
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Publisher: St. Elmo (July 14, 2024) Length: 385 pages Formats: ebook
Raymond St. Elmo’s Colleen the Wanderer is the second book set in the same world as Barnaby the Wanderer. It’s a tighter story with fewer pages, fewer characters, and a much more personal focus. For me, that shift worked well. We spend most of the time following Colleen as she moves through a strange world full of saints, monsters, and the occasional odd conversation.
I liked it. That’s not exactly a surprise. I generally like St. Elmo’s writing, and this book delivers many of the things that make his work distinctive.
Colleen herself is a good lead. She’s practical to a fault. She doesn’t want adventure, destiny, or glory. She wants people to leave her alone so she can make pots. Alas, the world has other plans. Saints interfere, monsters appear, dreams intrude, and somehow she ends up wandering whether she wants to or not.
The wandering really is the point. The plot exists, but it’s loose and often takes a back seat to encounters along the road. Colleen meets a steady parade of odd creatures, hermits, and supernatural oddities ("miscreates," as the book calls them) Some are funny, some unsettling, some just strange.
The tone sits somewhere between classic fantasy adventure and something more whimsical. St. Elmo has said he was aiming for a style similar to Andre Norton’s Witch World books, but he admits he can’t quite write without humor creeping in. That’s obvious here. The world may be full of saints and fate and mysterious forces, but the dialogue often undercuts any attempt at solemnity. Characters talk like people who are aware that the situation is absurd. It keeps the book lively.
As always with St. Elmo, the prose is one of the main draws. It’s sharp, playful, and occasionally very funny without trying too hard. The dialogue in particular works well.
That said, the structure is a little uneven.
The opening takes a while to settle in. The first stretch is slightly confusing and slow, partly because the world operates on its own strange logic and the book doesn’t rush to explain it. Things improve once Colleen properly hits the road and the story finds its rhythm.
The ending goes the other way. After spending so much time wandering and meeting odd characters, the conclusion arrives fairly quickly. It ties the threads together, but it felt a bit abrupt. I wouldn’t have minded another chapter or two.
Still, the experience of reading the book is enjoyable. The story has a dreamlike quality where events make just enough sense to keep you moving forward. You don’t always know where things are going, but you trust the author to get you somewhere interesting.
If you’ve read Barnaby the Wanderer, you’ll notice a few familiar faces showing up briefly. They’re more like cameos than major roles, though, and the book mostly stands on its own. The focus stays firmly on Colleen.
In the end, Colleen the Wanderer is imaginative, occasionally funny, and full of peculiar creatures and conversations. The pacing wobbles a bit at the beginning and end, but the middle stretch - the actual wandering - is consistently engaging.

I ended up liking Nothing Tastes as Good quite a bit. It’s easy to fly through it. I listened to the audiobook and kept telling myself "just one more chapter" most of the time.
This leans much more toward thriller than straight horror for me, even with the body horror and cannibalism stuff lurking in the background. The story follows Emmett and how badly the world treats him because of his weight. That part felt believable. The book does a really good job showing how exhausting it is to constantly feel judged, dismissed, or turned into a "before" picture by society.
Emmett worked well as a protagonist too. He’s funny, insecure, and desperate to finally feel comfortable in his own life and body. When he joins the clinical trial for the weight loss drug Obexity, you immediately know this cannot possibly end well. And yet I completely understood why he kept going even after things started getting very weird and very bloody.
The horror elements are there, but they’re sparse. This is more about paranoia, obsession, body image, social media, and the realization that people suddenly treat you better once you look different. Actually, some of the most uncomfortable moments weren’t the gore. It was seeing how differently people reacted to Emmett after he lost weight.
I also liked the mixed format with blog posts, interviews, and reports scattered throughout the story. It kept things moving and made the audiobook especially fun to listen to.
The final act gets pretty over-the-top, and I can't say I was a fan. The villains and their motivations turned paper-thin and shallow and the rushed ending disappointed. I'm ok with Emmett's fate, but not of the road that led to it.
