Herculine: A Novel

by Grace Byron

Manhunt meets Lord of the Flies in this blistering horror debut following a young trans woman after she arrives at the all-trans girl commune founded by her toxic ex-girlfriend, only to discover that demons, both literal and figurative, haunt her fellow comrades—and she's their next prey!

Herculine’s narrator has demons. Sure, her life includes several hallmarks of the typical trans girl sob story—conversion therapy, a string of shitty low-paying jobs, and even shittier exes—but she also regularly debates sleep paralysis demons that turn to mist soon after she wakes and carries vials of holy oil in her purse. Nothing, though, prepares her for the new malevolent force stalking her through the streets of New York City, more powerful than any she’s ever encountered. Desperate to escape this ancient evil, she flees to rural Indiana, where her ex-girlfriend started an all-trans girl commune in the middle of the woods.

The secluded camp, named after 19th-century intersex memoirist Herculine Barbin, is a scrappy operation, but the shared sense of community among the girls is a welcome balm to the narrator’s growing isolation and paranoia. Still, something isn’t quite right at Herculine. Girls stop talking as soon as she enters the room, everyone seems to share a common secret, and the books lining the walls of the library harbor strange cryptograms. Soon what once looked like an escape becomes a trap all its own.

While trying to untangle the commune’s many mysteries, the narrator contends with disemboweled pigs, cultlike psychosexual rituals, and the horrors of communal breakfast. And before long, she discovers that her demons have followed her. And this time, they won’t be letting her go.

Genres: Horror, Queer, LGBT, Fiction, Transgender, Lesbian, Adult

Audible Audio

First published October 7, 2025

Reviews

[this_eel · Rating 2 out of 5]

Well, for starters, mentioning ketamine a lot doesn't make your book good or your character interesting, but it does tell me what kind of book you think you're writing. (So does telling us that your protagonist is a failed writer.) Saying you're "not like other girls" and your book isn't like othergirlbooks isn't less irritating when you're a trans girl talking about other trans girls. Not just a thought held in the mind of the character, either, but sort of...upheld throughout the book as she remains an outsider (AND morally superior) when surrounded by other women.

Especially when your book doesn't break any new ground or live up to the ground broken by other writers, in horror, about demons, from trans women writers about trans women characters, or any of the above in combination, shitting on your peers, both in community and profession, is something to approach with caution. If you aren't adding to the conversation but instead photocopying it, don't pull that shit.

Here is what I like: attempts to pair horror elements with questions of community, body politics, misogyny, religious trauma, and sexuality! Oldies, but goodies. I like a book where like 95% of lines are spoken by trans characters. I like a main character whose sense of gender and self-hood constantly straddle the line between freedom, shame, confusion, self-betrayal, and self-assuredness. It's uncomfortable in that space with her, which is where I like to be.

Here is what I don't like: the book!

1) I felt absolutely nothing. Pacing was weird, tone was flat, supernatural/horror elements in the form of demons had I think 0 new things to say (and the disaffectedness of the protagonist made them unspooky), character interactions were all off--pushed around like paper dolls into the places that it felt like a book would put them, except the book didn't actually do the legwork to get them there. This is (despite its protestations) a formulaic entry into Weird Girl Horror Fiction, where in a perfect example the unapproachable, obscure, hostile prose and erratic protagonist slap you in the face and makes you dissociate. I did not dissociate but I did wonder what all this was meant to add up to. The ending is lackluster as well, so there's no prize for sticking it out.

2) I stand behind authors putting What Weird Shit Is Hot To Them into their books. More than once this means I've had a competent but loathsome experience because one man's delight is another man's hard no. But with that risk in mind I say DO IT: shoot for the moon because even if you miss you'll be out there making people stare down your freak. But like the weird girl vibe and the overwhelming sense that Grace read Nevada and watched Xena season 3, this element felt like a mimic and a miss. It's hard to be genuinely scared and spooked by, literally, demons called Dagon and Asmodeus and Legion doing tethering and demonic pregnancy. Aside from being derivative, the tethering and the demonic pregnancy (and the bug monsters and the gore) and their underlying Subversive Sexiness substantially overran the themes they were supposed to be supporting. If you're going to make it my business at least make it thematically tight.

