Let me start on a positive note: the cover of this edition is absolutely stunning, and the name Aila is beautiful and evocative. Unfortunately, that’s where most of my enthusiasm ends.
The book fell short for me in a few key areas. The characters feel like broad, empty stereotypes, lacking depth and emotional nuance. The writing style is average at best, with dialogue that often feels forced and artificial. It doesn’t quite capture natural human interaction, which made it difficult to connect with the characters or feel fully immersed in the story.
That said, there are a few moments that stood out. The descriptions of the Scottish landscape and towns were lovely, and I particularly enjoyed the scenes set in markets and during the trial. These parts brought a little more life and tension into the narrative.
The idea of including a travelling theatre troupe had potential, but it wasn’t fully developed. And the reverend character felt oddly reminiscent of the one in The Mercies by Kiran Millwood Hargrave—a book that, in contrast, handles historical witch trials with much more grace and authenticity.
The author does attempt to integrate historical facts through the narrator’s point of view, likely aiming to educate readers. But it feels clunky and unnatural, often reading like a textbook. For example, instead of letting the setting unfold organically, the narration pauses to explain how people lived at the time. It breaks the flow and weakens the storytelling.
Certain character moments, like Peggy’s postpartum struggles, are clearly trying to add depth, but end up feeling more like surface-level sociology lessons. And some scenes—like the golf course moment—are just over the top.
There are also several frustrating plot points. Why didn’t Jack marry Aila from the beginning? It would’ve resolved a lot of needless drama. The trial sequence had potential, but Jack’s actions with the knife left me puzzled. The burning scene was almost laughable with the makeup idea—it just didn’t land. However, I did like the escape to Ireland; it added a small sense of hope to an otherwise grim tale.
There’s also a lot of death, including Sim’s “cerebral commotion,” which adds to the emotional weight but not always in a meaningful way.
Then there’s the final chapter, set in modern times—honestly, a real “WTF” moment. It felt like it came from a completely different book. The writing was rigid, the dialogue stiff, and it didn’t flow at all with the rest of the narrative.
Overall, Thea’s Witch of Scotland was a miss for me. While it had a few redeeming features, they weren’t enough to outweigh the flat characters, awkward writing, and underdeveloped plot. I wouldn’t recommend it—but if you’re interested in powerful historical witch trial fiction, I’d point you to The Mercies instead.
Also, side note: Dunrobin Castle sounds beautiful. I definitely need to visit one day!