Book Review: The Arcane Arts by S.D. Coverly

 received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

The Arcane Arts by S.D. Coverly

Mogsy’s Rating: 2 of 5 stars

Genre: Fantasy, Romance

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Del Rey (May 19, 2026)

Length: 382 pages

Author Information: Website

The Arcane Arts was a rather atypical read for me. On paper, a dark academia romantasy with strong thriller elements and shades of erotica is very much outside my usual comfort zone. However, S.D. Coverly is actually the shared pen name of two authors: Dan Frey and Dana Schwartz. While I’m not familiar with Dana Schwartz, Dan Frey is someone whose work I’ve absolutely loved, including The Future Is Yours and Dreambound. In fact, I’d spent the last couple years wondering what he’s been working on and when I can read more from him, and as it turns out, this was the answer. So, my curiosity getting the better of me, I decided to take the plunge. And the results were…mixed.

The story follows Ellsbeth, who has spent her entire life preparing for a future in the arcane arts. Gifted and academically driven, she has every reason to believe she’ll earn a place among the most prestigious magical institutions and researchers in the field. But then, during the most important test of her life, everything falls apart. While on the scrying portion of the exam that would determine her future prospects, she experiences a horrifying vision of her younger sister Birdie dying. Panicked and desperate, Ellsbeth abandons the examinations and rushes to help, only to discover she is too late.

The tragedy cost her more than her sister. Because the exam can only be taken once, her decision meant the collapse of everything she has worked for. Worse, according to the authorities, Birdie died by suicide in bed, which wasn’t what Ellsbeth saw. Convinced the police are hiding the truth, she becomes determined to use magic to investigate for herself. To that end, she travels to Newlyn University and sets her sights on Professor Thaddeus Rawlins, one of the field’s most respected scholars, hoping to convince him to take her on as a student. However, because her interest is in writ magic, a forbidden discipline capable of compelling and controlling others, Rawlins is hesitant, especially since he is already haunted by the consequences of a former student’s involvement with it. Yet Ellsbeth’s intelligence and ambitions intrigue him, so he agrees, believing he can help keep her research within acceptable and legal boundaries. Of course, with both of them harboring dark secrets, as their professional relationship deepens, so too does a mutual attraction that quickly evolves into something far more dangerous.

As I mentioned earlier, this isn’t normally my genre. And I have to say, after a while with this book, it reminded me exactly why. If you’re a reader who loves forbidden romance, dark academia, morally questionable attraction, and all the tensions that come with a student-professor relationship complete with a bit of kink, then I think you’ll have a much better time than I did. The novel commits fully to that dynamic and delivers exactly the sort of sexy romantasy many readers are looking for. Nevertheless, my issue was that it often felt as though every aspect of the story existed solely to facilitate that relationship, even when doing do required the plot and the characters’ decision-making to bend in ways I found extremely unbelievable.

For example, Rawlins initially raises all the objections you’d expect in his refusal to take Ellsbeth on as a student. Making an exception for her would be unfair to others and a professionally risky move that would be academically improper, creating all sorts of complications for himself and the college. But one slight push from Ellsbeth later, he caves almost immediately in a 180 that practically gave me whiplash. More importantly, he’s a professor and should understand the ethical problems involved. Rawlins has direct supervisory authority over Ellsbeth, and even if Newlyn itself doesn’t explicitly prohibit those kinds of student-professor relationships (which might be the least believable part of this whole thing), the obvious conflict of interest should have made him transfer her to another advisor if he possessed even a sliver of morals. Instead, this so-called brilliant genius just barrels ahead. Which is fine, if the taboo is the point, but it makes it hard to take the story seriously.

A similar issue extends to the writ magic storyline. Both Ellsbeth and Rawlin understand it’s highly illegal and dangerous. They repeatedly acknowledge the risks and how a former student is in prison and his life is ruined because of it. Yet they both continue pursuing it without any practical explanation for how they expect this arrangement to work long term. What are they going to do when it comes time for Ellsbeth to present her thesis? Are they simply going to ignore the inconvenient questions the university will ask? The whole thing feels less like a plan and more like two delusional people hoping future consequences somehow won’t materialize.

But in the end, what frustrated me the most was how the central mystery got pushed aside. Birdie’s death is the reason Ellsbeth embarks on this journey in the first place, the emotional and narrative foundation of the whole story. Yet there were long stretches where I genuinely forgot that was supposed to be the main driving force because the plot kept shifting its focus so heavily toward the romance, the flirting, and the relationship drama. I was honestly close to bailing around the halfway point, but thankfully the story eventually remembers its original premise and begins steering back to the mystery. Once that happened, things improved drastically.

On another positive note, the writing itself is quite strong. I could definitely see traces of Dan Frey’s influence, particularly in the way the story incorporates emails and written correspondence into the narrative, which is reminiscent of his experience with epistolary storytelling. It’s just unfortunate that even those felt a little awkward at times because the emails rarely sounded like messages actual people would send. While the prose was fantastically polished, the voices often felt overly literary and self-conscious, especially compared to how the characters would speak during face-to-face conversations.

And yet, despite all these complaints, I kept reading. That’s probably worth acknowledging, I suppose. Yes, the book frustrated me often, but it also managed to maintain just enough intrigue to keep me from putting the book aside. Whether that’s because there was actually something compelling beneath all the issues I had or because I had reached a point where I was too invested to quit, I’m honestly not sure. Probably a bit of both.

Ultimately, The Arcane Arts wasn’t a complete disaster by any means, but it also wasn’t a book that worked particularly well for me. Like I said though, I’m probably not the right audience. While there were elements I enjoyed, they were frequently overshadowed by a romantic plotline that frequently strained credibility. Even so, I’m glad I gave it a chance. Dan Frey remains an author whose books I will still want to pick up, and even though this collaboration turned out to be very different, I always appreciate the opportunity to try something new.