I dunno, man. I went in super hopeful because the premise is camp (...a pun...) and very much up my alley, but I was disappointed. I think it's too late for people to be printing the words "Would you still love me if I was a worm?" in their books.

I RECEIVED A FREE ARC OF THIS BOOK FROM THE PUBLISHER AND I TELL NO LIES, ALTHOUGH I RESERVE THE RIGHT TO CHANGE MY MIND ABOUT THE TRUTH.

[Alwynne · Rating 4 out of 5]

Journalist and critic Grace Byron’s compelling debut starts out as slow-burning, literary horror which later erupts into something close to grand guignol. Its unnamed narrator is struggling to negotiate everyday life as an impoverished, trans woman in New York. But, years after leaving home in the Midwest, nothing seems to be falling into place, not relationships, not reliable healthcare, not jobs – precarious at best. And she’s not even close to achieving her goal of becoming an established writer. But then things get that much worse, she’s suddenly plagued by hideous nightmares and stalked by menacing demonic manifestations. Something she thought she’d left behind, along with her conservative Christian upbringing and the conversion therapist intent on a vicious brand of exorcism. She’s not sure what these visions mean. Are they real? Are they hallucinations brought on by exhaustion and far too much ketamine? Do they signal a failure to confront inner demons? Verging on burnout, she’s offered a possible lifeline. Her long-lost, first love Ash invites her to Indiana where Ash has established an all-trans girls’ commune. But not long after the narrator arrives, she realises her dream of safe haven is closer to the stuff of her nightmares.

Bryon’s background is in art/literary criticism and cultural commentary, she’s a frequent contributor to publications like the New Yorker and LARB, so it’s not surprising her novel builds on ideas explored in earlier non-fiction and short stories. The horror framework also allows Byron to work in aspects of her own past without lapsing into the conventionally autobiographical - Byron’s written about surviving conversion therapy and her troubled relationship with evangelical, spiritual-warfare Christianity. I found Byron’s narrator a convincing, relatable character – I suspect how some readers ultimately respond to the novel will hinge on how much they feel driven to root for her. The early New York episodes have a grainy immediacy that builds on, and carefully subverts, the all-too-familiar subgenre of “small-town girl” trying to make it in the big city. The tone shifts between wry and rueful to sardonic to laugh-out-loud funny. Like so many debut novels, this felt a little overpacked at times, and the pacing can be a little off in places. The New York sections flow beautifully but the segue to Ash’s camp in Indiana, named after the iconic Herculine Barbin, is clunky and awkward – partly because of the space devoted to outlining the backgrounds of Ash’s various followers. But the dip doesn’t last for long as outright horror starts to become more and more central – an inventive variation on a plethora of holiday camp slasher narratives combined with a dash of Rosemary’s Baby and a host of stories about cults and brutal, demonic possessions. However, this is also an intriguing twist on a tragic love story, the narrator’s confronted by an Ash who isn’t the person she thought she was and rapidly realises their time together will never bring about the happy-ever-after – with earth-shattering sex - she so desperately yearns for.

It's a pleasurably referential piece ranging from thoughts about ground-breaking artist Greer Lankton to allusions to Ursula Le Guin’s fiction to unexpected musings on The X-files. Anyone familiar with Bryon will know that she’s fiercely political and that comes through here too, particularly issues around the economic and material aspects of trans existence in contemporary America. Ash’s insistence on filling Herculine with “survivors” of conversion therapy, abusive relationships and other forms of violence, indirectly comments on the legacies of so-called trauma-bonding; and the philosophy informing the camp’s founding invokes debates around t4t/T4T communities, isolationism versus utopianism, inclusion versus exclusion. Byron’s narrator is torn between seeking a retreat from the wider world and grappling with the challenges of a cis-dominated, increasingly repressive society. Admittedly Bryon’s narrative can be flawed and messy but it’s worth sticking with. Overall, it’s provocative and thoughtful, I particularly relished the bittersweet yet optimistic ending with its emphasis on friendship, solidarity, freedom and self-realisation.

Thanks to Edelweiss and publisher Saga Press/S&S

Rating: 3.5

[DianaRose · Rating 4 out of 5]

this read like a fever dream. there was a lot of drama, many demons (both human and supernatural), and an insane amount of drugs.