Anyway, it's a good book, and very engaging most of the time. Luke Dumas clearly had a lot to say about diet culture and self-worth, but never forgot to make it entertaining too. Maybe not especially scary, but definitely engaging, gross in places, and very hard to stop listening to.

Book links: Amazon, Goodreads
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
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War, as it turns out, is a terrible place to discover you don’t want to be in a war.
Three brothers (Ethan, Mason, and Archie) have this revelation during the Battle of Shiloh and do the only sensible thing available to them: they run in the opposite direction of cannon fire. Sadly, the desertion results in navigating through mud, starvation, regret and the creeping realization that survival and morality don't always gel.
When they think, all's lost, they find the house. Now, in stories, a house in the woods is rarely just a house. It is, at minimum, a decision. This one comes with a beautiful woman named Sarafina, her son (or not), huge and dangerous dogs and a general atmosphere of wrongness.
At first, it’s all very convenient, especially that the hist is welcoming, has food and is willing to share. On top of that, no one is actively trying to shoot them. WooHoo.
Ethan, who narrates like someone trying very hard to believe his own version of events, starts to notice small things. Then larger, more theological things. Meanwhile, his brothers adjust and let their inner selves (angry, violent, corrupt) act openly. Not the best choice.
I liked how Fracassi lures you in with something familiar (war is awful, men are flawed, there is a strange woman in a strange house) and then plays with it and rearranges pieces while you’re not looking. By the time you notice, you’re no longer in a war story. Or a haunted house story, for that matter. You’re somewhere worse.
The brothers aren’t likable, which is rather the point. They are what happens when you mix violence, fear, and a lifetime of bad influences and then give it all time to ferment. Ethan tries to be better, but the book suggests that trying and succeeding are not the same thing.
There’s a middle stretch where you might think you’ve figured it out. You haven’t.
In conclusion, if someone offers you food in a perfect little house in the middle of nowhere, you should at least consider the possibility that you are not the guest. Other than that, it's a great slow-burn horror story.
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I checked out The Caretaker because horror subreddit kept hyping it up as one of the best horror releases of the year. That usually goes one of two ways for me: either I find a new favorite, or I spend 300 - 400 pages wondering if we all read the same book. Thankfully, this one absolutely delivered. It’s pretty awesome and unnerving.
Macy takes a weird caretaker job in the middle of nowhere because she’s broke, exhausted, and trying to keep herself and her younger sister afloat. Naturally, this turns into the worst employment experience imaginable. Forget toxic management. This house may literally doom humanity.
Kliewer knows how to build the suffocating sense of dread so that even ordinary things start to feel wrong. Lights. Doors. Phone calls. Written instructions. A rabbit. Especially the rabbit.
Macy makes the horror effective. At first, her narration almost tricks you into lowering your guard. She’s self-deprecating, awkward, traumatized, and kind of funny in a very tired way. Like, her life is already a disaster anyway. There’s humor in the narration, and she has enough distance from her own misery that the book initially feels lighter than I expected. Then the paranoia starts creeping in. Slowly, carefully, the story pushes her closer and closer to the edge of a complete breakdown, and I loved how convincingly Kliewer handled that spiral.
A lot of horror protagonists make dumb decisions because the plot needs them to. Macy makes bad decisions because she’s mentally and emotionally wrecked. That difference matters. She’s grieving, desperate, isolated, sleep deprived, and clinging to the hope that following the rites might somehow keep everything together. The horror here is less about shocking reveals and more about endurance and trying to hold onto reality while reality keeps slipping sideways.
The middle and final sections especially hit hard for me. The paranoia becomes relentless. Every interaction feels poisoned with doubt. You never fully know what’s real, who can be trusted, or whether Macy herself can still trust her own mind. Kliewer does an excellent job making the reader feel trapped inside that unraveling headspace.
