Review: Peregrine Seas, by R.C. Ballad

Prince Peregrine couldn’t be happier to be kidnapped by pirates. Peregrine wasn’t cut out for the restrictive life of a nobleman – he's hungry for adventure, prone to duelling, and his family refuse to believe he's any kind of man at all. Despite his royal origins, he has more in common with the outcasts and rebels aboard the Cygnus that anyone onshore.He just needs to convince the captain of that before his ransom's paid.
Captain Alastar Macdara knows better than to trust an English prince. He has his hands full keeping his ragged crew together, and the last thing he needs is to be burdened with some foppish dandy—however charming. This particular hostage is more trouble than Alastar planned used to getting his own way, as stubborn as Alastar and not afraid to tell him when he’s wrong. But Alastar knows a thing or two about being an outcast, and his honourable streak refuses to let him send Peregrine back to a life of misery. The ransom might be off, but that doesn’t mean Peregrine is part of the crew.

"The art of negotation."

R.C. Ballad's Peregrine Seas is a fun and quick pirate story featuring a sorta-merman pirate captain and a kidnapped prince who's more than willing to leave his kingdom. Set in our world, this fast-paced novel tells a delicate and funny story about found family, belonging, and making the most of your situation.

The love story between captain and prince develops fairly quickly, born from attraction at first, but it gets interesting beats towards the end. The real gem of this book however is the colorful crew, some of them with intriguing secrets, and the sea serpents and krakens the crew have to face.

The book draws clear inspiration from Our Flag Means Death, and in fact one could definitely depict most of the cast while reading. The tone is the same too, making for a heartfelt tribute.

Peregrine Seas is perfect for a relaxing read.

✨ 3.5 stars

Review: A Sweet Sting of Salt, by Rose Sutherland

When a sharp cry wakes Jean in the middle of the night during a terrible tempest, she’s convinced it must have been a dream. But when the cry comes again, Jean ventures outside and is shocked by what she discovers—a young woman in labor, already drenched to the bone in the freezing cold and barely able to speak a word of English. Although Jean is the only midwife in the village and for miles around, she’s at a loss as to who this woman is or where she’s from; Jean can only assume she must be the new wife of the neighbor up the road, Tobias. And when Tobias does indeed arrive at her cabin in search of his wife, Muirin, Jean’s questions continue to grow. Why has he kept his wife’s pregnancy a secret? And why does Muirin’s open demeanor change completely the moment she’s in his presence?
Though Jean learned long ago that she should stay out of other people’s business, her growing concern—and growing feelings—for Muirin mean she can’t simply set her worries aside. But when the answers she finds are more harrowing than she ever could have imagined, she fears she may have endangered herself, Muirin, and the baby. Will she be able to put things right and save the woman she loves before it’s too late, or will someone have to pay for Jean’s actions with their life?

"She held her love in an open hand."

Rose Sutherland's A Sweet Sting of Salt is a sapphic retelling of the tale of the selkie wife, set in Nova Scotia during the Nineteenth Century. The author weaves an atmospheric story of longing and loneliness, depicting period-typical homophobia and a deft exploration of the wrongness of forced marriage. The growing tenderness between Jean and Muirin is written beautifully, and as the stakes get higher and the husband turns into a menacing antagonist the story almost turns into a horrific tale, with palpable tension woven in the narration.

The cast was fantastic. Jean, the protagonist and only POV, a midwife with a secret in her past that led her to being ostracised for a long while, stuns with her bravery and her kindness. Muirin is a perfect match, a loving mother and a brave character whose playfulness shines through sometimes, with a secret of her own. The crown jewels of the book are certainly their interactions, and especially the moments when Jean teaches English to Muirin. Jean's mentor and her friend, a mother and son, take a bigger role than expected; Jean's relationship with her mentor is beautifully explored, especially in one touching moment, but it's the small moments with the other townsfolk, as we see Jean carve a new life for herself, that really stir the heart. Muirin's husband is an excellent antagonist, a stalking threat who believes that possession is love.