[Sidney · Rating 2 out of 5]

This should have been right up my alley but unfortunately, I did not like this book at all. I was expecting like a Midsommar type of vibe but make it queer & demonic & I barely got any of that.

Every character was so unlikeable for seemingly no reason?? I could not get into the writing, it felt disjointed & confusing especially a lot of the dialogue. I kept finding myself having to re read sentences because I was lost. It also gets a little repetitive at times, I think the word Ketamine is used like 50 times...I get it babes...you like ketamine, I don't need to be reminded every five pages.

The pacing is uneven, the first part dragged & then when we finally get to the second part & the commune I started thinking " ok, things should definitely start happening " & then it's just having sex & awkward interactions with the other girls that kind of add nothing to the story except to fill up space on pages until the last 25%. The story doesn't build to anything big, when we finally get to the demons running amock & the horror elements of the story I was so bored I didn't even care.

The premise was interesting but the execution was lacking. I was really hoping to love this but it just didn't pull me in like I expected it to.

Thank you to NetGalley & the publisher for this arc in exchange for an honest review

[Chloe · Rating 4 out of 5]

Post-read:
I enjoyed reading this but really felt like it fell apart on the back third. So much buildup for not a lot of payoff. I really enjoyed the New York sections, especially as a woman who follows the NY literary trans girl scene fairly closely and was able to discern who the Hot Freelance Girls and the late transitioning music journalist were. But once the action shifted the titular commune I felt like the plot became a series of loosely connected ideas that were never as fleshed out as well as they could have been. Maybe I had too high of expectations but if you set me up for a demonic showdown I'd really like the payoff and catharsis of a demonic showdown.

Pre-read:
As someone who has lived in an all-trans woman commune, with all the pitfalls and excesses that entails, I am intensely excited to read this book.

[endrju]

Spooktober #3

Global warming is ruining my Spooktober. There’s nothing spooky about a sunny October with temperatures over 20°C. Yes, yes, I know — everything is spooky about that, and I’m probably just reading the wrong kind of books — but could I please get at least a few dark, foggy nights before the season’s over? Anyway, this one’s all about voice. It’s very girl on the edge of a nervous breakdown, and I loved it. The horror itself isn’t much on its own, but it works nicely as a kind of post-horror strategy — giving flesh (khm) to a real-life issue, in this case transmisogyny. Really looking forward to whatever Byron does next.

[T Davidovsky · Rating 5 out of 5]

Herculine tells the story of a woman who, after her life falls apart, moves to commune founded by her ex. The commune is ostensibly for trans women who've survived terrible ordeals (oftentimes conversion therapy). There's a whole lot of trauma bonding, so it's not exactly the happiest place in the world, and things only get bleaker from there. What follows is violent, erotic, and hilarious. Each scene had me either squirming or laughing out loud. The narrator's biting observations about everything from religion to life in New York City are sharp and relatable. I loved her as a character, even with her many flaws. The side characters also felt so real, even when possessed by the very unreal demons. I found the book equal parts campy and devastating.

There's a lot of social commentary packed into the novel, but as prominent as it is, Herculine never once feels like a manifesto. The point is to be a horror story first, and it's an excellent one about demons, cults, trauma, sex, and abuse. Nothing is sanitized just to make straight cis readers feel more comfortable or educated, though I still learned a lot. The narrator's jaded and self deprecating personality makes the book surprisingly approachable, even if some of the content is transgressive or outside of your usual comfort zone. It's provocative and critical, but it's also inviting, which is fitting for a book about trans women trying to navigate questions around inclusion versus exclusion: Is it sometimes a good thing to isolate yourself if it's for your own protection?Should some spaces only include certain types of people? If so, which types of people do you end up alienating? What kind of bubble do you create?

The commune is far from a utopia, so you might expect that the novel comes down against isolationism, but things aren't framed as black and white. There's nuance. Even when the author does insert a strong opinion about something, she writes in a way that feels gentle and self aware, so you never feel scolded for asking questions in the first place.

