Book Review: The Cut by C.J. Dotson
Posted on April 11, 2025 10 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
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: St. Martin’s Press (April 8, 2025)
Length: 304 pages
Author Information: Website | Twitter
The Cut by C.J. Dotson was a book where the cover caught my attention before I even knew what the story was about. I mean, look at it! There’s just something about the image of a slimy tentacle curling out of a shower drain that instantly gives off the heebie-jeebies, and as a horror fan, I was immediately curious. Was this cosmic horror? Or some kind of creature feature? Either way, I was all for it.
At its core, The Cut is a woman trying to rebuild her life after escaping an abusive relationship. After the death of her first husband, Sadie Miles thought she’d found a second chance at love with her new fiancé Sam. But as his words became increasingly controlling and his temper harder to predict, she came to realize she and her toddler would no longer be safe—especially after discovering she was pregnant. Packing up her daughter Izzy and some meager belongings, Sadie flees to a quaint little inn called the L’Arpin Hotel, nestled on the shores of Lake Erie. There, she lands a job as a housekeeper with a temporary live-in arrangement, where she hopes to hide from Sam until she makes enough to afford her own apartment.
From the very first day, however, it’s clear something is off about the hotel and the people who work there. In the dead of night, Sadie hears the unmistakable sound of splashing in the hotel pool, only to find it empty when she arrives to investigate. Yet the management’s response is dismissive, with hints that they might even be hiding something. And when Sadie presses the issue, she begins to uncover strange occurrences that only deepen her fears. Security footage goes missing. The owner of the property next door accuses the hotel of poisoning the land. A maid disappears, which only gets covered up. Then Sadie begins to see things—squirmy things wriggling out from faucets, inside takeout boxes, and seemingly out of the very walls of the hotel itself. Sadie may have escaped Sam for now, bringing her young daughter and unborn child to what she hoped was safety, but the events unfolding at L’Arpin suggest that danger has followed them, just in a different form.
Once the story got going, I found The Cut to be a suspense and unsettling slow burn read, and several main themes began emerging. Sadie is a pregnant and single mom who has no support from her own family, and as a result has to face the challenges of fleeing abuse on her own. Dotson leans hard into the protagonist’s harrowing emotions in order to create suspense but also mixes in the gothic atmosphere of a decaying hotel that’s long past its heyday. And yes, there is a bit of Lovecraftian influence as well, bringing that particular brand of weird fiction and horror element to northwestern Ohio.
As such, this book is definitely more of a “vibe” story, aiming for creeping dread rather than in-your-face terror or all-out gore. One of the strongest aspects of the book is now the supernatural tensions mirror the emotional tensions, playing them up in tandem. The threat of Sadie’s past is never far behind, but it’s also the everyday anxieties—whether she can be the mother her children need or hold down the job that’s keeping a roof over their heads—that weigh the heaviest on her mind. Still, that’s not to say there weren’t plenty of more traditional horror elements in the book, such as disturbing imagery. It’s just not over-the-top, which, as a fan of subtler horror, I appreciated a lot.
That said, The Cut didn’t quite do it for me in every area, especially when it came to the pacing and the ending. The first half dragged in places, with the “Sadie discovers something weird, staff then proceeds to gaslight Sadie and pretend it’s nothing” pattern becoming repetitive. Her character also frustrated me at times, as more than once her decision-making made me question her intelligence. And this might just be me, but I didn’t always care for the way Sadie’s relationship with Izzy was portrayed. At times, the little girl’s behavior bordered on grating, written in a way that made her come off more like a tantum machine than a real child. Sadie’s response to that was just as hokey, as is the obnoxious “stinker” nickname she has for Izzy, making it hard to fully buy into their dynamic. Finally, the ending felt rushed, with the resolution feeling overly tidy considering how much had been built up, especially with the supernatural elements.
Still, despite a few stumbles, there’s a lot to admire here, especially for what I believe is C.J. Dotson’s debut novel. No, it isn’t perfect, but nevertheless it’s an entertaining entry into the horror genre with a strong emotional core that I think many readers will probably be able to relate to. Fans of slow burn horror with a supernatural twist will find a lot to like here, and I’ll be keeping my eye out for what the author writes next.
Book Review: The Notorious Virtues by Alwyn Hamilton
Posted on April 8, 2025 13 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 Notorious Virtues by Alwyn Hamilton
Mogsy’s Rating: 4.5 of 5 stars
Genre: Fantasy
Series: Book 1 of The Notorious Virtues
Publisher: Viking Books for Young Readers (April 1, 2025)
Length: 320 pages
Author Information: Website | Twitter
After years of hanging out on my Goodreads not-yet-released shelf, The Notorious Virtues, I have to say, was well worth the wait. Even though it’s been quite a while since I read Rebel of the Sands, Alwyn Hamilton clearly still has what it takes to deliver the first book of a riveting, character-driven saga that thrills with rich world-building and a high stakes plot. The story had me hooked from page one, and I want more!
