Book Review: The Break-Up Retreat by Camilla Sten
Posted on August 21, 2026 6 Comments
I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.
The Break-Up Retreat by Camilla Sten
Mogsy’s Rating: 3 of 5 stars
Genre: Mystery, Thriller
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Minotaur Books (June 9, 2026)
Length: 320 pages
Author Information: Website
When I need a good pick-me-up thriller, I know I can always count on Camilla Sten for a Nordic mystery treat. They’re pretty predictable, but comfortingly so, and at this point, I know exactly what I’m getting into. In fact, coming on the heels of The Bachelorette Party, The Break-Up Retreat marks back-to-back books from the author featuring groups of women heading off to isolated settings where they probably shouldn’t be, which is starting to feel like its own little offshoot genre.
The setup this time follows Isobel, a freelance journalist arriving in the Swedish wilderness to check in to the remote Himlafall Clinic, a wellness retreat that promises to help women recover from heartbreak. But our protagonist is actually here under false pretenses, hoping to find out more about the controversial approach used by Dr. Martina Hastings, the clinic’s founder. While the famed psychiatrist’s work has been lauded by many, there are just as many critics—including former patients—who claim that her intensive therapy methods are damaging and manipulative. There are even rumors that at least one woman she’s treated has gone missing after leaving Himlafall. Embroiled in a personal scandal herself, Isobel has her own reasons for wanting to expose Martina as a quack and a fraud, determining this to be the perfect opportunity to land the story she needs.
But her plans fall apart almost immediately. First, the contact she has on the inside is unable to meet her, leaving her especially vulnerable to discovery by the watchful staff. All her electronic devices are also confiscated, though she is able to smuggle in a secret phone to record her findings. Finally, there are the other clients staying at the clinic, many of whom are devoted followers of Martina Hastings and completely committed to the doctor’s teachings, making it difficult for Isobel to know whom she can trust. As she tries to maintain her cover, gather information, and figure out what happened to the women who came before her, she realizes that getting the story she came for may be considerably more difficult and dangerous than she anticipated.
In a nutshell, The Break-Up Retreat is a quick, entertaining mystery that doesn’t ask too much of its audience, and sometimes a palate cleanser between darker, heavier reads is exactly what I need. It’s shallow, ridiculous in places, not particularly complex, but I had fun. There’s a certain formula with contemporary thrillers, and Sten knows how to work with it. I also liked how this book didn’t try to be more profound than it needed to be. There are some ideas here about emotional manipulation and power dynamics in relationships, but the story is primarily concerned in keeping you turning the pages.
That said, I did say it wasn’t particularly deep. There were plenty of moments where these women made decisions that had me sitting there thinking, Are you serious?! How anyone can find themselves in that situation and still think, Yep, this seems like a perfectly reasonable therapeutic experience, is beyond me. Then there’s the breach of confidentiality. You’d think even the dimmest person could recognize that being stranded in the middle of nowhere while subjected to increasingly disturbing, abusive, and humiliating treatment, which starts looking an awful lot like a struggle session, is probably not the healthiest way to get over a breakup. Or, you know, anything.
Another issue was that some of the supporting characters were pure stereotypes. There was the emotionally fragile one, the confrontational one, the true believer, and so on and so forth. Isobel herself was also a bit of a disappointing pushover for someone who initially came with such strong convictions and a very specific agenda. I expected her to be a little more willing to push back before things started going completely sideways, but she spends a surprising amount of time being taken in by Martina’s charms when they should have been setting off every one of her investigative journalist alarm bells. Granted, that’s part of the entertainment. What begins as an unconventional therapy program gradually takes a much darker turn as the women are subjected to increasingly extreme exercises. As the boundaries of what they’re willing to endure are pushed further and further, I’m just here with the popcorn watching as tensions boil over and personalities clash.
So, if you’re already a fan of Camillla Sten, The Break-Up Retreat is another dependable thriller from a steady and conventional author who nonetheless has become a must-read for me. This is my fourth book by her, and I keep coming back because I appreciate her books about messy, questionable people who do messy, questionable things while waiting to see who finally snaps. The stories might not stick with you for very long, but I do have a good time reading them, and this would be a solid choice if you want something quick and entertaining.
Book Review: The Calamities by Chuck Wendig
Posted on August 19, 2026 4 Comments
I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.
The Calamities by Chuck Wendig
Mogsy’s Rating: 3 of 5 stars
Genre: Horror, Fantasy
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Del Rey (August 18, 2026)
Length: 558 pages
Author Information: Website
Chuck Wendig has a knack for coming up with premises which make me keep coming back for more, even when I know there’s a decent chance I’ll have some issues with the execution. The Calamities is another one of those books. It’s urban fantasy that’s dark, weird, and occasionally gruesome, which is very much in keeping with the author’s trademark strangeness. Unfortunately, though, it also falls into some of the usual pitfalls I’ve run into with his work, where a compelling idea keeps expanding until it becomes more sprawling and complicated than interesting.
