the new queen not only to support Wendell, but also to stay true to her academic roots, resolving to find an answer in her rich knowledge of faerie stories. In this world, she may feel like a fish out of water, but when it comes to fae lore, there is no greater expert. If there’s even a grain of truth in these legends, or a clue that may help, our protagonist is determined to find it.

For a sequel that picks up right after the previous book left off, Emily Wilde’s Compendium of Lost Tales gets off to a relatively slow start. For the first half of the book, it feels as if barely anything happens. Sure, Wendell has to face up to his new responsibilities as king, going through the motions of posturing and winning a few duels here and there. But for the most part, we don’t move past much past the central conflict that his realm is under threat. Emily also plays her role as an outsider, perhaps a bit too well. This section sees her without much agency, being tossed around the court, doing wherever her new duties as acting queen requires of her. She’s meek, she’s unsure, and she spends a lot of this time either going with the flow or simply staying out of the way.

That said, there is a silver lining. We’ve spent most of the last two books in Emily’s sphere of influence, but we’re in Wendell’s now. And what we learn is that sweet, easygoing Wendell can in fact be very scary if the need calls for it. The interactions become so much more interesting in this new dynamic, for while the relationship and banter between our two main characters remain light and airy, we can tell Emily is still getting used to seeing Wendell in his new role. Of course, she is still important to him, and the romance between them is alive and well.  But with his kingdom and his people in peril, there are other things to occupy his attention. It’s a significant adjustment— not just for our protagonist, but for me as a reader as well.

Perhaps not coincidentally, the story picks up at around the same time Emily regains some of her confidence reflected in the passion for her work. That’s when both the novel’s pacing and the world’s imagination come alive again. Emily’s no-nonsense intellect takes over, making some headway into finding a solution, all the while giving readers a chance to indulge in delightful fae lore. As she delves deeper, the book’s vibe shifts to weaving in intrigue and danger, with the tensions building to a satisfying conclusion.

In the end, Heather Fawcett gives us fans the gift of a strong final installment in Emily Wilde’s Compendium of Lost Tales. This ending might have been heartfelt and bittersweet in its poignancy yet still felt just right—a fitting farewell to our unforgettable couple, Emily and Wendell.

More on The BiblioSanctum:
Review of Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries (Book 1)
Review of Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands (Book 2)

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

Cold as Hell by Kelley Armstrong

Mogsy’s Rating (Overall): 4.5 of 5 stars

Genre: Mystery, Thriller

Series: Book 3 of Haven’s Rock

Publisher: Macmillan Audio (February 18, 2025)

Length: 10 hrs and 6 mins

Author Information: Website | Twitter

Narrator: Therese Plummer

Kelley Armstrong returns to the remote wilderness of Haven’s Rock in Cold as Hell, the third installment of her new mystery series spun off and set in the same world as her Rockton books. Ever since they helped launch another sanctuary town in the Yukon after the old one fell apart, a lot has happened to Detective Casey Duncan and her husband Sheriff Eric Dalton. Armed with a more holistic vision for their new home, their goals include being a lot more selective in the people they take in, as well as upholding their pledge to keep the existing residents safe.

That said, trouble always seems to have a way of finding Haven’s Rock, as isolated as it is. One night, a woman returning home from the local bar is attacked in the woods by an unidentified assailant, barely managing to escape. A tox screen afterwards also reveals that she had been drugged by a powerful sleeping aid, which presumably was in her spiked drink. Aware that all prescription drugs going in and out of town are strictly controlled, Casey knows this will be the ideal point to begin her investigation. There are only a limited number of suspects, after all.

However, with the harsh winter season upon them, Casey and Dalton know that time is not on their side. Not to mention, they are also expecting the birth of their first child any day now. Far from civilization, it’s clear that one bad storm could wreak havoc on their lives, both professional and private. And sure enough, when a sudden and violent blizzard rolls in, whiteout conditions not only prevent Casey from flying out for obstetrics care, but they also give the unknown culprit a perfect opportunity to claim another victim. This time, he or she is successful, and the body of a woman is found in the forest the next day with signs of forcible abduction and torture. There’s a predator on the loose in Haven’s Rock, and Casey must follow the clues to catch the killer before her due date—or before another life is lost.

Haven’s Rock—and before that, Rockton—is one of my favorite fictional settings, which might not be surprising with my fondness for icy, lonely places in books. Kelley Armstrong has always had a knack for making the Yukon wilds feel immersive for readers, emphasizing both its vastness and seclusion. Despite all the work Casey, Dalton, and their friends have put into setting it up, the town is still in its infancy. Not all rules or safety nets are in place yet, and in some ways, the leadership is making it all up as they go along. When you consider how they are also at the mercy of the elements, uncertainty and instability become villains in their own right, even as our protagonists work to hunt down the literal bad guys.

In terms of characterization, Casey remains an impressive leading woman. We’re up to ten books starring her, and I think it’s safe to say her strength and resourcefulness are pretty well established by now. Still, Cold as Hell features a new role for Casey as expectant mother, and along with that comes all the physical and emotional vulnerabilities being eight to ninth months pregnant. Granted, impending parenthood seems exacerbate the worst and most annoying aspects of our protagonists—for instance, Casey’s lack of self-preservation, or Dalton’s overbearing protectiveness—though to be fair, both seem to acknowledge and own up to them.