Told through the eyes of four main characters, the author transports us to the glittering city of Walstad where magic talks and where you come from means everything. No one understands this more than Honora “Nora” Holtzfall, who is born into one of the richest families, comfortably in line to inherit all her grandmother’s power and riches—that is, until her mother’s brutal murder throws the line of succession into jeopardy. Now Nora finds herself thrust back into a series of vicious Veritaz trials in which she must compete with her cousins for the right to become the Holtzfall heir. But to everyone’s surprise, an extra challenger has been added to the roster in the form of Ottoline “Lotte” Holtzfall, allegedly a long-lost member of the family who has been raised secretly at a convent. Confident in her skills and intelligence, Nora isn’t threatened at all by this newcomer, but unbeknownst to her, Lotte actually possesses one of the rarest, most powerful magical abilities found in the Holtzfall family bloodline.
Meanwhile, Nora has not forgotten what had set everything in motion in the first place and is determined to find her mother’s killer. The press has already all but named the Grimms as culprits, since the resistance group is known to target the aristocracy in their fight to achieve more equality between Walstad’s disparate classes. However, Nora is not convinced, and neither is August, a skeptical journalist who believes the murder was more than just a mugging gone wrong. Forming a tenuous alliance, the two of them set out to find the truth. And finally, we have Theo, our fourth POV character and a member of the Rydder Knights—an ancient order magically bound to serve the Holtzfall family ever since the first knight swore a sacred oath centuries ago. But over time, that relationship has begun to erode, and what was meant to ensure protection has been twisted into something more troubling, like forced obedience. Through Theo’s eyes, we see the cracks of that legacy in his struggle to decide whether to do his duty or to stand by his brother, the bodyguard of Nora’s mother, who has been missing since the night of her murder.
Where do I even start? There’s so much going for The Notorious Virtues, but I think I’ll have to begin with the characters because without them, this book wouldn’t have been anywhere near as impressive. Nora is one of our four main POVs, but as much as I enjoyed the others, I feel it’s only right to spotlight her in my review. Not only is she a favorite, she alone ties the whole story together. While she may cultivate her spoiled and empty-headed rich brat persona, she is in fact very intelligent and introspective, leading her enemies—and readers—to underestimate her. And even though she may come across as arrogant and proud of her own smarts and talents, it’s hard to hold that against her when that pride is well deserved. At the end of the day, it’s refreshing to read about a confident young woman who is comfortable in her own skin, and later, she earns even more points by using that charisma to try to make Walstad a better place for all.
Then, there’s the plot. Finally, a YA novel that isn’t on rails and utterly predictable right out of the gate. That isn’t to say The Notorious Virtues uses completely new ideas, but wherever it borrows ideas from well-tread territory, it at least tries to do something different and unique with them. It helped that there were multiple POVs, and that each character represented a very different way of life in Walstad. As a result, each of them also had very different motivations, keeping the story interesting. Then there was the political backdrop and the social divisions, with the Hottzfall family at the center looming over all the other districts. Thematically, this led to a thoughtful exploration of wealth, privilege, and status—how these forces shape societal power structures, especially in a world where magic tends to be inherited and often weaponized to maintain control. Even as the Veritaz trials took center stage, I found myself equally captivated by the larger conflicts brewing beneath the surface, such as the rise of the Grimms and their radical resistance against the Holtzfall dynasty.
At the end of the day, I had a great time reading The Notorious Virtues. My only gripe might be that a couple of the main POVs, especially Theo’s, might need a little more attention to bring them up to a similar level of characterization as Nora or Lotte. But overall, I loved the story, I loved the setting, and I particularly enjoyed the writing. All of it was surprisingly in-depth and well-crafted for a YA novel, but it was also clear Alwyn Hamilton put a lot of care into making it a reality. I’m glad that all her time and work paid off. Looking forward to more in the series.
Audiobook Review: The Fourth Consort by Edward Ashton
Posted on April 4, 2025 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.
The Fourth Consort by Edward Ashton
Mogsy’s Rating (Overall): 3.5 of 5 stars
Genre: Science Fiction
Series: Stand Alone/Book 1
Publisher: Macmillan Audio (February 25, 2025)
Length: 8 hrs and 25 mins
Narrator: Barrie Kreinik
I became a fan of Edward Ashton after his action sci-fi adventure Mickey7 impressed me with its sense of humor, even when dealing with a subject like existential dread. Naturally, when I heard about The Fourth Consort, I was curious to see what it’s all about.
The story follows Dalton Greaves, who has been living adrift ever since the death of his father. All this changes one night in a bar, when, after his girlfriend dumps him, he is approached by Neera, a representative of the Unity who offers him a job. It’s an opportunity for Dalton to forget his aimless life on Earth and become a part of something bigger, joining an organization with a mission for peacekeeping and cooperation to unite all sentient beings in the galaxy. Since there’s nothing left tying him to his old life and plenty to gain from the new gig, Dalton agrees.
