ARC review
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
The Ringmaster’s Requiem is a haunting, lyrical gothic novella that reads like a dark poem stitched together with blood, velvet, and grief. From the first page, it feels less like a story you read and more like a performance you’re pulled into—slow, deliberate, and impossible to look away from.
Visha is a striking, unforgettable heroine. She is not softened by her pain or redeemed by forgiveness—she is forged by it. Every scar carries weight, every choice echoes with loss, and her rule over the carnival feels earned through suffering rather than granted by fate. The imagery of crowns and cages, applause and silence, gives her journey an almost ritualistic gravity, as if each step is part of a final act she refuses to bow out of.
The carnival itself is alive—breathing, cursed, and heavy with memory. It serves as both prison and throne, amplifying the themes of betrayal, broken trust, and the cost of survival. Corvan’s quiet devotion provides a haunting contrast to the chaos surrounding Visha. He does not demand or rescue; he witnesses, and that restraint makes his presence powerful in a world screaming for spectacle.
What sets this novella apart is its refusal to offer easy comfort. This is not a story about mending what was broken—it’s about turning ruin into strength and grief into something sharp and commanding. Pain isn’t erased; it’s alchemized.
If you love gothic atmospheres, poetic prose, dark feminine rage, and stories where survival itself is the triumph, The Ringmaster’s Requiem is a devastatingly beautiful read. Step inside the tent—but don’t expect to leave unchanged. 🖤🎪