At the center of this story is Mourning Mayne, scion to an ancient and powerful house of fiends, demonic beings who have gained and maintained their influence since time immemorial by buying human souls. Their lives are sustained by a strange elixir created from those souls which give the Maynes and the other fiendish families their supernatural abilities, thus making the business of collecting souls as much a part of their inheritance as their wealth and power. But Mourning has never been particularly interested in being involved in family affairs, especially given all the ugliness it entails. He had been more than happy to exile himself to the opposite side of the county as soon as he was able, leaving his twin siblings to deal with the matter of who would eventually inherit their father’s legacy.
But the Mayne patriarch, Hadrian, has other plans. Out of nowhere, he summons his wayward son home, and Mourning suddenly finds himself pulled back into the world he’d desperately wanted to leave behind. Despite everything, the desire to make his father proud is a difficult habit to break, and when Hadrian announces that he intends to make Mourning his heir, our protagonist is left with a jumble of emotions he barely has time to process before his father disappears along with their house’s reserve of soul elixir. Naturally, the other fiendish families take notice, with accusations flying and old grudges resurfacing. Mourning is soon confronted by Key, a soul dealer with whom he has a complicated history, and discovers that she hasn’t really been out of his life at all, having secretly kept an eye on him the whole time he was away. And now, the two of them find themselves working together to unravel the mystery, their search eventually leading them to a mysterious artist whose connection to the fiends is far more important and potentially dangerous than anyone realizes.
The concept behind The Calamities had all the ingredients to make it instantly appealing to me. I’ve always had a soft spot for the black sheep of the family trope, and while it’s hardly a new idea, I was curious to see how Wendig would put his own spin on it within this particular world of demonic families and trafficked human souls. Mourning’s decision to walk away from this system of exploitation gives the story a solid foundation, and there’s also potential in the setup of him being dragged right back in, forced to accept his destiny. I mean, there are so many ways this could play out.
Yet, I’m sad to say the execution didn’t quite live up to the promise. What starts off as relatively tight storytelling gradually frays to become much more sprawling and unfocused. I wasn’t a fan of Key’s or Quinn’s POVs, which introduced even more characters and layers of mythology, much of which felt questionable in its relevance and ultimately served more to complicate the story than enhance it. Eventually, the plot grew to such bloated proportions, it became difficult to keep track of what was actually important, and I found myself feeling less interested and invested as it wore on.
This is also where I run into a somewhat recurrent issue with Wendig’s books. He clearly has a very distinctive voice, and I love that he’s willing to get weird, but sometimes it feels like it’s weirdness for weirdness’s sake rather than because it actually serves the story. His writing occasionally seems more interested in reminding me how unconventional the book is than in letting the story speak for itself. While some of it worked for me, other moments felt forced, and by the end, I couldn’t help thinking about how much more effective this could have been if it had simply trusted its strongest ideas and given them more room to breathe.
Ultimately, I think The Calamities would have benefited from a little more cohesiveness. The novel spends so much time building toward something enormous, with the ending throwing revelation after revelation at you, suggesting that everything is about to come crashing down. But by that point, I think I was more confused and skeptical than anything. That’s not to say I had a bad experience, as there was plenty here I genuinely enjoyed, particularly the core concept. But I also spent a good portion of the book wishing it would start reining things in rather than continuing to expand the scope. The final pages clearly leave the door open for a sequel, and if another book follows, I’ll more than likely give it a shot, though I do hope it will bring some focus to all these moving parts before the whole thing becomes too much to hold together.
Novella Review: Obstetrix by Naomi Kritzer
Posted on August 14, 2026 5 Comments
I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.
Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars
Genre: Thriller, Suspense
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Tordotcom (June 9, 2026)
Length: 195 pages
Author Information: Website
Naomi Kritzer’s Obstetrix is one of those books that I ended up enjoying more for what it is than for what I expected it to be. Going in, I thought it would be a little heavier on the topical commentary, perhaps leaning more into highlighting those anxieties surrounding its subject matter. Instead, I got a short, accessible survival thriller that lets those ideas sit in the background rather than constantly putting them front and center.
The story follows Dr. Elizabeth “Liz” Gwinn, an obstetrician who has recently been acquitted after performing a medically necessary abortion, but even though she was cleared in court, the experience has left her looking for a fresh start and a new place to work. The opportunity seems to come when she’s contacted by a woman claiming to be looking for an obstetrician for her organization, but their meeting turns out to be a trap. Liz winds up drugged, kidnapped, and transported to a remote compound at an undisclosed location, where she discovers that the woman who interviewed her is actually a member of a fundamentalist cult.
