Audiobook Review: We Live Here Now by Sarah Pinborough
Posted on June 9, 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.
We Live Here Now by Sarah Pinborough
Mogsy’s Rating (Overall): 4 of 5 stars
Genre: Mystery, Thriller
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Macmillan Audio (May 20, 2025)
Length: 8 hrs and 48 mins
Author Information: Website | Twitter
Narrators: Helen Baxendale, Jamie Glover
Sarah Pinborough does it again! We Live Here Now is a gripping blend of domestic suspense and thrills, seasoned with the author’s signature touch of the supernatural. With her knack for unexpected twists and turns, she delivers a fresh take on the classic gothic haunted house tale, even channeling a bit of Edgar Allen Poe.
At the center of this story is a troubled marriage. After Emily is nearly killed in a devastating accident, she and her husband Freddie move from bustling London to the quiet countryside hoping for a chance to start over. But while their new home is on a gorgeous but remote estate called Larkin Lodge featuring charming architecture and idyllic views, Emily still can’t help her feelings of unease. Granted, she’s no longer the same person she was before the accident, which had put her in a coma. The post-sepsis recovery didn’t help either, making her feel depressed about everything she lost, including a pregnancy and her career. Emily’s doctors had even warned her of possible psychological trauma, leaving her wondering if there is something more sinister behind the house’s creaky sounds and drafty halls, or just her frazzled nerves getting the best of her.
And yet, there is a particular room on the third floor that simply feels wrong to Emily, and she doesn’t think it can be explained away by her stress or any medications. She has witnessed strange things happening in this room, and the walls seem to practically speak to her, wanting badly for her to know its secrets. Still, whatever they might be, Emily is certain they can’t be worse than the ones she’s hiding from Freddie—and she’s just as sure he’s hiding some of his own too. As they struggle to settle into their new life, they begin to reach out to friends and neighbors, hoping to restore a sense of normalcy, and perhaps to uncover the terrible truth behind the history of Larkin Lodge.
What really makes this novel tick is its slow-build tension and the way Pinborough creates such an eerie atmosphere. On point with her other suspense thrillers, this story doesn’t try for the big scares, going instead for the gradual creep-under-your-skin strategy. Adding to those tensions are the alternating viewpoints between Emily and Freddie, both of whom are obviously hiding things—from each other and from the reader. Behind every failing marriage, there are two sides of the story, each fraught with guilt, resentment, and mistrust. This results in a tangled narrative that’s full of misdirection, and we’re never quite sure who to believe. The gaps between the characters’ POVs leave just enough room for doubt and second-guessing. What’s the truth? What’s imagined? What else don’t we know?
As for the mystery behind the house itself, I’m definitely not going to be the one to spoil it. Suffice it to say, Pinborough doesn’t rush the reveals. The clues are left to simmer with hints of murder, betrayal, blackmail, and a whole lot of psychological manipulation. It’s all delightfully messy and melodramatic, perfect if you enjoy your thrillers full of unexpected surprises. And if this is your first book by the author, I think you will be floored by the ending. Heck, even long-time fans bracing for the inevitable sucker punch might still be thrown for a loop. I know I was. The finale is a classic Sarah Pinborough jaw-dropper, one of those endings that send you scrambling back to the beginning of the book to see what signs you might have missed.
Finally, I listened to the audiobook, and it was a fantastic experience. Narrators Helen Baxendale and Jamie Glover both bring depth and nuance to their characters, doing a phenomenal job capturing the sense of fraying nerves and growing paranoia. In the end, We Live Here Now is a haunting domestic thriller with a creepy supernatural undercurrent. Highly recommended for readers who enjoy mysteries with a sharp psychological edge and a gothic twist.
Book Review: Scales by Christopher Hinz
Posted on June 5, 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.
Mogsy’s Rating: 3 of 5 stars
Genre: Science Fiction, Thrillers
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Angry Robot (April 8, 2025)
Length: 432 pages
Author Information: Website
Before I get into the meat of this review, I’ll admit I feel a little bit duped. When I first saw the book’s blurb pitching Scales as a perfect read for fans of Jurassic Park, I’d initially pictured rampaging dinos. The truth is actually something quite different. While I would still classify this novel as a techno-thriller, and there was no doubt some bioethical questions involved, its premise nonetheless puts it more in line with military sci-fi, super soldiers, and covert ops fiction. That said, once expectations are readjusted, you may yet find a certain appeal to this high-octane action thriller.
The story follows Eddie Boka, a U.S. soldier turned genetically modified superhuman as part of a classified military experimental program fusing human and dinosaur DNA. After going through the genetic modifications, he and three other volunteers for the program are gifted with enhanced strength, more acute senses, and scaly armor, making them deadly and durable combatants on the battlefield. However, these newfound talents also come with an unfortunate side effect. Dubbed the bloodburn, it is a primal compulsion that takes over during combat, and it strikes Eddie during his first mission. While carrying out an attack on a guerilla camp, he loses control, giving in to a violent and animalistic urge to devour one of his victims. Alarmed, the researchers behind the program realize they must address this gruesome development before introducing their dino-human hybrids to the public. After all, it would be extremely difficult to generate support if people were to find out Eddie and his peers harbor a tendency towards cannibalism.
