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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 Staircase in the Woods by Chuck Wendig

Mogsy’s Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars

Genre: Horror

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Del Rey (April 29, 2025)

Length: 400 pages

Author Information: Website

I rarely miss picking up a new Chuck Wendig book, which is why I really wanted to love The Staircase in the Woods. I guess in some ways, I did—but it also took me way longer to finish than I expected. Despite a strong beginning and end, I found myself bogged down by the middle section which felt repetitive and a bit bloated, slowing down momentum.

Still, there’s no denying this book has one hell of a killer premise! It features a group of teenagers—Owen, Lore, Matty, Hamish, and Nick—who experience a supernatural tragedy one summer, reuniting decades later to confront the truth of what really happened. It all began in high school, when during one of their usual hangouts in the woods, the five friends stumble upon a strange spiral staircase rising out of the ground and leading to nowhere. One fateful night, buzzed on booze and bravado, Matty decides he wants to climb it—and he’ll even do it by himself, if the others are too chicken. Only, upon ascending, he vanishes without a trace. The rest of the group is left traumatized and grief-stricken, blamed by the community for their friend’s disappearance. Shattered by guilt and unanswered questions, they eventually graduate and go their separate ways.

Twenty years later, however, Nick reaches out to the others with dire news and a request: first, he has terminal cancer, and second, he wants to find out what happened to Matty. Reluctant but unable to refuse their dying friend, Lore, Owen, and Hamish agree to meet. They learn that Nick has found the damned staircase again, and this time when he leads them to it, they all make the climb. But the mystery of what befell Matty isn’t going to be solved so easily. In fact, things get weird fast. The friends find themselves inside a house that shouldn’t exist, a surreal place where each room forces them to face their deepest fears and relive their worst memories. They soon realize the house is playing with them, feeding off their pain. And while they have come to find Matty, it’s uncertain now whether any of them will make it out alive.

I’ll start with the positives. The supernatural elements in The Staircase in the Woods are certainly effective when it comes to the chill factor, even more so when I learned from the author’s note that he drew inspiration from real reports of mysterious staircases found in the middle of wooded areas, including one he personally encountered. While many of these sightings turn out to have perfectly rational and mundane explanations—like remnants of old photography and hunting platforms, or abandoned houses where the rest of the structure has fallen around the staircase and long since been reclaimed by nature—the idea still struck me as creepy. After all, the imagery itself is rather unsettling, making it easy to imagine other uncanny possibilities.

Clearly, much of the novel was also driven by tensions between the characters, a result of all their psychological and emotional baggage. As the saying goes, you can run but you can’t hide, and no matter how hard they’ve tried, none of the remaining four friends can move on from what happened to Matty. Even after achieving moderate success as a game designer, Lore remains deeply unhappy and feels victimized by everyone around her (and some of her political rants can be a bit much). Owen is a nervous wreck, and his anxiety has only worsened since his high school days. Hamish, the only one married with children, is nonetheless unsatisfied and self-destructive. And although Nick may act like a clown, the humor is merely a mask that hides the true desperation within him. To be honest, none of them are particularly likeable, but they are complex and feel genuine. I loved reading about their relationships in the past and in the present, and the most rewarding part was seeing how these connections are broken and healed again.

But now for the not-so-great. Like I said, not everything worked for me, particularly the story’s pacing. While it was smooth sailing for most of the first half, soon after, the plot started spinning its wheels. The characters end up splitting up, spending a long time moving through this house of horrors, with each room throwing more and more terrible things at them until these scenes begin to lose all meaning. At some point, it all feels done for the sake of shock value. The scares also blur together and become more of the same old, same old. I definitely struggled to get through this middle section, putting the book down multiple times then finding it hard to motivate myself to pick it back up again.