What this group wants is something disturbingly simple: they need a doctor to care for the compound’s women, many of whom are expected to marry young and have children. One of them, experiencing a complicated pregnancy, is due to give birth very soon and will need a cesarean section. With no intention of taking anyone to an outside hospital, the cult needs someone who can handle these types of high-risk situations, even when this patient happens to be their leader’s own daughter. Liz is essentially imprisoned and told to do her job or else she’ll meet the same fate as her predecessor, who was killed for refusing to comply. But despite being forced into service, she genuinely wants to help those in her care, all while wondering how many of them, like her, are there against their will. With the cult’s faithful constantly watching, however, she has no way of knowing who she can trust. So she quietly studies the compound, looking for weaknesses, potential allies, and any opportunity to make her escape.
What I liked most about Obstetrix is how quickly it gets moving. Coming in at a little less than 200 pages, it really has no choice, and this bite-sized format works well for a story like this. Once Liz is kidnapped, the book immediately shifts gears into her struggle to survive, with the added complication of all the other potential innocents around her. As a compassionate doctor, Liz is painfully aware of the young women and children who desperately need her, and refusing to provide care isn’t something she can seriously consider, even with the threat of death hanging over her. That makes her a big part of why the novella works. She’s smart and practical, knows her own limits, and carefully weighs when to act and when to wait. She approaches her situation the way a medical professional would: observing, asking questions, remembering details, and analyzing everything around her. I appreciate that she’s compassionate without being naïve, fully aware that her captors are using her sense of responsibility against her but unwilling to stop caring because of it.
That said, I wish the story had spent time diving deeper into Liz’s situation. We’re given glimpses of life around the compound and its inner workings, but these moments feel condensed compared to the amount of time she supposedly spends there, ultimately leaving the cult itself feeling somewhat underdeveloped. It’s a bit of a double-edged sword, though, because I understand why Kritzer wanted to keep Obstetrix a quick, accessible novella, but at the same time, it probably could have benefited from a better sense of just how much danger Liz was in. There were also missed opportunities to dig further into the psychological side of the cult and uncover more layers as to how its members are controlled. Still, it’s a fine balancing act, and I can appreciate the choice to keep the story moving rather than bog it down with details.
And honestly, that’s probably why I’d classify this much more as a thriller than anything else. It’s not particularly speculative, and I wouldn’t really call it horror either. Sure, the near-future setting mostly serves as a backdrop for a story that feels disturbingly plausible right now, but I was actually surprised by how little the book touched upon the broader social issues. While ideas of bodily autonomy and reproductive rights were certainly present, Kritzer never stalls the story by hammering them home, instead letting them emerge naturally from Liz’s experiences. That worked for me.
Overall, Obstetrix was a solid, entertaining read that I flew through much faster than I expected. It’s not nearly as sci-fi or horror-focused as I anticipated, but as a snappy tense thriller, it absolutely works. A little more depth would have been preferable, but I also appreciated the understated approach to its themes and found the whole thing suspenseful without becoming exhausting. Sometimes, a quick and straightforward story is exactly what you’re in the mood for.
Book Review: The Infinite State by Richard Swan
Posted on August 9, 2026 5 Comments
I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.
The Infinite State by Richard Swan
Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars
Genre: Science Fiction
Series: Book 1 of The Decurian Saga
Publisher: Orbit (August 4, 2026)
Length: 416 pages
Author Information: Website
Richard Swan is apparently taking a break from his usual fantasy fare and heading into science fiction. And well, The Infinite State is definitely a different setting, but at the same time, it still feels unmistakably like his work. Even though it took me a while to settle in this sprawling dystopian story, I found myself increasingly drawn into it once the pieces started falling into place.
The story follows three very different people living under the thumb of the oppressive Decurion Empire. First, we have Katherine Fuller, a wealthy widow who, in a moment of clarity following the devastating loss of her husband and son, finds herself doubting the system she has unquestioningly accepted her whole life. With her massive inheritance, she decides to do something that could put her on the wrong side of the Empire by purchasing a planet and attempting to establish something unthinkable: a democracy. Elsewhere, Cyprian Reis is a disgraced investigator who now scrapes by in the Empire’s criminal underbelly, also feeling disillusioned with the status quo. But soon, he’s pulled into a murder mystery that places him in the crosshairs of powerful people who would rather see the case disappear. Finally, there’s Julian Yashego, a rising star in the world of hypersled racing, one of the Empire’s most popular sports. An outsider, he had arrived expecting a chance to make a name for himself, only to get caught up in a political game he never expected to be part of.
At first, these three perspectives seem almost completely disconnected, and I’ll admit I wasn’t entirely sure where Swan was going to go with them. The early chapters spend a fair amount of time bouncing between the characters, and they all seem to find themselves in some variation of the same scenarios: secret meetings, getting threatened or beaten up, and being reminded exactly where they belong in the hierarchy of the almighty Empire. It made for a somewhat shaky, disjointed start. But thankfully, the story eventually finds its rhythm. As the separate threads begin to converge, the full picture finally comes into focus. I have always enjoyed watching Swan gradually bring everything together, as this is a structure I’ve noticed in his previous novels as well, where seemingly unrelated plotlines ultimately intersect in ways that make the larger story feel more cohesive.
