I received a Netgalley ARC. This review is my honest opinion.
Three sisters, the oldest on the cusp of adulthood, are lured into an abandoned house. On some level they never leave, and their connection to one another is damaged.
This is my third Katrina Monroe book, and definitely my favorite. I love that her wheelhouse is the lives of women, their relationship with one another, and this one hit exactly right. Which is ironic since I'm an only child.
The story concerns, among other things, the deaths of family members, one quite young. There's a lot of talk about darkness, and the darkness is a metaphor inner darkness and depression. One of the sisters has OCD. Self-harm is definitely on the menu for multiple characters. Extreme self harm. Gun violence. A pervading sense of guilt and regret.
The timeline alternates between the past and the present day, which is really effective. I know I wanted to step in and, well, help, fix, prevent.
This being a story about sisters, it's also a story about sisterhood. In the very earliest timeline we see them as a close unit. The oldest sister is making a point of hanging out with her other sisters, who are a fair amount younger, and -- well -- she has her reasons. A local boy leads them to an abandoned house. The abandoned house has rooms (that come and go) and they're each attracted to a room. They don't tell one another exactly what their room holds, and their relationships and support system weakens.
As a Buffy fan -- but a Joss Whedon hater -- I think of the lyric in the musical: Understand we'll go hand and hand, but we'll walk alone in fear. Tell me, where do you go from here? And I think about how abusers, even if they don't fracture bones, fracture relationships. They isolate. Because you don't want the person or people you're harming to have defenders and a support system.
This is a different book if the sisters had been able to talk, to share secrets, to shine a light. At a glance, it's the house that separated them, but Katrina Monroe makes clear over the course of the narrative that secrets and unmentionable topics predate the 3 sisters walking into the house.
As the cliche goes, you're only as sick as your secrets.
The house is scary, and the rooms in the house are scary, and I like a scary house. The sisters hallucinate a dead character -- or is it a hallucination -- and trust me that that's creepy. And also a fabulous metaphor.
I'm giving the book 4.75 stars because it was creepy and insightful and I get the impression I'll be thinking about it a fair amount. I enjoyed the previous books by the author, but I think she just became an auto-buy.
I'm reviewing a Netgalley copy of this title. My thoughts and opinions are entirely my own.
The premise: 5 friends vow to avenge the death of one of their mothers. They don't dive off the deep end so much as they head for the Mariana Trench, metaphorically. Prayers and spells to gods, spirits, and saints abound. Also, blood and gore and mysteries from the sea.
House of Bones and Rain takes place in Puerto Rico before, during, and in the immediate aftermath of Hurricane Maria. (Maria is also the name of the mother who needs avenging.) The descriptions of PR are intimate, affectionate and scornful by turns in the way you only get when an author loves a place and knows it well. The portions depicting Hurricane Maria, and previous storms and hurricanes, are consuming and I can't imagine a reader who won't imagine what it would be like, and that's before the supernatural elements at play.
I was reminded of the line in The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. Does anyone know where the love of God goes with the waves turn the minutes to hours? While not the same, when the storm is raging it must seem to rage an eternity.
The story wouldn't be the same if it were set in another time or place and a good portion of the book is in the time when the island is almost thrust back to the 19th century and plans have to be changes and altered accordingly.
We primarily follow Gabe, and by far he is the most prominent POV character, with only a few chapters proving an exception. He is loyal to his friends and determined to help his friend, Bimbo, and help avenge her murder not just for Bimbo's sake, but for the sake of the kindnesses she did for him in the wake of the loss of Gabe's father.
The rest of the group is, of course, Bimbo, Xavier, Paul, and Tavo. They've always been there for one another, but they have no idea what they've agreed to take on, and the characters -- and by proxy the reader -- have to constantly decide and re-decide when the situation is too much for even the binds of brotherhood.
What I'm about to type is for knowledge and discussion, and not a criticism since I went into this book knowing it was about a group of men avenging a mother's death and so the macho would be off the charts and the female characters would take a backseat.
But, yeah, the female characters with only a couple exceptions aren't fleshed out and none are fully fleshed out. Well, maybe one. With the exception of one scene, Gabe's mother could have been a mop with a ponytail for all it mattered, with a particularly egregious example toward the end -- which might have been intentional. Mothers are sacred, worth burning the world down for, but you can also put them at risk and forget about them.
The whole premise is a textbook example of "fridging." A woman dies so men can have feelings and do things. In a sense, she is written for this purpose as opposed to be fully fleshed out in her own right. Other women in House of Bone and Rain exist to worry about or to worry about the guys. Occasionally someone shoots them a text.
Here's the thing, I think Gabino Iglesias is aware of most, if not all, of this. It's baked into the cake, and he writes with great insight. These men are on the macho BS, as understandable as it is, and they don't listen to the women in their lives, or speak to them honestly, or involve them. They do endanger them. And there are repercussions, as there should be.
Again, I'm not mad, because it was purposeful and tropes exist because they work, and because I'm finding my women-centered books elsewhere. I'd love to read a gender-swapped version of thus some day, though.
The story has clear supernatural elements, and religious ones, and some scifi. (The scifi aspect wasn't my favorite and just "a lot.") These elements (not you, scifi) were really thought provoking in the same way they were for me in The Devil Takes You Home. We have God, and gods, and saints, and spirits, and Orishas, and the characters pray to them in ways that are both heartfelt and bloodthirsty, which I find fascinating.
And I can't stress enough there's blood and pain and violence and death. Gabe hurts his hand on someone else's face and then does it again. He keeps injuring that hand, but I don't know that he mentioned it to anyone else, certainly never complained.
