Book Review: The Enchanted Greenhouse by Sarah Beth Durst
Posted on August 6, 2025 17 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 Enchanted Greenhouse by Sarah Beth Durst
Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars
Genre: Fantasy, Romance
Series: Book 2 of The Spellshop
Publisher: Bramble (July 15, 2025)
Length: 384 pages
I was so excited when I found out about Sarah Beth Durst’s plans for a companion novel to The Spellshop. A return to the world of one of my favorite books with a new cozy tale of magic and romance? Yes, please! Of course, you can still dive in if you are a newcomer, but those familiar with the first book will recognize the parable of Terlu Perna, a researcher at the Great Library of Alyssium who was turned into a statue for her use of unsanctioned magic. But she whose name was once just a cautionary tale now gets to have her own story of second chances and redemption in The Enchanted Greenhouse.
It begins with the crime and its punishment. A dejected but not entirely regretful Terlu is found guilty of illegally casting a spell to bring a spider plant to life (Caz!) and is sentenced to imprisonment as a statue. For how long, she doesn’t know, but she is only vaguely aware of time passing while her consciousness was locked into her wooden form. Then one day, light! And air! Terlu suddenly finds herself freed and back in her flesh form, but her surroundings are completely alien to her. She’s cold, confused, and all alone on a frigid little island, and all she can see around her are what appears to be a number of greenhouses containing dozens upon dozens of colorful and exotic plant species.
Soon, however, Terlu meets the island’s sole inhabitant, and apparently the one who had set her free. Yarrow, the taciturn caretaker of the greenhouses, was somehow under the impression that Terlu could help him restore the magic needed to maintain his plants, becoming disappointed when he learns she’s not who he thought she was. Still, he offers her sanctuary and promises to keep her presence a secret from the authorities, and in turn, Terlu resolves to help him figure out why the magic on the island is failing. After all, she is a librarian, and there’s no problem that can’t be tackled with a little research, some resourcefulness, and a lot of persistence—even if it means breaking the law again.
In true cozy romantasy fashion, The Enchanted Greenhouse gives our characters a second chance to find purpose, community, and perhaps even love. The focus of the narrative isn’t on conflict, and if there are any tensions at all, they lie in the smaller, more personal challenges. And it’s impossible not to be charmed here. Durst has an impressive stylistic range, mastering any genre with confidence and ease. Every book I’ve read by her has showcased a different strength, and she glides like a pro into this one, fully embracing the warmth and comfiness without sacrificing the emotions.
Speaking of which, the romance between Terlu and Yarrow is appropriately slow-burn, and awkward in all the cutest ways. Imagine two people with complicated pasts, both afraid of letting their feelings out because they have been hurt before. Calling it chemistry doesn’t feel right, exactly—maybe more of a stable equilibrium that’s constantly in balance, deepening slowly through shared kindness and purpose.
That said, The Enchanted Greenhouse is not without its flaws. The lighter plot is a doubled-edged sword, delivering a low-stakes experience that readers can kick back and relax with, but at times the pacing does grow too sluggish, especially when for the longest time it’s just Yarrow and Terlu on the island (the talking plants don’t really count when they are mostly there for comic relief and whimsy). Yarrow can sometimes be too impassive, leaving Terlu to do the heavy lifting when it comes to relationship dynamics. This might be why, despite sharing a world with The Spellshop, this installment doesn’t quite deliver the same emotional impact. Where The Spellshop featured a strong narrative hook riding on richer interactions with outside forces, The Enchanted Greenhouse focuses more on waging quiet internal battles with deep-seated doubts related to isolation and unresolved familial tensions.
And yet, I still love this world which continues to feel lived-in and full of vivid characters and wondrous magic. Despite it being slower and having slightly less of a pull than The Spellshop, The Enchanted Greenhouse offers a cozy, introspective return to a familiar and beloved setting. If you want to enjoy a low-key afternoon reading about the joys of small moments and personal growth, I recommend this gentle fantasy with a big heart.
![]()
![]()
More on the BiblioSanctum:
Review of The Spellshop (Book 1)
Book Review: The Library at Hellebore by Cassandra Khaw
Posted on August 2, 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 Library at Hellebore by Cassandra Khaw
Mogsy’s Rating: 2.5 of 5 stars
Genre: Horror
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Nightfire (July 22, 2025)
Length: 288 pages
Author Information: Website | Twitter
Time for another unpopular opinion, but despite the love I have for the dark academia genre, The Library at Hellebore didn’t really work for me—and for a pretty fundamental reason: I just couldn’t connect with the main character! While other aspects of the book had a lot of promise, if I’m struggling to get a bead on the people living through it all, then everything else tends to get lost, simple as that.
Story-wise, the novel takes place at the titular Hellebore Technical Institute, which actually is a prison disguised as a school for the magically gifted who are simply too dangerous to be allowed to roam free. Our protagonist, Alessa Li, is one such individual, forcibly enrolled after a violent incident involving her abusive stepfather. Here, she and her fellow students are supposed to be contained for the duration of their “rehabilitation,” where they learn to control their powers safely until they are deemed “normal” enough to return to the outside world. But one year later, instead of the freedom they were hoping for, Alessa and her peers find themselves hunted down on graduation day as Hellebore’s faculty quite literally begin attacking and devouring the student body.
