Review: Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil, by V.E. Schwab

 

1532. Santo Domingo de la Calzada.
A young girl grows up wild and wily—her beauty is only outmatched by her dreams of escape. But María knows she can only ever be a prize, or a pawn, in the games played by men. When an alluring stranger offers an alternate path, María makes a desperate choice. She vows to have no regrets.
1827. London.
A young woman lives an idyllic but cloistered life on her family’s estate, until a moment of forbidden intimacy sees her shipped off to London. Charlotte’s tender heart and seemingly impossible wishes are swept away by an invitation from a beautiful widow—but the price of freedom is higher than she could have imagined.
2019. Boston.
College was supposed to be her chance to be someone new. That’s why Alice moved halfway across the world, leaving her old life behind. But after an out-of-character one-night stand leaves her questioning her past, her present, and her future, Alice throws herself into the hunt for answers . . . and revenge. 

"We grow together in this garden."

V.E. Schwab's Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil is a somptuous tale of revenge, hunger, and female rage. Set in three different time periods, it meanders with little plot and beautiful atmospheric vibes, reading like one of the early Anne Rice novels. At its core, it's a story about what we are willing to do to survive in a world that tries to control us, a world where women are silenced. Even the latest portion, set in more recent times, shows how things might not be like in the Sixteenth Century, but women are still used and abused. And when the characters have the means to escape such a prison, it's not pretty. Schwab's vampires are full of contradictions, soft but violent, ruled by a hunger that cannot be sated.

Each of the three main characters is so completely different, in how vampirism takes and in their own needs and desires, but each of them longs for freedom. Sabine is larger than life, a creature of paroxysmal desires, made vicious by marital rape; uncaring of anything but her comfort, she lashes out and hers is a slow descent to madness, one all vampires must feel sooner or later. Charlotte lived a sheltered life, making her susceptible to the trap springing around her; she contains the most contradictions, a sweet girl whose need for warmth and connection leads to terrible acts maybe not of her doing, but maybe something that she could prevent. Alice is half formed, her past trauma revealing itself through flashbacks, now a young woman in need of direction and a new hope; of the three of them, she is the only one that can live her sexuality freely, but that doesn't mean that she's any more free. Their lives intertwine and tangle them together while they try to make sense of their new state. 

Schwab draws on the mythos, taking from Rice and Stoker and Le Fanu and making new rules. The poem at the heart of the novel, the metaphor of the rose, is quite evocative and once again it reminds of Rice's Savage Garden. We see other vampires, adding to the context and showing different ways to be a vampire, perhaps some better than others. The book careens towards an explosive ending that may seem a little abrupt after the intense buildup, but it works incredibly well.

Half star off because at this level of notoriety the author should have someone check if the sprinkled foreign language - in this case, Italian - she uses is actually correct. I also have my doubts about seadas being served in a restaurant in Rome in the Fifties.

Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil is a terrific vampire novel.

✨ 4.5 stars

 

👩🏽🩸👩🏻‍🦰 So you want to read about sapphic vampires?

Click here to see what I've reviewed so far! 

List: Most Anticipated Books of 2025 - July to December

 

Here are my most anticipated books for the second half of the year, in order of publication.

"Human Rites", by Juno Dawson (pub July 1, 2025)

"Volatile Memory", by Seth Haddon  (pub July 22, 2025)

"House of Dusk", by Deva Fagan  (pub August 26, 2025)

"Lady Dragon", by A.M. Strickland  (pub August 26, 2025) 

"To Clutch a Razor", by Veronica Roth (pub September 16, 2025)

"Fate's Bane", by C.L. Clark (pub September 30, 2025) 

"The Sovereign", by C.L. Clark (pub September 30, 2025)

"The Isle in the Silver Sea", by Tasha Suri (pub October 21, 2025)

"When They Burned the Butterfly", by Wen-yi Lee (pub October 21, 2025)

"The Wolf and his King", by Finn Longman (pub November 27, 2025) 

 

 

 

ARC Review: The Witch Who Chases the Sun, by Dawn Chen

A decade after the war that resulted in the death of someone important to them both, the Aixauhan Alchemist Cai-Li Ying seeks out to rekindle their relationship with her estranged lover, the Inabrian Oracle, Anne Barberry. However, a lot has changed in the past decade. Anne barricades herself in the Castle on a hill where her family‘s dark secrets lie. Chely has gained the reputation of being the Blood Hawk, who dabbles in dark magic, much to Anne’s disgust. Rumors has it that Anne herself is responsible for the disappearance of visitors who went to the Castle.
Other things are happening as the two witches reunite. Old ghosts come back to haunt them. People they know from the war come and go. Scars left by the war does not easily fade. Are they truly each other's salvation, or are they doomed to repeat the past that tore them apart?