I also appreciated how the book plays with rules. The rites feel absurd right up until they don’t. There’s almost an OCD-like rhythm to them, this terrifying idea that if you fail one tiny ritual, catastrophe follows. It creates this constant tension where even flipping a light switch feels loaded with existential dread.
And that ending. Brutal. I'll definitely remember it even if I'm not sure if I actually liked what just happened to me.
I’ve seen some readers get frustrated with Macy or with how chaotic the second half becomes, and I get it. This book absolutely wants you to feel anxious, helpless, and stuck in a downward spiral. For me, that’s exactly why it worked so well. Marcus Kliewer knows how to weaponize uncertainty better than most horror writers I’ve read recently.
By the end, I felt like I’d experienced something and I’ll take that over cheap shocks any day.


Book links: Amazon, Goodreads
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Cameron Johnston is a Scottish writer of fantasy and lives in the city of Glasgow in Scotland. He is a member of the Glasgow Science Fiction Writers' Circle, loves archaeology and mythology, enjoys exploring ancient sites and camping out under the stars.
Publisher: Angry Robot (April 14, 2026) Page count: 328 pages Formats: audiobook, ebook, paperback
There are many ways to start a fantasy novel. A prophecy. A battle. A mysterious stranger in a tavern.
First Mage on the Moon starts with a hanging.
From there, the book rewinds to show readers how did a bunch of overworked, underpaid mages end up committing what is apparently the greatest heresy imaginable - touching the moon?
That line pretty much sums up what The Lord of the Empty Mirror is doing, and what Khraen is at this point. Not a man so much as a collection of pieces arguing with each other.
I loved the original Obsidian Path trilogy, so I went in with high expectations and this didn’t disappoint. Khraen is hunting the shards of his heart but also he's against one that represents the worst (or maybe most honest) version of himself. The part that understands power, control, conquest. Which means you get two Khraens. Sort of.
One is trying to fix things and unite the world, stop a god, and maybe do a bit less mass murder along the way. The other version is much more focused on conquering everything, trusts no one, and absolutely don’t let feelings get in the way.
Bringing in another POV, especially one tied so closely to Khraen himself, works surprisingly well. It allows to dive into one of the series’ core ideas of how memory shapes identity. Who you are, what you remember, and what you choose to become aren’t cleanly separated here. Fletcher really digs into that, and it pays off. If you take a man, break him into pieces, and then put him back together… which version is real? The one trying to be better, or the one who remembers how effective being worse used to be?
Plot-wise, there’s always something happening and it never drags. I liked the twists, but I won't spoil them for you.
Also, it’s properly grim. Every solution costs something awful. There’s a moment where Khraen casually weighs how many souls something is worth, and it doesn’t feel out of place. That’s the level we’re operating on.
Khraen himself is, well, still Khraen. Powerful, determined, and capable of making deeply questionable decisions with full confidence. There were a few “why would you do that” moments, but they always track. He’s not stupid, he’s just very committed to his own logic, which is sometimes worse.
The ending is going to split people. If you didn’t like how the original trilogy wrapped up, this won’t fix that. It follows the same idea and you get no neat closure or the sense that everything is finally “done.”
For me, it was perfect since it fits the series. But if you’re looking for clear answers and everything tied up nicely, you won’t get that here.
TL;DR: I loved it.
TODAY IS THE DAY!
We have chosen our champion, and we’re excited to announce the winner and runners-up.
First, we want to thank all SPFBO participants. We sincerely appreciate your involvement in the process.
After getting through the batch of thirty books, we’ve picked five semi-finalists. Here they are in alphabetical order:
CARRION SAINTS by Hiyodori - In its authors words "Carrion Saints is a sapphic enemies-to-lovers romance between an immortal saint and a severed head." And that's it, in a nutshell. We highly appreciated Hiyodori's unique take on the trope, bitter-sweet ending and excellent writing. If you like character-driven conflict, this one sticks.