Thus, enter Adelaide LaTour. A controversial psychotherapist, Addi is the inventor of an effective but much maligned treatment process involving conditioning with what is essentially a very powerful shock collar. By inviting her to the research complex to work with Eddie, his handlers hope that her unorthodox methods will help tamp down the bloodburn and its undesirable urges. And yet, what neither Addi nor Eddie anticipated was the bond that forms between them, one that eventually deepens into something more. Meanwhile, as their forbidden romance grows even more complex, the facility’s darker secrets are also beginning to surface. Hidden experiments that have been kept buried by the megalomaniacal scientist behind the program are ultimately exposed, threatening the future and lives of human-dino hybrid soldiers like Eddie.
From the jump, this story throws readers into a fast-paced adventure that rarely lets up. Hinz is in his element and appears most comfortable when he’s writing action like covert mission detail and close-quarter combat situations, appearing to have a strong grasp of the genre’s expectations. The book is also most compelling when it explores Eddie’s physical transformation and the bioengineering experimentation that happens behind the scenes, and there’s a subtle yet intriguing thread of ethical questions underlying this premise, exploring the issues of control, consent, and institutional overreach.
However, beyond this is where the novel starts to falter. As much fun as I had with the action, something felt missing: depth. For one, there is a distinct lack of emotional substance as characters rarely show much of themselves underneath the surface, acting more like archetypes than real people. Eddie is the tortured and noble soldier, who is good at heart but made some mistakes in his youth. Addi is the brilliant but morally ambiguous therapist, who is more concerned about her reputation than she lets on. Sure, these labels are easy enough to apply, but what led them to be this way? We don’t really know, because the story never goes deeper. Side characters are even more roughly sketched, filling cookie cutter roles like “mad scientist” or “hard-ass military commander.”
To be honest, this is all fine if you’re okay with a book equivalent of a mindless summer Hollywood blockbuster, but Scales really pushed its luck when it came to the romance between Eddie and Addi. Not surprisingly, when you put two thinly developed characters together, the result is you get zero chemistry and an unnatural, unconvincing relationship that ultimately feels like a rush job. And it’s a shame, really. It’s as though Hinz’s instincts told him his novel needed a love story, but he couldn’t quite write one in with genuine feeling.
Needless to say, the book also requires you to suspend your disbelief, though to be fair, that’s a pretty standard prerequisite when it comes to sci-fi thrillers of this type. Much of it is also entertaining, but in many ways makes it feel more like reading a comic book or watching a movie rather than a novel, and no doubt the author’s comics and screenplay writing background plays into this. Everything might feel bold and loud, yet the words are missing that special ingredient that gives the prose presence and polish.
In the end, Scales was a decent read. It’s popcorn fiction in every sense of the term, featuring big ideas, big stakes, and big action, even if it doesn’t fully commit to exploring much beyond the surface. There’s no doubt a lot of entertainment to be found here, especially if you don’t mind a bit of genre absurdity. For me, this was a perfectly average read, though I did appreciate the diversion.
Book Review: Feeders by Matt Serafini
Posted on May 30, 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.
Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars
Genre: Horror
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Gallery Books (May 20, 2025)
Length: 416 pages
Author Information: Website | Twitter
I just recently watched The Substance, that crazy body horror movie starring Demi Moore, and my brain still hasn’t fully recovered. It’s the kind of dark satire that relishes making you uncomfortable while shining a twisted light on our deepest societal insecurities, especially with regards to vanity and self-destruction. With Feeders by Matt Serafini: same vibes, but different angle. While the book doesn’t do sci-fi or transformational horror, it does boast its fair share of gore and follows a protagonist so desperate for validation and celebrity that she’s willing to debase herself and hurt others to get it.
The story follows nineteen-year-old Kylie Bennington, a community college student using school as a stepping-stone toward something bigger—but what she really wants is to become an online influencer. Perpetually envious of her best friend Erin who has millions of followers on social media and gets comped gifts from sponsors, Kylie is hungry for the same attention and desperate to be someone, yet that dream always seems to feel just out of reach. That is until MonoLife comes into the picture. When a clip of a former classmate’s brutal murder begins circulating online, Kylie is made aware of the underground video sharing app, which features layers of cryptic rules and user levels. Signing up is easy, but keeping your account is another story. The first rule of MonoLife is you don’t talk about MonoLife, or you will face dire consequences. The app also requires at least two daily logins or else it will delete itself, resulting in loss of access forever.
Her curiosity piqued, Kylie is quickly drawn into MonoLife’s unique but warped culture, one driven by a userbase that thrives on edgy content that pushes boundaries. Her ambition also gradually turns to obsession as she becomes addicted to unlocking the app’s special levels, which are earned by gaining more followers and clout. In time, what started as a few harmless prank videos begin escalating to more extreme stunts and vile acts. Yet her audience is insatiable—and the more depraved the content she posts, the more the algorithm rewards her with fame and material wealth. Thus, by the time the story reaches its final act, Kylie has flung herself across just about every ethical line there is.