That said, picking it back up again I did, and I’m glad. Once the holding pattern finally breaks, the plot gets right back down to business, pushing forward rather than lingering in its own sluggish atmosphere. The payoff at the end of the book was well worth the wait, and the story’s resolution tied its themes of friendship, grief, and recovery back to the way things were for the characters before Matty’s disappearance tore them apart. Needless to say, I was happy with the conclusion, which was both satisfying and touching.

Despite my misgivings into its pacing issues, I would still recommend The Staircase in the Woods, especially if you enjoy stories about unexplained mysteries, haunted forests, and reunions between even more haunted friends. Admittedly, this one took a bit of a climb for me, but in the end there was still plenty to like.

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

When the Wolf Comes Home by Nat Cassidy

Mogsy’s Rating: 4.5 of 5 stars

Genre: Horror

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Tor Nightfire (April 22, 2025)

Length: 304 pages

Author Information: Website

I have to admit, the first time I read Nat Cassidy with Nestlings, my feelings were mixed. But boy, am I glad I gave his work another chance, because When the Wolf Comes Home was a trip that went straight for the jugular. It’s horror that masks itself as a traditional werewolf tale, but what you’ll find instead is a raw and emotionally charged story that goes much deeper than that.

Plot-wise, the story follows a young Los Angeles woman named Jessa Bailey who has reached a dead-end in her acting career and is currently trying to make ends meet by working at a dingy diner. After experiencing a traumatic health scare, she makes her way back home feeling anxious and dazed, only to have her night turned upside down a second time when she discovers a terrified little boy hiding in the bushes outside her apartment. After getting him inside and squared away some clothes and food, she gets his story—or most of it, anyway, before they are attacked by a monster. The beast, which looks half man and half wolf, proceeds to tear through the building and kill many of its residents, and Jess and her new charge only barely manage to escape.

It soon becomes clear that the monster is hunting the boy, but that’s not all that’s coming after them. Certain elements in the government are also interested in getting their hands on him, and a Special Agent named Michael Santos has been tasked to track him down on behalf of a secret organization. Jess has no idea why so many people are desperate to find the boy, but the longer she spends with him, the more she realizes he’s special. Strange and uncanny things seem to happen around him, which Jess finds disturbing and hard to believe. However, once she is named as a person of interest in the attack on her apartment, their fates become intertwined. With no one else to turn to, Jess becomes the boy’s protector and his only chance of survival.

When the Wolf Comes Home is the kind of novel that would translate well to the big screen, with cinematic writing that moves at a fast clip and a story with plenty of action and just the right amount of emotional resonance. But while a film adaptation of this book would undoubtedly be a horror movie, simply because of all the gore and terror, I also think it would be a lot more complicated. As the plot progresses, the surface peels back to reveal several layers of meaning. Our protagonist Jess is deeply flawed and unsure of herself, still feeling raw from the pain of losing her estranged father whom she’s never forgiven for abandoning her. The story’s themes hit hard when you realize the monster chasing her is more than a creature of folklore.

There’s also a surreal quality here that I wasn’t sure what to make of, initially. There were certainly scenes that bordered on sheer absurdity, and I confess, when the first of these scenes hit, my regard for the novel dropped considerably. But this was before I realized how integral these moments were to the big picture. Without spoiling anything, these distortions to reality are directly related to the mystery surrounding the boy and the ideas underpinning the entire story. I couldn’t possibly hold the surrealism against the book after that and even started to enjoy these moments when they added a spot of humor to an otherwise bleak premise.

And truly, most of this book is dark. Sometimes it gets too dark, and you wonder how much more our characters can afford to lose and still manage to keep their hope and sanity. There’s a heaviness that borders on exhausting, and so perhaps it is not surprising that my main complaint lies in the ending. At times, when I’m feeling generous, I think to myself that there’s no other way things could have played out. But when I’m in a more critical mood, I feel like the pacing was all wrong. If nothing else, the novel probably should have ended soon after the climax and not have such a long denouement.