PILGRIM by Mitchell Lüthi - Dust, faith, politics, and people making difficult choices for reasons that make sense to them. It’s immersive without feeling like a lecture, and the amount of research into various cultures, religions and traditions must've been insane. Not fast, but worth checking out.
THE INHERITED BLADE by Jye Sorensen - it connects two storylines: one with lots of running for survival, one about inheriting unwanted responsibilities. It takes a bit to balance, but when it does, it clicks nicely. Good if you like character contrast and gradual build.
THE SINS OF STEEL AND SHADOW by Steve Pannett - Fast, scrappy, and very aware that most problems can (unfortunately) escalate into violence. Bail is a great guide through a cruel city, and the book rarely slows down long enough for you to get bored. Not deep, but reliably entertaining. Most of us will read the sequel as soon as it hits the shelves.
THE UNNAMED by M.S. Masood - It has a rich world, and skillfully pictures a slow unraveling of belief. The tension comes from watching someone realize their entire worldview might be wrong and not liking that realization one bit. Heavy at times, but well-written and engaging.
CHOICES CHOICES
At this stage, we had to decide how to evaluate one good book against another and whether it was at all possible to come to some sort of fair and objective decision. We tried to base our choice on the following criteria (listed in alphabetical order):
You can almost hear the drumroll, can't you? Or is that just the sound of SPFBO followers holding their breath?
•
•Without further ado (because we know you're just dying to know), the story that has danced its way into the finals is

Congratulations to Hiyodori , and good luck in the finals!
We're sending Carrion Saints to the finals with a rating of 8.0/10.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Over a writing career that spanned three decades, Philip K. Dick (1928-1982) published 36 science fiction novels and 121 short stories in which he explored the essence of what makes man human and the dangers of centralized power. Toward the end of his life, his work turned toward deeply personal, metaphysical questions concerning the nature of God. Eleven novels and short stories have been adapted to film; notably: Blade Runner (based on Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?), Total Recall, Minority Report, and A Scanner Darkly. The recipient of critical acclaim and numerous awards throughout his career, Dick was inducted into the Science Fiction Hall of Fame in 2005, and in 2007 the Library of America published a selection of his novels in three volumes. His work has been translated into more than twenty-five languages.
First published February 1, 1974 Page count: 204 pages Formats: all Literary awards: Hugo Award Nominee (1975), Nebula Award Nominee (1974), Locus Award Nominee for Best Novel (1975), John W. Campbell Memorial Award for Best Science Fiction Novel (1975)
There are, broadly speaking, two kinds of bad mornings.
The first is when you wake up late, miss your alarm, and step on something on the way to the bathroom.
The second is when you wake up and discover that you do not legally, socially, or bureaucratically exist, which is considerably worse.
Jason Taverner experiences the second kind. And it’s a strong start. In fact, it’s such a strong start that the rest of the book spends a fair amount of time trying to catch up with it.
In the world Jason wakes up to, authority is everywhere, and it makes a routine of invigilating people. Taverner himself was a celebrity, and he spends most of the book trying to get his life back. Understandable, but it makes him less interested in big questions about identity and reality than in the more practical issue of not being arrested.
Anyway, he’s not awful to read about, but he’s also not that interesting. The book hints that losing everything might change him, but it mostly doesn’t. He stays focused on getting his life, status, comfort, and place at the top back. There are a few chances for him to actually connect with people, but he tends to fumble them or just move past them. That might be the point, but it doesn’t make him more engaging. That said, scenes describing his confusion and panic impressed me. And his attempts at explaining what love is are quite good.
Still, people around him are much more interesting. Buckman, in particular, is a fascinating character who knows a lot about life and certain life altering substances.
The structure is loose. Taverner moves through a series of encounters, each of which feels like it is going somewhere, but often isn’t. Characters appear, say something interesting, and then vanish. The explanation of the mystery didn't shock me since I read most books by Philip K. Dick and also his biography. But I won't spoil it.