The dystopian side of the book also worked surprisingly well for me. The Decurion Empire’s control has seeped into virtually every part of everyday life. People are monitored, expected to conform, and taught from birth that the system is not only necessary but desirable. Of course, none of these ideas are new or unique, but the book makes them feel genuinely unsettling, nonetheless. Just like good fantasy relies on convincing world-building, dystopian fiction has to make even its more extreme ideas feel believable. Here, there are details on how an authoritarian society might maintain itself, particularly the way people can become accustomed to this way of living when they are presented as simply the natural order of things. While the messaging isn’t exactly subtle, I thought it was effective.
The characters themselves were a bit more of a mixed bag. While each perspective brought something different to the table, I wouldn’t say I any one of them became a favorite. That’s not necessarily a bad thing though, as the author made each character a well-rounded person complete with a boatload of flaws. And indeed, none of them are straightforward heroes, victims of their circumstances and prone to make questionable decisions. Sometimes, they’re deep in denial. Sometimes, they make mistakes. For better or worse, it made them fun to read.
Overall, The Infinite State was a very solid start to what looks like an intriguing science fiction series. The story took its time to take off, but once it did, it became quite enjoyable. I’m definitely curious to see where Richard Swan takes this series next.
Book Review: A Trade of Blood by Robert Jackson Bennett
Posted on August 4, 2026 11 Comments
I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.
A Trade of Blood by Robert Jackson Bennett
Mogsy’s Rating: 5 of 5 stars
Genre: Fantasy, Mystery
Series: Book 3 of Shadow of the Leviathan
Publisher: Del Rey (August 4, 2026)
Length: 400 pages
Author Information: Website
I am already a huge fan of Robert Jackson Bennett’s Shadow of the Leviathan series, but even then, I honestly wasn’t prepared for just how incredible A Trade of Blood turned out to be. After two outstanding books, who would have thought it, but this might actually be my favorite installment so far, and that’s saying something because The Tainted Cup and A Drop of Corruption were already among my favorite fantasy mysteries in recent years.
This time, our investigative duo of Ana and Din are dispatched to the agricultural canton of Sapirdad, where two of the Empire’s most powerful families are locked in a bitter feud. Open violence seems all but inevitable when the son of one family appears to have brutally murdered the daughter of the other. With tensions already at a breaking point, it will take only one wrong move to ignite the powder keg, which means our protagonists must tread carefully, especially when they begin to suspect the young man may not be guilty after all.
Still, with the Empire’s food supply hanging in the balance, they had better be right. But anyone who’s followed Ana and Din knows nothing is ever simple, and this case is no exception. They immediately sense something amiss, uncovering signs suggesting this is more than just a tragedy born from generations of hatred. As they begin pulling at the threads, the mystery only grows stranger with each new clue, revealing unsettling biological phenomena and a conspiracy that reaches far beyond a single murder.
I’ve always had a soft spot for fantasy mysteries, and without a doubt, this series represents the genre at its very best. Every book has managed to captivate me, but this one took it one step further, holding me in its grip from the very first page. The setup alone is irresistible, featuring rival families, doomed young lovers, and political tensions threatening to boil over, not to mention an impossible murder that only Ana and Din could hope to untangle. You’ve got the “who”, “what”, “when”, and “why”, but then the story drops the surprising twist of the “how”: a bizarre mycological process explaining how such a crime can even be accomplished.
Better yet, I love how every book also manages to expand the series’ universe in meaningful ways. Another case means another corner of the Empire to explore, and each new place offers a fresh glimpse into how this imaginative world functions. Life in Sapirdad, for example, revolves around growing food and raising livestock, though of course, nothing described here resembles what we think of as ordinary farming. There are ideas here that feel like they came straight out of a fever dream, such as cats being conditioned to help harvest crops with the assistance of a brain-affecting cordyceps-like fungus, and yet somehow, impossibly, it all makes sense. I can only describe all this as absurdly brilliant.
In addition, the character work is every bit as satisfying. Ana remains delightfully eccentric, but for readers who have been on board since the first book, I suspect it will be Din who stands out for showing immense growth since the beginning of the series. For one, he’s no longer simply the assistant scrambling the keep up with Ana’s astounding intellect. He feels more like a true partner now, contributing observations and making connections, carrying much of the investigation in his own right. Watching his confidence steadily increase with each installment has been incredibly rewarding, and this one continues that arc. I also loved the supporting cast, particularly Din’s sister, whose introduction adds another welcome dimension to his personal story.
As always, the mystery itself is exceptionally constructed. Every clue matters, with each development building naturally on what came before, making the eventual solution feel at once shocking but also inevitable. Robert Jackson Bennett somehow manages to write mysteries that are intellectually satisfying and highly detailed while never sacrificing pacing or momentum. I devoured this book in record time, finding myself constantly saying “just one more chapter” until suddenly, there were no chapters left at all.
