This Frankenstein-inspired YA horror romance that had me clutching my Pedro Pascal throw blanket, and occasionally side-eyeing some mortuary details like the picky mortician I am. It’s creepy, and just a smidge frustrating in the most lovable way.

Meka works at her family’s funeral home, and I’m already geeking out. The book mentions little tidbits like Dryene/eyecaps/Lanol Care, and my mortician brain went, “Ooh, are we going full mortuary science nerd here?” But then, two minutes later, I see “coffin,” and I’m like, “Hold up, Kalynn, six-sided coffins are so 1800s.” (We primarily use caskets in the US. Not the same thing. Cue The more you know gif). I know, I know, most readers probably don’t care or know the difference, but I’m over here clutching my Trocar like, “Who’s gonna tell her?” It’s probably the feeling healthcare workers get watching Grey’s Anatomy or any other hospital drama. Still, Meka’s vibe is pure Tim Burton heroine… gritty yet soft, especially with her boyfriend, Noah, who’s so chill about her corpse-adjacent life I was ready to bake him cookies.

The plot slams into high gear when a tragedy rocks Meka to her core. It’s a gut-punch that left me stress-eating twizzlers. Suddenly, Meka’s world is a haunted house: ravens circling her home like goth party crashers, sketchy strangers stalking her, and… well… the dead not STAYING dead. Bayron’s atmosphere is foggy graveyards, and that prickly “someone’s watching me” vibe. 

The Frankenstein twist? I’m obsessed. It’s clever. It’s not just a retelling; it’s a glow-up of the classic, with themes of love and loss that hit right in the feels. I may have teared up while clutching my tissue box like it was Noah himself.

But, okay, time for some snark. The pacing’s like my attempt at jogging—starts strong, then wheezes in the middle. Meka’s moping for a bit, and I’m like, “Girl, I get it, life’s rough, but let’s get this sh*t into gear!” Also, the term “dead body” kept throwing me out of the story. As a mortician, I’m trained to say “decedent” to keep things respectful—nobody wants to hear their loved one called a “dead body.” Every time it popped up, I was like, “Kalynn, why you gotta do me like this?” It’s probably not a big deal for non-morticians, but it’s like nails on a chalkboard for me. And some side characters—like those creepy strangers—felt like they showed up for a cameo and got cut before the good scenes. I wanted more from them.

This book’s a sparkly, spooky delight that made my imagination do cartwheels, but it’s not QUITE a perfect casket—er, I mean, masterpiece. The mortuary nitpicks and pacing hiccups held it back, but Bayron’s storytelling is so slay. It’s like a killer Halloween party with amazing punch but slightly stale snacks. If you love horror with a side of romance, creepy vibes, and a heroine you’d totally grab coffee with, Make Me a Monster is your vibe. Read it with the lights on, maybe with a cute playlist to balance the spooks.