Still, When the Wolf Comes Home is a fantastic read, and a standout in horror fiction. In fact, it easily ranks as one of the most memorable horror novels I’ve read in recent years. When you pick up the book, look at its cover and read its title, you’d be forgiven for thinking this is just another werewolf story. I know that’s what I thought at first. But instead, what Nat Cassidy has delivered here is entirely his own: a wild and weird blend of tension, chills, and heartbreak. It simply works.

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

The Ghost Woods by C.J. Cooke

Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars

Genre: Historical Fiction, Horror

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Berkley (April 29, 2025)

Length: 384 pages

Author Information: Website

This is the fifth book I’ve read by C.J. Cooke, and I think her writing and storytelling just keep getting better and better. The Ghost Woods has quickly become one of my new favorites by the author, second only to A Haunting in the Arctic. Once more, readers are transported to a historical setting where the atmosphere is thick with tension and mystery—with just a touch of the supernatural—and the emotional depth of the characters takes center stage.

In The Ghost Woods, Cooke returns to Scotland’s misty and isolated countryside to spin a tale exploring themes of motherhood and life altering decisions. Set in 1959 and in 1965, the novel follows two women who finds themselves at Lichen Hall, a home for unwed pregnant girls. Mabel is first to arrive in the earlier timeline, frightened and confused because she has no idea how she got pregnant, and no one believes her even though she swears she has never been with a man. Several years later, Pearl makes the same journey to the old mansion in preparation for the birth of her baby, the result of a careless one-night stand following a split from her long-term boyfriend. After losing her nursing job because of it, Pearl’s family thought it would be best for her to lay low until she gives birth.

While Mabel and Pearl come from very different backgrounds, both women come to similar conclusions about Lichen Hall. It is a strange and eerie place, hidden in the woods far from the nearest town and hospital. Many parts of the house are in disrepair, with mold permeating the walls. The property belongs to the Whitlock family, but it is Mrs. Whitlock who clearly runs the show, as old Mr. Whitlock is ill and mostly bedridden, kept out of sight. Also living with them is their grandson, a trouble young man who makes some of the girls staying at the home uncomfortable. As hosts, the Whitlocks are cagey and seemingly hiding some secret knowledge about their huge crumbling mansion, in which Mable, Pearl, and the other women shut away there find themselves trapped.

Like all of Cooke’s other novels, The Ghost Woods excels in atmosphere. Lichen Hall is a character unto itself—distinct with its own unique personality, and that personality to malevolent and threatening. The women, already feeling alone and vulnerable because of their conditions, are made even more anxious knowing Mrs. Whitlock does not believe in outside help. The lady of the house is a mysterious character, kind and comforting one moment, cold and cruel the next. Whatever her motives though, she is adamant that no doctor will ever be called, so the young expectant mothers can only rely on each other. This gives the story a claustrophobic and oppressive vibe, where among the vivid descriptions of the encroaching forest, nothing feels entirely safe.

The plot also employs dual timelines, which I felt was mostly effective. Being relatively close in time, however, sometimes the two threads blurred, especially once Mabel and Pearl’s perspectives came together and intertwined later in the book. The slow build at the beginning also made those early chapter the most challenging, but pacing improves once the story introduces more characters and gives the chance for the horrors at Lichen Hall to develop.

There’s also the slight issue of too many things happening at once, to the point where I feel some of the more minor story threads were not satisfactorily resolved. However, the answer to the most important mystery as well as the twist at the end of the book helped make up for it and made me more forgiving of any loose ends. In fact, the abundance of ideas and themes added overall to the novel’s rich layered feel, even if I would have welcomed a bit more tightening.

All in all, C.J. Cooke delivers another chilling and atmospheric tale in The Ghost Woods, and I think both fans of her previous work as well as new readers will find plenty to love here. This is gothic horror at its finest. Also highly recommended if you enjoy broody historical fiction with a touch of the fantastical, such as influence from fairytales and folklore, or simply unearthly ways of looking at the natural world.