As a bloodbath ensues, Alessa and seven of her classmates manage to flee to the school’s library and barricade themselves inside. But even then, they are not safe—for they have completely forgotten about the Librarian lurking in the stacks, whose hunger is just as deadly as the rest of the faculty’s. Trapped between the horrors outside and the monster within, the group of students are forced into an unthinkable bargain in order to survive: offer a human sacrifice each night, or risk being consumed themselves.
First, let’s start with the positives. The Library at Hellebore delivers an atmosphere that is both gorgeous and grotesque. If you’ve read the author before, you know how it goes; Khaw’s writing is always sharp and visceral and a little surreal, which pairs well with the book’s descent into body horror. It’s not an easy style, but it does a good job immersing the reader into the chaos and dread of Hellebore’s world. I also appreciated the novel’s unique angle on the well-tread dark academia genre especially when it was filtered through the distinctive tone of the writing, which helped convey the nightmarish nature of the setting.
Next, the so-so: While not completely deal-breaking, I was not crazy about the dual timeline structure alternating between Alessa’s early days at Hellebore and the present-day siege. Yes, it helped with building tensions as the two narratives gradually converged, but ultimately it was uneven and distracting, structurally damaging its own impact. We are also forced to learn the characters and the ins-and-outs of the school up front, making it feel like you’re always falling behind.
Another thing I was ambivalent about was Khaw’s actual prose, which was a little too purple in places. Every paragraph felt like it was dressed up to be a showpiece, packed with layers of pretentious metaphors and obscure vocabulary. Likewise, it was as if every big idea needed to be communicated in some profound, performative way, which didn’t actually make the story seem smarter—just harder to follow. At times, I found myself thinking, had everything just been stated plainly, maybe the reading experience would have been smoother and felt a lot less like it was trying to be an advanced lit course.
And now, what didn’t work for me at all: characters, characters, characters! As a protagonist, Alessa was honestly insufferable, vacillating between nihilism and self-righteousness with zero nuance. From the very beginning, I just wanted to tell her to get over herself. Then there were the others trapped in the library with her. Right now, I can’t remember a single one of their names to save my life or even describe any of their personalities, because they left so little impression. Despite the diversity in the cast, none of them felt genuine or emotionally real, and that’s what I really care about—not what their identity labels are or what kind of fancy powers they have.
In the end, perhaps the most frustrating part of all is this: on paper, The Library at Hellebore should have hit it out of the park. There was so much about it that I should have loved, and yet it fell flat. Bold and bloody it might be, but there was just no spark there to truly capture my attention, no strong characters to carry the narrative, and not enough cohesion to ground the worldbuilding or storytelling. Not going to lie, I probably would have DNF’ed this one had it not been such a quick read at less than 300 pages, so there was that, but I sadly still came away disappointed. I’m thinking that Cassandra Khaw just might not be for me.
![]()
![]()
Book Review: Bald-Faced Liar by Victoria Helen Stone
Posted on July 30, 2025 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.
Bald-Faced Liar by Victoria Helen Stone
Mogsy’s Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars
Genre: Thriller, Suspense
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Lake Union Publishing (June 17, 2025)
Length: 300 pages
Author Information: Website
As you can probably guess from the title, Bald-Faced Liar by Victoria Helen Stone is a psychological thriller that explores the slippery nature of truth. But while there’s plenty of like here, especially in the way the author plays with identity and secrecy, this novel wasn’t quite as sharp or suspenseful as I’d hoped it would be.
Set along the sunny coast of Santa Cruz, Bald-Faced Liar follows a woman of many different identities. It’s why she’s grateful to be called Elizabeth, a versatile name that lends itself to countless nicknames and is common enough to allow her to fly under the radar on google searches. For most of her life she’s been on the run from her past, drifting from one city to the next, reinventing a new life for herself every time she moves. In Santa Cruz, she can blend in among the never-ending supply of tourists, whom Elizabeth also takes a certain voyeuristic pleasure watching from afar. Learning their names, scrolling through their social media feeds, and piecing together their dramas, she thrives on imagining the lives of others because her self-imposed detachment keeps her from participating in normal interactions herself.
Still, there’s a certain charm to her new home, and against her nature and better judgment, thoughts begin to creep in about putting down roots here permanently. After all, life is good, and dare she hopes she’s finally escaped the long shadow of her past? However, this sense of peace does not last. Cracks start to form in the carefully constructed illusion of her existence when she realizes someone is watching her. At first, it’s subtle—an anonymous online attack meant to sabotage her at work, followed by threatening messages in the mail. But soon, these incidents begin to escalate into more dangerous territory, causing Elizabeth to fear for her life. With no one to turn to—she’s lied to too many people for too long— she wonders if everything she’s been running from has finally caught up with her.