However, the truth is much less glamorous. The Unity turns out to be not so noble after all, once Dalton gets a glimpse behind the curtains and sees how things really are. The galaxy’s true benefactors are in fact the Assembly, bitter rivals of the Unity who view Dalton and Neera with suspicion. After a disastrous encounter in orbit leaves the two humans stranded on a newly discovered world, Dalton suddenly finds himself separated from Neera’s protection and thrust into the clutches of the planet’s native inhabitants, whose ruling queen claims him as her consort—her fourth one, as it turns out. Meanwhile, stuck at court with him is also an alien named Breaker, a stickman who fights on behalf of the Assembly. Caught reluctantly in the politics of his role where enemies can strike from any direction, Dalton must figure out how to navigate this strange new world and survive Neera’s scheming even as she tries to rescue him.
At its core, The Fourth Consort is a quirky sci-fi novel that doesn’t take itself too seriously—definitely similar in tone to the Mickey7 series, which is good news if that’s what you were looking for. Ashton’s writing style is as sharp and efficient as ever, keeping the story moving along at a fast clip. The humor is also on point with plenty of witty banter and absurd moments, especially when alien cultures collide, often leading to Dalton trading barbs with his spicy translator AI.
But for its quick pacing and super lean prose which doesn’t bog itself down with unnecessary exposition, the story does sometimes feel a little too breezy for its own good. The world-building, for instance, is intriguing but on the lighter side, leaving many questions and difficulties envisioning the creatures and worlds being described. I never got a strong sense of the alien cultures and what makes them genuinely unique, and similarly, the political intrigue felt tacked on rather than fully integrated. Likewise, character development is another area that felt a little sparse, and although Dalton himself is a solid protagonist, he lacked agency and seemed carried along by events, robbing his personality of opportunities to shine.
This made the overall story arc feel kind of shallow and undercooked. While the plot featured conflicts aplenty, there was hardly any tension at all as I was never made to believe our protagonist was ever really in trouble. If anything, Breaker, the Assembly shock trooper, felt more developed even though we mainly got to know him through conversations filtered across broken translations. Sure, the occasional flashback to Dalton’s past helped, but many of them felt like flavor text and completely unnecessary, and I’m not sure that these little snippets featuring his pre-Unity days were quite worth the distraction.
That said, hopefully I didn’t come off as too negative, as The Fourth Consort actually turned out to be a very enjoyable and fun read, especially the audio book version whose narrator Barrie Kreinik gave a lively performance. The pacing was tight, the humor sharp, and I loved the clever dialogue. However, while the book is entertaining in the moment, I don’t think it will leave a lasting impression. If the author decides to continue Dalton’s tale, I’d be interested to see where he ends up taking things, but as it stands, this one gets a solid 3.5 stars.
Book Review: A Drop of Corruption by Robert Jackson Bennett
Posted on April 1, 2025 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.
A Drop of Corruption by Robert Jackson Bennett
Mogsy’s Rating: 5 of 5 stars
Genre: Fantasy, Mystery
Series: Book 2 of Shadow of the Leviathan
Publisher: Del Rey (April 1, 2025)
Length: 480 pages
Author Information: Website
Last year, Robert Jackson Bennett’s The Tainted Cup was one of my favorite reads, and it appears I wasn’t alone in that sentiment based on all the love that’s been showered on the book from across the board. Naturally, its sequel Drop of Corruption became one of my most anticipated releases in 2025, and believe me, I had high expectations. Still, somehow they were exceeded in every way.
This time, Ana Dolabra and her assistant Dinios Kol find themselves dispatched to Yarrowdale, a distant canton situated on the edge of the Khanum Empire, where much of the population takes pride in its independence. Imperial authority might not hold much sway here, but when one of their treasury officers disappears suddenly, the investigators want to know how and why. But what initially appears to be a missing person case quickly turns into a murder investigation as body parts are discovered, and everywhere Ana and Din turn, mysterious forces seem bent on standing in their path.
Eventually, our protagonists determine that their missing official is not just a victim but a casualty in a far greater conspiracy. With tensions already running high in Yarrowdale over the canton’s impending integration into the Khanum, the implications of their work become even more dire. Din and Ana follow clues to the Shroud, where fallen leviathans—gargantuan monsters that live beyond the massive seawalls—are processed to harvest the rare magic within them that helps power the empire. The subsequent collapse would be devastating and wide-ranging should this major industry falter, and time is running out to get to the bottom of the mystery.
What can I say, other than I loved everything about this book! While the quality of sequels can be touch and go, Bennett took what worked in The Tainted Cup and either carried on those trends or made them even better. Nothing makes me happier than a fantasy mystery I can completely lose myself in, and A Drop of Corruption flawlessly balances its detective elements with its ever-expanding world-building to deliver a riveting plot that gripped me from the first page and never let up. Take the best parts of the epic fantasy and police procedural genres, blend them together, and this is what you get.
But as I wrote in my review for the first book, the stars of the show are Din and Ana, and that remains true. I was happy to see that the Holmes/Watson dynamic is as strong as ever, which really drives the series with their contrasting personalities. The two of them have grown closer since the beginning of their partnership, but even as some of Din’s idealism has given way to a pragmatism that makes him more competent, he still frequently suffers the brunt of Ana’s sharp wit, impatience, and complete disregard for social niceties. But if Din is the heart, Ana is the razor-sharp mind—a force to be reckoned with, and utterly fascinating to watch. And yet, for all her intellect, she is not infallible, which becomes dangerously clear as this tough case exposes the cracks in her armor.