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

The Butcher’s Masquerade by Matt Dinniman

Mogsy’s Rating: 5 of 5 stars

Genre: Fantasy, Science Fiction

Series: Book 5 of Dungeon Crawler Carl

Publisher: Ace (April 8, 2025)

Length: 720 pages

Author Information: Website

Five books in, and Matt Dinniman shows no signs of slowing down! The Butcher’s Masquerade is arguably the darkest and most unhinged book in the Dungeon Crawler Carl series—so far, at least—and I say that with the utmost glee. Observant readers will also notice that each subsequent volume has grown longer in page length, and that truly is a direct consequence of the story becoming bigger in every way.

A new sequel means a new level, as Carl and his cat Donut continue their deadly descent into the dungeon which formed after the hostile takeover of Earth by a massive, alien-run game show. The duo finds themselves on the sixth floor, also known as The Hunting Grounds. As with every third floor, the dungeon introduces a major mechanic, and the rules are turned upside down once again as outsiders registering as hunters are allowed to enter the dungeon for the first time. Most of these will be tourists, paying for the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to bag a few crawlers, but a good number of the participants will also be seasoned professionals. Among them are the famed veterans who live for the glory of the hunt, and they will be brutal and merciless, playing to collect as many trophies as they can.

The remaining crawlers, whose numbers have dwindled to a fraction of what they once were, now must contend with these aliens hunting them on top of trying to survive everything else the dungeon will be throwing at them. For Carl and Donut, who have consistently stayed in the top ten crawlers list, this also means their bounty will be especially attractive to hunters. Of course, it hasn’t helped that Carl has been putting up a resistance against the showrunners and their supporters, poking a finger in their eye every chance he gets. But all this is done with a purpose. Unlike previous iterations of the dungeon crawl, this season Carl and his fellow crawlers will not be helpless, because he’s made damn sure the Earth survivors won’t go down without a fight.

Every book in this series raises the stakes, but in this one, they escalate dramatically. Dinniman has turned up the tensions and delivers some of the most satisfying moments yet, especially the ending when the hunt culminates in the titular Butcher’s Masquerade, a pivotal plot point but also a grand party that celebrates the coming together of the various and often antagonistic groups of guests who are all expected to play nice for just that one night. That’s because everyone in attendance is promised a gift in the form of a boon from an in-game deity, but there’s a catch—the gathering must conclude without any violence. In the long history of the crawl though, that has never happened. And with Carl and his friends in the mix, you can bet that’s not about to change now.

World-building also steps up a notch in this installment. Even as crawlers and hunters duke it out on the sixth floor, a greater struggle is unfolding in the greater galaxy as the structure of the game, those investing in it, and the political maneuvering of the alien factions all get more attention. These glimpses behind the scenes make Carl’s quest even more critical while still maintaining the personal nature of his revenge. At this point, series fans who have long learned to embrace the chaos will be rewarded with meaningful action and payoffs, with our protagonist unleashing retribution in a way only he can—in a torrent of ruthless mayhem.

And yet, while the tone remains humorously irreverent and action-packed, there’s also a deeper, emotional thread running beneath the surface that changes the game entirely for the characters and readers alike. Carl might be growing more powerful with each level and loot box, but the horrible things he’s seen and experienced have left their mark. The story balances his rage and thirst for vengeance with heartfelt moments of humanity, where grief and despair will come to the surface, but so too do hopeful feelings like love and camaraderie. The relationship between Carl and Donut continues to develop in wonderful, surprising ways, with both their arcs taking darker and more complex turns, but it’s their undying support for each other that keeps their friendship strong and the banter light.

Finally, if I had any reservations about Dinniman losing control of the snowballing narrative, he’s proven that he can keep multiple plotlines in the air and juggle them without neglecting any of them. But how long will that last? Admittedly, I’ve started noticing a bit of wobbling in this book’s pacing—some slowing down in the middle as the story branches off into side quests and supporting character arcs, which is the natural result of an expanding series and its growing universe. Sometimes the narrative will linger a little too long on something that doesn’t always feel essential, even if it is entertaining. It’ll be interesting to see if future installments can maintain the same tight balance of content and clarity as more books are added and the plot keeps getting more complicated.