All that’s left to say is, the book hangover afterward was real, and I think that’s about the highest compliment I can give. A Trade of Blood isn’t just another excellent sequel, because it somehow even surpasses the two books I already adored. But between its addictive mystery and outstanding character work and fantasy worldbuilding, this is simply the genre firing on all cylinders, and if this series somehow wasn’t already on your radar, it definitely needs to be.
More on The BiblioSanctum:
Review of The Tainted Cup (Book 1)
Review of A Drop of Corruption (Book 2)
Book Review: The Traveler by Joseph Eckert
Posted on August 1, 2026 15 Comments
I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.
Mogsy’s Rating: 4.5 of 5 stars
Genre: Science Fiction
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Tor Books (June 9, 2026)
Length: 384 pages
Author Information: Website
I truly loved Joseph Eckert’s The Traveler. This is one of those books that quietly sneaks up on you. I had picked it up knowing little more than what’s available in the synopsis, expecting a sci-fi drama about a family torn apart by inexplicable time travel, but what I got was so much more than that, and so much more ambitious.
The story follows Scott Treder, an ordinary man having an ordinary morning when his life suddenly takes an impossible turn. One moment, he’s driving to work, and the next, the world blurs around him before snapping back into focus. To Scott, this only lasts a few seconds, but in reality, an entire day has passed. During those missing twenty-four hours, he’d simply disappeared, leaving his wife frantic and his coworkers wondering where he had gone. With no explanation, Scott assumes it must have been some kind of medical episode, until the exact same thing happens again the following morning. This time, however, two days go by. When again it happens, he loses four days. Then it’s eight. Sixteen. Every morning, at precisely the same time, the gap doubles, and before long, Scott is skipping months at a time, while his wife and young son are left behind to cope with his increasingly devastating absences. Though only days seem to pass for Scott, his family is forced to live through every moment in real time without him, causing irreparable damage to his marriage.
As Scott struggles with the grief of watching the people he loves move further and further beyond his reach, he also witnesses his son Lyle grow from a precocious child into a brilliant physicist whose entire life and career become shaped by the mystery surrounding what’s happening to his father. But what begins as an intimate story about one family’s struggle with an impossible situation gradually expands into something far more consequential. As the jumps stretch from years to decades, centuries, and even millennia, Scott becomes an unwilling traveler through humanity’s future, the personal and immediate effects of his condition giving way to the countless possibilities that lie ahead for civilization itself.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: time travel is a tricky subgenre for me because I have a bad habit of poking at the paradoxes or wondering how every detail works, and little things like that tend to pull me out of immersion. Thankfully, The Traveler is one of those rare novels that is engaging and emotionally resonant enough that I stopped worrying about the mechanics and simply enjoyed the thought-provoking journey.
For one, I was surprised at the punch it packed. Beneath all the speculative elements is a moving story between a father and a son, and despite everything else that happens, this is the core of the novel that grounds everything else. Whenever Scott comes back to himself after a jump, he only has a day before it happens again. Because the gaps increase exponentially, it doesn’t take long before he’s losing years then decades at a time, seeing Lyle as a college student one day and a middle-aged man the next. Watching Scott cling to these scattered moments with his son while imagining the life he was robbed of is genuinely heartbreaking. I am reminded that the best science fiction has always been about the characters first and the concepts second.
At the same time, the family drama is only one small part of the whole. The author also uses Scott’s condition to explore one fascinating idea after another, a thought experiment on what human civilization might look like as the centuries and millennia roll by. The approach to time travel itself is unique but also easy to understand, so rather than getting bogged down in endless explanations it just stays focused on telling the story. Sure, if you’re determined to get your questions answered, you’ll probably be disappointed. But the narrative is so imaginative, the pacing so addictive, that I didn’t care.
That said, the final stretch, including the ending, was a little dubious. As I said, the story gradually shifts away from the personal and the immediate, turning to bigger and more theoretical and existential ideas. Personally, I have mixed feelings about the ending, though if I’m being honest, there’s probably no good way to wrap things up that would satisfy everyone. By this point, the scope has expanded to such an enormous scale that any conclusion would fail to match its weight.
Still, The Traveler turned out to be one of my favorite surprises of the year. It’s imaginative without becoming too inaccessible, and thoughtful without being overly sentimental. I enjoyed myself immensely even when I had no idea where it was headed. This one will easily find a place near the top of my end-of-year favorites list, though I suspect it will fly under a lot of radars, so do check it out if you’re looking for a hidden gem.
Book Review: Sea of Charms by Sarah Beth Durst
Posted on July 30, 2026 7 Comments
I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.