First, let’s talk about the characters. These are all awful people, which is fine because you are definitely meant to despise and occasionally even pity them. These aren’t just morally gray personalities; some are darker than the pits of hell. Kylie, for one, is equal parts horrifying and fascinating—a vain, self-absorbed, and unstable powder keg willing to go to any length for subscribers and likes. While I had to keep reminding myself that her over-the-top characterization is by design, there’s also something disturbingly real about her zeal, considering the numerous studies showing that a large percentage of Gen Zers list social media influencer as their dream job. For what it’s worth though, Serafini even doesn’t try to redeem his protagonist, and I respect that. It makes you question if Kylie was ever a good person, or if her thirst for fame was always just lurking beneath the surface—probably the case, given her obsession with influencer culture and the way she worships her hero Katy Perry like a religion.
As for the horror, all I can say is, it works, even as several styles are vying for dominance here. On the one hand, you have bloody violence aplenty, enough to satisfy genre lovers whose tastes might run towards slasher flicks. On the other, there’s the existential dread, the why behind Kylie’s downward spiral into depravity and corruption. MonoLife doesn’t just encourage evil. It rewards it by triggering those surges of dopamine, leading to a need for increasingly higher doses for more intense engagement. Feeders is a brutal metaphor for the worst parts of social media, and watching Kylie succumb to it is a lot like watching a car crash in slow motion—you simply can’t look away.
My final verdict: Feeders is a dark and disturbing novel steeped in social commentary, one that feels especially relevant in these hyper plugged-in times. Bear in mind it’s also a satire that’s completely over-the-top and not at all shy about making you squirm. So, if you’re into bold topical horror that holds absolutely nothing back, this book might be for you. Who it’s not for are the squeamish, or for readers looking for happy endings and sympathetic characters to root for. Still, it leaves an impression, and maybe even a few lingering thoughts to chew on.
Book Review: Anji Kills A King by Evan Leikam
Posted on May 29, 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.
Anji Kills A King by Evan Leikam
Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars
Genre: Fantasy
Series: Book 1 of The Rising Tide
Publisher: Tor (May 13, 2025)
Length: 368 pages
Author Information: Website
Anji Kills a King by Evan Leikam made me realize something. Fantasy doesn’t always need grand epic battles or ancient prophecies to pull you in. Sometimes all it takes is one bold act by a single person.
The title even tells you what to expect. Anji, a young palace laundress, slits the king’s throat in the book’s opening pages, and everything that follows is one wild bloody, ride. Immediately after that spur-of-the-moment assassination, our protagonist goes on the run and is almost just as immediately apprehended by a notorious bounty hunter known as the Hawk. A member of the Menagerie, a legendary organization consisting of mercenaries who wear animal-shaped masks, the Hawk is determined to bring her prey back to face justice and collect the massive cash prize on Anji’s head. Thus, the prisoner becomes physically and magically tethered to the captor, forming a bond that neither of them wants.
Pretty soon, Anji also realizes there’s more to the Hawk’s reasons for chasing her than just gold. She’s not working with the rest of the Menagerie, for one. As they are relentlessly pursued by the Hawk’s former colleagues and other factions that want to see Anji silenced or dead, the two of them are forced to travel through some of the roughest parts of a fractured and war-torn kingdom. It’s a path littered with traps and pitfalls, and with every close call, their uneasy alliance is tested, forcing both to question who their real enemies are and what they’re willing to do to survive.
For a story featuring such epic scope and widespread conflict, Anji Kills a King feels remarkably intimate and personal. While it’s clear that our protagonist’s act of regicide has thrown more fuel on an already blazing fire of political unrest, all that chaos remains only ambient noise in the background. The real story, and what truly matters here, is the relationship between two people. We already know the world outside is falling apart, but Leikam keeps the spotlight tight on Anji and the Hawk, making their complicated relationship the core of the novel.
It helps that both our main characters are fascinating figures, just as likely to frustrate you as they are to charm you. Anji is someone who might seem a little dumb and reckless at first. After all, she kills a king on impulse, and then, instead of getting the hell out of dodge, she winds up getting caught while drinking and gambling at a tavern. The Hawk, in contrast, is all sharp edges and discipline, an older professional who doesn’t take any chances, even if it means carrying out what might seem like cruel decisions. This dynamic carries the book, especially when the tone of the story darkens and the struggle between the controller and the controlled gradually evolves into understanding and then grudging respect.
If I had any criticisms at all, it would be the plot’s tendency towards reusing the same devices. Like I said, this is a story meant to feel up-close-and-personal and relatively small-scale, so more variety is going to be needed. Anji and the Hawk end up spending a lot of time running through the same loop of evading the bad guys, narrowly escaping, getting caught, and breaking free—rinse and repeat. There are interesting moments in between, but after a while, the pattern can’t be denied. And while the writing is sharp and keeps things moving at a good speed (this was a quick and easy read), the big emotional moments don’t always feel as significant as they should. Often, it’s almost as though the book is already racing ahead to make its next big impact before the dust of the last one has even settled.