Bottom line, the Dungeon Crawler Carl series is unlike anything else out there, as Matt Dinniman continues to single-handedly redefine the LitRPG genre. Onward to the next level!

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)
Review of The Gate of the Feral Gods (Book 4)

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

Cold Eternity by S.A. Barnes

Mogsy’s Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars

Genre: Science Fiction, Horror

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Nightfire | Macmillan Audio (April 8, 2025)

Length: 293 pages | 9 hrs and 38 mins

Author Information: Website

There’s just something irresistible about a haunted-in-space story, which is probably why I always come back to S.A. Barnes. While none of her books have quite crossed that line into “phenomenal” territory for me, I can always count on her to deliver a reliably solid and entertaining experience.

In Barnes’ newest novel Cold Eternity, the premise is immediately intriguing. The story follows Halley Zwick, though she’s been known by multiple names. A woman with a complicated past trying to outrun her overbearing family and a political scandal, she is forced to accept a shady, criminally low paying job just to stay under the radar. The role itself is easy enough, requiring Halley to press a button every few hours and do some rounds. However, it is situated aboard a derelict barge in space known as the Elysian Fields. Originally built to preserve the cryogenically frozen bodies of the rich and powerful with a hope that future medical advancements will allow or their revival, the ship was even repurposed to be a museum for a time but is now nothing but a decaying relic left floating in the void.

Right away, Halley is warned by her mysterious and insufferable boss Karl that she will be expected to perform her duties independently, and that there are areas of the ship that are absolutely off-limits. Preferring to work alone anyway, Halley takes no issue with following his instructions—until strange things start happening on Elysian Fields that go beyond the typical quirks of an aging, crumbling ship. Unexplained noises echo through the emptiness, and Halley thinks she catches sight of someone or something in the shadowed corridors—even though, as far as she knows, the only living souls aboard are Karl and herself, with everyone else locked away forever in cryogenic sleep.

Following in the footsteps of her previous novels Dead Silence and Ghost Station, the author returns with another tense, atmospheric thriller that leans hard into the themes of isolation, paranoia, and rogue technology. Once more, Cold Eternity is packed with unsettling imagery and claustrophobic scenarios which add to the mounting dread. One of Barnes’ greatest strengths lies in her ability to craft eerie, immersive scenarios that have an almost cinematic quality to them. In fact, as someone who recently watched the latest Alien movie Romulus, I could help but draw some inevitable parallels, from the derelict spaceship setting to the glimpses of horrifying monsters lurking in the dark.

Still, although the book had plenty to keep me turning the pages, there were a handful of reasons that kept it from being truly memorable. For one, the pacing felt uneven, with the story taking its sweet time unraveling the central mystery. Without revealing too many spoilers, onboard the Elysian Fields is a cryogenically frozen individual whose memory has been preserved, and with whom Halley has a history. However, this relationship is never explored to my satisfaction, remaining largely surface-level. Similarly, hints about Halley’s troubled past are scattered throughout the book but are mostly withheld until the final stretch, when all is revealed in one big dump. While I typically appreciate a good slow burn when it’s building toward something impactful, here the narrative felt less like a careful calculation and more like stalling.

Another thing that tripped me up was some of the repetitiveness in the plot. The cycle of Halley’s routine which amounted to making rounds, hearing strange noises or seeing strange things, then questioning her sanity became a bit of a slog. I get that readers are supposed to sympathize with the protagonist’s growing paranoia and exhaustion, but the way it was handled made large portions of the novel’s middle section feel unnecessary or redundant. I found myself wishing for more variety in the horror and thrills, or at least some deeper insights into the ship’s macabre history during some of the quieter stretches.

