ARC Review: Our Caged Fates, by Robin A. Costantin

 

In a frozen, hostile world, Elinros is on the run. After spending far too long in her beloved’s clutches—unaware of his true nature—she has now escaped into the arms of the unknown. But beyond Kastìel’s palace lies nothing but an endless forest, shaken by storms, buried in eternal snow, and teeming with monsters.
In that desolate land, Elinros wanders without memories, one step away from freezing to death and hunted by the man she thought she knew. That is, until an unexpected savior arrives, bringing truth, light, and warmth. Nattsòl is just like her: a survivor who escaped their beloved’s trap—and now she’s willing to do anything to get her revenge. But she needs Elinros’ help to stop him. Accompanied by Sliver, Nattsòl’s monster-dog, the two embark on a dangerous journey into the depths of the forest, where almost no light reaches and sinister things hide in the dark.

My thanks to the author for providing an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Robin A. Costantin's Our Caged Fates is an atmospheric sapphic novella about escaping an abusive relationship and finding oneself again. This is reached through the age-old amnesia trope, and it's done in a way that feels fresh and effective. It's teeming with horrific imagery and near-eldritch beings, with female rage and some upsetting body-horror; but it's also a story about second chances and love.

The main character Elinros slowly relearns things about herself, slowly changing over the course of the book; her relationship to fellow survivor Nattsòl develops quickly, since this is a short novella, but it feels believable. Maybe a few more pages would have helped sell the romance more, but it's still a nice touch, and Nattsòl is very well-developed despite the lack of point of view narration.

The final third of the book is where the action and the most vivid worldbuilding really take place, making this novella pop out. The prose is also quite lyrical, something that's to be appreciated even more since English isn't the author's first language.

Our Caged Fates is a quiet gem.

✨ 4 stars

 

ARC Review: Our Crimson Cage, by Ladz

 

Laura Toperz’s husband will be only gone for a week. Despite hiring a new maid to pick up her duties, she expects the days to go by as they do when her husband is present: mundanely and without incident. She is not prepared to solve a murder. Elżbieta dreams of riches. Being hired as a maid for the wealthy Toperz household might just be her ticket to security. After one of her shifts, she sneaks into the manor’s forbidden basement in search of treasure, hoping for valuables or jewels. Instead, she discovers something starving and solitary, begging to be unleashed. Elżbieta can only give in.
Soon, sanguinary terrors descend upon the town. Unaware of her maid’s transgression, Laura remembers the bloodthirsty woman trapped below: Karmila, who comforted her in her youth. Karmila, whom her late father swore was just an imaginary friend. Karmila, who now paints the town and its maidens red. Having escaped under her watch, Laura must decide what she’s willing to sacrifice to bring back peace and quell the lustful frenzy entrancing everyone around her. Even if it means herself.

My thanks to the author for providing an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Ladz's Our Crimson Cage is a gothic fever dream, taking place in Poland during the Nineteenth century and taking more than a little inspiration from Carmilla. This sharp sapphic novella stuns the reader with its decadent plot and explicit language, detailing the awakening of a monster and centuries of generational trauma bordering on the incestuous.

The book starts with a very informative list of trigger warnings that should be heeded. It is not for the faint of heart, and certainly not for anyone having misgivings about a little touch of blasphemy and broken taboos about menstrual blood. It is a vampire story, and it revels in all its gory and explicit elements, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination and leaving the reader absolutely begging for more.

At its core, it's a tale of liberation from society's constraints; from religion and patriarchy and any social constructs. It is not an easy story, but it leaves you questioning.

Our Crimson Cage is a decadent dessert.