All in all, Anji Kills a King is a fast-paced, riveting debut with plenty of grit from both the story and the characters. Dig a little deeper though, and there’s a surprising amount of heart. While the novel doesn’t offer anything too new for those of us who read a lot of fantasy, Evan Leikam succeeds in delivering memorable characters and interesting world-building, even if the latter is quietly done. This is a book I would recommend to genre fans who enjoy following heroes who get into lots trouble but somehow manage to keep going anyway. I’ll be checking out the sequel.
Book Review: The Knight and the Moth by Rachel Gillig
Posted on May 23, 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 Knight and the Moth by Rachel Gillig
Mogsy’s Rating: 4.5 of 5 stars
Genre: Fantasy
Series: Book 1 of The Stonewater Kingdom
Publisher: Orbit (May 20, 2025)
Length: 400 pages
Author Information: Website | Twitter
I confess I had my doubts when I started this one. After all, my first experience with Rachel Gillig’s work, One Dark Window, was not the most positive. That book left me cold with its confused themes and scattered direction, yet the author’s strong writing and the premise of her latest novel intrigued me enough to give her another shot—and I’m glad I did. The Knight and the Moth delivered a beautiful story that features a clearer narrative, compelling characters, and a gothic romantic tone that simply clicked with me in a way her previous series hadn’t.
The novel opens by transporting readers to the haunting, isolated grounds of Aisling Cathedral, where six nameless girls have served as Diviners ever since being rescued as foundlings by the abbess. Revered as soothsayers, Diviners undergo a dangerous water ritual to interpret the future from visions received through dreams induced while they are nearly drowned. Among them is Number Six, once known as Sybil Delling, a young woman who has spent nearly the past decade enduring this process for the benefit of those traveling to Aisling seeking wisdom. Now nearing the end of her service, she and her five sister Diviners are looking forward to their lives of freedom once they leave the cathedral, until an unexpected visit from the “Boy King” Benedict Castor III throws everything into chaos.
Benedict, newly crowned and still in his late teens, has come for a reading to see what lies ahead for his reign. Among his retinue is his loyal knight, Rodrick “Rory” Myndacious, whose open contempt for the Diviners’ rituals immediately grates on Six. Her suspicion proves justified when she catches the king and Rory stealing water from the cathedral’s sacred spring, but instead of turning them in, she strikes a deal: in exchange for her silence, they must take the Diviners out on the town for one final night of revelry before their time at Aisling ends. Yet soon after this outing, things take a darker turn when the Diviners start disappearing, one by one. Fearing that something far more sinister is at work, Six flees the cathedral with Rory’s help, hoping to buy some time while she works to locate her missing friends.
Although romantasy is arguably its main selling point, where The Knight and the Moth truly stood out was in its immersive atmosphere and world-building which felt both eerie and mythical. The setting of Aisling Cathedral, where the Diviners are cloistered, is one that casts a gothic shadow over the early chapters, with its abbess and cryptic rituals shrouded in secrecy. The young women, who go by their numbers One to Six, have had their identities erased and their eyes covered, the better to train them to a life of obedience and reading the Omens. Besides each other, they only have the cathedral’s sentient gargoyles for companionship. But as if all this weren’t intriguing enough, it’s the hints of an even deeper magical ecosystem that intrigued me, particularly the supernatural creatures called sprites that populate the world. Though their appearances were brief, they added a wild, almost elemental energy to the setting, and I hope their lore will be further explored in the next installment.
With regards to the romance, the relationship between Six—AKA Sybil—and Rory is one that simmers quietly in the background while the story’s main events play out, and that’s just the way I like it. Not too slow and yet not so strong that it overwhelms the central plotline, it unfolds with natural chemistry between the two characters. Not quite a “hate to love” romance, theirs is a dynamic which begins with mutual disdain but gradually shifts into something more intimate and vulnerable, and while the sparks don’t fly right away, by the time they do, the emotional payoff is worth the wait.
I also want to note how rare it is to find a book where the side characters shine just as brightly as the protagonists. Sure, Sybil and Rory are the ones who carry the story, but in The Knight and the Moth, we have a supporting cast that’s every bit as unforgettable. Maude, an older knight who serves as both mentor and near-maternal figure to Benedict and Rory, steals every scene she’s in with her quiet competence and unwavering composure—grace that she even extends to Sybil. On his part, Benedict, or Benji to his friends, reveals he is so much more than his youth, displaying surprising depth while he struggles to live up to a crown he barely understands. And then there’s the gargoyle, Sybil’s childlike guardian who follows her from the cathedral and becomes equal parts comic relief and emotional anchor. Together, this group of characters create a rich network of relationships that elevate this novel far beyond a simple romantasy.