This is a very good book because the author is a very good writer. The story asks you to question what you believe and what you would do, and when you'd walk away, if ever. It asks the role of belief in your life. There are no punches pulled -- heh -- about the corrosive nature of revenge, comparing it to a drug that destroys your life while making you feel good for "a useless moment."
Janelle attends her sister's destination wedding in Mexico (Tulum.) There's also an additional week to vacation, meaning they're in Tulum 2 weeks. The groom is Janelle's ex. Her family is wrongly convinced she's heartbroken. She connects with one of the groomsmen, Rome.
The story is mostly their secret relationship which is only supposed to last the first vacation week, and then Janelle dealing with her sister -- the bride -- being very demanding and cold toward her. Eventually their mother shows up and that gets folded into the family drama.
Everyone is incredibly successful, although the 2 week destination first class everything kinda speaks for itself.
I really had a good time. I loved Janelle and Rome, and I love the way Rome prioritized Janelle's well-being. He practically sexed her into a coma and then after she passes out he plugs in her phone and slips her bonnet on her. I mean...
Yeah, it's pretty spicy. I'm weirdly bored by sex scenes these days, so when I told you these were good and genuinely sexy, I mean it. I like scenes best when they're an extension of the characters, and Natasha Bishop accomplished that.
The storm on the horizon of major family drama was also so fun and well paced. Thought-provoking too about if there's a limit to forgiving family.
I listened to the audiobook and the narrators (Winston James and J. Shani Michaels) were really good, Winston has a very deep pleasant-to-listen-to voice. J. Shani Michaels also had a great voice and I think a little more range, but they both were excellent picks.
I would read another book by this author in a heartbeat. This is a 4.50 for me.
In a nutshell: I liked it. I loved the setting, which was very effective for the story. I enjoyed Barbara and Tucker, who I would call the main characters. I found the reveals a bit underwhelming and one of the biggest reveals felt really anti-climactic due to the character not being utilized well. I like the cliff-hanger, and would read the sequel, which promises a Minnesota setting. People who use the word woke as an insult will not be pleased. Not sleep with the lights on scary, but steadily creepy.
Let's break it down a little.
Genre: The Gathering straddles the line between horror and suspense/thriller. I found it creepy, and a little gross now and again, but I never worried about sleeping with the lights off. I don't need that, though, as I'm happy to worry about these people and have no skin in the game.
The setting/atmosphere: A remote Alaskan town in winter. A storm is promising to snow everyone in as tensions ratchet. I love this because winter in a snowy location works well for me in horror and thrillers and living in a small town with intense winters allows me to relate. The weather was its own character.
The plot: Barbara Atkins is sent to Deadhart, Alaska to investigate a murder that looks vampire related. Because vampires exist and live in colonies and by law the colonies can be hunted/culled if authorized.
Representation: Sapphic and Achillean. A character is revealed to the reader to be trans late in an interaction . There's a Black character. I don't recall if there's Indigenous rep, other than there a nod to white people settling everything. (I'm sure this isn't exhaustive.)
Conflict: Barbara, with her advanced degree in vampyr studies and tragic history involving vampyrs, wants to investigate this fairly. She is clearly someone who doesn't want to call for a cull, but will if the evidence is there. She's an outsider, though. A stranger. And the town wants that cull. The church leader wants the cull. Most of the town wants the cull. She's outnumbered and the storm is coming.
The characters: Love Barbara, love Tucker, various other characters are nicely done. For a small town, though, we have too many characters, in general, and at least one needless one and down POV chapters. These characters are interesting, but so much of it goes nowhere.
There's a recurring POV character that I feel was introduced very well in order to have this moment of revelation on there being more than meets the eye, leading to a case of "what evil lurks in the heard of men."
We have POVs from a mystery character that I think the reader might be able to figure out their identity. Very interesting, but ultimately ... meh. The character is set up to be a big deal, and just isn't, and it feels like wasted potential. If the series continues, I can see them showing up again, but I find their arc disappointing.
The leader of the colony is an interesting character with an intense backstory, but I think she -- like the character in the previous chapter -- ultimately was under-served. Perhaps she'll show up again.
I will say that if I thought we were returning to Deadhart, my objections about the time we spent on non-important/dead end characters would lessen, but the end hints at a new location should Barbara return.
Themes and metaphors: Vampires and the desire to hunt and cull them is overtly connected to real-world bigotries and prejudices. First and foremost is how the colony is dehumanized, treated like literal animals, and how that in our reality is a precursor to atrocities. Vampyre "artifacts" are collected, their heads mounted on walls, and we're told that's how it is "around here." Barbara knows it's not just around there. There's a symbol that is in terms of metaphor that is connected to a swastika.
Along with bigotry comes objectification. Well, we do have the artifacts to make that literal, but it's also present elsewhere.
We also have themes of and pseudo-pedophilia and acts of extreme torture and cruelty.
While I think this will be tiresome to some readers, and while I think this could cross the line into offensive -- although it's clear the author is writing a story with its heart in the right place -- I'd have actually liked more of a deeper dive, which I expect will be in the next book.
Lingering questions: Who in their right mind strolls into a walk-in freezer while under dressed? Just a stupid decision, an inorganic moment, from a character who is way too smart to do that.
Final Thoughts: This is my first C.J. Tudor, and I look forward to reading The Chalk Man, which I have a niggling feeling I own as an audiobook? Or Kindle? I would definitely read the next book in THIS series. Ideally, I'm hoping for a more disciplined book in terms of the number of characters we give pages/POVs to and if that's needed.