But overall, did I enjoy the book? The answer is yes, which is the most important part. Although not flawless, Cold Eternity is undeniably entertaining and has its fair share of spooky moments. I certainly ate it up in a very short amount of time. Like I said, even though the story is unlikely to stay with me for long, I knew I could count on it for a fun, solid read.

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

Senseless by Ronald Malfi

Mogsy’s Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars

Genre: Horror, Thriller

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Titan Books (April 15, 2025)

Length: 432 pages

Author Information: Website

Ronald Malfi is currently one of my favorite authors and I’ve greatly enjoyed all of his recent releases. However, Senseless was a bit of a mixed bag. While it delivers many of the things I’ve come to expect from Malfi, like an eerie atmosphere with just the hint of the supernatural, this particular story just didn’t resonate with me quite as strongly.

The novel opens with the grisly discovery of a woman’s mutilated body in the Mojave Desert, not far from the outskirts of Los Angeles. Detective Bill Renney is called to the scene to examine the remains and is unsettled to find eerie similarities to the case of another murdered woman that he’d worked on a year before. In fact, there’s enough to suspect that both women might have been killed by the same person—except that unbeknownst to anyone, Renney actually has secret information about these cases that might complicate his investigation.

Meanwhile, in a glitzier part of the city, author Maureen Park is celebrating her whirlwind engagement to powerful Hollywood producer Greg Dawson when the party is crashed by his son Landon. The twenty-something young man has lived a troubled life of aimlessness and addiction, but Greg’s latest attempt to keep his son out of the spotlight by sending him to school in Europe appears to have failed yet again. Already uncomfortable with Landon’s unpredictable behavior, Maureen is even more shocked and fearful after finding some disturbing items among his belongings.

And finally, we have a third POV character, Toby. The most mysterious of all, Toby drifts from place to place, fancying himself a “human fly” escaping from the “spider” and her web at home. Then one night at a club, he encounters an enigmatic woman who claims to be a vampire, sending him spiraling further into delusion as a powerful obsession for her takes over.

Senseless is the fifth book I’ve read by the author. By now I’ve come to associate his name with atmospheric horror and emotionally driven narratives, usually led by complex and flawed characters. This book largely delivers on all these counts. On the surface, it reads like a murder mystery and almost like a police procedural, especially when we are following Renney. He was my favorite character in the book, if nothing else for his part in the plot, which felt the most grounded and compelling, giving off that gritty, noir-like quality I appreciated. In a way, his chapters were also a deep character study of the man over the course of a year, starting from the unsolved murder of the first woman, when Renney was still mourning the recent death of his wife. With the discovery of the second murder victim a year later, his guilt and grief come roaring back, joining his growing suspicions to unravel what little peace he’s managed to hold onto.

In contrast, I was not so keen on Maureen or Toby’s chapters. To be sure, this book wasn’t without its hiccups, but admittedly it could have had something to do with my own struggles with abstract themes. At times, Toby’s POV even veered into surreal territory, a truly unreliable narrator if I’ve ever seen one. Worse, his rambling, fever dream-like chapters were often to the detriment of the story’s momentum, and every time I got one of his chapters, I had the urge to skim. Maureen’s storyline fared a little better, but I found that, while initially promising, her chapters tended to get lost in the shuffle. Granted, that’s also probably because the connections between the three characters were tenuous for most of the novel and demand a fair bit of patience from the reader.  While answers do eventually come in time, I wonder if perhaps Malfi may have overreached a bit in making this one so structurally ambitious.

But my one real gripe lies with the ending. The final moments felt too abrupt, too unsatisfying. Sure, I can appreciate a story that leaves room for interpretation, but the resolution to Senseless, if you can even call it that, felt too ambiguous in leaving too many questions unanswered. Is it a dealbreaker? No. But I just wish we’d gotten a little more clarity.