With such an eccentric protagonist, it’s safe to say that Bald-Faced Liar is the kind of story that runs on the strength of its quirky character work. When the book opens, we literally meet Elizabeth in a tight spot, eavesdropping on her neighbors and delighting in the scandalous details of their lives. From the start, it’s clear that while Elizabeth may appear outwardly ordinary, there’s something deeply broken beneath the surface. Her obsession with spying on others and the thrill she gets from uncovering their intimate secrets point to some unresolved trauma from her childhood. In fact, throughout the early chapters, the subject keeps popping up, leading readers to question: What exactly did she do to result in all the paranoia and constant lying? Was it something scandalous, a crime of some sort, or perhaps even something unforgiveable? At this point, all we know is that whatever it was, it turned her into a pariah and set her on her nomadic path.
On the story front, the novel also comes out strong. Because of all the questions hanging in the air, there’s a perpetual atmosphere of tension that lingers, especially as more side characters are added and the suspect list starts to grow. While none of the supporting cast are explored too deeply, admittedly this might have been a direct consequence of Elizabeth’s aloofness and guarded behavior. Regardless, several of them actually offered potential for surprising turns and red herrings. The setting of Santa Cruz also added a lot flavor, and the author did a good job of bringing the quintessential California beach town to life, making it easy to see why Elizabeth loved living here so much.
That said, the excellent setup of a slippery heroine caught in a web of paranoia eventually unravels under the weight of its own twisty plotline and shifting character tones. Take Elizabeth, whose moral ambiguity made her a fascinating study for the first half of the novel when you were never quite sure whether to hate her or root for her. But as the truth gradually came to light, it turned out the big bad reveal wasn’t nearly as damning as it was made out to be—at least, not to me. In fact, many readers would probably feel sympathy for Elizabeth, or, at the very least, not hold anything against her. Personally, I found her much more intriguing when I had a more conflicted response towards her. I hate to say it, but once her backstory filled out, she became less of an enigma, falling into a more familiar and clichéd role.
I also thought the ending overstayed its welcome just a little. After delivering a satisfying punch at the climax, the book probably should have wrapped up quickly on a high note, yet the extended denouement dragged on just enough to feel a bit silly, undercutting the tensions that the story had worked so hard to build.
Other parts of Bald-Faced Liar will strain your ability to suspend disbelief, but despite some hiccups along the way, this book still has a lot going for it. The writing is sharp and witty, and the pacing moves well. The story never forgets to stay entertaining, even when it’s straying into the absurd. It’s a thriller that walks a fine line between dark suspense and character-driven drama, resulting in a mixed bag for sure, but an interesting one.
![]()
![]()
DNF Round-Up
Posted on July 25, 2025 13 Comments
Apparently, my last DNF Round-Up post was all the way back in January, and I was really hoping I wouldn’t need to write another one this year. But then summer hit. Up until a couple of months ago, things were actually going pretty well on the reading front, but there’s just something about the season that just makes it so much harder to be patient. Whether I’m lounging poolside in the sun or stuck in an airport during a long layover during my vacation, I expect my reading material to deliver. So if a book isn’t entertaining enough or matching my mood, it’s “See ya!”
With that caveat in place, please take my opinions with a grain of salt. It’s possible you might enjoy these books for the very reasons I didn’t. Regardless, I find it helps me greatly to process my reading experiences to to articulate why a book didn’t click for me. So that’s where these DNF reviews come in.
I received review copies from the publisher(s). This does not affect the contents of my reviews and all opinions are my own.
Go Luck Yourself by Sara Raasch
Mogsy’s Rating: DNF
Genre: Fantasy, Romance
Series: Book 2 of Royals and Romance
Publisher: Bramble (March 11, 2025)
Length: 320 pages
Each book in the Royals and Romance series revolves around a different holiday kingdom. So think Houses of Christmas, Easter, Halloween, etc., all infused with magical realism and festive flair. In Go Luck Yourself, someone’s been draining the magic from Christmas, and the only lead points to St. Patrick’s Day. To get to the bottom of it, Prince Kris heads to Ireland on a diplomatic mission only to find himself face-to-face wth his rival, Prince Lochlann. But as the two are forced to work together, the last thing Kris expected was to fall for Lochlann, but of course that is exactly what happens. Although I really enjoyed the concept and thought the setup was fun, this just wasn’t my up of tea. Quirky, contemporary rom-coms are tough enough for me to get into even when they have a fantasy bent, but this one just leaned too hard into cutesy for my tastes. The main characters also came across as shallow and immature. In the end, none of it was clicking for me, but I can see the appeal for readers who enjoy a light, tropey queer rivals-to-lovers romance.