In sum, what a huge difference from my first run with Rachel Gillig! Where One Dark Window gave me the impression of stumbling around in the dark, The Knight and the Moth felt more like a confident step forward. Featuring themes that were more focused, characters who were more grounded, and a more memorable story overall, the book managed to balance atmosphere, mystery, and heart without losing its way. For readers who enjoy slow-burn character arcs and layered world-building with just a touch of gothic romance, this is an easy recommendation. I’m genuinely excited to see where this series goes next.
Book Review: The Devils by Joe Abercrombie
Posted on May 20, 2025 21 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: Fantasy
Series: Book 1 of The Devils
Publisher: Tor Books | Macmillan Audio (May 13, 2025)
Length: 576 pages
Author Information: Website | Twitter
I feel like I read a different book than everyone else. Despite the raving reviews for Joe Abercrombie’s The Devils, I personally walked away with far more fixed feelings than I expected. Don’t get me wrong—there’s plenty to admire in this irreverent dark fantasy adventure, and as a longtime fan of the author, I was happy with the colorful cast of memorable characters and the gloriously brutal action. That said, something didn’t quite click in place for me. As folks tend to say, I liked it, but I didn’t love it.
Set in an alternate version of what feels like medieval Europe, the book opens on a politically tumultuous time. Brother Diaz is a devout yet somewhat sheltered monk who suddenly finds himself appointed to lead the Chapel of Holy Expediency, a secret taskforce comprised of convicted supernatural beings bound to serve the Church whenever their special talents are required. And right now is one of those times. The mission? A young street urchin named Alex, believed to be the long-lost heir to the throne of Troy, must be safely escorted across a war-torn landscape to her rightful place as Empress so she can unite the fractured church before the whole world burns down around them.
The crew of condemned misfits include Jakob, a centuries-old immortal driven by a stoic dedication to the task at hand; Sunny, a mild-mannered elf whose people may be waging a war against the empire, yet manages to remain hopeful in a world that fears her kind; Vigga, a fierce and uninhibited werewolf whose volatile nature makes her both the muscle and the loose cannon on the team; Baron Rikard, an ancient vampire whose taste for decorum never fails to add a touch of civility even as the group storms its way across the continent, leaving chao in their wake; Baptiste, a slick rogue with a jack-of-all-trades skillset, bringing versatility to whatever task needs doing; and Bathazar, a cantankerous necromancer who can get on everyone’s nerves, but whose deep knowledge of all things arcane proves nothing short of invaluable.
Let’s start with what worked for me, because to be fair there was plenty. First, in true Abercrombie fashion, the characters here were all fantastic and delightfully over-the-top, with group dynamics clearly mirroring the key roles in a heist crew. What makes it even better is that each member draws inspiration from classic horror archetypes, which is especially obvious when it comes to characters like Vigga and her impulse control issues, or the very gentlemanly Baron Rikard. Each one also brings something unique to the table, whether it’s magic, brute force, or just pure charm.
However, all this does come with a caveat. For although the Devils are arguably the stars of this show, for me it’s the “normies” Alex and Brother Diaz who form the heart and soul of the novel, because they are the only ones not defined by familiar archetypes or playing to expectations. Like many ensemble cast stories, The Devils prioritizes leveraging group dynamics for the sake of punchy banter and gallows humor, glossing over genuine and meaningful character development. Maybe this is simply Abercrombie trying new things, and I certainly don’t begrudge him for it, but this shift is noticeably different from his earlier works like The First Law trilogy.
I was also slightly underwhelmed with the book’s middle section. While the first few chapters blew me away with a near-perfect introduction into our characters, the conflict, and the quest, this momentum proved unsustainable. The pacing began to lag, making it feel as though the story was treading water as it saved the best it had to offer for climax and conclusion. Granted, character interactions kept things engaging, but there was no longer that sense of urgency or excitement which fueled the opening act. Perhaps what the plot needed was more engaging side quests, but instead it relied too heavily upon snappy dialogue and kinetic action to carry it through to the final stretch. Paradoxically, even though Abercrombie is still the king when it comes to writing tight, brutal, heart pounding and adrenaline pumping battle sequences, the more of them we got, the more the pacing felt largely static.
In the end, The Devils is an entertaining ride, delivering an action-packed fantasy romp with a killer cast of characters and Joe Abercrombie’s signature dark, sardonic wit. It’s undeniably entertaining, and I admire the author’s willingness to cut loose—after all, this is easily the most popcorny book I’ve read from him yet. However, even after the explosive, mayhem-filled finale, I still found myself curiously ambivalent, my feelings tempered by issues like unbalanced pacing and an inability to invest in the story emotionally. Bottom line, this is by no means a bad book, but ultimately, it also wasn’t quite what I thought I was signing up for.
Book Review: Eat the Ones You Love by Sarah Maria Griffin
Posted on May 14, 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.