I'm also not actually sure that the author truly does insert her opinions all that often. Most opinions come directly from the narrator, who could potentially be a self insert, but if she is, you barely notice it. She's messy and believable, and she has real weaknesses that make her all the more compelling. The narrative is definitely driven by her decisions and development in a way you might expect from a work of literary horror, though there's a wild plot too as you jump between different times and places, getting more insights into the protogonist and her backstory. For me, the wildness is a good thing. It contributes to the frantic, erratic, and surreal atmosphere, and I'm an absolute sucker for surrealism. Not once was I bored. I was just thrilled to be along for the ride.

Trigger warnings: physical and sexual violence, abuse, transphobia, homophobia, drugs, animal cruelty

~Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for a Digital ARC. All opinions are my own.~

[benjamin kade · Rating 2 out of 5]

eARC provided by Netgalley.

DNFing this at 68%. I can't go on any more. This was really rough. I'd had my eye on this for a while, so it see it in my inbox was a surprise as much as it was a delight. But y'all, I really struggled with this book. It took until the 40% mark for anything interesting at all to happen, and then when something finally occurred, it was so anti-climactic. It felt as though all the unimportant scenes were drawn out to be as long as they could and every scene that actually contributed to the plot was given a maximum page allotment of two pages. I also really struggled with this main character. She gave big edgy "I'm not like other girls" vibes, and her mentioning doing ketamine every other page did not help. It's really unfortunate that this was such a letdown because the cover is so gorgeous and as a trans person, I am always looking for more trans books to fit onto my shelves.

Thanks to Saga Press and Savannah Breckenridge for the ARC.

[Ryan Pfluger · Rating 5 out of 5]

Goodreads reviews are often the bad place. After reading a few of the first low star ratings on this book I needed to comment on that rather than a full review - For all the complaints about Ketamine talk being “overused” in this book - it’s mentioned a few times in the first 50 pages and then never again. Like at all. Left me wondering if it was just triggering for people or if they actually read this book. Anyway I read this in two days and thought it was a banger. Queerness is messy. Gender is messy. Most of all, demons are messy.

[Kirsten Mattingly · Rating 2 out of 5]

I would not recommend this book to anybody. The green cover is eye catching and the premise of the story is intriguing. I was expecting to enjoy Herculine and was excited that Netgalley approved my request for a free digital ARC. Thank you, Netgalley.

The main problem with the book is that it didn’t make me feel anything. The narrator is numb and disconnected and that makes the whole story feel flat and dissociated. The main character describes terrifying, gory, demonic scenes, and yet reading it I felt bored, not frightened. Similarly, the narrator describes abuse and trauma, and sobbing and needing to be held and feel loved, and yet the way it’s written didn’t stir me at all.

The only reason I am giving it two stars instead of one is because I follow the author on Instagram and X and I like her content on those platforms. Grace Byron’s magazine articles also were interesting to read.

[Sam Cheng · Rating 3 out of 5]

We follow our unnamed main character in two parts. In part one, she navigates life in New York as a working woman with her girl friends, a group of trans women supporting one another as they make their way. Our narrator left the Midwest because she needed an out from the demons and nightmares plagued by demons. Her demons, though, were metaphorical and literal. Metaphorically, her Christian mom brought her to a Christian conversion therapist for sessions with the youth pastor. Literally, evil spirits would haunt her sleep paralysis. Leaving behind her haunted childhood, along with her friend Ash, the friend who helped her transition because Ash also is a trans woman, our narrator moves to New York.

In part 2, our tired 27-year-old main character returns to Indiana for a month to reset. New York has been a good change in some ways, but the slime demons and servants of the night still lurk. Plus, she wonders if things with Ash will finally rekindle after their fallout years back. Ash, it turns out, leads Herculine, a commune for twenty trans women on the farm land she inherited. Our narrator can’t decide if the off-the-grid group is the ideal sapphic temple to cure her problems or a new problem to manage. Ash functions like their high priest, ushering in demons who are drawn to the women: “the trauma we’ve experienced severed our tethers to the earthly world. It makes us different, more receptive.” Ash beckons our main character to receive her demon, becoming fully tethered—she will no longer feel weak like she once did. In the final battle, however, she bests her demon by not conceding—“I won’t repent,” she cries. And quoting Naomi, she is set free from Gehenna.