Notes From a Regicide by Isaac Fellman
Mogsy’s Rating: DNF
Genre: Science Fiction
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Tor Books (April 15, 2025)
Length: 336 pages
In Notes from a Regicide, Griffon Keming is left reeling after the death of his second parents—the ones who rescued him from abuse, supported his transition, and tried to offer him love despite the weight of their own pasts. After a bloody revolution, all Griffon has left of his father are the journal entries he wrote in prison before his execution. Searching them for clues, he begins to unravel the family’s complicated history. Dang, not much to say about this one other than the fact I was so very bored. It’s a shame, because the prose is beautiful, if a bit dry. Unfortunately, there’s just not much room to appreciate the writing, characters, world-building, or anything else when all I could think about was how little enjoyment I was getting. This might be the slowest paced book I’ve read all year, and it was a relief to abandon it.
Mogsy’s Rating: DNF
Genre: Horror, Science Fiction
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Nightfire (May 6, 2025)
Length: 480 pages
When Stasia Miller was three years old, she wandered into the woods and was consumed by a strange alien plant. Days later, a little girl who looks and sounds just like Stasia reappears, claiming she’s an alien and warning that her people will one day invade Earth. Naturally, no one believes her…until years later, when a mysterious signal from space confirms that the armada is, in fact, on its way. And I had such high hopes for this novel! After all, I love plant-based horror. But honestly, I don’t think I’ve read a slower alien invasion story in my life. By the halfway point, Stacia and her group of annoying friends were still puttering around aimlessly with no sign of any real action on the horizon. To make matters worse, the book’s social messaging was so heavy-handed and in-your-face, I was genuinely shocked that an author of Mira Grant/Seanan McGuire’s caliber would let her storytelling get away from her like that, even if she does have a reputation for not always being subtle. Either way, Overgrowth did not deliver anything it promised. I gave it way more time than I normally would to turn things around, but eventually I just had to throw in the towel.
Audiobook Review: Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil by V.E. Schwab
Posted on July 24, 2025 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.
Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil by V.E. Schwab
Mogsy’s Rating (Overall): 4 of 5 stars
Genre: Fantasy, Historical Fiction
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Macmillan Audio (June 10, 2025)
Length: 18 hrs and 26 mins
Author Information: Website | Twitter
Narrators: Julia Whelan, Katie Leung, Marisa Calin
Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil is not your typical vampire novel. Although V.E. Schwab has always been known for blending her elegant prose with dark themes, this latest release feels like one of her most personal and ambitious works to date. It’s gothic, it’s moody, and very much character-driven, at times giving me a feminist version of Interview with the Vampire vibes. A slow-simmering story spanning centuries, Schwab’s latest focuses on power, womanhood, and the many forms of hunger that drive us.
The story unfolds across three timelines. The first of these begins in 1530s Spain, where we meet a young woman named Maria. Tired of being trapped in a suffocating life of obligation, she devises a plan to escape her insular village by marrying into a noble family, only to discover that her new life is just another kind of prison. Soon, however, she meets a stranger who offers her a different path—one that turns her into something more than human.
Another storyline takes us to 1820s London, where young Charlotte is cast out by her parents after being caught in a scandal involving her childhood best friend. Sent to live with her aunt in the city, she is expected to learn the proper ways of etiquette and quietly earn her way back into the fold. But while observing the older girls prepare for their debuts. Charlote catches the eye of Sabine, an elegant widow and influential Spanish countess who has seamlessly embedded herself into English high society. When Sabine offers to take her under her wing, Charlotte, captivated by the older woman’s charm and worldliness, finds herself quickly swept into her orbit.
The third and final storyline belongs to Alice, who lives in present-day Boston. After a night out on the town, which ends in a romantic encounter with a magnetic stranger, she wakes up alone, confused, and no longer human. But unlike Maria and Charlotte before her, Alice was not given a choice in her transformation. Deeply unsettled and furious at the violation, she sets out on a relentless quest to track down the woman responsible, determined to reclaim her autonomy in a world that now feels disturbingly unfamiliar and dangerous.
Though separated by time and place, each of these three women—Maria, Charlotte, and Alice—all share a common desire: freedom, and a chance to walk the path they choose. Yet as the stories of their lives unfold, it becomes clear that the cost of that freedom is steep and often comes with sacrifice. That said, it didn’t seem as though building an elaborate saga where all the pieces eventually clicked into place was a part of Schwab’s initial goal. Instead, the focus feels more individualistic, allowing each of her characters to fully take over her own storyline, give voice to her own experiences, and offer perspective to her own struggles.
Personally, I found this approach both wonderful and, at times, a little difficult. There’s no question that the author’s writing is at its best when she’s writing character studies and exploring their internal lives. It’s why The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue is one of my all-time favorite books. But essentially giving that richly drawn treatment to no less than three protagonists in a single novel does ask a lot of the reader, and as a result, its structure sometimes breaks the overall flow. It didn’t help that I just recently finished Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s The Bewitching, a book built along a similar framework, featuring three women over multi-generational timelines. And so, for me, it was not surprising that both books also stumbled over some of the same issues, namely the occasional slow spot, interrupted momentum, and a touch of emotional disconnection.
