Where do I even start with this deliciously creepy, folk-horror gem? It’s like stumbling into a haunted forest with a gorgeous guide who whispers, “Don’t worry, it’s only mostly terrifying.” It had me hooked, spooked, and swooning, though it didn’t quite rip my heart out and carve it into a ritualistic bone totem. But, like, it came close.

First off, let’s talk about the vibes. Picture yourself in a misty, isolated village where the trees loom like they’re plotting your demise, and the air smells of damp earth, woodsmoke, rot, and secrets so old they’ve fossilized. Russell’s prose is like a velvet glove wrapped around a dagger: lush, poetic, and sharp enough to make you flinch. The story follows Hyacinth Turning, a heroine who’s a defiant spitfire while also being a vulnerable lost soul. She’s not your cookie-cutter “strong female lead” (ugh, that phrase makes my eyes roll). Hyacinth is messy, raw, and so relatable I wanted to hug her through the pages. When she’s shipped off to a creepy seaside settlement after a last minute arranged marriage and her father hanged, you feel her dread, like that time I moved into a sketchy apartment and swore the walls had eyes.

Russell crafts a folk-horror tapestry that’s both nostalgic and nightmarish, like a Grimm fairy tale got a gritty reboot. The Teeth and the Deep are both monstrous entities lurking beyond the village. The rituals, with their bone carving chants (“One for the gate, one for the door…”), gave me actual chills. I mean, I was reading this at 2 a.m., wrapped in a blanket burrito, and I still felt exposed. The Elders in their hare-skin masks? Nope. Hard pass from that culty nonsense. They’re the kind of creepy authority figures who’d make you confess to stealing cookies you didn’t even eat and will hang you or burn you if you look at them wrong. 

Hyacinth’s journey is a wild ride. She’s stuck in this oppressive, witch hunt obsessed community, and her only ally is Morgan, the outcast who’s got that brooding, “I’m trouble but also maybe your soulmate” energy. I dig the bisexual vibes when Hyacinth loves Abelia who haunts her dreams after she disappeared into the Teeth, and now Morgan. (We can always use more bisexuals in fiction!) Russell knows how to tease a slow-burn romance without making it feel like a slog. 

The snark comes in with the villains. Hyacinth’s husband and the Elders are so insufferably sanctimonious, I wanted to yeet them into the Deep myself. They’re the kind of people who’d scold you for wearing mismatched socks while ignoring the literal monsters at their doorstep. Russell nails the hypocrisy of rigid, fear-driven societies, and it’s so satisfying watching Hyacinth flip them the metaphorical bird.

So why not five stars? Okay, confession: the pacing tripped a bit in the middle. There’s a stretch where Hyacinth’s inner turmoil feels like it’s on a loop, and I was like, “Girl, I get it, you’re stressed, let’s move!” Also, while the lore is haunting, I craved a smidge more clarity about the Teeth and the Deep. Are they gods? Demons? Really cranky squid? I’m nosy, and I wanted answers. Still, these are tiny gripes in a book that had me so immersed I skipped sleep to keep reading. Sleep, people. That’s love.

In short, this story is perfect for anyone who loves their fantasy with a side of gothic gloom and a sprinkle of rebellious girl power. L.V. Russell, you’ve got me under your spell, and I’m already counting down to your next book.