I am constantly amazed at how useful a vessel the horror genre is for assessing contemporary culture. Byron’s novel is no exception: the metaphorical and literal employment of demons effectively portrays the dark and sometimes sinister aspects of religious misconceptions of ideas like sex and gender. I have in mind conversion therapy, though based on Herculine, more could be said about cults. Byron’s daring decision to place a trans community in a shadowy space also captured my attention; the “no one is above misbehaving,” to say it lightly, is a valuable position to assume in an attempt at critiquing objectively. The ending didn’t cohere as much as I would’ve preferred, but that wasn’t my biggest obstacle. Because of my personal belief in the spiritual world and understanding of demonology, I placed Herculine down several times—the demonic activity spooked me real quick (i.e., tethering, Legion), almost to the point of not being sure if I could finish it. With breathers, I finished the novel, and depending on one’s realistic portrayal of evil spirits, I may not recommend Byron’s debut.

My thanks to Saga Press and NetGalley for an ARC.

[✸ jax · Rating 3 out of 5]

★★★ ¼

what a fever dream, in the best way possible. some of my favorite books are the ones that make me feel like i've definitely taken a few things i shouldn't—bunny by mona awad comes to mind here—and i get to explore a warped, nonsensical fun-house-mirror world and be wholeheartedly be swept up in the tide of the book, even when one has to suspend their disbelief a little. i really enjoyed herculine. unapologetically queer female, and, more importantly, unapologetically trans, this book—though i didn't relate to all of the nameless protagonist's experiences, what with me being transmasculine and not transfeminine—gave a voice to horror that so often goes overlooked. what is a woman? can women ever really seek the autonomy they desire without being seen as sex symbols? how does being trans isolate you far before you even realize it? why are women still misogynistic and entitled even when desiring community, and are they, or is society at large, to blame? though i wasn't really expecting the horror of straightforward, bona fide hell-demons to be transformative in any manner, i enjoyed the way byron went about it (even if it did feel a bit corny at times)—and the societal questions the text brought up even more. the prose was also quite fun at times, and though some of the metaphors felt a bit too purple-y and disconnected, i felt herculine to be a solid addition to the literary fiction genre.

however, the book had some pretty severe pacing issues, with a too-slow beginning and a too-fast ramp to the top, and many of the girls (especially the narrator's friends we're introduced to at the start) felt like much of the same people with little to distinguish them. not enough attention was given to this, and it made it unclear if the protagonist was meant to suffer from a healthy helping of internalized misogyny/transmisogyny, or if this is something that the author needs to unpack herself, too. to me, this made many of the more harrowing elements—including the climax—fall a bit flat when it mattered, though i found the last few chapters satisfying as i pondered on them for a bit after finishing my read.

though herculine possesses many of the common problems of a debut novel, grace byron has an incredibly compelling and unique voice; i can't wait to see where more of her works take us in the future.

thank you to saga press and netgalley for the arc in exchange for an honest review. all opinions are my own.

[Kai Kokes · Rating 2 out of 5]

Sadly, this book did not do it for me. Which sucks because it sounded right up my alley and, in my opinion, has such a unique story idea. The story execution however was just extremely disjointed and patchy, I was often left confused multiple times.

I’ve read reviews of this being considered a slow-burn but I honestly didn’t get that, it just just felt like poorly paced writing rather than purposeful suspense. We just got whacked in the face with the horror elements in a way that literally made no sense to me? I’ll give it to Byron, I like the demons, I like how they were portrayed, but we were suddenly just thrown into the deep end of them and their lore within the commune,

Okay but the characters!? How was every single one unlikeable and problematic? I wasn’t able to connect with the main character at all, nor the people she surrounded herself with. Also, the amount of conversation around ketamine was just outrageous like…… we get it…. You like and use drugs???

So sad this one missed the mark for me, I was so excited to read it and the cover is just gorgeous.

Thank you NetGalley and Saga Press for providing me with this book in exchange for an honest review.

[Emily St. James]

Really good stuff. Captures the strange feral quality of both murders of trans women and the extreme rural Midwest. Lots of scary bug imagery too. Bugs bugs bugs.

[Wren Lee · Rating 3 out of 5]

A brutally introspective stream of consciousness, that delves deeply into the experience of being a trans woman both in society, as well as amongst others like her.

Our narrator, an unnamed trans woman living the city life in New York, seems to be in a never ending rut. Her relationships are all for pleasure only, her job is hardly enough to live off of when her boss remembers to pay her, and on top of it all, she is haunted by demons.