Still, there’s no denying the artistry of Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil as a whole. While all three protagonists were powerhouses in their own way, I was most drawn to Maria but the least interested in Alice. And that’s the beauty of the book. Each reader will likely connect with a different woman in the story, for their own reasons. Schwab gives each of her characters their own space to inhabit, trusting that they will speak for themselves, whether it’s Maria expressing her defiance, Charlotte her longing, or Alice her fury.
In the end, I enjoyed Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil and found it to be a resonant read. A special mention goes to the audiobook edition, which is truly outstanding. Performed by Julia Whelan, Katie Leung, and Marisa Calin, the audiobook makes each woman’s voice feel distinct and authentic. The narrators capture really well the tone, cadences, and accents of their characters living in their respective eras and locales, making the experience incredibly immersive. If you enjoy audiobooks, this one’s worth a listen. And if you like atmospheric, character-driven vampire tales with an immersive historical backdrop, this novel is worth your time.
![]()
![]()
Audiobook Review: Never Flinch by Stephen King
Posted on July 21, 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.
Mogsy’s Rating (Overall): 3.5 of 5 stars
Genre: Suspense, Thriller
Series: Book 4 of Holly Gibney
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Audio (May 27, 2025)
Length: 14 hrs and 44 mins
Author Information: Website
Narrators: Jessie Mueller, Stephen King
When Never Flinch was first teased as Holly Gibney’s return, I was immediately hyped. Over the course of the several books, from the Mr. Mercedes trilogy (that I binged last summer) to The Outsider and Holly, she’s quietly wormed her way into my heart and become one of my favorite Stephen King characters.
In this story, Holly has fully stepped into the role of seasoned private investigator, when her friend Izzy Jaynes on the police force reaches out with a unique and disturbing case that has them stumped. A mysterious letter had been sent to the station anonymously, and its writer promised to commit fourteen calculated killings as revenge for an innocent man murdered in prison. Intrigued, Holly agrees to help investigate on the side, especially when the body count begins to rise as feared.
Meanwhile, in another part of the country, feminist author and motivational speaker Kate McKay is on the road promoting her new book when she starts receiving a string of threatening messages. When the threats begin escalating toward something more dangerous, Kate’s assistant Corrie Anderson calls up Holly to see if she would be interested in a bodyguard gig while the book tour is in town, and maybe possibly help them catch their stalker.
With Holly already knee-deep in two investigations, things only get busier as Buckeye City gears up for the arrival of soul legend Sista Bessie, in town as part of her comeback tour. Naturally, Holly’s close friends, the Robinson siblings, are pulled into the action, with Jerome lending a hand to help with the event while Barbara takes on an even more involved role, collaborating with Bessie for a special on-stage performance. Between concert preparations and the upcoming police-versus-firefighters baseball fundraiser game—all while a serial killer is on the loose—the city’s attention is pulled in all directions. However, these two events will prove to become more than just background noise, forming the focal point where threads from both of Holly’s cases end up colliding in spectacular fashion.
Personally, I really enjoyed Never Flinch, but it was nowhere close to being King’s best. Still, the storytelling was as ever compelling, building a solid sense of tension with the multiple plotlines running in tandem. As someone who has been following Holly’s growth through the works she’s appeared in, I found it satisfying to see how far she’s come with her character development. She feels more confident, capable, and fully in control, which made me all the most invested in the cases she was juggling. Even when the narrative meandered, I was always eager to see how she would piece everything together.
So perhaps that was also why I found myself growing frustrated with some of the other perspectives, which occasionally felt overstuffed. For example, Corrie and Kate’s chapters stretched on for a while without moving the novel forward in meaningful ways, and I often caught myself impatient for the momentum to return elsewhere, preferably with Holly. Instead, we got more of the same with the Barbara and Sista Bessie subplot, which often dragged more than it added, feeling disconnected from the main thrust of the dual investigations. Plus, it didn’t help that there wasn’t much of a mystery, since the identities of both perpetrators were known early on and were even given POV chapters. At times, it felt less like King was building suspense and more like he was ruminating on themes and mood, thus undercutting the tension and pacing.
However, the novel’s afterword does shed some light. King was apparently recovering from hip surgery while writing this book, and during that time, it underwent multiple rewrites. That context could explain some of the uneven stops and starts, and the meandering sections that didn’t always resonate.
That said, while Never Flinch might not be a Stephen King masterpiece, it is still a solid and satisfying thriller. With its strong lead and the excitement of dual mysteries, this one kept me interested despite its pacing hiccups. And one highlight that definitely did not disappoint was the audiobook. Narrator Jessie Mueller was incredible, delivering one of the best performances I’ve ever had the pleasure of listening to. And boy, can she sing! Her narration elevated the story, making it a must-listen if you are a King fan and enjoy audiobooks.
![]()
![]()
Book Review: The Bewitching by Silvia Moreno-Garcia
Posted on July 16, 2025 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.
The Bewitching by Silvia Moreno-Garcia
Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars
Genre: Horror, Historical Fiction
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Del Rey (July 15, 2025)
Length: 368 pages
Author Information: Website
Silvia Moreno-Garcia is a truly versatile author. No matter the subject she’s tackling, every time I pick up one of her books, she’s always absolutely killing it with her knack of making everything feel interesting and immersive. Now she’s right back at it with The Bewitching, a supernatural horror weaving together three different timelines into a witchy multigenerational tale.
