I’d been counting down the months like a kid waiting for Christmas, dreaming of a magical romp along the Amalfi Coast, courtesy of Sarah Penner. But when I finally cracked it open, it was less “mind blown” and more “mind mildly ruffled.” It feels like you’re sold a ticket to paradise, but when you arrive, the hotel’s half-built, and the pool’s a puddle. It’s not a disaster, but it’s not the grand escape I’d hyped up in my head either.

Let’s start with the shiny bits. Penner’s got a gift for painting a scene, and the Amalfi Coast in this book is a freaking postcard come to life. We’re talking cliffs kissed by golden sun, waters so blue you’d swear they were photoshopped, and Positano lookinglike a Windows wallpaper that you're not entirely sure it's real and bit some artists rendering. I was ready to ditch my couch for a vespa and a gelato, pronto. The setting’s so lush and vivid it’s practically flirting with you, and I’m here for it. Big props to Penner for making me smell the lemons and feel the sea breeze through words alone.

Now, the plot? It wanders like a drunk Nonna. We’ve got two timelines: a coven of sea witches in the 1800s and a modern-day archaeologist digging up trouble. Sounds cool, right? It could’ve been a wild ride, but instead, it’s like following a GPS that keeps rerouting mid-sentence. The jumps between past and present gave me whiplash, and not the fun kind. I wanted a tight, twisty tale, but this felt more like a scenic detour that forgot where it parked the main point.

Characters are where it gets dicey. Mari, the 1800s sea witch, is a total badass. She’s slinging spells, wrestling with love versus duty, and making me root for her like she’s my long-lost sister. Her story’s got grit and heart, and I’d read a whole book just about her. Then there’s Haven, our modern archaeologist, who’s… fine, I guess? She’s chasing treasure and smooching some dude named Enzo, but it’s about as thrilling as watching paint dry on a yacht. Haven’s got all the potential of a sparkler but ends up fizzling out like a damp match. I wanted fireworks, not a flicker.

The magic system, stregheria (aka oceanic witchcraft), had me intrigued. I mean, witches channeling the sea? Sign me up! But it’s like Penner handed me a shiny new toy and then forgot to include the batteries. It’s there, it’s cool in theory, but it never really pops. Same goes for the titular curse’s mystery: it feels like a cheap sweater from Shein and not the cozy knit one it sold you. I was hoping for a spellbinding gut-punch, but I got a gentle tap instead.

All in all, it's just.... Okay. It’s got a killer setting and a few shining moments (shoutout to Mari), but the plot’s a bit of a stumble, and the magic doesn’t quite enchant. It’s like a weekend getaway that’s fun but forgettable, not the epic odyssey I’d been daydreaming about for months. If you’re into historical fiction with a sprinkle of magic and a killer backdrop, give it a whirl. Just don’t expect it to be the literary equivalent of Nonna’s secret sauce. Pack light, enjoy the view, and call it a day.