✨ 4 stars

 

Review: The Fox and the Devil, by Kiersten White

 

Anneke has a complicated relationship with her father, Abraham Van Helsing—doctor, scientist, and madman devoted to studying vampires—up until the night she comes home to find him murdered, with a surreally beautiful woman looming over his body. A woman who leaves no trace behind, other than the dreams and nightmares that plague Anneke every night. Spurred by her desire for vengeance and armed with the latest in forensic and investigatory techniques, Anneke puts together a team of detectives to catch her mysterious serial killer. Because her father isn’t the only inexplicably dead body. There’s a trail of victims across Europe and Anneke is certain they’re all connected.
But during the years spent relentlessly hunting the killer, Anneke keeps some crucial evidence to herself: infuriatingly coy letters, addressed only to Anneke, occasionally soaked in blood, and always signed Diavola. Devil. The obsession is mutual, and all the more dangerous for it. The closer Anneke gets to her devil, though, the less sense the world makes. Maybe her father wasn’t a madman, after all. Diavola might be something much worse than a serial killer . . . and much harder to destroy. Because as Anneke unearths more of Diavola’s tragic past, she suspects there’s still a heart somewhere in that undead body. A heart that beats for Anneke alone.

​“Every contact leaves a trace.”

Kiersten White's The Fox and the Devil is a horror mystery filled with sapphic yearning. Much like the author's previous novel Lucy Undying (HERE you can find my review), it takes inspiration from Dracula, although at a much smaller level, only pulling out the character of Van Helsing as a starting point. Here we follow his daughter Anneke as she contends with the fact that monster are indeed real, and we follow her investigation across Europe as she hunts a hunter, a horrific serial killer. Having Dracula in mind meant that I had my own preconceptions about what was happening behind the scenes, and it was delightful to be proven wrong.

White instead writes something that is only marginally about vampires, and more about yearning and obsession and finding something to live for again. Despite her inner turmoil, Anneke is a competent character, a sharp detective, and together with her coterie of friends she solves impossible murders. Diavola is a great foil, and once we get to know her better, a fascinating character. The progression of their relationship, from foes to something more, is slow and quiet, keeping in line with the times.

The writing is simpler than White's previous novel, where she experimented with different formats with stunning results, but this is a quieter story. The author did a lot of research about the society and historical figures of the Nineteenth Century, and it shows. 

The Fox and the Devil is an excellent book.

✨ 4 stars

 

Review: This Vicious Hunger, by Francesca May

 

Thora Grieve finds herself destitute and an outcast after the sudden death of her husband only a few weeks into their marriage, but a glimmer of hope arrives when a family friend offers her spot at a university to study botany under a famed professor. Once at the university Thora becomes entranced by a mysterious young woman, Olea, who emerges each night to tend to the plants in the professor's private garden.
Thora soon discovers that a mysterious illness prevents Olea from leaving the garden. Hungry for connection, Thora befriends Olea through the garden gate and their relationship quickly and intensely blossoms. The visceral connection between Thora and Olea unlocks an obsessive desire in Thora as she throws herself into finding a cure for Olea's ailment. But is this really love or is it merely lustful intoxication? Thora's finally found the freedom to pursue her deepest desires, but at what cost?

"Nobody liked to be reminded of the proximity of grief; least of all the young and beautiful." 

Francesca May's This Vicious Hunger is a sapphic gothic horror novel about grief and finding one’s place as a woman in a world where women can do very little, and about overcoming abuse. The themes are very strong and the writing beautifully lyrical, but the plot is all over the place while slowly ambling, and the characters are a bit cardboard, with the sole exception of the narrator. 

The worldbuilding is confusing, using Latin and some imagery that makes it seem like it's a historical novel, but some other things point towards a secondary world. That being so unclear pulls the reader out.

The most intriguing part is certainly the focus on plants and a form of vampirism, but the abrupt end and the lack of closure doesn't do it any favors.

This Vicious Hunger doesn't hold up to its premise.

✨ 3 stars

 

Snippet: The Gilda Stories, by Jewelle Gomez

 

This remarkable novel charts the unending life of Gilda, a young woman who - after escaping slavery in Louisiana in 1850 - is made into a vampire. After being initiated into eternal life as one who 'shares the blood', Gilda spends the next two hundred years searching for a way to exist in the world.

“Pledge yourself to pursue only life, never bitterness or cruelty.”

Jewelle Gomez' The Gilda Stories is a lesbian classic and an extraordinary exploration of the horror of slavery and racism, combined with all the trappings of a vampire novel. This literary classic doesn't have a plot per se, but it's more of a sequence of moments over the course of two hundred years, and the reader follows happily along as Gilda meets people and makes fundamental changes. At its core, it's a novel about being Black and queer in America, and about giving back what you're given. It's a healing experience, a beautiful read.

