discarded_dust_jacket's reviews
274 reviews

Thank you CLC for this eARC!

I’m gonna be so honest, I usually struggle with anthologies. Something about feeling suspended in the first stage of a story, which is the hardest part for me to get invested in—the part where you have to get acclimated to a new setting and new characters.

This was definitely an exception. I don’t think there was a single story I didn’t enjoy, even if I enjoyed some more than others.

The theme was cohesive but the way each author interpreted it was unique and interesting. There’s a couple contributors who I was less familiar with, but I will definitely be seeking out their other stuff now!

This was only my second extreme horror novel, and I’m still not sure this genre is for me, but let me just say: despite this being some of the most disturbing, grotesque content I’ve ever consumed with my eyes, the PROSE !!! the MASTERY OF CRAFT !!! the way I was both REPULSED but also HYPNOTIZED !!! 

No words were wasted; this novel wields some of the most precise and deeply evocative language I’ve ever read. Relentlessly brutal, beginning to end. Truly visceral. I have a feeling I’m going to be thinking about these characters for a long time.

(**TAKE THE CWs SERIOUSLY, especially incest, pedophilia, excrement, vomit, and cannibalism**)

A simple and well-written trans horror erotica. The premise is unique and engaging, the suspense is cultivated really well and kept me rushing to turn the page.

I absolutely think it accomplishes what it set out to and I enjoyed it a lot, but please, for the love of god, take the CWs seriously.

I would say if you’re on the fence about any of them, this isn’t the one for you.

MAJOR CWs for: non-con, gang-r*pe, DP, DVP, TP, and just overall violence.

Misogyny is dripping from this book. There isn’t a single meaningful female character aside from the protagonist.

The plot itself takes place within the context of a competition wherein a bunch of women vie for the attention of one man, so I understand the need to set some other woman in the story up as “rivals.”

But you’re telling me there’s no other women in the town? NONE that are kind? NONE that have depth? The author doesn’t even bother to give most of them names; a lot of them are just mentioned in passing for the sake of insulting them.

Tem’s best friend is the stereotypical, sassy gay man, because, you know, that makes him safe! She doesn’t view him as competition!

The MC’s only personality trait is that she’s stubborn and argumentative. That’s it. She fights everyone about everything. There’s literally a point when Leo compliments her by saying “you look beautiful by the way,” and she goes “by the way? Is my beauty an afterthought to you?” Like girlfriend aren’t you tired? I’M tired.

Caspen provides us with a textbook example of what the cycle of abuse can look like: he smothers Tem with love and adoration while they’re together, all the while secretly manipulating and controlling her by withholding information from her and making decisions on her behalf (but it’s okay because he’s protecting her). He surveils her when they’re apart and punishes her if she does something to make him jealous. When she confronts him, he’s sweet again and she second guesses her own anger.

Leo’s character is incredibly underdeveloped. Tem hardly spends any time with him compared to Caspen. She spends like 60% of the book having sex with Caspen and goes on approximately five dates with Leo and yet we’re supposed to believe that she’s in love with them both equally and just cannot choose between the two?

The plot makes very little sense if you spend more than a second thinking about it. The last fifty pages or so are haphazardly thrown together; it’s obvious the author was just tired of writing and needed to wrap it up quick. 

If I had to guess, I’d say that is the thesis of this novel. At least, I can see how it tried to be.

These characters felt absurdly disembodied. For instance, I can’t recall if the MC’s appearance was ever explicitly described. I had no idea what she looked like, aside from being “above-average pretty.” 

Even the sexual intimacy felt detached from the characters’ bodies somehow. There is (allegedly) a frantic, desperate lust undergirding each rendezvous, but I wasn’t actually sensing any of that in the text, just told it was there. It all read as very… dry, almost clinical. No sensory details to ground the scene in the tangible world. Just some quick staging.

Also there was no character depth. Nothing made me want to care about these people. There’s such minimal exposition; it just begins and then it’s PLOT PLOT PLOT, and we’re expected to be instantly invested without really knowing who they are or why we should care.

Additionally, there are no real meaningful side characters, no friends (the other contestants occasionally have moments of depth, but they’re brief), the MC’s family get like, one and a half scenes on-page. It’s just so… sparse and soulless.

Lastly, the romance is bizarre and unbelievable. During their first conversation they’re already speaking to one another as if  they have some deep bond, but then every conversation after is manipulative and combative and I kept wondering “wait so do they actually like one another?” 

I understand what the author was trying to do, I think, but it just wasn’t executed successfully at all.

Absolutely wrong with it! This book is beautifully-written! I just got distracted by all the other books I was reading and the library loan expired, so I’ll come back to it. 🫶🏻

One thing I will say that I really appreciate about this series is that it subverts a lot of the tropes that have become ubiquitous within the monster romance sub-genre. (That was more the case with the first book—which featured a submissive MMC and a soft femdom FMC with vaginismus who wasn’t interested in penetrative sex—but the sentiment is still present here.)

Lily Mayne’s choice to make the Demiurgus biology incompatible with humans, has created a world in which other forms of sexual intimacy get explored besides p in v penetration, which I find really admirable. Monster romance, for all the things we love about it, still falls into a lot of the gender essentialist stereotypes of “big, strong man is dominant and aggressive” and “small, dainty woman is submissive and weak.” Depicting an MMC who enthusiastically enjoys wearing a strap on over a c*ck cage in order to top his partner safely, and doesn’t view it as some threat to his “manhood” is really refreshing.

The only reason I gave this book such a low rating is because of how overwritten it was. The ratio of action/dialogue to interior monologue was wildly disproportionate. The characters’ thoughts would go on these droning tangents that lasted whole pages and weren’t necessary almost 100% of the time.

Authors: if you’ve done an adequate job of establishing your characters and providing situational context, trust that your audience can often infer their thoughts and emotions, without having them spelled out in soporific detail.

Something that I think contributes to the problem is that a lot of these stories don’t include strong supporting characters—people the MCs can work through their problems with in scenes that involve action and dialogue—so what we get instead are long sequences of internal turmoil propelled by self-directed leading questions.

An example would be, say the heroine of a story has romantic feelings for a coworker but doesn’t want to jeopardize their professional relationship. Her interior monologue in this case might sound like: “These feelings are becoming a nuisance. When did I start noticing how well his shirts fit his broad shoulders? Has his mouth always formed that single, adorable dimple when he smirks? It doesn’t matter; nothing can happen between us. But why not? What’s the worst that could come of it? Oh, you know, just the possibility that we could lose our jobs. No big deal. Or things could end badly and then working together would be tense and awkward. Would it really be so bad if we gave it a shot?” and on and on.

Now, in this story, Nuni did have Laki, who he called whenever he was working through something, but for some reason, even after those conversations, the reader would be subjected to additional, redundant interior monologue afterwards. At some point, I just started skimming.

I know that the beginning of P&P is meant to lean into the characters’ flaws, but I found both protagonists to be deeply unlikeable and it made it hard to want to watch them fall in love.

I also thought it was overwritten. For every piece of dialogue or action, it felt like there was a disproportionate amount of internal exposition, which made it feel like a chore to push through.

And lastly, I wasn’t comfortable with this story involving the manipulation or coercion of a terminally ill person into undergoing treatment they are unwilling to, even if it means saving their life. When Trisha remarks to her boss that since her patients didn’t go through medical school like her, they aren’t properly equipped to make decisions about their own treatment, it made me viscerally angry. And maybe her gross opinions about her patients’ bodily autonomy are meant to be something that change as the story progresses—like maybe that’s how she grows as a character—but it still didn’t sit right with me, and I didn’t want to continue.