ARC Review: The Saint of Heartbreak, by Morgan Dante

After his betrayal with a kiss, Judas Iscariot dies in despair and goes to Hell. When Christ saves other souls during the Harrowing of Hell, he leaves Judas behind—but not alone in the ninth circle, where the most detestable traitors go. Callous, resigned, and abandoned by God long ago, the Devil sees Judas as a pathetic wretch, but he soon finds a kindred spirit. As the centuries pass, they struggle to find even a sliver of happiness in Hell. Doomed by the narrative, will they find happiness, or will their story continue to be a tragedy?

My thanks to the author for providing an ARC copy.

Morgan Dante's The Saint of Heartbreak is a story some might find blasphemous, but at its core, it's a story about finding companionship in the direst circumstances, and finding forgiveness within oneself. The first chapters, depicting events from the New Testament, set quickly the scene, introducing the reader to Judas through the eyes of Yeshua; the rest of the book is from Lucifer's POV, and it does get the reader to sympathise with the Devil. Morgan Dante's Hell is not Dante's Inferno, but a gentler place than one might expect - while being very clearly a place of eternal torment.

The relationship between Judas and Lucifer grows organically, from a tentative fascination to a kind of friendship; transactional sex becomes tender as all veils fall and their souls are laid bare. The choise to never have Judas' POV is interesting, because we only see him through someone else's eyes: he's tormented by what he's done, by his betrayal, by the loss of Yeshua, and he often seeks way to punish himself, but slowly finds a way to forgive himself. And Lucifer, in turn, grows to make peace with his past.

This book wouldn't work without the presence of Lucifer's fantastic supporting cast. Hell isn't explored thoroughly, but rather painted with a few vignettes, exploring other circles, other damned, and the Dukes of Hell. Lilith in particular makes for an incredible secondary character. Even a few Angels make an appearance, and the little snippets of the Fall are harrowing, showing the casual cruelty of the so-called good side.

Dante's writing is, as usual, exquisite. There's a few odd turns of phrase, but generally speaking, the vibes are always immaculate with this author.

The Saint of Hearbreak is an unexpected treasure.

✨ 4 stars

Review: Unholy with Eyes like Wolves, by Morgan Dante

Noémie, a dishonored and widowed noblewoman in early 17th century Hungary, finds herself in an unenviable position: after grievous trauma and loss, her last chance to regain her honor comes when she must serve as Lady Erzsébet Báthory’s handmaiden. Báthory is stoic and imperious, and as Noémie struggles to acclimate and accept her present and future, she begins to have dreams about a mysterious woman. Worse, there are stories of disappearance and deaths in the castle, and Noémie might be next.

"Sometimes, we need monsters to protect us."

Morgan Dante's Unholy with Eyes like Wolves is a gory sapphic exploration of the horrors of life as a woman, set in Hungary and drawing on the myth of Erzsébet Báthory and the story of Carmilla, throwing in the mix a sympathetic protagonist that isn't afraid to get her hands dirty. Noémie holds her own as a character in her own right, surrounded by the figures of legends, and her journey is both touching and invigorating.

The book delves deep into themes of grief, mortality, morality, and self-actualization, weaving a tragedy steeped in languid eroticism that climaxes in sex scenes that are gory and bloody and deeply sensual. The prose is excellent, a slow and rich journey, but it's plagued by a number of typos that destroy the magic a little.

The 17th-century Hungary setting is clearly researched, even with phrases sprinkled throughout the text, and the exploration of the politics of the time is certainly intriguing.

The almost-female cast is the real gem of this book, with the relationships that are woven not only between the three women at the center, but also with the serving women at the castle and with others, and especially the strong bonds of sisterhood explored when the three wise women help Noémie with an abortion. The book, as one might imagine, tackles triggering topics, but does it expertly.

Unholy with Eyes like Wolves is a decadent delight.

✨ 4.5 stars

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