✨ 4 stars

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! 

Review: Lucy Undying, by Kiersten White

Her name was written in the pages of someone else's story: Lucy Westenra was one of Dracula's first victims. But her death was only the beginning. Lucy rose from the grave a vampire, and has spent her immortal life trying to escape from Dracula's clutches--and trying to discover who she really is and what she truly wants. Her undead life takes an unexpected turn when, in twenty-first-century London, she meets another woman who is also yearning to break free from her past. Iris’s family has built a health empire based on a sinister secret, and they’ll do anything to stay in power.
Lucy has long believed she would never love again. But she finds herself compelled by the charming Iris, while Iris is mesmerized by the confident and glamorous Lucy. But their intense connection and blossoming love is threatened by forces from without. Iris's mother won't let go of her without a fight, and Lucy's past still has fangs: Dracula is on the prowl again. Lucy Westenra has been a tragically murdered teen, a lonesome adventurer, and a fearsome hunter, but happiness always eluded her. Can she find the strength to destroy Dracula once and for all, or will her heart once again be her undoing?

"We're mausoleums, holding the girls we were with tenderness, and love, and strength."

Kiersten White's Lucy Undying is a sapphic and feminist retelling of Dracula, told through the perspective of Lucy Westenra and spanning one hundred and fifty years. There are two timelines; one set in the present, where a young woman escaping a cult finds young Lucy's diary, detailing her version of the Dracula novel, and the other detailing the years after the end of the Dracula novel, with Lucy searching for meaning, for Dracula, and for herself. The two storylines converge into a soft sapphic romance and an explosive ending where a conspiracy is unearthed and dealt with.

This is a novel about sapphic yearning, finding your true self, forgiving yourself, and the struggle against patriarchy. It's also a radical retelling of some core aspects of the original novel, and staunch fans of the book might not appreciate those changes, but they work in the context of this story, and make for an interesting perspective. The way these changes are tied to the present storyline works well enough, turning the book into a kind of thriller.

The final third of the book loses the balance of the first two thirds a little, as the cult storyline takes precedence and a new PoV is added in the form of short glimpses into the mind of a predator. Almost like in Dracula, the author plays a lot with different kinds of narrative styles, employing first person narration, second person, letters and texts, a third person section, and bits that read a little like Anne Rice's Interview with the Vampire. This might feel chaotic at first, but it's handled deftly enough.

The book shines with the vividly painted vampires Dracula created over the years, especially three figures that return again and again in Lucy's tale, and gives justice and agency to Lucy, painting the tragedy of being a young woman trapped by societal rules. Her journey is really the focal point of the novel, while also portraying the trappings of modern day cult-like organizations.

Lucy Undying is a sumptuous retelling.

✨ 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: An Education in Malice, by S.T. Gibson

Deep in the forgotten hills of Massachusetts stands Saint Perpetua's College. Isolated and ancient, it is not a place for timid girls. Here, secrets are currency, ambition is lifeblood, and strange ceremonies welcome students into the fold. On her first day of class, Laura Sheridan is thrust into an intense academic rivalry with the beautiful and enigmatic Carmilla. Together, they are drawn into the confidence of their demanding poetry professor, De Lafontaine, who holds her own dark obsession with Carmilla.
But as their rivalry blossoms into something far more delicious, Laura must confront her own strange hungers. Tangled in a sinister game of politics, bloodthirsty professors and dark magic, Laura and Carmilla must decide how much they are willing to sacrifice in their ruthless pursuit of knowledge.

"Face death bravely, and greet her as a lover."

S.T. Gibson's An Education in Malice is a sapphic dark academia with vampires, loosely connected to the author's A Dowry Of Blood and inspired by the classic Carmilla, although the inspiration ends at the names. The titular character enters a heated academic rivalry with the seemingly innocent Laura, while the two work under the tutelage of their poetry professor, a mysterious figure with her own agenda.