Ever since being forced to see a conversion specialist as a teenager, these demons have been a part of her almost daily life. Usually, they show up at night, acting in a way like the result of sleep paralysis. But then they start to pop up other places, like in a nightclub restroom.

So while our narrator is trying to stick it out and just find her own way, she also has a bug in her ear telling her she should just leave. Her ex, Ash, has built a seemingly successful commune of trans women out in Indiana, where they both grew up.

As things get worse and worse in New York, the call to go join the commune gets stronger, and more convincing. Our narrator hopes that by leaving the city, maybe the demons will stay behind, and things will get better. But what she doesn’t realize, is that the demons are here to stay, and more.

The first half of this book was pretty uneventful, and was 100% stream of consciousness about the narrators life, struggles, insecurities, relationships, friendships, and recounting of the experiences she has with the demons that haunt her. But nothing really happens until we hit the halfway point.

Once we get to the commune, things start to look suspicious, and eventually things go balls to the wall insane. This was definitely a slow burn, but the writing was really digestible, and the end came together pretty well.

I’m still trying to wrap my head around the narrative this author was going for with the demons and how they relate to the trans woman experience, but I feel like it’s up to reader interpretation. This definitely felt like it was based on personal experience of the author, without a doubt.

[em (lattereads) · Rating 1 out of 5]

In the kindest possible way, I think this is the worst book I have ever read in my entire life. There were nuggets of acerbic wit and hilarity, but half of the time I couldn’t tell if the book was trying to be satirical or if it was unintentionally funny. The paragraph below is a good example of the overall writing style.

“Somehow there wasn't a top shortage at Herculine even though everyone looked like a bottom to me. I poured a healthy amount in my mug and stirred in some sugar as we surveyed the girls in the cafeteria. Natalie was hard at work being a good little waitress. wondered if she was mad that Martha was going after another girl right in front of her face. Ash was shoveling food into her mouth as fast as possible so she could get back to her cyber lair and work for the man. The other girls blended together. Unless they were hot, obviously.”

The plot and themes of this book are incredibly interesting, but none of it was explored thoroughly in the text. After reading all 270 pages of Herculine I still have no idea what the day-to-day life on the commune is like, what the motivations of any of the characters are, or what the hell the demons wanted.

This needed quite a few more rounds of developmental editing prior to publication. I truly believe that this author is capable of writing an incredible story and I am sorry to write such a negative review — but unfortunately as a reader I found this to be poorly written and difficult to read.

Thank you to Saga Press and Netgalley for giving me an ARC of this novel.

[Kate Cross · Rating 2 out of 5]

I try to read at least one horror novel each October, and I was really excited for this one because I think Grace’s journalism work is really good and vital, which is why I’m sad to say that outside of a few moments it didn’t really work for me. Mainly I don’t think I can handle stories that are so much about trans pain and misery anymore. I think a few years ago when I was just starting out I would’ve found this cathartic, but having been through a lot of similar things as these characters I just found it depressing and repetitive. I think the first half is a really successful and nuanced portrayal of how complicated early transition friendship / romance can be and how those relationships are not always the healthiest and yet for better or worse those people tend to stay a part of your life, but when the horror elements ramp up I feel like a lot of the nuance is flattened in service of a metaphor that I found a little muddled. I want that complexity to be enough for the world. I refuse to believe that our trauma is the most interesting thing about trans life. The threats we are facing are very real; things are scary and difficult. And yet the trans women in my life remain the funniest, smartest, most creative and generous people I know. So when I read something like this that feels like it almost exclusively portrays trans existence as a literal nightmare I just feel sad even if I can’t really blame the author for feeling that way. I just don’t know if I find it productive.

[Morgan Wheeler · Rating 4 out of 5]

Herculine was a wild, surreal ride , part fever dream, part slow-burning horror that kept me both confused and completely hooked. While I often found myself unsure of what was happening, I couldn’t look away. The early hints of horror were deliciously eerie, and I found myself wanting more of that darkness to arrive sooner.
The actual horror elements took a while to unfold, and by the time they did, I felt a bit disoriented, especially by the ending. I’ll likely need to reread the final chapters to fully understand what Byron was doing there.
Still, I absolutely loved the concept and found the metaphors powerful and thought-provoking. Even with my lingering confusion, Herculine left a strong impression ..the kind of book that sticks with you long after you finish. For that reason, I’m giving it four stars.
Thank you to NetGalley and Saga Press | S&S/Saga Press for the advanced copy in exchange for my honest review.