Still, the murder mystery plot was perhaps the most surprising. As I’ve noted in my reviews for the previous books, the remote setting is a double-edged sword, on the one hand satisfying the requirement for a locked room mystery, but on the other making it difficult to introduce new characters in subsequent books without making it too obvious who the killer is. Starting over with a new town with new people fixed this somewhat, but as the Haven’s Rock series grows, I was worried we would start running into the same problem again. Thankfully, we haven’t reached this point yet, with Cold as Hell being able to keep readers guessing, even throwing in a couple twists I didn’t see coming. Plus, combining the tensions involved in the investigation with the unpredictability of Casey’s pregnancy simply raised the stakes even higher.

At the end of the day, this was another winner in Kelley Armstrong’s growing collection of mystery thrillers, and another solid novel starring Casey Duncan and Eric Dalton. Ultimately, I don’t know if there will be another installment to the Haven’s Rock series, which is a testament to how satisfied I was with the ending in Cold as Hell, though obviously I would be all for spending more time with these characters. I have to say, this was probably my favorite book since the early Rockton days. As for the audiobook, narrator Therese Plummer once again delivered a splendid performance. If you are looking for gripping mystery with an atmospheric setting, compelling characters, and a touch of survivalist tension, this is a fantastic series to dive into.

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

Grave Empire by Richard Swan

Mogsy’s Rating: 4.5 of 5 stars

Genre: Fantasy

Series: Book 1 of The Great Silence

Publisher: Orbit (February 4, 2025)

Length: 529 pages

Author Information: Website

The Empire of the Wolf trilogy was one of the best and most compelling fantasy series I’ve read in years, so naturally I could not wait to get my hands on the next book by my newest favorite author Richard Swan. And with Grave Empire, Swan proves once more his talent in blending gripping storytelling with deep worldbuilding and complex political intrigue.

Though set in the same universe as the author’s previous series, this first volume of The Great Silence trilogy takes place many years later. So much time has passed that society in Sova has evolved onto the cusp of an industrial revolution, pushing the use of magic into the shadows. The world is changing, and with it, the balance of power is shifting. The story is told through the eyes of three main characters, each navigating their own path in this era of upheaval, unsure how their roles will shape the future.

First, we meet Renata, a junior ambassador to the mysterious mer-people of Stygia, whose routine is disrupted when her office is approached by two traveling monks from a death-magic sect, bringing dire warnings of the “Great Silence.” This is a prophecy that warns of an impending catastrophe—beginning with the inability to communicate with the spirits in the afterlife, signaling the end of the world. Realizing that this can have far-reaching consequences for all civilizations and not just the Sovans, Renata joins others on a diplomatic mission to seek guidance from the Stygion magic users, hoping to prevent the disaster from happening. Meanwhile, Peter is an inexperienced officer who receives a commission to lead a group of soldiers through wild and uncharted territory, which some even say is cursed. Stationed at the very edges of the empire, he and his troops face an unearthly enemy they are wholly unprepared for—one that invades the mind and makes you question everything you see or hear. And finally, we have Count Von Oldenburg, an ambitious and ruthless noble who harbors an obsession with anything to do with the arcane. With the reluctant help of his lover, he secretly conducts horrific experiments in his home involving dangerous and outlawed magic.

With the threat of apocalypse looming, our characters’ choices will determine whether the empire survives or falls. The main conflict of Grave Empire is the potential chaos the Great Silence could bring, though it does take a while for the connection between the three threads to be revealed. I found my time with each character compelling in their own way, each offering a unique perspective on events from their individual spheres of influence.

Renata’s chapters, for example, were steeped in political tension and diplomatic maneuvering, and she even survives an assassination attempt. In addition, there’s her personal struggle to gain respect in her role, one made all the more difficult by the near-mythological status of the mermen. Watching her journey unfold, from dealing with mockery to her eventual firsthand encounter with the merfolk, was one of the novel’s most rewarding aspects.

Peter, in contrast, is a very different kind or protagonist—one completely out of his depth who is attempting to lead a group of soldiers who neither respect or trust him. The letters to his father which precede each of his chapters reveal a scared young man filled with self-doubt. And when his unit finally comes face to face with the enemy, the results are grim, brutal, and disturbing.

Then there’s Von Oldenburg, who hears “grim, brutal, and disturbing” and says, “hold my beer.” In terms of page time, he had the least presence, yet his character had the most visceral impact. His twisted logic and relentless pursuit of knowledge make for an unsettling character study as he continually pushes ethical boundaries under the guise of scientific progress. His relationship with his mistress Yelena is another point of intrigue—complex, difficult to define, and layered with personal history which adds another fascinating level of depth to his chapters, even though he himself is a vile person.