Their two POVs entwine as they navigate their attraction and their battle for their teacher's attention; Laura struggles with her own desires, which she can only safely explore with the help of erotic fiction, while Carmilla is trapped in an inappropriate relationship with her mentor. Gradually, the two will come together and overcome their hurdles, while also coming into their own.

The prose is exquisite, with lovely turns of phrase, and the obsessive nature of their fascination is mirrored by the lush descriptions and the carnality of the world they come into. The attraction between Carmilla and Laura culminates when they are invited to a vampiric bacchanalia, with voyeuristic plays and public sex. We also meet a few older vampires, expanding the world and giving it depth.

The book seems to be a standalone, but I would love something else with the same characters. Perhaps I would have preferred a singular POV, to add to the intrigue, but this worked as well.

An Education in Malice is a deliciously debauched retelling.

✨ 4 stars

📚📚📚 IF YOU LOVE THIS, YOU MIGHT LIKE:

* In the Roses of Pieria, by Anna Burke

for: academia, deeper history

ARC Review: The Fealty of Monsters, by Ladz

Winter 1917. After years on the run from a dangerous cult, twenty-three-year-old Sasza and his father have established themselves among the Odonic Empire’s ruling class. But there’s a problem: Sasza is a vampire, and vampires aren’t supposed to get involved in human governance. What the aristocracy doesn’t know, after all, cannot hurt them. Unfortunately, Sasza is far more involved than a stealth vampire should be. Not only does he work to quell the rumors of the vampires’ responsibility for an unsolved massacre, his lover is also the pro-proletariat Ilya, the Empire’s Finance Minister, who tries to recruit Sasza into the same cult hunting him.
Then—the Emperor declares war against the Vampire States. Diplomacy has failed. Sasza quickly learns that he will do anything to preserve peace–including giving in to the monstrosity he spent so many years concealing from even himself.

My thanks to the author for providing an ARC copy.

Ladz's The Fealty of Monsters is a gory retelling of the Russian Revolution, with monstrous vampires and even more monstrous politicians. We follow three POV characters as tensions amongst the Empire and independent vampire states are ramped up by an incident that seems tailored to ignite a war. The main character, Sasza, battles with his own depravity and the ambitions of others, while coming to terms with his relationship with a much older member of the government.

This is a highly political book, with characters who have complex motivations, from the ambitious princess to Sasza's addicted father, from the traitorous Minister to the soldiers who have very different ideas about their role as protectors; not to mention the intriguing vampire doctor. Characters share a past that is carefully unveiled in some cases, giving tantalizing glimpses. The court is full of intrigue, and war seems inevitable; the conflict between the poverty of the people and the excesses of the aristocracy was also done well, leading to an explosive finale that leaves the reader on the edge of their seat and begging for the next book in the series.

The book is very crude, with an evocative prose that leaves nothing to the imagination, be it sexual acts or murder. It comes with a very helpful list of trigger warnings, which the reader should pay every attention to. The vampires in this book are not refined creatures, as there are some types which are truly monstrous, insectoid creatures who engorge themselves on blood and gore. This was a very refreshing take on the usual vampire trope, more reminiscent of the classics.

The book comes with illustrations from the artist Soren Häxan, but the ARC copy didn't contain them.

The Fealty of Monsters is a solid horror story with political overtones.

✨ 4 stars

Review: In the Roses of Pieria, by Anna Burke

When Clara Eden is offered a job as an archivist working for eccentric estate owner Agatha Montague, she thinks her prayers have been answered. Soon, she finds herself sucked into her research world, captivated by a romantic correspondence thousands of years old. But as her feelings for her employer's assistant, Fiadh, deepen, so does her suspicion that something about Agatha Montague isn't right. Unfortunately for Clara, it is far too late to run by the time her suspicions are confirmed.

"I'll paint your face into the histories". Anna Burke's In the Roses of Pieria is a sapphic horror novel with a complex worldbuilding and academic overtones that really enrich the experience. The story is interspersed with a millennia-old correspondence that tugs at the heartstrings with its lyrical passages and references to Sappho's fragments, while slowly unease creeps into Clara and the readers alike as the main character realizes the truth behind the letters.