[Annie Teer · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was creepy and a bit disturbing and I could not stop thinking about it. Will certainly be reading Byron’s next book.

Trans protagonists > trans role models

[C · Rating 5 out of 5]

Outstanding horror debut.

This jewel of a book lit up many familiar surfaces: sleep demons, the bated breath of bottom surgery, trans people fucking trans people, lesbian separatism, and mysticism. Grace Byron’s debut novel follows the narrator from Brooklyn back to Indiana, where she joins her ex-girlfriend’s all trans commune and wonders if life is worth living. Almost immediately this turns to whether life is worth fighting for—against many headed and tendril armed demons. While many transsexuals fend off real monsters: conversion therapists, politicians, and chasers, HERCULINE—which recalls Goya’s Pinturas negras—holds the reader-spectator in its strong sticky fingers and fulminates to its end. Grace Byron is, of the books I’ve read so far, the premier debut novelist of 2025.

Thanks NetGalley & Saga Press for the digital galley.

[Mag Piper · Rating 3 out of 5]

Thanks to NetGalley and Saga Press for the ARC! And oof was this an unflinching look at the destructive forces of trauma and desire.

Since I can’t quote directly from Herculine, let me share a quote from Byron’s recent review* of Torrey Peters’s Stag Dance for a taste of the essence here:

“Some actions cannot be reduced to simplistic internal incentives. […] Gender, like art, Peters argues, is not always explicable. The choices we make on a whim can sometimes say more about us than our most calculated attempts at coherence.”

Herculine is in conversation with exactly this incoherence. It is a meditation on the impossibility of qualifying gender, the foolishness of romanticizing lust, and the messiness of pursuing a dysfunctional self-fulfillment. It is anarchic, queer, unpleasant, and funny.

The novel pulls in two directions. There are a lot of thoughts about existing in the world as a white transgender woman haunted by a fundamentalist Christian childhood. Our unnamed narrator delineates the stereotypes, the struggles, the trauma, and the self-flagellating ways she chases love and community and repeatedly fails to find them. She incisively peels away mirages of trans joy and solidarity to expose a rotten core of jealousy and toxicity. Her cognizant critiques here are enlightening and, at times, humorous. This is where the story really stands out with its refreshingly direct musings on establishing not only your existence but your wants and needs in a world that does its best to shut you down.

The demonic all-trans girl commune that ensnares our narrator becomes a sort of external echo of the women’s desires as they trade their humanity for their bodies. The actual story gets a bit muddled: despite some excellently descriptive scene-setting, the blocking is often awkward and rushed, and the narrator tells some truly horrifying events in rather mechanical, superficial prose that does little to capture the atmosphere and emotion of the commune. I wanted a deeper sense of both her paranoia and her feelings for her ex-girlfriend as the plotline approached its climax, but I was left mildly unsatisfied. Still, as a cultural reflection, the horror of the narrator’s encroaching demons and her contentious relationships with other trans women and with herself made this a provocative and invigorating read.

* “Torrey Peters Reimagines Transness in Stag Dance,” Vulture, March 11 2025

[Siavahda · Rating 4 out of 5]

I recently learned the term ‘dirty realism’ – which is a literary movement/writing style – and thus finally have the words to explain why books like Herculine don’t work for me. I just don’t like this style! I understand what it’s doing, what the point of it is, and I think Byron is very good at it; it’s very effective here. I have no critiques; what I read of Herculine was objectively great. I don’t even have any nitpicky comments! (And if you’ve followed me for a while, you know how rare that is!)

But dirty realism is too freaking bleak for me, so. Alas, dear Herculine – we part as friends!

If you DO like dirty realism, then you will adore this, methinks. It’s bleak and sharp and wry and gritty, occasionally snarky; Byron has a great way with words (I highlighted several BANGER lines!); and the main character had me gently banging my head against the wall (complimentary). Myself, I’ll be paying close attention to whatever Byron publishes after this – I’ll be crossing my fingers that I’ll be a better fit for some future book of hers!