Thank you to the author for providing the e-arc. This book is set to be published on October 1st, 2025.

Dawn Chen's The Witch Who Chases the Sun is a poignant reflection on the horrors of war and the grief of loss, drawing from Chinese myth to build a beautiful anti-colonial epic. It takes a while for the reader to get used to the mixture of past and present tense that defies expectation, undoubtedly an interesting choice to narrate the book; once one gets in the swing of things, though, the peculiar narration is not so strange. Another compelling aspect of the language used is the choice to employ chinese ideograms and sayings, without worrying about holding the reader's hand. This helps convey the racism and imperialism as we see how much the Aixauhan characters are forced to conform.

Cai-Li and Anne are complex and compelling, their relationship both sweet and intense as we get to see various stages of their lives. They're flawed characters, heroes and avengers, killers and saviors, with complex agendas that are not so easily anticipated. In fact, the twists and turns of this book are delightful and gasp-worthy. Their relationship mirrors in a way the cycle of violence brought on by war, but you never get the sense that there is no love, even when things appear grim. While this isn't a romantasy, readers might approach it with the expectation of a traditional HEA, and I will warn that while the ending is beautiful and hopeful and just perfect, perfectly encapsulating the world of the story, it very much is not HEA.

The cast is enriched by three other characters, two of which I'm hesitant to call merely side characters. Cole and Ark are just as well-rounded as the main two, driven by their own past, complex and terrible and so easy to empathize with. Their arcs intertwine and juxtapose with each other's and with the main characters, creating beautiful layers and intricate webs of honor, understanding, sacrifice, and forgiveness.

The worldbuilding is vivid, deftly painting the conflict between two nations inspired by England and China. The Chinese equivalent especially is expertly woven, showing the complexity of different etnic groups within the community.

The Witch Who Chases the Sun is a compelling tragedy.

✨ 4 stars

Review: The Lure of Their Graves, by Laura R. Samotin

Dimitri Abramovich may have won back the throne of Novo-Svitsevo, but even after defeating his former husband, the usurper Alexey Balakin, he seems no closer to securing lasting peace for his people. Enemies are closing in on all sides, and pressure is mounting for Dimitri to play the one card he has left in a bid for stability—offering his hand in marriage for a second time.
But Dimitri is still healing from the tragedies of the war, his return to the throne, and Alexey's years of torment. Vasily Sokolov is the only person with whom he feels safe, and giving up the comfort of their budding relationship feels unfathomable, even if it's the only way to sever the alliances being formed among the countries surrounding Novo-Svitsevo. So as Dimitri and Vasily reckon with political treachery, the lasting consequences of Dimitri's resurrection, and the sinister legacy of Alexey’s use of the Holy Science, they must also work to understand what it means to love each other even as they prepare to let each other go—which might prove the most difficult of all.

"Nothing of me is left in you. You have no claim to me."

Laura R. Samotin's The Lure of Their Graves is the epic conclusion to a poignant duology about surviving abuse (HERE you can find my review of the first installment in the series). After the first book's gut-wrenching finale, here is a tale about healing, something that takes a lot of time and a lot of false starts, especially when one is also faced with threats against the kingdom. This book is especially angsty, a feat after the already bleak first installment, and many chapters are tinged with despair, especially when it comes to the political marriage aspect.

Dimitri lives for his kingdom, and the agony of having to choose a spouse for the good of his kingdom, instead of following his heart and choosing Vasily, almost tears him apart. This is amplified by the fact that he can't envision a sexual relationship for its sake and the sake of the kingdom: he's described as asexual, possibly demisexual, and the marital bed would be a violation almost worse than what he survived during his first marriage. Vasily's chapters are just as painful, because he sees the choice in fronts of Dimitri and knows that he has to do what's best, but it kills him. Their encounters are mired with so much pain, and so much love, that one has to pace the reading or else be overwhelmed with emotion. And yet, it's such a hopeful book, and gentle, and kind. It's also very explicit in its descriptions of the sex scenes between Dimitri and Vasily.