Of course, what further elevates this novel beyond a clever mystery fantasy story is its world-building. Beyond the storytelling, A Drop of Corruption excels in expanding what we know of the Khanum Empire, in areas like politics, culture, and history. The magic system is not just window dressing; it’s infused into the very bones of these books, and into the very mechanics of our characters’ investigation. The series’ name is Shadow of the Leviathan, and it appears with each installment, we are witnessing just how integral these creatures are to everything we know about this world.
By the time we got to the resolution, I was completely sold. Robert Jackson Bennett has proven yet again what a talented storyteller he is, by gifting fantasy mystery fans with a wildly imaginative series that is as intricate as anything found in a classic whodunit. I have to say, The Tainted Cup set a high bar, but A Drop of Corruption sails over it with ease. This trilogy is shaping up to be an all-time favorite, and you can bet I’ll be first in line when the final volume drops.
More on The BiblioSanctum:
Review of The Tainted Cup (Book 1)
Book Review: The Scorpion and the Night Blossom by Amélie Wen Zhao
Posted on March 30, 2025 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 Scorpion and the Night Blossom by Amélie Wen Zhao
Mogsy’s Rating: 3 of 5 stars
Genre: Young Adult, Fantasy
Series: Book 1 of The Three Realms Duology
Publisher: Delacorte Press (March 4, 2025)
Length: 400 pages
Author Information: Website
In The Scorpion and the Night Blossom by Amélie Wen Zhao, our protagonist Àn’yīng is a young warrior trained in a highly specialized kind of martial art which blends magic and sigils. In her world, survival demands strength, as the land is plagued by mó, a kind of soul-devouring demon that preys on mortals. It is a terrible reality that Àn’yīng knows all too well. Not long ago, her own family was torn apart when it was attacked by a powerful mó, which killed her father and left her month with an even crueler fate. Drained of her life force, the once vibrant woman is now an empty shell of her former self, slowly wasting away. Without intervention, Àn’yīng knows her mother will surely die.
However, hope comes in the form of the deadly Immortality Trials, a competition held by the immortals in their warded realm. The winner who manages to conquer the series of grueling tasks will receive a pill of eternal life, which Àn’yīng believes can save her mother. Determined to claim the prize, she embarks on the journey to enter the trials, knowing that countless other practitioners will be fighting against her for the same reward. One of them is Yu’chén, a handsome rival whose abilities clearly outshine Àn’yīng’s, but for some mysterious reason still agrees to form an alliance. As the competition heats up, with the trials becoming increasingly more demanding, our protagonist must decide whether she can trust her new teammate even as she finds herself torn between her hatred of demons and the undeniable pull she feels toward Yù’chén.
I really wish I could have rated The Scorpion and the Night Blossom more, and maybe if this hadn’t been the umpteenth fantasy romance story I’ve read about a heroine who must enter a life-or-death competition to retrieve some magical lifechanging trinket, I might have. But the current state of YA fiction can be boiled down to authors repurposing the same paint-by-numbers formula again and again, just with some new extra ingredient thrown in each time. In this case, we have a war-torn world, a series of dangerous trials, and a brooding love interest. The “something new” here is the Chinese-inspired mythology and the atmospheric descriptions of the immortal realm and the mó.
Hence I disagree with many of the other reviews here that the earlier parts of the novel were the strongest, while the rest of it was subpar. For me it was the opposite—the beginning was laughably predictable, clichéd, and boring. Àn’yīng’s tale was the same one I’ve read countless times before, only dressed up in a different package. I almost threw in the towel early, especially once she encountered Yù’chén, who was an interesting character, but their dynamic likewise follows a familiar pattern that brings nothing new to the table, right down to him giving our protagonist an annoyingly patronizing nickname.
And while I did appreciate the world-building, the story leans hard into Asian mythology tropes to paint readers a very superficial or kitschy version of the culture. I guess this truly is for the C-Drama girlies, as the dedication suggests–which, I confess, I am not. But if you are, then I can see The Scorpion and the Night Blossom being greatly appealing with its popcorn-y soap opera vibes. Plus, the final act does manage to shake things up. At this point, the plot finally steps away from its formulaic structure, delivering some unexpected twists and raising the stakes in a meaningful way. Although this renewed energy might have come too late in the book, I the last quarter left me cheering at how things were finally getting more unpredictable and interesting.
Overall, The Scorpion and the Night Blossom might have taken its sweet time freeing itself from the genre’s formulaic shackles, but eventually the predictable elements gave way to more imaginative storytelling. It’s a solid, if not groundbreaking, entry into YA fantasy. And though I wasn’t completely won over, the ending has me curious enough to see where the sequel takes the story, especially as this is the first half of a duology.
Book Review: Once Was Willem by M.R. Carey
Posted on March 26, 2025 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.
Mogsy’s Rating: 3 of 5 stars
Genre: Horror, Historical Fiction
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Orbit | Hachette Audio (March 4, 2025)
Length: 320 pages | 10 hrs and 40 mins
Author Information: Website | Twitter
I think I may be in the minority on this one, but while I generally love the dark, thought-provoking works of M.R. Carey, I struggled to get into Once Was Willem. Granted, the novel was another testament to the author’s storytelling abilities, tackling a medieval horror fantasy told in a unique narrative voice. However, the style and structure of the book also made it difficult to parse at times, and this is something you have to get used to, or—if you’re like me—you just can’t.
