Rhiannon

This short, merciless little novelette of pregnancy horror laced with cosmic dread surprised me. Not because of the plot, or the inventiveness of Huff’s writing, but because I wasn’t actually expecting such a brutal emotional punch.

I should know better by now, because Huff always manages to sneak emotional gravitas into the most gruesome of stories, and I went into this short story thinking it was going to be a quick, fun, crazy story but somehow turned into something so much more impactful. How did that happen in a mere 60 pages? The crushing, slow-motion loss of an unborn child affected me in a way that I’m almost mad about (because I honestly have always abhorred the idea of childbirth and motherhood, so it’s never been something I feel emotionally connected to).

I’ve loved Huff’s writing for their wild, inventive and subversive style, populated with a healthy dose of terribly flawed characters with emotional depth. Yet somehow, they always manage to surprise me in unexpected ways. And this was no exception.

I really enjoyed this unique and fully engaging reimaging of the Cinderella fable. It comes at it from the POV of the ‘evil’ stepmother as she and her daughters (and stepdaughter) suffer bad luck, misfortune, and worse.

Etheldreda had a contented life when tragedy struck and left her and her two young daughters adrift without support and under threat of being separated. When Ethel remarries to save her family, she thinks she has found a happy medium with her tolerable second husband and his aloof, pompous and prim stepdaughter who has been raised to believe she is of much better quality than those around her.

But then that second marriage is doomed as well, and Ethel finds herself nearly destitute and responsible for not just her own children, but her stepdaughter as well, who refuses to contribute to their survival. As she scrabbles to provide safety and stability for her daughters and stepdaughter with misfortune shadowing her every move, a sudden fortuitous opportunity arises for the young ladies to be debuted at a Royal ball. Ethel is determined to do everything she can to ensure they all have a fair shot at it.

The drama amps up as a possible royal marriage may not be all that beneficial, as Ethel is tied to the current queen with an unfortunate history and knowledge of royal secrets that must not be discovered. Ethel is torn between a future of security for her daughters and the monstrous secrets they will be forced to keep to hold on to that future.

I loved the strong fierce, female lead of Ethel – all the female characters were compelling and fully realised, really – as the author has ensured they are all complex, imperfect creatures trying to survive in a world that favours men and consistently treats women as chattel to be married off. None of them are perfect, and all, even the minor ones, are multi-dimensional.

The prose was dramatic and well done with beautifully rendered settings and the compelling plot didn’t have a single boring moment. And while I was content with how the family eventually makes out, the ending was perhaps just a little too neat and tidy after all that transpires (without giving away spoilers here.)

Overall, a strong, engaging read of female strength, family, loyalty and resilience that turns the old fable into a rich, immersive tale. A fantastic debut from an author that I will want to read more of!

My thanks to NetGalley and St. Martins Press for the ARC. I am leaving this review voluntarily and all opinions are my own.

𝑭𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒚 10, 2026 𝑬𝒅𝒊𝒕: 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍, 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑨𝑰 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰'𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔. 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒂 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒂𝒈𝒐, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒆. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒚 𝒘𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒘𝒔 𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍...

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The ending was a bit of a conflict for me - there was beauty and bloody brutality mixed in, but then there was also a surprise element right at the end that I found off-putting and unnecessary.

My thanks to Galaxy Press, Victory Editing and NetGalley for the advance copy.

I see why some might say this is extreme horror, and it is! But I thought it was more of a body horror posing as a commentary on horror in ultra-masculinity. Although the violence is incredibly brutal and absolutely ramps into the extreme category, it was also more grounded in gritty reality than mere shock value when compared to traditional extreme or splatterpunk.

The first third is spent setting up the distinct main characters – we have a cop, a mafioso boss, a scientist testing new drugs and an already supremely angry, roided out dude who gets amped to the nth degree by those experimental drugs and is now running loose through the mean streets of Chicago. The characters are all pretty much men with the female roles seemingly secondary and are mentioned tangentially or as victims of the violence inflicted. It feels like this was a deliberate choice made by the author?

Despite this, I thought Wagner’s setup of the main cast was well thought out and gave me enough to be interested in them and how they would all come together in the plot. There’s a lot of commentary on male masculine behaviour and traits, with some developing or ruminating in interesting ways and others maybe not so much?

This will sound odd, but it was almost like reading a classic Greek epic through the lens of our action-packed, ultra-violent modern time. In fact, the main villain of the piece frequently refers to himself as a god. This is also emphasized by the choice of Roberto Ferri’s excellent “Ecate” as the cover. Vengeance and hubris, extreme violence and tragedy abound in both the classical Greek era and our own current age.

An entertaining, fast-moving novel that kept me hooked right to the end.

My thanks to NetGalley and Dead Sky Publishing for the ARC. I am leaving this review voluntarily and all opinions are my own.