There’s something exquisitely unsettling about Amy Goldsmith’s latest YA horror, Predatory Natures. It’s not just the creeping vines or the claustrophobic luxury—it’s the sense that something ancient, feral, and furious is waiting just beneath the surface, watching.
Set aboard The Banebury, a decadent train meant to offer two weeks of calm before picking up its true guests, the story follows Lara, a girl cracked open by grief and guilt, desperate for something resembling escape. She takes a temporary staff position—simple work: serve the elite, clean their cabins, stay out of trouble.
But trouble boards early, in the form of Rhys—someone who knows exactly what Lara’s running from—and two unnervingly serene siblings who arrive with an entire cargo of exotic flora. The crew is forbidden from entering their private train cars, allegedly due to “organic matter.” But the train itself seems to disagree. The greenery grows. It spreads. It listens.
The atmosphere is breath-taking and rotting in equal measure: velvet seats gone damp with spores, golden fixtures overtaken by tendrils, the slow crawl of something unnatural taking hold. The further the train travels, the more it feels less like a journey and more like a transformation—of space, of mind, of body.
What Goldsmith does so well here is marry visceral horror with emotional depth. Lara’s story isn’t just about survival; it’s about reckoning—with trauma, with rage, with everything buried beneath a polished surface. The tension between her and Rhys adds a grounded, human dimension to the surreal horror, as they navigate their broken friendship and shared past amid the rising dread.
Gwydion, one of the guests, was a standout. Slippery, fascinating, and impossible to read, he brought an uncanny energy to the story that kept me constantly questioning motives and alliances.
This isn’t just a creepy train ride—it’s a pressure cooker. Each chapter builds toward a fever pitch of unease, and once it boils over, there’s no going back. Goldsmith doesn’t shy away from horror or psychological torment, and the result is a story that feels cinematic in scope but deeply personal in its themes.
Predatory Natures is for fans of slow-burn, atmospheric horror, and stories where the setting becomes a character in its own right. Amy Goldsmith is an author who continues to evolve and impress—her prose is rich, eerie, and unforgettable.
A surreal, haunting descent into beauty, rot, and feminine fury. I devoured this, and it devoured me right back.
4.5/stars!
Big thanks to Insta Book Tours and the publisher for the ARC. All opinions are my own.