First, in 1908 Mexico, a young woman named Alba is reeling from the sudden death of her father and the unexplained disappearance of her brother. But while whispers in her village dismiss her suspicions as nothing more than foolish superstition, Alba is certain there’s more to what happened. Determined to uncover the truth with the help of her friend Valentin, what they find sets them onto a path of old folk magic and dark secrets.
Next, in 1934 Massachusetts, brilliant and ambitious Beatrice Tremblay is destined to become a pioneering horror writer, but for now, she is merely a college student. However, her most famous novel, The Vanishing, will be inspired by a very real tragedy: the disappearance of her roommate, Virginia. Rumored to possess a psychic link to the dead, Virginia vanishes under mysterious circumstances, leaving behind only questions and rumors.
Finally, in 1988, we meet Minerva, a graduate student at the very same college Beatrice once attended. In fact, Minerva is researching Beatrice for her thesis on the author’s overlooked contributions to horror literature. Yet, as she digs deeper, she comes across way more than she bargained for, including personal journals and other fragments from the 1930s that hint at something sinister. At the same time, Minerva finds herself haunted by the memories and stories passed down from her great-grandmother Alba—the same Alba who once grappled with loss and witchcraft in early 1900s Mexico.
As the novel progresses, the three women’s stories begin converging to form the big picture, with each character’s voice filling in their part of the puzzle. Indeed, one of the most impressive aspects of The Bewitching is how it balances all its moving parts while giving Alba, Beatrice, and Minerva their own distinct voices. Alba’s story, for example, is steeped in the atmosphere of rural Mexico, while Beatrice’s portion, told through journal entries and letters, has that wistful epistolary quality. And while both their POVs walk perfectly in step with the gothic tradition, Minerva’s timeline brings a bit of modernity and emphasizes her academic obsession.
That said, this isn’t a book that rushes to grab your attention, demanding some patience as the plot builds slowly, adding tension through revealing more of the backstory and the uncanny parallels between the three timelines. At times, I did find the pacing and timing of the reveals uneven, particularly in the early stages. For instance, Minerva and Alba’s chapters took longer to engage me, but I definitely had a soft spot for Beatrice’s story, which felt the most infused with mystery and presence. Fortunately though, once all the gears started turning together and the book hit its stride, I was hooked. And even if I did ultimately predict the ending to both Alba’s and Minerva’s sections, the former’s tale proved the most effective in delivering the chills, and the latter’s conclusion gave the book its fantastic ending.
Furthermore, The Bewitching draws on the ideas of superstition, folklore, and sinister history to power its eerie atmosphere and haunting premise, so if this is the type of horror you enjoy, it is certainly worth a look. One of Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s most layered and intricately structured novels to date, this is a must read for her fans and highly recommended for readers of creepy, witchy fiction.
![]()
![]()
Book Review: Wearing the Lion by John Wiswell
Posted on July 7, 2025 12 Comments
received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.
Wearing the Lion by John Wiswell
Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars
Genre: Fantasy, Mythology
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: DAW (June 17, 2025)
Length: 384 pages
Author Information: Website
After my first experience with John Wiswell ended up being a bust—I actually DNFed Someone You Can Build a Nest In—I wasn’t sure his style was going to work for me. But Wearing the Lion caught my attention with its Greek mythology inspiration, and I’m glad I gave it a shot because this one definitely clicked!
A reimagining of the Heracles myth, the novel follows both Heracles and Hera in alternating POV chapters. Hera, long fed up with Zeus’s endless affairs, reaches a breaking point with the birth of the infant demigod Heracles, who is yet another reminder of her husband’s philandering ways. Unable to punish Zeus the way she wants, she decides to channel her resentment toward his favored newborn son instead. However, the irony is that Heracles would grow up to become one of her most devoted followers, believing her to be the only deity worthy of his worship.
Yet Hera remains unappeased, growing increasingly agitated each time Heracles manages to survive her schemes or turn them to his advantage. Eventually, in a moment of impulsive cruelty, she goes too far. Heracles is driven temporarily mad due to her actions and, in his confusion, kills his own children. Devastated and desperate to understand why this happened to him, he sets off in search of answers and revenge, certain only that a god is responsible, though he would have never suspected his beloved goddess. Racked with guilt but unable to own up to her mistake, Hera tries to mislead him by sending him on a wild goose chase to slay a bunch of monsters. But Heracles, heartsick and unwilling to take any more lives, defies expectations and makes them his allies instead. Together, he and his team of monsters set out to uncover the truth behind what happened, even as Hera runs out of reasons and ways to take responsibility for what she has done.