Eat the Ones You Love by Sarah Maria Griffin
Mogsy’s Rating: 3 of 5 stars
Genre: Horror
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Tor Books | Macmillan Audio (April 22, 2025)
Length: 288 pages
Author Information: Website | Twitter
Lately, I seem to be coming up on a lot of books that start strong, only to fizzle out halfway through and become something of a slog to finish. Eat the Ones You Love by Sarah Maria Griffin is the latest to fall into this category. While I still enjoyed myself, finishing this one took more effort than I expected, especially given its strong start and eerie premise.
As the story begins, we meet the protagonist Shell Pine who has found herself at a personal low point following a devastating job loss and a breakup with her long-time partner. Now she is back in her hometown, living with her parents. Desperate for work, she impulsively enters a flower shop in the rundown shopping mall nearby and asks about the HELP NEEDED sign in the window. Immediately, she senses a connection with the florist Neve, a young woman whose charismatic aura captures her attention. And just like that, Shell is invited back tomorrow morning to help open the shop and learn the ropes.
But suddenly, we are introduced to a new voice. For you see, Neve is harboring a terrible secret, one with deep ties to the history of the crumbling mall and its central terrarium where a strange, sentient entity resides. Not just a plant, it is also a predator, and Neve is more than its caregiver. Where its roots grow, it knows all. And it has seen Shell, the way she is drawn to Neve, and now it wants her too.
My summary might be vague, but anything more I really don’t want to give away because most of my enjoyment came from unraveling the rest of the story’s mysteries. Eat the Ones You Love is a horror novel, but it is also an unconventional one in that most of its genre elements are more suggestive than shocking, edging ever so slightly into body horror but primarily dealing with psychological dread. And how can you not love an antagonist that is a homicidal sentient plant? A fascinating creation driven by unrelenting hunger, it also has an unhealthy obsession with Neve, who calls it her “baby.” But of course, of all the POVs in this book, the plant’s had to be my favorite, not only because it was so unique but also because of how convinced I was of its danger and menace.
That said, as I alluded to above, the book does lose some of its bite in the middle. As Shell settles into her new job and becomes accepted into a social group made up of other workers at the mall, the overall plot’s movement stalls to explore these friendships. Pretty soon, the focus is shifting to day-to-day workplace shenanigans and interpersonal drama and mall politics. Maybe the author’s original intent was to add depth to the world and build up the layers of context around the characters, but after a while, it just felt like a lot of filler to me. More than once, I found myself wishing we could get back to the horror story. In the end, learning about who’s sleeping with whom was simply not as interesting as the only relationship that mattered to me—the one between Neve and her parasitic plant baby.
Ultimately, Eat the Ones You Love is an ambitious novel, and unapologetically weird in all the right ways without being too over-the-top to stay in my wheelhouse. I’ve long thought killer plants and the horror genre go hand-in-hand, and Sarah Maria Griffin taps into that rich tradition with flair and originality. Beyond that, the story also weaves together various themes that feel like a perfect fit, like the bleakness of messy relationships and dying shopping malls.
But I have to say, the book’s biggest shortcoming lies in its lack of story balance leading to uneven pacing. Human drama often got in the way of the author’s painstakingly crafted horror narrative, diluting the creepy tension built through the unsettling voice of the plant creature. To be honest, I could have used a bit more suspense, a little more of that fear factor. That said, for fans of slow-burn horror and character-driven stories grounded by a rich and offbeat premise, it’s probably worth a look.
Book Review: Shield of Sparrows by Devney Perry
Posted on May 12, 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.
Shield of Sparrows by Devney Perry
Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars
Genre: Romance, Fantasy
Series: Book 1
Publisher: Red Tower Books (May 6, 2025)
Length: 528 pages
Author Information: Website | Twitter
The romantasy genre is more crowded than ever these days, so whenever one stands out, I tend to take notice! While a novel like Shield of Sparrows by Devney Perry may follow a familiar blueprint, it manages to execute it with enough style and panache to feel instantly recognizable but not stale. To my delight, I had a great time with it.
The book follows Princess Odessa, the eldest daughter of the king of Quentis who has spent most of her life in the shadow of her younger half-sister. After all, it is Mae who is the favored child, the one promised to the prince of neighboring Turah, and the one carefully trained to become a spy and uncover the rival kingdom’s deepest secrets. However, when the time finally comes to seal the alliance through marriage, the Turan prince Zavier unexpectedly invokes an ancient rite that allows him to choose Odessa as his bride instead, much to everyone’s surprise.
And thus, with little warning, our protagonist is shipped off to a foreign land alongside her new husband and his loyal soldier, known only as the Guardian. Tasked with furthering her father’s political agenda, Odessa must quickly learn to navigate the unfamiliar ways of the Turan court if she is to one day become their queen, except this is proving far more difficult and treacherous than she ever imagined. While Prince Zavier remains distant and tightlipped about the problems plaguing his kingdom, monsters stalk the wilds and prey on his people, and a mysterious illness spreading across Turah is corrupting everything it touches. At the heart of it all stands the enigmatic Guardian, bound to protect the royal couple yet is shrouded in secrets of his own. Although his insufferable personality constantly frustrates Odessa, it appears that their paths—and perhaps even their destinies—may be inextricably linked.