The supporting cast is a delight, expanding on the core characters of the first book, Dimitri's found family, and adding Dimitri's suitors from other realms, and others. The suitors are vibrant characters, very different from each other, each of them with their own goals and needs, and we can't hate them, even though their mere presence is agony. On the other hand, we're once again subjected to Alexei's hateful POV, and he's just as skeevy and completely oblivious to the damage he caused as in the first book. His threat is one that has to be confronted too, but there will be help from an unlikely source, bringing to a close and to a satisfying ending another heartbreaking subplot from the first book.

The world-building, inspired by Jewish and Eastern European folklore, continues to be fascinating. It's not expanded upon, but what we already knew is enough to frame the story without weighing too much on the mental journey of the characters.

The Lure of Their Graves is a powerful conclusion.

✨ 4 stars

Snippet: The Bloodless Princes, by Charlotte Bond

Cursed by the previous practitioner in her new role, and following an incident with a supremely powerful dragon, High Mage Saralene visits the afterlife with a boon to beg of the Bloodless Princes who run the underworld. But Saralene and her most trusted advisor/champion/companion, Sir Maddileh, will soon discover that there's only so much research to be done by studying the old tales, though perhaps there's enough truth in them to make a start. Saralene will need more than just her wits to leave the underworld, alive. And Maddileh will need more than just her Fireborne Blade.

“Justice is like iron.”

Charlotte Bond's The Bloodless Princes is a novella concluding the duology that began with The Fireborne Blade (HERE you can read my review). Set three years after the events recounted there, it employs the same format of narration, with the story proper being interrupted by chapters about the history and lore of the world. The plot is pretty simple, as Maddileh and Saralene need to contend with the consequences of what they did at the end of the first book, and this leads to a voyage to the Underworld with a taste of the myth of Orpheus; at the same time, they must face their feelings for each other, which have only grown during the time between the two books. This makes for a sweet story where the stakes are pretty low, all things considered. The cat on the cover does absolutely have a part to play, and in fact it was a definite highlight of the book, a great character.

✨ 3.5 stars

Review: The Hymn to Dionysus, by Natasha Pulley

Raised in a Greek legion, Phaidros has been taught to fight for the homeland he’s never seen and to follow his commander’s orders at all costs. But when he rescues a baby from a fire at Thebes’s palace, his commander’s orders cease to make sense: Phaidros is forced to abandon the blue-eyed boy at a temple, and to keep the baby’s existence a secret. Years later, after a strange encounter that led to the death of his battalion, Phaidros has become a training master for young soldiers. He struggles with panic attacks and flashbacks, and he is not the only one: all around him, his fellow veterans are losing their minds.
Phaidros’s risk of madness is not his only problem: his life has become entangled with Thebes’s young crown prince, who wishes to escape the marriage his mother, the Queen, has chosen for him. When the prince vanishes, Phaidros is drawn into the search for him—a search that leads him to a blue-eyed witch named Dionysus, whose guidance is as wise as the events that surround him are strange. In Dionysus’s company, Phaidros witnesses sudden outbursts of riots and unrest, and everywhere Dionysus goes, rumors follow about a new god, one sired by Zeus but lost in a fire.

"We don’t last long, but our stories do."

Natasha Pulley's The Hymn to Dionysus is, in perfect Pulley fashion, a pointed novel about grief, memory, and identity, a reflection on PTSD and love, and a labirintine narration that draws you in, confuses you, enchants you, and leaves you begging for more. Pulley's distinctive voice is a soothing caress, mesmerising and hypnothising, as she tackles Greek Mythology with a deft hand and creates a new story that feels like the myth. Her Dionysus is a feral and uncanny creature, an ancient and curious god, kind and terrible.

The sole narrator, Phaidros, finds himself earning Dionysus' attention from a very young age. A vicious soldier and a polyglot, widowed of his guardian and commander, he is suicidal and compelled by duty and honor. He's the quintessential Pulley protagonist, and yes, she definitely has a niche, but what she does with her niche works everytime, like beautiful clockwork. This book has an intricate plot, with twists and turns that weren't predictable even by knowing the actual myths, and it meanders gently, pulling you by your hand, slowly unraveling madness and knowledge and freedom.