Set in the mid-12th century, the story begins in a poor peasant village where the untimely death of a young boy named Willem leads his parents on a misguided attempt to bring him back. They turn to a powerful sorcerer named Cain Caradoc, who promises that he can help resurrect their son. However, what he failed to mention is that he will also be taking a piece of Willem’s soul as his price, and that the boy will come back as a grotesque shell of who he once was, becoming a monstrosity lingering between life and undeath. Horrified by the creature that once was their beloved son, his mother and father are joined by the rest of the villagers in driving Willem out.
Exiled, Willem makes his home in the surrounding woods, but he finds he is not alone. Others like him have taken refuge in the wilderness, among them individuals deemed oddities who have also been cast out—shapeshifters, elemental creatures, monsters, and spirits. Together, they form a band of seven to keep each other safe, eventually bringing the fight to Caradoc, whose nefarious plans have led him to set his sights on more than the souls of dead children. As the sorcerer’s magic threatens the villages and the residents turn to those they’ve cast out for assistance, Willem and his companions must confront the enemy in a final battle that not only determines the fates of the villagers but of the afterlife itself.
To be honest, although I appreciated the folklore and found family themes of Once of Willem, the book starts off slowly, and its ponderous pacing is further exacerbated by the archaic writing style. Indeed, the novel’s distinct narrative style is a double-edged sword, at once its greatest strength and greatest weakness. The story reads like a memoir told by Willem himself, but much like his physical body, his mind is also neither here nor there. He jumps around, meanders, inserting fragments of memory or asides at seemingly random places. Like the old-timey, period-appropriate prose, Willem’s voice makes this story feel authentic and immersive, but it is also very demanding on readers.
That said, Willem’s character arc is deeply moving, driven by his relatable need for acceptance and purpose. Afterall, everyone understands what it means to belong and to be accepted. It is universal, and it is human. Brought back to life only to be discarded by his own people, Willem also struggles with the meaning of his existence. Later, he finds solace in his group of companions that he meets in the wilderness. Bound not by blood but by a shared understanding, their camaraderie is truly the heart and soul of the story, bringing warmth and depth to an otherwise bleak tale. These characters shine whenever they are on the page, and unfortunately, their togetherness feels underused, making me wish we saw more of those connections.
In various reviews, I’ve seen Once Was Willem described as medieval Frankenstein meets The Magnificent Seven. Given its elements, I have to say these are good comparisons, and you should definitely check it out if you are interested in a unique blend of horror, folklore, and adventure. However, it can also be a frustrating read, especially if you prefer your stories to be more structured and organized. The dense prose can also present a challenge, and in fact, I found it more enjoyable after a while to switch to the audiobook, which made it easier to get into the story. Ultimately, I was glad I finished this, but it doesn’t quite reach the heights of M.R. Carey’s more readable books.
Audiobook Review: The Haunting of Room 904 by Erika T. Wurth
Posted on March 24, 2025 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 Haunting of Room 904 by Erika T. Wurth
Mogsy’s Rating (Overall): 1.5 of 5 stars
Genre: Horror, Mystery
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Macmillan Audio (March 18, 2025)
Length: 9 hrs and 48 mins
Author Information: Website
At first, I was very excited to pick up The Haunting of Room 904. I mean, come on! Even the title sounded awesome. What could possibly go wrong with the promise of a haunted hotel story? Well, apparently, quite a whole lot. And when I looked up the author’s information, I was actually surprised to find out that this was not Erika T. Wurth’s first novel, because both the writing and plotting felt amateurish in a disjointed, sloppy way, which unfortunately kept the novel from ever fully realizing its ambitious premise.
The story follows Olivia Becente, a struggling academic who has turned to capitalizing on her clairvoyant gifts to make ends meet. Now a paranormal investigator, she works with clients who hire her to commune with the dead and occasionally takes on cases that involve neutralizing the dangerous effects of haunted or possessed items. But the truth is, Olivia has a pretty haunted history herself. Ever since the unexpected suicide of her sister Naiche, Olivia can’t stop thinking about her or any of unexplainable circumstances around how she died.
This is why, years later, when she is contacted by the Brown Palace hotel about a new case, Olivia immediately agrees to investigate. Not only is it one of the most recognizable landmarks in Denver, but the hotel is also the one in which Naiche killed herself in Room 904. It comes to light that every five years, a woman mysteriously dies in that room, no matter what the hotel does to prevent it from happening, even sealing it off altogether. As Olivia and her friends try to make sense of these connections, she receives a disturbing call from her mother, sounding distressed and confused, revealing that she has somehow checked into Room 904—despite having no recollection of how she got there. Now racing against the clock, Olivia’s investigation brings her to confront everything from a secret cult to the mysteries of an ancient power.