So, did I like it? Mostly. There is something here, a sense that people are stuck being themselves, even when the world shifts under their feet. In the end, it’s an interesting book that never quite becomes a great one. It's full of good parts, just loosely assembled. You can see why people remember it. You can also see why they argue about it.
It makes it worth a read, I guess.




The infinite dungeon below Whitepeak, the famous City of Wizards, has reset itself once again, bringing new traps, new monsters, and new, never-before-seen challenges to this historic event. All of your favorite champions from Season Ninety-Nine are back and ready to face what is sure to be the most difficult season of Mana Runners ever attempted. From the lowest Copper Tier to the Platinums who shine at the top, every Runner is ready to lay down their lives defending you from the monsters that lurk beneath the mountain.
All of their sacrifices shall be recorded in the pages of history, but only those blessed with unique powers from the gods can reach the deepest floors. It’s the event that brings sentient races from all over the world together! The spectacle no one can afford to miss! And you can watch it all live thanks to Whitepeak College of Wizardry’s revolutionary sendernet: the only Sending spell network that broadcasts the can’t-be-missed action of Mana Runners straight into your home!
(The Mana Runners Centennial Season is produced by the Whitepeak Dungeon Committee and the Coalition of Rightfully Aligned Gods. Remember, the gods are always listening, so be sure to pray for your favorite Mana Runner to earn them blessings as they battle the unthinkable dangers of the Endless Dungeon!)



And here's our last update before we pick a finalist amongst five semi-finalists. Check Chels's thoughts on her batch and see who's her semi-finalist!

Book links: Goodreads
BLURB: Follow the Rites...
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Publisher: Length: Formats:
Carrion Saints opens after the end of the world. The great cities are gone, only small towns, quiet hills, and monsters remain.
Crow is an immortal saint who looks like a monster and sometimes acts like one. She has wings, red eyes, and the weary patience of someone who has watched empires rise, fall, and rebrand. She arrives in a small village with a local monster problem. The monster, known as the Woman in the Hills, lives under a large magnolia tree and eats hunters. This arrangement has been going on for some time. The villagers are not thrilled, exactly, but they’ve adjusted. Crow has already fought so called Great Adversaries and so she accepts to slay the monster. The confrontation doesn’t go as planned.
Magnolia is a chatty severed head attached to a tree. She finds the one crack in Crow and pries it open. The dynamic between them works incredibly well. Magnolia chatters, taunts, philosophizes while Crow mostly endures. Sometimes she pushes back, but sometimes she can’t. She also wants to do the least harm possible, but the story keeps forcing her into situations where harm is unavoidable.
I like Hiyodori’s writing, but sometimes I wish she condensed things more. There are long stretches of conversation between Crow and Magnolia that are conceptually interesting but start to circle the same ideas of power, choice, mortality, and what it means to be a saint. The philosophical back-and-forth feels overextended.
The worldbuilding is intriguing but not fully explored. We hear about the other Great Adversaries, the long decline of the world, the strange ecology of monsters and saints. It’s compelling in outline, but much of it stays offstage. This keeps the story focused, which is good. It also makes the setting feel a touch abstract.
That said, the book makes two near-omnipotent beings arguing on a hill feel tense. Their conflict is about who understands the other’s weaknesses first. I’ll add that Magnolia is a great antagonist because she’s not frothing with rage. She’s amused. Curious. Almost affectionate in a warped way. Crow’s quiet fury and Magnolia’s gleeful prodding create a steady, uncomfortable tension.
Emotionally, the book feels heavy. It’s about grief that never quite fades. About living so long that loss becomes sediment. If the book has a weakness, it’s that its pace can feel flat in the middle. The stakes are clear, but the story sometimes pauses to explain things rather than letting events reveal them.
Overall, Carrion Saints is a strong Dark Fantasy that keeps things personal and intriguing throughout. It’s also my second book by Hiyodori and I’m becoming a fan.




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