The relationship between Phaidros and the strange witch he suspects from the start of being a god develops beautifully, with moments of terrible tenderness and others that are heartbreaking. Phaidros' internal monologue paints him as a desperate, grieving man who can't find in himself to believe he's worthy of anything anymore, dealing with staggering loss and with the sudden duties he takes on because he has to. Slowly he'll learn to find value in himself, all while battling with a draught that threatens to kill all and with a supernatural madness taking on soldiers, as well as with a dynastic crisis.

The author did her research into history and myth, and it shows with her usage of greek words and historical references and with her deft threading of her own special Pulley-ness into the mythological tapestry. Her usage of language and etymology is as always superb, as is her particular kind of magical realism. This book has mask magic and bronze marvels that might or might not be inhabited by gods, and her inclusion of the blind prophet Thiresias in a new and fresh way is handled with grace. The major female character is handled with the usual depth and narrative cruelty. It should feel trite, but despite this, her women are always vibrant and never dulled down, and that is the saving grace.

The Hymn to Dionysus is a marvelous piece of art.

✨ 5 stars

Review: Someone You Can Build a Nest In, by John Wiswell

Shesheshen is a shapeshifter, who happily resides as an amorphous lump at the bottom of a ruined manor. When her rest is interrupted by hunters intent on murdering her, she constructs a body from the remains of past meals: a metal chain for a backbone, borrowed bones for limbs, and a bear trap as an extra mouth.
However, the hunters chase Shesheshen out of her home and off a cliff. Badly hurt, she’s found and nursed back to health by Homily, a warm-hearted human, who has mistaken Shesheshen as a fellow human. Homily is kind and nurturing and would make an excellent co-parent: an ideal place to lay Shesheshen’s eggs so their young could devour Homily from the inside out. But as they grow close, she realizes humans don’t think about love that way.

"Hatred was the fear people let themselves enjoy."

John Wiswell's Someone You Can Build a Nest In is a cozy horror story about love, loving yourself, and overcoming abuse, from the perspective of the monster, a blob who can rearrange her insides and her outsides to her liking. Her voice is so clear, and funny, with her matter-of-fact observations about humans and what little she understands of them, but she's also a deep character, with what seems to be a moral compass and a clear understanding of what is right and wrong in the human world.

The narration swings wildly between mild gore and sweet musings, in a mix that makes for an incredibly interesting read. We follow Sheshesen's terrible first day after hibernation, and we see her stumble right into some horrifying human drama while rapidly falling in love with a woman who saved her, not knowing what she is. This book has some pointed things to say about what trauma does to a person, and what it means to fall in love with traits that are trauma responses, and how to be there for someone who grew up in an abusive household.

I didn't see the twist coming, but keener readers might have no problem identifying it. I do think that it takes away some of the strength of the story, because it's a neat explanation and doesn't allow for true accountability, but the strong ending makes up for it. I also might have missed the logistics of some things.

Someone You Can Build a Nest In is a wild tale from start to finish.

✨ 4 stars

Review: The Tomb of Dragons, by Katherine Addison

Thara Celehar has lost his ability to speak with the dead. When that title of Witness for the Dead is gone, what defines him? While his title may be gone, his duties are not. Celehar contends with a municipal cemetery with fifty years of secrets, the damage of a revethavar he’s terrified to remember, and a group of miners who are more than willing to trade Celehar’s life for a chance at what they feel they’re owed.
Celehar does not have to face these impossible tasks alone. Joining him are his mentee Velhiro Tomasaran, still finding her footing with the investigative nature of their job; Iäna Pel-Thenhior, his beloved opera director friend and avid supporter; and the valiant guard captain Hanu Olgarezh. Amidst the backdrop of a murder and a brewing political uprising, Celehar must seek justice for those who cannot find it themselves under a tense political system. The repercussions of his quest are never as simple they seem, and Celehar’s own life and happiness hang in the balance.

"At least she would not be lonely from here until the end of time."

Katherine Addison's The Tomb of Dragons is a stunning return to the world of the Goblin Emperor, and the final (or maybe not?) book in the separate series following Thara Celehar, Witness for the Dead. Unlike the first two books, this one isn't a novella, and the added length allows for the story to breathe more while allowing the readers to stay with Thara a little while yet.