It honestly annoys me whenever a book with an amazing premise manages to completely unravel under the weight of its own ambition. It’s a shame because The Haunting of Room 904 could have been great, but what we get instead is an overstuffed narrative with simply too much happening at once. Rather than having things unfold naturally, the novel stumbles from one subplot to another like an easily distracted toddler. Things start off smoothly with Olivia’s investigation into a haunting but they quickly devolve from there, shifting suddenly to her family problems, then to her dealing with a stalker ex, and out of the blue a romantic development gets thrown in as well. There’s enough silly drama here to fill ten books, but instead everything is crammed together in a way that leaves everything feeling half-baked.
On top of that, the protagonist Olivia is the worst kind of idiot, someone who is constantly positioning herself as the smartest person in the room, yet her decisions contradict that perception at every turn. In one egregious example, she moralizes about guns only to justify getting a concealed carry permit because she believes her situation is unique, yet fails to arm herself when it critically mattered, resulting in the gun being turned on her by the very person she wanted to protect herself from—all because she set a glaringly obvious passcode on her safe. She’s also unbearably judgmental of others yet blind to her own flaws, making her difficult to root for. Partly, I think this in part is due to the book seeming more concerned with checking identity boxes and inserting social commentary than telling a compelling story. For example, every character’s race, gender, background, disability, etc. is noted, even when it’s completely irrelevant to the plot. The dialogue suffers greatly because of this too, because no one really talks the way these characters do. In some of their interactions, rather than an organic conversation, they come across more like stilted, overly self-aware message pushing instead.
Then there’s the matter of character development—or lack thereof. Olivia’s friends are little more than stock archetypes, defined by their identity labels above and further slotted into cookie cutter type caricatures: Genius Loudmouth Friend A, Sensitive Supportive Friend B, etc. And obviously, we mustn’t forget the dastardly ex-boyfriend who is cartoonishly villainous. But of course, Olivia being Olivia, she immediately gets the googly eyes for the next man who gives her attention, never mind that he’s a suspiciously charismatic leader of a fucking cult! Remember though, Olivia isn’t too bright, and the fact the guy is hot and fits the dark, broody goth aesthetic means that he gets a pass.
As if the disjointed plot and shallow characters weren’t bad enough, the writing itself is a hot mess. Transitions between events are choppy, making it a pain to follow the story. The pacing is also all over the place. The horror elements, which should have been at the forefront, feel tacked on and underdeveloped. What could have been an intense, mysterious, and atmospheric ghost story instead reads like a bland, dime-store thriller with some paranormal elements hastily sprinkled in. Any sense of suspense or dread is completely lost.
Ultimately, The Haunting of Room 904 is a book that had all the ingredients (one might even argue too many ingredients) for a creepy and engaging horror novel with some thriller elements mixed in. However, the failure to pull all these pieces together in a cohesive and coherent manner resulted in a disappointing read where the core mystery lacked direction and focus in its execution. Sadly, the book started out strong, but by the end, it simply fell apart under the weight of all its missteps.
Book Review: White Line Fever by K.C. Jones
Posted on March 20, 2025 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.
White Line Fever by K.C. Jones
Mogsy’s Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars
Genre: Horror
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Nightfire (March 18, 2025)
Length: 368 pages
Author Information: Website
When it comes to horror stories, a girls’ weekend road trip meets a haunted highway sounds like it would be a match made in heaven. This is essentially the premise of K.C. Jones’ White Line Fever, which made me very excited to read it. But while the book is brimming with terrifying potential and starts off on the right track, it struggles to maintain that momentum, and by the end, I found myself more frustrated than thrilled.
The book follows Livia and her lifelong friends Ash, Mo, and Becka, who have affectionately called themselves “The Scoundrels” ever since their childhood days of adventure and mischief. As the story begins, Livia is passing another normal day doing laundry when she makes a devastating discovery while emptying her husband’s pants pockets—an unfamiliar condom wrapper, torn open. The shocking revelation of his infidelity immediately plunges Livia into a dark place. After growing up in an abusive home and eventually escaping her cruel and violent father, she’d thought she finally found happiness. Alas, it was not to be. Needing to get away, Livia turns to her old trio of friends, who suggest taking a road trip into the Oregon wilderness where they can all benefit from some quiet time away from life’s ugly realities.
However, their trip takes a dark turn when an unsettling encounter with an aggressive driver in a pickup truck forces them to take a shortcut through the backroads, onto County Road 951—known to locals as The Devil’s Driveway. Short as it may be, countless tragedies have occurred on this road, spawning dozens of urban legends about it and earning it its sinister nickname. Initially unfazed, the group is just glad to be back on schedule, but after a while, strange things start happening that make them question their sanity. All of them experience losing time and begin having nightmarish visions, and after driving for what seems like hours, they never seem to make progress off this lonely stretch of blacktop that’s only supposedly 15 miles long. Desperation and panic set in as they eventually realize they are trapped with no way to escape.
As this surreal ride unfolds, the novel shifts between past and present, allowing readers a glimpse into the characters’ traumatic pasts that have shaped each of them. Especially prominent are flashbacks to Livia’s childhood, which was spent in the small, insular town of Newberry. There, she and her mother lived in constant fear under the brutal authority of her father, who ran an auto shop and fixed up junk cars. For relief, Livia often sought the company of her friends, including sisters Ash and Mo, and hung out secretly in the junkyard. At some point, though, all of them have come up against the threat of Livia’s father, whose shadow looms over them even after all these years.