[Tye Rose · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoyed the premise and the horror elements of Herculine. I appreciate the kind of stream of consciousness writing that carried the story along, as well, but I felt majorly detached throughout. It felt like everything just happened to the MC with no input from her whatsoever. Also I have no clue what happened at the end honestly.

I feel like this novel could have a lot of success if it finds its way to the right people.

I won this book in a giveaway. That has not affected my rating or thoughts.

[Alex Catalano · Rating 1 out of 5]

1/5⭐️
this book put me in a reading slump, but i hate dnfing things. i think the cover is so cool but so wasted on this book. i thought it was going to be gross and scary, but it’s really really boring and also not really a horror novel. this book probably would’ve done numbers when books like my year of rest and relaxation were super trendy and everyone loved that kind of feral and unhinged main character. super bummed by this one

[Rome · Rating 4 out of 5]

Yellowjackets except they are all adults and choose to stay and are even crazier. Had so much fun reading this one and devoured it within days in a month where the books I've been reading were taking me a week each, so this was a breath of fresh air. I think the pacing is a bit off, it takes us a good third of the book to reach the commune, which is why we (readers) are all tuned in, but it does do some great development work during that time to show what life is like even in urban left-leaning areas for trans women. Once there, though, it's super fascinating and slowly builds, though I would've liked even more of the narrator slowly recognising something is off and seeing more little hints until we reach the climax. Everyone talking about how they love toxic yuri will enjoy the narrator's insanely awful girlfriend/situationship and Indigo (I loved Indigo so much). It was also so neat to see how the characters were able to let their guard down when in an all trans woman space and talk frankly as well as the ways they try to tear each other apart for a spot on the ladder. Excellent debut and I will be reading the next book Byron puts out.

Thank you to NetGalley, Saga Press, and Grace Byron for an eARC of this book! Herculine is out now!

[iam · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was hooked as soon as I heard "all trans girl commune" and "horror".

This was a lot more literary than I expected it to me (that's on me though for not looking more deeply into the book). A lot of the book is very flow-of-consciousness where the narrator talks about her life, current and past. That made the book feel very disjointed, and at time I struggled with accurately placing what she was currently talking about into the timeline of her life.

I enjoyed the messiness and drama as well as the sense of community, with all its ups and downs. The commune only appears surprisingly late in the book, and I wonder if that was done deliberately to show that just because people sometimes act weird or messily, doesn't mean they are demon-worshippers.

The somewhat disjointed narration unfortunately meant that I, at times, couldn't entirely follow the nuance of some situations, which led to a bit less emotional engagement than I would have liked. I also think that the line between what was demonic and what was normal was intentionally blurred, but that also meant that I sometimes found it confusing to read.

I received an ARC and reviewed honestly and voluntarily.

[Brenda Marie · Rating 4 out of 5]

WHAT A RIDE!
Lending the trans community such a strong, vibrant, angry voice - I see you!
I daily take for granted I am the gender of my body's identity. Watching such amazing cultural phenomena like Pose, Herculine is an in your face conversation showcasing the anger and desperation to be in YOUR body. The correct gender. The correct reproductive parts. Having a "normal" life.
With the current political climate, the transgender population is in crisis. Herculine takes a moment to show us a glimpse, just a glimpse, into the extreme they are being forced to consider.
My current reading obsession is queer horror - for this reason. It takes today's political nightmare - showcasing how normal this violence, this denial of human rights, denial to even exist has always been.

[Curtis · Rating 4 out of 5]

Talk about a hot mess! If you enjoy Eric LaRocca or Sara Gran’s Come Closer then you’ll probably have a good time here. Let books be problematic again!

[Eleonora Kapow · Rating 5 out of 5]

I almost want to ask anybody not to read this book. Not because of the disgusting body horror or the demons or all the gore and violence - that must be your own responsibility. But because of the discomfort of a trans community being centered in a horror story. We are so exposed right now and in more and more places also outright persecuted, and reading about monstrous trans woman gives me more than one kind of the creeps. But it also feels strangely empowering, and that's what horror does when it's best. So don't read this book. Or do - and please don't hate us.

[Nat · Rating 2 out of 5]

unfortunately falls into the “great premise, bad execution” category of debut novels