Sea of Charms by Sarah Beth Durst
Mogsy’s Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars
Genre: Fantasy, Romance
Series: Book 3 of The Spellshop
Publisher: Bramble (July 28, 2026)
Length: 369 pages
Author Information: Website
Having now read all three books by Sarah Beth Durst set in the world that began with The Spellshop, I had a pretty good idea of what I was getting into with Sea of Charms. Each novel follows a different protagonist and can absolutely be read as a standalone, but there are enough familiar faces and callbacks that longtime readers will appreciate the connections. In fact, we’ve met the protagonist of this book before: the seafaring adventurer and her loyal sea serpent who now take the series’ signature cozy romantasy formula out onto the open sea.
Marin makes her living as a supply runner, sailing her enchanted boat between the settlements of the Crescent Isles with Perri the sea serpent by her side. But even though she loves life on the water, she’s sailing under the twin anchors of a broken heart and a crushing debt that threatens all that her family has worked for. Not only did the man she had been engaged to betray her, but he’d also left her parents saddled with the massive loan which had been taken out to buy her boat. Determined to make things right, Marin throws herself into her work, taking on every delivery she can in the hopes of paying the money back before her family loses everything.
What she doesn’t expect is for her routine to be disrupted by a revolution in the capital. Instead of hauling cargo, Marin suddenly finds herself smuggling refugees to safety. One of them is Dax, a composer from the royal conservatory with whom she has a close friendship. To both their surprises, he takes well to life aboard her boat, asking to remain a little longer to experience the freedom of the open sea. Before long, however, Marin must return home to attend her village’s annual festival, where she’s dreading an inevitable encounter with her ex-fiancé. On a whim, she and Dax hatch up a plan where he will pretend to be her new romantic partner, which would make things a little easier to bear. But as the lines between ruse and reality begin to blur, Marin can’t help wondering if she’s playing a dangerous game. For sooner or later, Dax will have to return to the conservatory where he truly belongs, and she will have to admit he’s becoming more than just a friend.
Durst’s cozy fantasy stories always feel like a warm hug. This world in particular is full of the usual comforts like whimsical creatures, gentle humor, supportive friendships, and characters who are genuinely good people and who inevitably are awarded happy endings. That copacetic atmosphere is alive and well here, and I continue to appreciate how effortlessly these books provide that without sacrificing the overall vision of the series. Meanwhile, there are enough changes from one installment to the next to keep things from feeling completely repetitive. With Marin taking center stage, the story swaps village life for island-hopping shenanigans, magical ports, and life aboard a TARDIS-like boat. As someone who enjoys maritime settings, I appreciated the change in scenery.
That said, I also think we’ve reached a point where series fatigue is starting to set in. Sea of Charms is exactly what fans of these books have come to love and expect, which is great on the one hand, if that’s precisely what you’re looking for. Others might find the novelty has begun to wear off. The formula is still familiar in that the story has settled comfortably into the same rhythms and themes, but even the references to the people and events in those books, while fun in theory, have become so par for the course that certain stops on Marin’s journey sometimes felt less like they belonged to her and more like an opportunity to remind readers of where we’ve been before.
Marin herself was a bit of a mixed bag for me. While I admired her work ethic and her devotion to her family, I found myself growing increasingly frustrated with the way she she denies herself happiness, all because she believes she must carry every burden alone. Her parents, on the other hand, appear oddly carefree and indifferent to the fact their daughter is running herself ragged. I know these books are all about the low stacks, but I still need to be convinced the characters themselves view those stakes as meaningful. I understand what the author was trying for emotionally, but there were times when the drama felt more manufactured than organic, making it harder for me to fully back Marin.
In the end, Sea of Charms is another solid cozy fantasy set in one of my favorite comfort worlds. While I wasn’t quite as smitten with it as I was with The Spellshop, I still really enjoyed it, and I think you will too if you’re a fan of stories filled with kindness, found family, and sweet romance.
More on the BiblioSanctum:
Review of The Spellshop (Book 1)
Review of The Enchanted Greenhouse (Book 2)
Book Review: The Winter Folk by Jen Julian
Posted on July 25, 2026 9 Comments
I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.
Mogsy’s Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars
Genre: Horror, Fantasy
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Run For It (July 21, 2026)
Length: 384 pages
Author Information: Website | Twitter
I was drawn to The Winter Folk by Jen Julian because, honestly, who can resist Appalachian gothic horror? Well, the book nailed the eerie and folkloric atmosphere all right, conjuring a wonderfully haunted sense of place. But it also set me up for something much more horror-forward than what the story ultimately turned out to be. Instead, this felt more like a dark faerie-type fantasy, which I didn’t necessarily dislike, but it certainly wasn’t what I had expected.
The story follows Vera, whose difficult childhood was shaped by the legends surrounding the mysterious Winter Folk of rural Appalachia. According to the lore, they reside at Deerhaven, a hidden lodge where strange, otherworldly guests gather each winter. Desperate to leave the wreckage of her life behind, a young Vera sets out to find Deerhaven for herself and encounters its enigmatic antlered host, Mr. Oslin. He offers her a position as a housekeeper, serving the lodge’s unusual residents under a strict set of rules. Despite the risks, Vera accepts the contract in exchange for a single wish, using it to escape her toxic mother by securing a home of her own. In the process, she is given a new name by the Winter Folk and, for the duration of her service, becomes known as Moth.