At the end of the day, there’s a lot to admire here, and the greatest strength of Senseless lies in how Ronald Malfi managed to tie the threads of three disparate narratives together. However, this was not one of my favorites of his books. There were moments of brilliance, where his talent for crafting striking imagery and rendering realistically imperfect human characters really shines, but when we zoom out to look at the bigger picture, the hits don’t always land as cleanly as they aim for. As a fan of Malfi’s work, I’m still glad I read this, but for newcomers, there are probably more solid choices for an introduction to his horror and thriller fiction, like Come With Me or Black Mouth.

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

Another Fine Mess by Lindy Ryan

Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars

Genre: Horror

Series: Book 2 of Bless Your Heart

Publisher: Minotaur Books (April 15, 2025)

Length: 368 pages

Author Information: Website | Twitter

I think once you get a feel for what the Bless Your Heart series is all about, it’s easy to fall in love with it. From the cover and synopsis vibes, you’d be right to guess this isn’t the kind of horror that keeps you up at night, but neither is it your typical fluffy, quirky cozy mystery. In fact, it hits that sweet spot somewhere in between—a little bit dark, a little bit weird, with just enough humor to keep things fun and the unsettling moments from taking over. Another Fine Mess is the second book in the series, and it continues to build on this balance.

Picking up not long after the events of Bless Your Heart, this sequel drops us back into the small southeastern Texas town where the women of the Evans family have spent generations keeping the peace in a very unexpected way. For you see, the dead have a way of not staying dead here, but running the local funeral home means the Evanses are the first line of defense whenever the deceased gets restless. Following the devastating losses from the end of the first book though, only Lenore Evans and her teenage granddaughter Luna are left to hold down the fort. Now they are desperate for some answers, and the new sheriff in town is way out of his depth and not much help. Only family secrets, half-forgotten lore, and the remnants of old legends can help them figure out what’s happening to their town.

Lately, there’s been a string of unexplained occurrences—locals vanishing without a trace, mysterious deaths, and an uptick in missing pets. While most folks in town are quick to blame it on a rabid animal on the loose, Lenore knows better. She recognizes the signs of a strigoi attack all too well. These are troubled spirits fueled with relentless rage, and they won’t stop until they’re put down for good. In the meantime though, the Evans women must keep the townsfolk calm, hiring some extra help at the funeral home to disguise the gory nature of the deaths. However, authorities have also hired a wolf expert from the university to investigate, and she’s skeptical that the killings have anything to do with an animal. As the body count rises, causing the media to descend upon the town, Lenore and Luna must race against time to find a solution before whatever is out there comes for them next.

In this worthy follow-up, the author keeps the plot brisk and engaging, layering scenes of bloody horror with easy humor and endearing character relationships. It’d definitely be helpful if you’ve read the first book, as many of these dynamics have been carried forward from Bless Your Heart. The story unfolds through multiple points of view, mostly from key players like Lenore and Luna, but there are some supporting POVs thrown in throughout for extra flavor. In addition, there is even a major character whose presence in this sequel surprised me, but it was also very welcome.

Of course, what I enjoyed most about this book was the way it embraced both the horror ingredients as well as the light-hearted elements found in any story about complex family ties. Underneath all the blood splatter of disembowelments and dismembered limbs is a solid core based around a family’s shared grief, resilience, and love. Not even death can break the bonds between the Evans women, and the relationships between them show that what they mean to each other transcends generations and even traditional mortal boundaries. In the horror department, what we get here leans more towards gore and the macabre, but a lot of it is done in such an over-the-top way that it doesn’t end up all that scary. In fact, the campiness was actually kind of refreshing, and Ryan’s version of the vampire and werewolf mythos feels both familiar and inventive when combined with the charming properties of Southern Gothic tropes.

Overall, Another Fine Mess is a fast and witty sequel, and together with its predecessor makes for an entertaining and unique entry in the urban fantasy horror genre. With the second book, considered me sold on the quirky family drama and gallows humor of this series. I would love to see the Evans women return for more stories in this darkly charming Southern setting, and if that happens, I’ll definitely be back.

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.