Rather than simply rehashing the familiar tale of Heracles’ Labors, Wearing the Lion offers a fresh and fascinating reinterpretation of the myth, turning it on its head. Instead of embracing the violence and brute strength typically associated with the hero, this version of Heracles chooses empathy over rage, forging unexpected bonds with the very creatures he’s been sent to destroy. But the book also invests a great deal of time and attention at the beginning to help readers understand why Heracles might approach his tasks this way, using them as a path to process his overwhelming grief and guilt. The result is a story that feels both tender and subversive, bringing warmth and introspection in a way that’s often comforting, yet at times the emotional weight can also make this novel heart wrenchingly difficult to read.
Perhaps that’s why I found the amount of humor surprising—because there’s actually quite a lot of it. From the very beginning, Wearing the Lion adopts a wry, knowing tone that adds a layer of lightness to an otherwise heavy narrative. Hera’s voice is particularly sharp, sardonic, and often hilarious, especially when she directs her exasperation towards the other gods, including Zeus, whom she refers to as her “dipshit husband.” In contrast, Heracles’ POV is much more grounded and subdued, reflecting the weight of the sorrow he carries, but even then, there are moments of levity peeking through. The Nimean Lion named Purrseus, anyone?
That said, the novel wasn’t without its rough patches. I found the middle section to be the weakest, where Heracles’ spiraling grief and Hera’s ongoing guilt and denial started to feel repetitive. The plot stalled a bit during this stretch, spinning its wheels around the same topics without much forward movement. Additionally, much of the book is written in second person, which I confess is not always my cup of tea. With the dual POVs and the occasional ambiguity around which “you” the characters might be addressing, it frequently got confusing.
Even so, I admire John Wiswell’s willingness to take risks and get a little weird. Balancing grief with humor is no easy feat, but Wear the Lion somehow pulls it off with heart and creativity. Greek mythology being the crowded field it is, there’s no shortage of traditional retellings if that’s what you’re looking for. But for something quirkier and more emotionally nuanced than the usual fare, you might want to check this one out. With its emphasis on found family, compassion, and healing over conquest, it’s a refreshingly offbeat take on an old story.
![]()
![]()
Book Review: One Yellow Eye by Leigh Radford
Posted on July 4, 2025 8 Comments
received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.
One Yellow Eye by Leigh Radford
Mogsy’s Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars
Genre: Horror
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Gallery Books (July 15, 2025)
Length: 352 pages
Author Information: Website
I have read a lot of zombie books, and many of them feature similar themes of chaos in the streets or a desperate fight for survival. Once in a rare while, however, I’ll come across one that’s far more intimate and slow-burning.
In One Yellow Eye, author Leigh Radford delivers her introspective take on a zombie apocalypse that feels deeply personal. Set in a near-future London just months after the outbreak of a contagious virus that turns people into mindless, violent husks for their former selves, the city has mostly managed to contain the pandemic. With the infected purged, the government can finally now turn its attention to finding a cure. Dubbed Project Dawn, the new initiative is drawing some of the country’s best and brightest scientific minds, each determined to uncover the origins of the virus and ensure that something like this would never happen again.
One of these research scientists is our protagonist Kesta Shelley. Like many others, she wants to be part of the effort to safeguard the future of the world, except Kesta is also hiding a terrible secret. While the government claims that the crisis is over and all infections have been eliminated for now, Kesta’s husband Tim, one of the last to be infected, is still alive. And he’s currently chained up in their apartment, where he exists in a state of constant sedation to prevent his violent urges from surfacing—and to buy Kesta more time. Unable to let Tim go, her only hope is to secure a position in Project Dawn and secretly use its resources for her own research before anyone discovers what she’s hiding at home. But as the clock ticks down and Tim gets increasingly harder to control, Kesta will have to face the question of how far she’s willing to go to save the man she loves.
For the most part, I really enjoyed this book, especially the first half. From a conceptual standpoint, there’s a lot that makes One Yellow Eye special. While Radford is certainly not the first author to humanize her zombies, I appreciated the way she added a layer of tragedy here by letting them retain flickers of their identity and memories still trapped inside the prison of the virus. I also liked the emphasis on the science behind the outbreak. Much like The Last of Us, it features an origin for the zombie virus with roots in the natural world, and I always find those kinds of connections fascinating. Better yet, even if you’re someone who’s burned out on pandemic fiction, there’s just enough sci-fi here to keep it from feeling like yet another COVID-inspired novel.
But arguably, the main selling point of One Yellow Eye is the heartbreaking nature of it. Kesta’s situation is awful, and her desperation is palpable. The story is most engaging when she is interacting with her husband, even in his zombified state. Though we only see him as a shell of the man he once was, Kesta’s memories help paint a fuller picture of who he used to be and what he meant to her, allowing readers to understand the depth of her devotion. Her love for Tim drives the entire plot, but over time, it becomes clear that the author is also inviting us to question when love crosses the line into unhealthy obsession. Because of this, Kesta’s motivations aren’t always easy to empathize with, but the idea of loving someone so much that you’d do anything to save them is undeniably relatable, even if her choices sometimes feel extreme.