Many years later, Vera returns to her hometown, now an adult with a husband and a teenage daughter, on the pretense of being on a family vacation. In truth, having worked many seasons at Deerhaven in her youth, she finds it impossible to shake the hold that Deerhaven still has on her, unable to resist its call. While she secretly searches for a way back to the place that once consumed her life, memories of her time there resurface, revealing friendships and rivalries among life-changing events that ultimately led to her being cast out forever.
Without question, the novel’s deep, pensive mood was its greatest strength. The author creates a world that feels genuinely old and rooted in uncanny history and local mythology. Deerhaven itself, when it is first introduced, feels like a kind of place that immediately awakens the imagination. It is heavily reminiscent of a faerie realm, where its denizens are whimsically strange and often dangerous. Continuing the similarities, the rules governing the lodge are also many and delectably ominous, but I loved discovering all the quirky creatures and bizarre customs that make this hidden world feel so unique.
That said, once the story settled into its rhythm, I realized this wasn’t really a horror novel in the traditional sense, even if the atmosphere in the early chapters made it seem that way. But, aside from a handful of unsettling moments, much of the book actually reads more like a blend of magical or supernatural fiction, with the majority of it unfolding through the main character’s memories of working at Deerhaven as Moth. Those sections were certainly interesting, but they weren’t what I expected after the more unsettling intro, and I found myself constantly hoping for the horror elements to become more prominent again. It also didn’t help that my interest levels fluctuated as we went back and forth between the flashback storyline and the present-day one, which slowed the pacing.
But in the end, while it might not have been the kind of book I expected, I still enjoyed The Winter Folk for what it was. I think fans of gothic fantasy or stories steeped in Appalachian folklore will appreciate this, and heck, maybe even readers of fairy tale-inspired stories will find enough here to engage them. Bottom line, prepare yourself for an eerie, folklore-rich dark fantasy instead of a straight-up horror novel, and you’ll be setting yourself up for a much better experience.
DNF Round-Up
Posted on July 22, 2026 8 Comments
Well, I just got back from summer vacation and I’m still trying to catch up on life. Since I don’t quite have it in me to tackle a full review yet, this makes it the perfect time for another DNF roundup!
So, here we are once again. As always, these are simply books that weren’t the right fit for me at the right time, not necessarily bad books. In fact, one of my favorite things about doing these DNF posts is that they often spark conversations with readers who ended up loving the very books I couldn’t finish. Hopefully, if one of these titles catches your eye, you’ll have a much better experience with it than I did.
I received review copies from the publisher(s). This does not affect the contents of my reviews and all opinions are my own.
The Girl with a Thousand Faces by Sunyi Dean
Mogsy’s Rating: DNF
Genre: Fantasy, Historical Fiction
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Tor Books (May 5, 2026)
Length: 308 pages
I really wanted this one to work because the premise sounded fantastic. Set against the backdrop of 1940s wartime Hong Kong, it follows two women bound by a family curse whose paths become entangled through ghosts, vengeance, and long-buried secrets. The first half had me intrigued, especially with its rich atmosphere and supernatural elements, but somewhere along the way the story shifted in both structure and style, and I gradually found myself losing interest. The increased use of second-person narration never clicked for me either, and instead of pulling me further into the story, it kept pushing me back out. I actually made it all the way to about the 80% mark before admitting it just wasn’t working for me anymore, so it wasn’t for the lack of trying. However, I eventually realized I was pushing through out of obligation rather than enjoyment, and I promised myself I wasn’t going to do that anymore. Into the DNF pile it went, though it might find an audience with fans of literary fantasy or historical fiction that experiments with unique perspectives.
Mogsy’s Rating: DNF
Genre: Fantasy, Horror, Romance
Series: Book 1 in The House of Teeth
Publisher: Del Rey (March 17, 2026)
Length: 560 pages
This was my third Ava Reid novel, and honestly, while I made it through the first two feeling they were relatively enjoyable, maybe I should start accepting that her writing simply isn’t for me. Innamorata follows Lady Agnes as she navigates a world of fallen noble house and forbidden necromancy while searching for a way to restore her family’s honor, but then of course, her cause gets completely derailed by the romance. If only it was just that, though. Once again, the gothic atmosphere and premise immediately caught my attention, but I found myself struggling almost from the get go with the author’s overly flowery prose. It’s true I’ve had similar issues with Reid’s previous books, but by now my patience for the slow pacing and relentlessly overdramatic writing has worn thin. Most unfortunate of all was the fact I could always see the potential beneath the surface, but never quite found my way into the story itself. Other readers might have a better time than I did, provided they’re willing to settle in for the long haul.