At first, this back and forth proved generally effective at creating an unsettling atmosphere and establishes reasons for Livia’s breakdown following the implosion of her marriage. The flashbacks were also welcome breaks in the present timeline in which the intro mainly featured the women driving and talking. However, this pattern quickly became repetitive, resulting in a long, drawn-out buildup period that ruined the eventual payoff. For one, the plot repeatedly teases the horror elements, then pulls back just as they start getting interesting. For another, the characters gradually reveal themselves to be frustratingly dense, doing more bickering than solving problems even as their situation went downhill. Simply put, after a while I just got tired of being jerked around and spending time with these moronic ladies.
Don’t get me wrong. Annoying characters and wonky pacing aside, the book is still pretty solid. But I do think the best parts came too late, especially towards the end when the group meets up with another character whose part in the story was actually introduced in the prologue. Still, while this connection brought the cohesion which had been lacking back to the book, it wasn’t enough to redeem all its earlier missteps. In fact, here the story veered into even weirder, more confusing territory, making for an interesting but somewhat disjointed conclusion.
In the end, White Line Fever is a flawed horror novel which excels in certain areas but falls short in others. But although the thrills didn’t live up to the premise, it is still worth checking out if you enjoy unsettling character-driven stories, and the concept of an all-female cast trapped in a supernatural horror predicament makes me think this would appeal to fans of Rachel Harrison.
Book Review: The Gate of the Feral Gods by Matt Dinniman
Posted on March 17, 2025 16 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 Gate of the Feral Gods by Matt Dinniman
Mogsy’s Rating: 5 of 5 stars
Genre: Fantasy, Science Fiction
Series: Book 4 of Dungeon Crawler Carl
Publisher: Ace (March 11, 2025)
Length: 608 pages
Author Information: Website
There’s LitRPG, and then there’s Dungeon Crawler Carl. In fact, Matt Dinniman may have forever ruined this genre for me, as I don’t think I’ll ever find a series as fun and amazing. The Gate of the Feral Gods is the fourth installment, but there’s no slowing down here. Instead, we’re charging full steam ahead, plunging deeper into the chaos!
The story picks right up from where things left off in The Dungeon Anarchist’s Cookbook, joining Carl and his larger-than-life feline companion, Princess Donut, as they descend deeper into the dungeon in their continued fight for survival. Now on the fifth floor, the rules shift dramatically, presenting an entirely new set of challenges. This level introduces a unique twist: all crawlers are separated into individual biome-themed “bubbles” which are scattered across four quadrants of the game world. Unfortunately for Carl and Donut, this means being cut off from their friends, and to make matters worse, they won’t be able to access the next floor until all the objectives in their bubble are met. As this is not something they can do on their own, success hinges upon finding new allies—and fast.
By now, we’re starting to see a pattern emerge, with each level introducing a distinct gaming mechanic. In many ways, the fifth floor mirrors an epic game of Capture the Flag, in which crawlers are randomly assigned to the different bubbles, such as air, water, land, and deep ocean. Each biome also features their own set of dangers, mobs, and goals. The only way to break free is to destroy the castles in their respective bubbles, which would then allow crawlers to assist others in doing the same. But of course, Carl, Donut, and their new party member Katia have landed in one of the toughest bubbles, where the challenges are more difficult and the odds against them are stacked higher than ever. Still, as we all know, it will take much more than that to break their spirit.
The Gate of the Feral Gods was yet another fantastic sequel, and I just love cracking open each book to discover what awesome adventure awaits us next. What makes these books so addictive and so entertaining is the way each volume builds upon the ones that came before, driving up the excitement while still maintaining the humor, heart, and thrilling action. These books are laugh-out-loud funny, and I’m always surprised at Carl’s ingenious solutions to seemingly impossible situations. I’m also floored by the sheer creativity in everything from small-scale puzzles in the dungeon to the overarching intrigue of who or what in the great wide universe is actually in control of the crawl.
It’s honestly impressive how Dinniman can manage to juggle so many moving pieces of the storyline all at once. You’ve got multiple character arcs unfolding simultaneously, all their interconnected plotlines, a dungeon and its AI that are constantly shifting in new and unexpected ways, various RPG mechanics that are expanding as the characters get stronger, plus an intergalactic political drama playing out in the background to boot! Whew! With so much happening at once, one thing for sure is that you’ll never be bored, and what’s more, each storyline is given the time and attention it deserves. True, sometimes things can feel a little overwhelming, but so far, the author seems quite diligent in resolving story threads so that readers aren’t left hanging.
But truly, what sets Dungeon Crawler Carl apart is its character development. Yes, we get new quest lines, new boss fights, and plenty of the crazy-ass dungeon-crawling mayhem that can only come from the mind of Matt Dinniman, but we also get to see Carl and Donut’s relationships evolve—both with each other and with the ever-expanding cast of allies and adversaries. In some ways, this series has the feel of a favorite soap opera, where I just can’t wait to dive back in to catch up with all the characters.