Everything that makes this series so compelling is still present: the mundane narration about the day-to-day happenings of a Witness investigation, like a cozy mystery that's not entirely focused on finding out culprits, but more on the characters; the utter goodness of the main character, and his struggles as he learns to lean on others, indeed, as he learns how much he means to people; the intricate forms of address with various degrees of familiarity, and the dense, rich language.

The main case, so to speak, the titular Tomb of Dragons, allows for some very poignant points about grief and solitude and the greed of corporations; it was a joy to witness the resolution, and to see so many old characters return. It allowed for a much deeper delve into the rich worldbuilding, too, showing new places and new species. This isn't a book about great and terrible threats to the world, but a quiet reflection on bureaucracy and government, and while not all problems are solved (there's still racism, and homophobia), you get the sense that things are well underway.

There is a beautiful representation of an intense platonic bond between two men, which seemed to be going in another direction entirely in the previous books, but still it progressed in a believable way. On the other hand, there's a bait and switch for the object of Thara's affections that doesn't seem to make as much sense, or be as much developed, but it's still sweet, in a way. Thara is still mourning the man he loved and lost years before, but he does seem to allow himself to find love again here.

The Tomb of Dragons is a quiet marvel.

✨ 4 stars

Snippet: The Raven Tower, by Ann Leckie

For centuries, the kingdom of Iraden has been protected by the god known as the Raven. He watches over his territory from atop a tower in the powerful port of Vastai. His will is enacted through the Raven's Lease, a human ruler chosen by the god himself. His magic is sustained via the blood sacrifice that every Lease must offer. And under the Raven's watch, the city flourishes. But the power of the Raven is weakening. A usurper has claimed the throne. The kingdom borders are tested by invaders who long for the prosperity that Vastai boasts. And they have made their own alliances with other gods.
It is into this unrest that the warrior Eolo--aide to Mawat, the true Lease--arrives. And in seeking to help Mawat reclaim his city, Eolo discovers that the Raven's Tower holds a secret. Its foundations conceal a dark history that has been waiting to reveal itself...and to set in motion a chain of events that could destroy Iraden forever.

“Perhaps, long or short, it mattered how one spent that time.”

Ann Leckie's The Raven Tower is an excellent standalone Hamlet-inspired novel with a twist about manipulative and manipulated gods. It features fascinating mythology and magic system, and a beautiful usage of the second person narration. The narrator is a delight, going on with patience about the past and the present and the power of language and stories, and about finally caring for someone. The novel explores themes of imperialism, power, and personal identity, the latter especially through the eyes of the ostensible main character, a transgender man named Eolo, whose gender is not what the story is about, but rather his gender is an important part of his identity that informs his decision-making and emotions and his relationships with several other characters. This books is a gem that I, for one, certainly intend to reread, as I read it upon publication.

✨ 5 stars

Review: Mal, by Perla Zul

Once upon a time, Mal was a spinster who could weave magic into his thread. Hired by the royal family, he met the young prince and the two became inseparable. But when the two attempted to save the kingdom, Mal was the only one to pay the price. He wakes up from a hundred year sleep with a body made of thorns and roses, his prince having never returned for him. Now, when that same kingdom he saved doesn't invite him to celebrate the birth of the princess, Mal brings his own gift...

"In the same way you'd love a flower, love yourself with that same power."

Perla Zul's Mal is a delightful novella retelling of The Sleeping Beauty, with a twist: Mal himself was victim of a sleeping curse, and as such bestows the same gift to the baby princess descended from the king of the realm he tried to save. He'll need to learn to let go of regret and resentment, and to love himself. As the hundred years of the princess' curse go by, we witness him grow and find friendship and love.

The novella has a strong fairy tale feel; the time jumps and the leaps of logic, which are very hit-or-miss in more straighforward stories, here work because of the dream-like quality of the narration. It really reads like an old story, sweet and magical. This effect also comes from the writing decision to have almost all dialogue rhyme, which is absolutely delightful, but it might not be for everyone. I know I loved it so much that I was grinning everytime a character spoke.

The characters' development is mostly off-screen, but again, given the strong fairy-tale feel that the author is going for, this works. The cast is a delight, with seven fairies who take Mal under their wings, and the fantastic character of the princess, and the prince destined to wake her up. We know how the original story goes, but we might be surprised by the fresh take of this retelling and by the narrative, circular direction.

Mal is a delightful retelling.

✨ 4 stars