I also felt that, while the first half of the book built strong emotional and thematic foundations, the second half was a little messier by comparison. The plot began to feel a little scattered, with a few sub threads fizzling out here and there without resolution. The pacing also started to flag, weighed down by more than just Kesta’s questionable decisions at this point, as repetitive conflicts with the same people and problems started cropping up. Ultimately, I found myself wishing the ending had been more cohesive and impactful.
That said, I didn’t regret my time with One Yellow Eye. Despite my issues with it, I still found it to be a smart and thoughtful debut that brings something new to the zombie horror genre. Leigh Radford’s writing was also compelling, hitting the right notes at the right parts to be both poignant and disturbing. If you want a “traditional” zombie novel, this isn’t it. But if you’re in the mood for something more personal and introspective, and the premise interests you, One Yellow Eye is well worth a look.
![]()
![]()
Book Review: My Ex, the Antichrist by Craig DiLouie
Posted on July 1, 2025 9 Comments
received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.
My Ex, the Antichrist by Craig DiLouie
Mogsy’s Rating: 4.5 of 5 stars
Genre: Horror
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Run For It (July 1, 2025)
Length: 406 pages
Author Information: Website
Craig DiLouie has been on a roll lately, and My Ex, the Antichrist is yet another reason why he’s become one of my must-read authors of horror who doesn’t just think outside the box—he kicks the hell out of it like a rock star trashing the stage. The premise alone caught my attention, with its promise of punk rock, doomed love, and the possible end of the world. But even then, I wasn’t at all prepared for how compulsively readable this novel turned out to be. I didn’t want to put it down, so I didn’t. I must have devoured it in a matter of hours.
Told in the style of a documentary retrospective, the story follows Lily Lawlor, a sheltered Catholic college student whose life is turned upside down after she meets a mysterious and charismatic young man named Drake. Bonding over their shared passion for music and a desire to change the world, their friendship quickly turns into a romance, and together they channel that energy into forming a band called The Shivers. Under Drake’s magnetic leadership, they quickly recruit a bassist, a keyboardist, and a drummer, and Lily—now reinventing herself as Lily Lawless—dives headfirst into the punk rock scene. Before long, the band is booking gigs and making waves, except the attention they’re attracting isn’t exactly the kind they want. Strange things start happening at their shows, like people fainting and brawls breaking out randomly. The crowd just seems to spiral out of control wherever they perform.
As the band’s buzz grows, so does the chaos that seems to follow them. Lily begins to suspect there’s something much darker going on, especially with Drake, whose moods are becoming chillier and more unpredictable. Eventually, he leaves the band, breaking Lily’s heart in the process. But this is not the last they see of Drake. Soon, he turns up as the lead guitarist in a rival band poised to headline a massive battle-of-the-bands competition ominously named Armageddon, an event that The Shivers, now under Lily’s leadership, is also hoping to win. What began as a story about music and rebellion suddenly blows up into something far more apocalyptic as Drake embraces his larger destiny tied to the end of days. With the fate of the world hanging in the balance, it might all come down to who can rock the hardest.
This book was an absolute blast! Yes, there are creepy moments, but for the most part, it capitalizes on campy and over-the-top horror than anything traditionally scary. And honestly? That’s part of the appeal. The story doesn’t take itself too seriously, and that gives the wild concept behind it the room it needs to breathe. I especially loved all the nods and references to punk rock and its culture. My Ex, the Antichrist was the whole package complete with attitude and vibes, and it’s clear the author has a real love for the scene because it pours through every page.
But what really made this book stand out for me was its structure. The story is framed as if we’re watching a docu-series offering a deep dive into an event that has already happened, including interviews, news articles, and other background snippets from sources connected to The Shivers and the madness that followed them. Much of the narrative focuses on the band’s origins, like how they came together and found their sound. These insights ground the story and provide it with its emotional heart, but it’s also more than that. Interjections from side characters and other epistolary bits sprinkled throughout add extra layers of depth and texture to the plot. It was just a really cool way to present a story, and it hooked me immediately.
Of course, for all this to work, your characters have to be strong, and I’m happy to say the book delivered on that front. The band members take center stage, each one feeling distinct and authentic. Their clashing personalities made for some great moments, particularly in those early days when they’re still figuring each other out. But while Drake is the dark star they all orbit, the life of the story is all Lily. Her character arc, which showed her transformation from an innocent and timorous teen to true punk rock princess, was worth the price of admission alone. Watching her find her voice, both literally and figuratively, was incredibly satisfying, especially when she comes to realize she doesn’t need Drake to make it on her own.
There’s a lot going on here, and it’s probably not going to be everyone’s cup of tea. However, it worked for me. You learn rather quickly to roll with it and enjoy the ride. All in all, My Ex, the Antichrist is a wildly entertaining read, and I loved its unique premise, inventive storytelling style, and the sheer energy of it all. Even when it gets weird, it’s the kind of weird that’s bold, imaginative, and keeps you glued to the page. Musically themed horror is fast becoming one of my favorite niche genre mash-ups, and if the concept of this one even remotely intrigues you, I say go for it! A must-read for Craig DiLouie fans.
![]()
![]()