The mystery is built up slowly, with little clues here and there, but it's easy to clock in on the truth even if one picked up the book only thinking it a work of historical fiction. Jean is perhaps a little slower to catch on, but when she does, it's with a heart full of love. The full scope of the revelations however is a surprise even to a more savvy reader.

A Sweet Sting of Salt is a stunning debut.

✨ 4 stars

Snippet: Merciless Waters, by Rae Knowles

Aboard the ship Scylla, there is no future or past. Jaq, her fickle lover Lily, and their all-female crew exist in an endless present. It’s better this way. At least it keeps Lily by Jaq’s side, where she belongs. But the meddling gods care little for Jaq’s longing, and despite her protective rituals, their punishment arrives all the same: a man, adrift on the open ocean. Delivered to snatch Lily from Jaq’s arms forever.
Jaq knows what to do. She’s lost Lily before. Her lover will return—when this interloper, this distraction, is snuffed out. But Jaq’s murderous schemes may not be enough. The intruder’s presence infects her crew with a plague her spells cannot cure: memory. And as the women recall how they came to Scylla, their minds bend one by one towards revenge.

"We crave violence, so we swallow violent men". Rae Knowles' Merciless Waters is a sapphic novella with horror undertones that are inspired by the figure of the rusalka. The narrator lulls the reader with her story, and the slow return of her memories, while thoughts of vengeance tint the narration with blood and gore. The lyrical prose and the oneiric images make for a little gem of a story, where violence against women is punished with relish. The sea krait was a delightful addition.

✨ 4 stars

📚📚📚 IF YOU LOVE THIS, YOU MIGHT LIKE:

* Providence Girls, by Morgan Dante

for: sea horrors, existential dread

Review: Providence Girls, by Morgan Dante

Love changes you. So do the Outer Gods. Alone in a cottage, Lavinia writes to the woman she loved. Fifteen years ago, middle-aged Lavinia Whateley escaped her hilly Massachusetts town when the townsfolk decided to sacrifice her on Halloween. After almost dying in the woods, she's saved and housed by the stoic and mysterious Asenath Waite, or Azzie. On the coastal outskirts of East Providence, they start to fall in love.
However, things change when Azzie, with her secret past and the strange "scars" on the side of her neck, begins to transform into an eldritch creature of the deep.

"To dance fiery and without abandon after you've lost everything". Morgan Dante's Providence Girls is a sapphic horror story that draws heavily from Lovecraftian lore. Brimming with body horror and upsetting imagery, it's a tale of finding comfort and compassion against all odds, of finding solace in companionship. The book starts off with a helpful list of trigger warnings. I don't usually read horror - I'm too much of a scaredy cat - but the plot intrigued me and I told myself it couldn't be that bad. Boy, was I wrong!

Being unfamiliar with Lovecraft, I was wholly unprepared for what was coming, while still being somewhat familiar with the concepts enough that when certain names started dropping, I realized what was going on. Still, I kept reading because the prose is absolutely lovely, filled with stunning turns of phrase; the story is also incredibly compelling. It's set up as an epistolary novel, with an older Lavinia recounting their months together, while Azzie is writing as events unfold, and Lavinia is reading Azzie's words in the present. The format meant that I thought I had the outcome figured out, but I was pleasantly surprised.

For all the unspeakable horror in the story - not just the Lovecraftian horror, but the more mundane horror of domestic abuse - this is such a tender story of resilience and love. It's an ode to healing and overcoming your trauma, and to find body autonomy again.

Providence Girls is a delightful novella, but I wouldn't recommend it if you're squeamish.

✨ 4 stars

📚📚📚 IF YOU LOVE THIS, YOU MIGHT LIKE:

* The Faerie Hounds of York, by Arden Powell

for: body horror, disturbing imagery