An Amateur Witch’s Guide to Murder by K. Valentin
Thank you to Alcove Press and BookSparks for my gifted book.
If sarcasm was an Olympic sport, Mateo Borrero would have several medals and a demon possession problem. An Amateur Witch’s Guide to Murder is the spellbinding queer disaster comedy of my Halloween dreams. It’s got curses, con artistry, demon goo, and an aggressively gentle love interest with the emotional fragility of a wet paper napkin. I loved every absurd, unhinged minute.
Let’s set the cauldron scene: Mateo is broke, bitter, and possessed by a demon his mother installed like cursed antivirus software. She’s been missing for five years, probably off ruining someone else’s life, and in her wake, she left her magically-inexperienced son and a lot of unresolved trauma. Magic? Not allowed. Power? Untapped. Coping mechanisms? Mostly sarcasm and evasion. Naturally, Mateo decides to launch a magical side hustle as an “Occult Specialist,” despite having the experience level of a YouTube DIY fail. He’s joined in this brilliant scheme by Ophelia, his terrifyingly ride-or-die best friend, who astral projects out of awkward conversations like it’s a defense mechanism. Together, they’re barely functioning adults with vibes, a bowl of salt, and rent due.
Enter Topher—clueless, cursed, and rich. He’s the walking embodiment of a golden retriever with anxiety. He wants someone to break the mysterious bad-luck curse that keeps turning everyone around him into accidental casualties. Mateo, seeing dollar signs and zero qualifications, takes the job because bills wait for no witch. What follows is a murder-mystery-curse-exorcism-conspiracy-existential-nightmare with a dash of awkward yearning and frequent emotional whiplash. Oh, and the more magic Mateo uses to “help,” the more his internal demon starts making Yelp reviews about who he’d like to eat next. Fun!
Topher is sunshine personified, but make it tragic. He is endearingly sincere in a world that wants to kill him every time he dares to form an attachment. Watching him slowly bond with Mateo—who responds to affection like it’s a personal attack—was honestly the weirdest romance arc I’ve rooted for in a long time. But it works. Mateo’s distrust meets Topher’s optimism in a deliciously slow-burn mess that somehow pulls off tenderness amid magical doom.
And Ophelia? She’s the spooky season bestie we all deserve. Sharp as a blade, emotionally constipated, fiercely loyal, and clearly the most qualified person in the room. I would 100% let her haunt my apartment and offer unsolicited advice while floating above my bed. The Mateo-Ophelia dynamic carries so much depth and codependent affection it nearly eclipses the romantic subplot—and frankly, I wouldn’t be mad if this was just a found family series about these two dragging each other through life.
The plot unfolds like someone lit a fuse and walked away. There’s a cursed house, blood rituals, demon politics, and at least one evil wizard with an unfortunate fashion sense. The mystery at the heart of it all twists and turns just enough to keep you on your toes, even if you might sniff out the villain a little early. But let’s be real, this book isn’t about airtight whodunits. It’s about the characters trying—and frequently failing—to be functional while wading through trauma, magical bureaucracy, and their own disaster emotions.
K. Valentin’s writing is full of razor-edged humor and emotional undercurrents you don’t see coming. One minute you’re laughing at a joke about cursed customer service, and the next you’re reeling from a line about abandonment that hits way too close to home. The prose walks that line between absurd and sincere with the balance of a circus tightrope act. And if you’re a sucker for inner monologues that drip with fatalism, sass, and an underlying sense of doom? You’ll eat this up.
Favorite line?
“Is it still cannibalism if the demon technically pays rent in your ribcage?”
Honestly, that sums up the vibe. Equal parts horrific and hilarious.
If you’re looking for a cozy read, but your version of cozy includes mild gore, demonic possession, and emotional damage disguised as banter, An Amateur Witch’s Guide to Murder is your next obsession. It’s Legends & Lattes if you replaced coffee with blood rituals and added a bisexual exorcist with mommy issues. It’s Dead Like Me meets T.J. Klune with way more sarcasm and just enough murder to keep things festive.
Final verdict? Give me three more books about this cursed trio, a spinoff for Ophelia, and a deluxe edition with annotations from the demon’s POV.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 (4.5 out of 5 stars)
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