Though reading the previous trilogy is not required, it was also exciting for me to see how the world has changed since the events at the end of Empire of the Wolf. We have moved into an industrial age where technological advancements reign supreme, and gunpowder appears to be the way of the future. However, the setting retains Swan’s signature mix of dark fantasy worlds populated by morally gray characters. Everything feels like they are in a state of flux, painting a picture of a society on the brink of transformation, being pulled in many different directions at once by love of tradition, hunger for power, and the fear of the unknown.

Swan’s prose is both atmospheric and accessible, which made it easy for me to immerse myself in Grave Empire. Written in the third person, we gained the ability to follow multiple characters across the empire, allowing us to explore more areas of Sovan society and beyond. Because of this, though, we do lose some of the intimacy of the first-person narrative, which was used for Empire of the Wolf. That might be my only regret here, as the three character POVs did not convey as much immediacy as I would have liked, and the connections between them were also not as apparent. The themes of the book are also very dark, without much levity, which made this a relatively slower, heavier read.

Nevertheless, by the end of the book, I was completely sold on its new plot conflicts and characters. The slow build ultimately pays off as the stakes rise become further entangled in the fate of the empire. Grave Empire is not going to be an easy or light read, but for fantasy fans who appreciate intricate storylines and deep character work, Richard Swarn delivers another stellar novel that is both thrilling and thought-provoking. With so many secrets still to unravel and mysteries to solve, I’m looking forward to seeing where the series goes next.

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

Tartufo by Kira Jane Buxton

Mogsy’s Rating (Overall): 3.5 of 5 stars

Genre: Contemporary, Humor

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Hachette Audio (January 28, 2025)

Length: 11 hrs and 31 mins

AuthorInformation: Website | Twitter

Narrator: Caroline Hewitt

After thoroughly enjoying Kira Jane Buxton’s Hollow Kingdom series, I was looking forward to checking out Tartufo even though her newest novel falls outside my usual genres. I was mainly curious to see how her quirky sense of humor would transfer to a different kind of story, and while Tartufo does indeed take a more grounded approach, it still carries the author’s signature charm. Still, despite its playfulness and whimsy, the novel didn’t quite capture me in the same way as her previous work.

Set in the small, fictional Italian village of Lazzarini Boscarino, Tartufo tells the tale of a group of residents who will do anything to keep their dying town on the map. With most of the younger generation having departed for greener pastures in the big cities, the remaining aging population is left to hold what’s left of their beloved home together. But the crisis deepens as it is revealed that the previous mayor had died without leaving any available funds for rebuilding and revitalizing. Now his daughter Delizia returns home to handle his affairs only to find herself elected as the new mayor—after nearly losing the race to a donkey—with the unenviable task of turning things around, all the while struggling with her own personal ambitions and disappointments.

Then one day, a local truffle hunter named Giovanni heads out into the forest with his dogs, doing what he loves most, when he suddenly stumbles upon an enormous truffle—quite possibly the largest specimen the world has ever seen. Realizing its potential, Giovanni brings it to the rest of the village, hoping it’s exactly what they need to bring attention back to Lazzarini Boscarino. However, what begins as a stroke of extraordinary luck soon spirals out of control as the attention the town receives also includes that of the negative variety, motivated by enmity and greed. Instead of bringing the community together, the discovery of the truffle threatens do the exactly opposite, forcing everyone to question what future they want for their town.

If you’re looking for some casual reading or a book to sit back and relax with, Tartufo is the perfect choice—relatively low stakes, brimming with charm and wit. For me, it felt a lot like watching a lighthearted musical. The human characters are oddballs, with some portrayals leaning into satire and caricature, filling the cast with over-the-top personalities that wouldn’t feel too out of place in a stage comedy. The novel is also a treat for the senses. Descriptive writing is dialed up to the max, painting a gorgeously evocative picture of the setting. The Italian countryside is described so vividly you can practically smell the delicious scent of food and wine in the restaurants and feel the warmth under the Mediterranean sun. The village of Lazzarini Boscarino is itself as much a character as its eccentric inhabitants, written with the same amount of care and detail.

Buxton has also chosen to tell this story in an omniscient point of view, a brilliant decision which allowed her to do something that has become part of her signature style—writing from the perspective of animals. Inserted between character POVs are scenes told through the eyes of creatures like Giovanni’s truffle-hunting dog, a cat named Al Pacino (despite it being female), and even a passing honeybee. Not only is it reminiscent of the Hollow Kingdom series, which was told through the eyes of a very clever crow, it’s a quirk of the writing which adds an unexpected layer of depth to the story.

Despite the whimsical nature of Tartufo, there’s a distinct lack of supernatural elements, though that alone didn’t take away from my enjoyment. More challenging was the way the narrative juggles so many different POVs, leaving some important characters underdeveloped. It’s also a little too silly in places, making it harder for me to fully immerse myself in the conflict, and there were moments where I wished for more emotional depth.

Nevertheless, Tartufo remains a delightful read, showcasing Kira Jane Buxton’s storytelling abilities. While the playful tone occasionally goes overboard with it and becomes tiresome, on the whole the book is entertaining and endearing. At its heart, it’s a story about togetherness and the dreams of a community, and though I didn’t connect with it as deeply as the author’s Hollow Kingdom, I still had a good time with its humor and themes.