Through all of this, the main character’s journey gives readers a fast-paced entry into the fantasy world of Shield of Sparrows. Rather than packing her prose with exposition, Perry lets us explore the magic of it on our own, discovering a wondrous landscape featuring mythical beasts and layers of rich history. While the slow trickle of information can sometimes make you feel impatient, the steady ramp up is well worth it in the end as it leads to a result that is both epic and cinematic.
But of course, what everyone wants to know is, how is the romance? I have to say, the character work is where this novel is strongest. First, we have Odessa, a heroine who is initially perceived as unassuming and weak, but her growth over the course of the story is realistic and tangible. Similarly, the book’s romantic arc, which ultimately ends up being between her and the Guardian, is very well written and deliciously paced—no frivolous claims of being slow-burn in the publisher description only to end up being insta-love, thank goodness. Their love story is one that unfolds through sharp dialogue and moments of mutual vulnerability, but the drama never feels intrusive, nor does it ever overwhelm the conflicts that drive the main plot. Sure, there’s still plenty of manufactured angst stemming from dumb reasons like miscommunication and the deliberate withholding of truth, but at least we got a few genuine twists and surprises out of it.
That said, in terms of storytelling, Shield of Sparrows is in no way reinventing the wheel. Still, there are sufficient emotional beats to keep things entertaining and fresh, with thrills frequently injected in the form of monster attacks and court intrigue. Plus, Odessa’s unique experiences in Turah alone are enough to give this story its staying power, not to mention the evolving relationships she builds along the way. Admittedly, the pacing could have used some tweaking, particularly the middle section where the plot meandered and momentum faltered, or the ending where things went the other direction and became pure pandemonium in an instant. Ultimately though, these are relatively minor quibbles.
In short, Shield of Sparrows might not break new romantasy ground, but it doesn’t have to. Genre fans will be happy that it hits all the right notes and provides plenty of reasons to crave the next book. The ending left me reeling, and after all that chaos, I’m going to need some answers.
Audiobook Review: The Maid’s Secret by Nita Prose
Posted on May 9, 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.
The Maid’s Secret by Nita Prose
Mogsy’s Rating (Overall): 4 of 5 stars
Genre: Mystery
Series: Book 3 of Molly the Maid
Publisher: Random House Audio (April 8, 2025)
Length: 11 hrs and 3 mins
Author Information: Website
I’ve been following the Molly the Maid series since The Maid which first introduced its unforgettable protagonist to readers, so it is with a mix of warmth and bittersweetness that I approached The Maid’s Secret. Although I can’t say with a hundred percent certainty, judging by the emotionally satisfying conclusion and the way everything seemed to be neatly tied up, I suspect this may very well be Molly Gray’s last case.
This time around, life is looking up for Molly. In The Mistletoe Mystery novella published shortly before this novel, her boyfriend Juan Manuel proposed so now the couple is joyfully preparing for their upcoming wedding. But holding dual roles as Head Maid and Special Events Manager at the Regency Grand also means Molly is kept quite busy, especially when an upcoming episode of the popular antique appraisal series Hidden Treasures is set to be filmed at the hotel. When the show’s charismatic hosts, Brown and Beagle, invite the staff to take part in the event, Molly decides to throw together a few of her late grandmother’s keepsakes in a simple shoebox to bring along.
Much to everyone’s surprise, a sparkly bejeweled egg among Gran’s old possessions turns out to be a priceless Fabergé prototype. Announced in front of a live audience, the news catapults Molly into the spotlight and turns her into an overnight celebrity. With the egg’s value appraised at millions of dollars, she also suddenly finds herself fielding questions about whether she will sell it and what she might do with the fortune if she does. After all, with that much money, she and Juan Manuel would be able to have the wedding of their dreams, not to mention financial stability for the rest of their lives. But just as things seem too good to be true, the egg is stolen in a brazen heist, and Molly finds herself embroiled in another high-profile mystery.
As it turns out, the only clues as to who stole the priceless heirloom may lie in a newly discovered diary written by Gran, whose secret past as a wealthy young heiress ends up being the key to everything. The end result is a novel created by two separate, alternating narratives: one that follows Molly’s present-day investigation, and another that reveals Gran’s coming-of-age tale as young Flora Gray.
This dual timeline structure adds a deeper layer of emotional resonance to The Maid’s Secret by exploring the protagonist’s family legacy, thus making it far more complex than its predecessors beyond just a simple whodunit. While the cozy charm of the Regency Grand still grounds this story, Gran now shares the spotlight with Molly through her diary entries, which are addressed to her beloved granddaughter. These chapters add a historical touch and no small amount of nostalgia as they unfold with poignant drama, chronicling Flora’s struggles against her cold, controlling parents. Determined to secure their daughter’s future with a marriage into another wealthy family, they are blindsided when Flora chooses to follow her heart instead, engaging in a forbidden romance with a servant’s son.