That said, things get pretty bleak for some of them. It’s a sad fact that none of the side characters are truly safe, and even Carl and Donut get put through the wringer, as they adapt to increasingly cruel and brutal challenges. Our protagonist has repeatedly sworn that the dungeon will not break him, but with each new level, the physical and psychological toll on him only seems to get worse. Still, whenever circumstances start to look dire, there’s always much needed levity to pull us out—often thanks to Donut and her impeccable talent for saying the most absurd things at the most inopportune times.
When all is said and done, I think The Gate of the Feral Gods might be my favorite book of the series so far, delivering on every front and exceeding expectations in every way. This book has everything readers love about Dungeon Crawler Carl—pulse-pounding action, gut-busting humor, and surprisingly deep emotional moments—all wrapped up in an explosive plot that’s impossible to put down. It’s a must read for fans, obviously. And if you haven’t started this series yet, don’t wait! With the re-issuing of all the books, there’s no better time to jump in.
More on The BiblioSanctum:
Review of Dungeon Crawler Carl (Book 1)
Review of Carl’s Doomsday Scenario (Book 2)
Review of The Dungeon Anarchist’s Cookbook (Book 3)
Book Review: The Buffalo Hunter Hunter by Stephen Graham Jones
Posted on March 12, 2025 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.
The Buffalo Hunter Hunter by Stephen Graham Jones
Mogsy’s Rating: 4.5 of 5 stars
Genre: Horror
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Saga Press (March 18, 2025)
Length: 448 pages
Author Information: Website
At its heart, The Buffalo Hunter Hunter may be a vampire novel, but it’s about so much more that calling it such would be doing it a great disservice. Yes, the story involves undead, blood-drinking creatures. However, it is also a meditation on the scars of history, and, like any good western, features a tale of vengeance. In short, Stephen Graham Jones has created something far more complex than your typical vampire horror here.
The novel opens in 2012 with an introduction to Etsy Beaucarne, a junior professor at the University of Wyoming who is desperately looking for a way to revitalize her career. Her opportunity arrives when she comes into possession of a long-lost journal belonging to her great-great-grandfather, a Lutheran priest who lived in the American West in the early 1900s. Within its pages, Arthur Beaucarne had transcribed a stunning confession from a Blackfeet man named Good Stab who claimed to be an immortal vampire.
Through Good Stab’s recorded testimony, readers are plunged even farther back in time to the brutal winter of 1870, when US Army soldiers carried out the Marias Massacre that left hundreds of his people dead. Good Stab, one of the few survivors, swore that he would get his revenge, spending the next few decades hunting down those responsible. Yet his survival came at a heavy price. After losing his family, his home, and even his place in the world, Good Stab’s path changes his life forever. Possessed of both immense power and an insatiable hunger, he knows what happened to him is a curse—but it’s also one he can wield as a weapon against those who destroyed everything he once knew.
From the start, The Buffalo Hunter Hunter’s frame structure brings to mind Dracula, which is not the only nod to the classic. Stephen Graham Jones continues his homage with the epistolary style format, enhancing the story’s eerie, almost folktales-y like atmosphere. Despite its supernatural elements though, some of the most disturbing aspects of the novel are the parts rooted in reality—particularly the history of Indigenous genocide and the annihilation of the buffalo.
In Good Stab’s account, he wasn’t merely seeking revenge for the slaughter of his people, but also for the destruction of his whole way of life. His vampirism not only holds him forever in a state of constant hunger but also traps him in an endless cycle of rage and grief. Immortality offers him no peace but instead forces him to witness more loss as the years stretch on. This makes Good Stab one of the most interesting and tragic characters I’ve ever encountered. He isn’t a hero or a villain—just a man and then a creature driven by circumstance.
Like most vampire stories, The Buffalo Hunter Hunter is unsurprisingly violent and gory. That said, its horror manifests itself in lowkey, slow-burn ways as well. The author’s prose captures the harshness of the frontier, an unforgiving landscape where you are constantly struggling to survive. Though the pacing may be demanding at times, this story simply must be experienced on its own terms, requiring your full attention. With its mix of so many elements from history, mythology, and horror, this is not a book to be rushed but to be absorbed slowly, allowing its haunting themes to fully take hold.
If I had any criticisms at all, it would be that some parts of the story become repetitive at times, especially with regards to the interactions between Arthur and Good Stab. While this back and forth served to reinforce the narrative style, I think the novel could have packed the same emotion punch without being quite so long, and some streamlining would have been beneficial.
In the end, I absolutely loved The Buffalo Hunter Hunter, as in, it just might be my favorite book by the author yet. While it’s not the easiest read, the end results are satisfying and rewarding. Stephen Graham Jones’ storytelling skills are on full display here, and it would make me very happy to see him tackle more historical horror like this sin the future. Granted, I haven’t enjoyed everything he’s written, but when he’s good, he very good. And with this novel, he’s proven once again why he is one of the most important voices in the genre today. If you enjoy horror with depth, especially one exploring a dark chapter of American history, this is a must read.
The BiblioSanctum