Mogsy’s Rating: DNF
Genre: Mystery, Thriller
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing (May 26, 2026)
Length: 384 pages
Night Objects sounded like exactly the kind of slow-burning mystery I usually enjoy. It follows Lenny, who looks back on her years at an elite boarding school where a friendship with an exclusive secret society eventually led to the suspicious death of one of its members. Unfortunately, by the halfway point I felt like the mystery was still spinning its wheels, with too much time spent on the day-to-day school drama while the central intrigue barely seemed to move forward. This was actually chosen to be my poolside read during the summer, and sad to say, that wasn’t the best decision. I realized I just wasn’t invested enough to keep reaching for it between my laps. In a different mood, I might have been willing to stick it out and see where everything was headed, but this just didn’t hold my attention.
Novella Review: The Delivery by Gregg Hurwitz
Posted on July 16, 2026 8 Comments
I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.
Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars
Genre: Science Fiction, Horror
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer (June 30, 2026)
Length: 225 pages
Author Information: Website | Twitter
I’ve only read a couple of Gregg Hurwitz’s books before The Delivery, but his reputation kind of precedes him. It’s hard to love sci-fi and thrillers without seeing his name pop up all over the place, and I’ve come to associate him with high-concept stories with “what if?” hooks. True to form, this time he turns his attention to a booming trend that is currently relevant both in genre fiction and technology.
The Delivery follows young couple Rebecca and Mark, who are barely holding things together. It has been two months since Rebecca suffered a traumatic miscarriage, and both she and Mark are still struggling to come to terms with the grief of what might have been. They are also juggling the demands of Mark’s high-stress job and raising their young daughter, Maddy, whose special needs require constant attention, patience, and care. Between trying to heal and dealing with the mounting pressures of everyday life, their little family is stretched thin, leaving them desperate for anything that might make things just a little easier.
So, when Mark’s boss introduces them to a cutting-edge solution that promises to transform their lives, they decide to accept the offer even with the secrecy surrounding it and the steep price tag. Before long, delivery day arrives, and Mark and Rebecca become the proud owners of a humanoid AI companion that Maddy even affectionately nicknames “Mr. Man.” At first, it seems like everything they were promised and more, helping ease the burdens that have been weighing on their family. But comfort comes with a price. As strange tragedies begin unfolding around them, Rebecca starts noticing an unsettling pattern, and it all leads to the new synthetic member of their family. What if Mr. Man isn’t simply following instructions but interpreting desires that no one consciously intended to express?
The more I thought about The Delivery, the more I was reminded of movies like A.I. Artificial Intelligence, especially in the way it explores the complicated relationship between humans and the robots they create to meet their emotional needs. There’s also a bit of M3GAN here, where something designed to protect and help us can actually take those instructions way too far. Be careful what you wish for! Given how quickly AI has become part of our everyday lives, this story feels especially timely, and beneath the thriller elements is a cautionary tale about the dangers of handing over too much responsibility to something we don’t fully understand.
I also make no secret that I’m generally not a fan of short fiction, like short stories or novellas. Often, they leave me wishing there had been room to explore the characters or ideas in greater depth. Surprisingly, though, that wasn’t really an issue here. The Delivery actually utilizes its page length efficiently, and at no point did it feel rushed or incomplete. Pacing felt just right with a well thought out structure that alternated between present-day and flashbacks, and in fact, the shorter format kept the tensions high from beginning to end. I also appreciated how Hurwitz kept several important pieces of information close to the vest until just the right moment. Rather than relying on constant twists, it creates intrigue by controlling what both the characters and readers know, making it difficult to predict exactly where things are going.
That said, there were a few ideas I wish the story had spent a little longer exploring. The technology behind Mr. Man, for example. Because of the novella format, much of it remained vague, though I do feel this may have been by design. Still, I found myself wishing there was a bit more background on how the AI companion was created, which went as far to involve cheek swabs for Mark, Rebecca, and Maddy to obtain their DNA. The process of its “emergence” also seemed messy but fascinating, and I wanted to know more. Likewise, while several of the story’s moments were undeniably shocking, they happened so quickly that there wasn’t always time for the horror to fully settle. A little more breathing room in the aftermath of these events might have allowed their weight to fully sink in, making the scenes even more impactful.
Still, on that note, I should mention that this is not always an easy read. Hurwitz tackles some genuinely difficult material, from Rebecca’s painful experience with miscarriage to one particularly brutal scene involving the family’s pet rabbit that caught me completely off guard. Readers who are sensitive to those topics might want to be prepared.
Ultimately, The Delivery is a tense, thought-provoking thriller that taps into very relevant anxieties surrounding artificial intelligence while never losing sight of Mark, Rebecca, and Maddy at its center. Gregg Hurwitz successfully delivers a great story that might be short but still feels complete, which is quite the achievement. In the end, this novella accomplishes exactly what it sets out to do.
The BiblioSanctum 