Inevitably though, the focus is shifted away from Molly and her friends and colleagues in the present, which may disappoint readers who were expecting more from the tightly knit Regency Grand group. Young Gran’s chapters feel like a world away in comparison, and if you came to this book for more Molly, this unexpected turn of events might feel a bit like a bait-and-switch. Nevertheless, Flora’s past provides essential context for the furor surrounding the central mystery regarding the stolen Fabergé, and personally I found her backstory fascinating. As someone who has always loved the sweet, heartwarming nature of the relationship between Molly and Gran, I felt that the latter’s diary entries managed to bring the series full circle with beautiful purpose.
To sum it all up, if The Maid’s Secret is indeed the series’ finale, in my opinion you couldn’t ask for a more fitting conclusion. Molly remains a singular and beloved character who has grown so much over the last three novels, and I had fun watching every moment of her journey. The stories in these books might not be the most thrilling or unpredictable, but they are warm and comfortable and uplifting, like a favorite sweater or a hot cup of tea on a chilly day. A well-deserved round of applause also goes to Lauren Ambrose for her impeccable work as narrator on these audiobooks. Listening to this whole series has been an absolute joy.
More on The BiblioSanctum:
Review of The Maid (Book 1)
Review of The Mystery Guest (Book 2)
Review of The Mistletoe Mystery (Book 2.5)
Book Review: When the Moon Hits Your Eye by John Scalzi
Posted on May 6, 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.
When the Moon Hits Your Eye by John Scalzi
Mogsy’s Rating: 2.5 of 5 stars
Genre: Science Fiction, Humor
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Tor Books (March 25, 2025)
Length: 326 pages
Author Information: Website
I kind of miss when John Scalzi wrote more cerebral books. Or at least stories with some real substance, like Old Man’s War, Lock In, or even his Dispatcher series of novellas. Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy his humor, but lately his novels have started to feel more like idea sprints than anything fully developed—just throwing ideas at the wall to see what sticks. While it’s an approach that can sometimes be fun (for example, The Kaiju Preservation Society and Starter Villain both had their charms), it’s also starting to wear thin. When the Moon Hits Your Eye is the latest in this trend, delivering an off-the-wall premise with a snappy title and lots of quirk, but unfortunately not much else.
The plot of this book—such as it is—centers on an absurd astronomical event. The moon has inexplicably turned into cheese! Literally! Overnight, the world is thrown into disbelief and various degrees of panic. As governments scramble to respond, experts of all stripes start coming out of the woodwork to weigh in while the conspiracy theorists have themselves a field day. Meanwhile, ordinary folk are left helpless to parse all the noise by themselves, trying to make sense of it all.
And yet, what else is there to do? Life must go on. What follows is a series of chapters focusing on how different people from all walks of life react to the sudden lunar transformation. There are politicians and preachers, authors and screenwriters, billionaires and astronauts, and of course, everyday citizens just going with the flow in an attempt to hold on to whatever normalcy is left. Hence, the result is less of a genuine cohesive story and more of a patchwork of little vignettes, chronicling life in the United States in the time following the cheesification of the moon.
Right away, you can probably guess the downside to this narrative structure. While Scalzi’s intent appears to have been to capture a broad view of humanity’s response, what you end up with is a constant shifting of context and perspective jumps that make it very hard to connect with any of the characters or care about their situation. Some of these people are with us only very briefly, never to be heard from again as the story progresses. Those who do recur do not do so enough to act like anchors in all the chaos. Instead, readers are tossed this way and that like in a storm, with nothing concrete to hold on to.
The entire novel is also built on a premise whose potential for humor is limited and whose momentum is unsustainable. So, the moon turns into cheese, oh cool, ha ha! It’s a novelty that lasted for about five minutes, quickly becoming a tired joke that is laboriously stretched over a few hundred pages. What should have been a quick read instead took me much longer. At a certain point, I had just about enough of the book’s smugness over how clever it thinks it is. I mean, how much torture is one expected to take with the endless parade of groan-inducing cheese puns and juvenile wink-wink-nudge-nudge dialogue? What started as mildly funny quickly became irritating, especially as the novel constantly patted itself on the back even though it rarely provided anything insightful.
Granted, I am probably being harsher than I need to be. To the book’s credit, some chapters do casually wade into deeper themes of grief, mortality, and the fragile nature of human civilization in the face of catastrophe, even if the exploration is surface-level and often undermined by the writing’s tendency for glibness. And yes, there were some laugh-worthy moments here and there. For better or worse, Scalzi’s trademark voice is ever present, and in small doses, I admit it can be fun.
However, the main issue with this book is the way it always seems to be getting close to saying something important, but then backs off at the last moment, never fully committing. And so, what you end up with is mostly fluff but not the right kind for me. Bottom line, I think When the Moon Hits Your Eye would have worked much better as a novella or a proper collection of short stories. As it is, the novel overreaches and tries to be more than what its structure can maintain, so what started off as quirky and cute ends up being awkward and cringe like a joke that fizzles out.
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