The fictional Nektopolis, created by the author as a backdrop to such an ancient love story, is so vividly described that makes one wonder whether it's real; the novel begins with an academic discussion that goes on for pages and sets the atmosphere well. The genre-savvy reader will understand immediately what takes Clara a little more time to wrap her head around, but the novel is still full of surprises with an exciting (and mildly horrific) take on the fae.

As the story unfolds, so does the love story between Clara and Fiadh, speeding through the unraveling horror making itself known. Fiadh is a compelling love interest, mysterious and intricate in her loyalties, but fierce in her passions. The adventurous second part of the novel allows to explore her more as a character, and revelations abound. The story, while pretty self-contained, ends with an abrupt cliffhanger that leaves you wanting the second installment in the duology immediately.

In the Roses of Pieria is a gloriously weird sapphic vampire story.

✨ 5 stars

📚📚📚 IF YOU LOVE THIS, YOU MIGHT LIKE:

* A Long Time Dead, Samara Breger

for: sapphic vampires, love through the ages

Review: A Long Time Dead, by Samara Breger

1837. Poppy had always loved the night, which is why it wasn’t too much of a bother to wake one evening in an unfamiliar home far from London, weak and confused and plagued with a terrible thirst for blood, to learn that she could no longer step out into the day. And while vampirism presented several disadvantages, it more than made up for those in its benefits: immortality, a body that could run at speed for hours without tiring, the thrill of becoming a predator, the thing that pulls rabbits from bushes and tears through their fur and flesh with the sharp point of a white fang.
And, of course, Roisin. The mysterious woman who has lived for centuries, who held Poppy through her painful transformation, and who, for some reason, is now teaching her how to adjust to her new, endless life. A tight, lonely, buttoned-up woman, with kindness and care, pressed up behind her teeth. The time they spend together is as transformative to Poppy as the changes in her body, and soon, she finds herself hopelessly, overwhelmingly attached. But Roisin has secrets of her own, and can’t make any promises; not when vengeance must be served. Soon, their little world explodes. Together and apart, they encounter scores of vampires, shifty pirates, conniving opera singers, ancient nobles, glamorous French women, and a found family that throws a very particular sort of party. But overhead, threat looms—one woman who is capable of destroying everything Poppy and Roisin hold dear.

"I want to watch you split the world like an orange and drink the juice". Samara Breger's A Long Time Dead is a phenomenal standalone sapphic vampire tale that reads like the best Anne Rice. Breger's vampires seem to borrow a few things from The Vampire Chronicles, but they're so full of life that it's a joy to read. We're thrown right into the thick of action as Poppy wakes up after being turned and she spends the first part of her new life being helped through the transition by a tragic figure that she immediately comes to love. What follows is a slow and tormented and rich journey towards a found family; a tale about belonging and about overcoming abuse in a relationship.

Poppy isn't a gloomy protagonist; she's a ray of sunshine, and she cares deeply. Even when she faces hardships, she keeps her sunny personality. She's crass at times, but she's so alive, in every way. She loves the joys of food, and in fact the loss of it is one of the first things she bemoans when she realizes that now she has to feed exclusively on blood. Before being turned she was a sex worker, and she's always very candid in her desires. The numerous sex scenes in the book are never gratuitous, and they're so well written.

In general, the prose is fantastic. There are turns of phrase that grip you and amaze you and leave you reeling. Breger plays with the tropes of the genre and crafts a unique tale brimming with exhilarating tidbits and cameos and also fully exploring Catholic guilt. The choice to give very few chapters to Roisin works well, because we're given front seats to the depth of Poppy's devotion. Roisin is driven and consumed by the need for revenge, self-sacrificing; but gradually she finds her will to live again.

The rest of the cast is delightful, from Poppy's oldest friend to the Coven she finds, five vampires that welcome her into their lives and love her unconditionally; from her new mortal maid, just as foul-mouthed as her, to the incredible villain, a despicable and amoral character. Every thread is accounted for, every hint acknowledged and resolved and brought to a satisfying conclusion.

A Long Time Dead is a joyous gothic tale.

✨ 4.5 stars