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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.

Once Was Willem by M.R. Carey

Mogsy’s Rating: 3 of 5 stars

Genre: Horror, Historical Fiction

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Orbit (March 4, 2025)

Length: 320 pages

Author Information: Website | Twitter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Haunting of Room 904 by Erika T. Wurth

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

Genre: Horror, Mystery

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Macmillan Audio (March 18, 2025)

Length: 9 hrs and 48 mins

Author Information: Website

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

White Line Fever by K.C. Jones

Mogsy’s Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars

Genre: Horror

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Nightfire (March 18, 2025)

Length: 368 pages

Author Information: Website

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Gate of the Feral Gods by Matt Dinniman

Mogsy’s Rating: 5 of 5 stars

Genre: Fantasy, Science Fiction

Series: Book 4 of Dungeon Crawler Carl

Publisher: Ace (March 11, 2025)

Length: 608 pages

Author Information: Website

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Buffalo Hunter Hunter by Stephen Graham Jones

Mogsy’s Rating: 4.5 of 5 stars

Genre: Horror

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Saga Press (March 18, 2025)

Length: 448 pages

Author Information: Website

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rose of Jericho by Alex Grecian

Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars

Genre: Horror

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Nightfire (March 11, 2025)

Length: 352 pages

Author Information: Website

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Murder by Memory by Olivia Waite

Mogsy’s Rating: 3 of 5 stars 

Genre: Science Fiction, Mystery

Series: Book 1 of Dorothy Gentleman

Publisher: Tordotcom (March 18, 2025)

Length: 325 pages

Author Information: Website | Twitter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Third Rule of Time Travel by Philip Fracassi

Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars 

Genre: Science Fiction

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Orbit (March 18, 2025)

Length: 325 pages

Author Information: Website

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Ragpicker King by Cassandra Clare

Mogsy’s Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars

Genre: Fantasy

Series: Book 2 of The Chronicles of Castellane

Publisher: Del Rey (March 4, 2025)

Length: 576 pages

Author Information: Website

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Greenteeth by Molly O’Neill

Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars

Genre: Fantasy

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Orbit (February 25, 2025)

Length: 320 pages

Author Information: Website

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Upon A Starlit Tide by Kell Woods

Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars

Genre: Fantasy

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Tor (February 18, 2025)

Length: 432 pages

Author Information: Website

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emily Wilde’s Compendium of Lost Tales by Heather Fawcett

Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars

Genre: Fantasy

Series: Book 3 of Emily Wilde

Publisher: Del Rey (February 11, 2025)

Length: 368 pages

Author Information: Website

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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