Yana, a vampire hunter, arrives in the cursed village of Koprivci promising salvation. But there is more to the village than meets the eye. And Yana is not what she pretends to be.
'It's dangerous to go alone at night...'
Yana, a vampire hunter, rides into Koprivci promising salvation. The village’s curse has endured for many years and rumour has it that Anka – whose parents died on the night of her birth – is to blame. But enduring the villagers’ suspicion is the least of Anka’s worries; now she has reached womanhood, she can no longer avoid the odious marriage that seems to be her only option.
When animal corpses start to appear in the village square and eggs filled with blood are found in the chicken coops, panic rises. The villagers look to Yana for hope. She knows all about the monsters that stalk the night, monsters that only she can vanquish. But Yana is a liar. And monsters come in all different forms.
Yana and Anka become unlikely allies in hatching a plot to save both Koprivci and Anka from their fates. But then their plan takes on a horrifying life of its own...
I'll be honest i don't typically go for folklore horror because I usually end up dnf'ing or just finding them really dull but this cover & synopsis sold me
Overall I did enjoy this. I loved the writing, the superstitious "cursed" village, the dark gothic atmosphere...but after finishing it I couldn't help but feel like the synopsis is a little misleading. The prologue pulled me in right from the beginning, & I flew through the first 50%, but the longer I read I was just left waiting for the vampire/vampire hunter aspect to kick in & well...there's barely any in the book at all.
The last half was a little boring for me, I think this really just comes down to there not actually being any vamps or vampire hunting going on like I anticipated. This is definitely a character driven story, mainly focusing on Anka & her trying to escape a forced marriage.
Captain Creepy is just...gross & weird & he deserved a lot more than what he got. I think this is still worth a read if you're someone who likes a more character driven gothic story but I would advise not to go into this expecting vamps or monsters because you might end up disappointed. I definitely see the potential in Anna Kovatcheva so I will be keeping an eye out for her books in the future!
Thank you to NetGalley & the publisher for this arc in exchange for an honest review
She Made Herself a Monster is a character-driven story with beautiful prose and vivid imagery. However, I agree with other reviewers that the description of this book is misleading. Very little of the story delivers on the premise of a vampire hunter and an orphan conjuring a monster to help the latter escape a forced marriage. In fact, this doesn’t really come to fruition at all. Instead, the story focuses on the inner monsters of our characters, and how a superstitious town is quick to blame their misfortunes on the supernatural, rather than the man-made monsters that live among them.
Thank you NetGalley and Mariner Books for the e-arc in exchange for my honest review.
Sharp, visceral, and atmospheric. I've been looking forward to this book - a tale of a con artist pretending to be a vampire hunter in a small Bulgarian village - ever since it was first announced, and I'm thrilled that it met my high expectations. I loved the setting, the folk horror elements, the tight pacing and unpredictable plot - but most of all, I loved the characters, each complex and fully realised. An excellent read.
When I initially spotted this exquisite cover, I knew I had to have it. It’s absolutely beautiful.
I want to specify that this is a character driven story first. If you’re expecting a fast paced vampire themed novel, you won’t get that. I think we get more witchery tale than anything. The writing is fantastic.
Inspired by Slavic folklore, She Made Herself a Monster is a gothic tale about doing what it takes for the ones you love. This is perfect for fans of slow burn character driven storytelling and folklore.
I liked this...but also...why was I so confused sometimes? As a couple early readers mentioned, the setting reminded me a bit of Lapvona with the superstitious village and morbid tales (not quite as strange and morbid as Lapvona though).
So there was some genuinely stunning writing and some incredibly bold and descriptive scenes (egg, comb, brick, lamb). The premise of a fake vampire slayer using her work to relinquish villages of unfounded paranoia and superstition is fascinating! The atmosphere was dark and Gothic and everything I love.
However, I felt like the plot could be a bit thin and muddled. Specific points were brought up that never seemed to come back around (ex. the comet). Also, please, someone explain to me that scene early in the book when Kiril and Anka are fighting.
So, all in all, I'd read any future novel from this author because they have some gold.
She Made Herself a Monster by Anna Kovatcheva Rating: ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ 3 stars.
The synopsis grabbed my attention with “a self-proclaimed vampire slayer—actually, a traveling con artist—joins forces with a teenage girl to create a monster deadly enough to vanquish their own demons. We make monsters in order to destroy them.”
I’m undecided on whether or not the book delivered. It’s a little misleading as far as vampires and slayers go…
The story started off well enough and I enjoyed the gothic vibes with the village, myths and superstitious villagers. We’re introduced to Anka, a young woman (as in not a legal adult yet,) who is doing every thing she can to avoid being locked into a forced marriage (with the character known only as The Captain, who is disturbingly creepy.)
The plot is decent and the pacing worked for a bit but once I hit about 50% read, it stagnated. There are some big revelations and vivid imagery (the comb scene IYKYK) but there really wasn’t a build up of tension (or excitement,) and the climax, while entertaining, just didn’t hit.
This story is more about superstitions, damaging rumors, secrets, betrayals and the monsters people become when they are complicit. (Not so much about vampires or slayers.) There are lessons to be learned, for sure and some heavy subject matter.
So, it’s not a bad book. It’s just a book. That I read. And that’s it. Nothing that will keep me thinking about it in future days.
Thank you to NetGalley and Mariner Books for the digital advanced reader copy in exchange for my honest opinion.
With such a gripping description and prologue, “She Made Herself a Monster” promises an unsettling tale of feminine rage. A promise that is mostly, but not entirely, realized.
The characters are strong, all with clear motivations and explanations for any existing flaws. There were times where I disliked characters such as Kiril so strongly, but then would read a passage that made me empathize with him instead. When my opinions about character genuinely change throughout a book, I know that the author has written them in a believable we. Additionally, even though there was an antagonist for this novel, I liked how the author humanized them and showed their compassionate side.
Strongly character driven, I found the plot mostly solid with some areas that needed a little more attention. For example, the motif of Hassan’s comet was nice and the moment with Kiril and Hassan at the beginning was nice, but then it felt like that part of the story and Kiril’s life was abruptly dropped. It made me confused on why it wasn’t addressed more at the end. However, the main story, focusing on Anka and Kiril, kept me engaged with the novel. By the end I was fully invested with how the main plot would resolve itself.
Even though I was expecting a bit more horror throughout the novel, I was pleased to find a novel that carefully examines the bond of a broken “family.” It brings up the question of what lengths we would go to in order to support the ones we love.
❗️Although thisbook was provided to me as an ARC from NetGalley, all opinions are my own.❗️
5/5 - Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for this ARC in exchange for an honest review
Has a similar backdrop to Lapvona (a small, superstitious village with morbid tales), but it focuses on the reclaimation of autonomy. I also found the story of the fake vampire hunter to be unique, and the perspectives of each character to be utterly engrossing. I would recommend this book for people who love the movie The Handmaid's Tale and Lapvona. Kovatcheva is an amazing storyteller, and the plot just comes together seamlessly.
If people are dubbing this Folk Horror, then I’m stumped, because I don’t really get the ‘folklore’ vibe, nor any ‘horror’. Neither would I say that this is in any way ‘gothic’. This is plain Historical Fiction. There’s no paranormal or supernatural element at all, if that’s what you’re looking for from a release that cashes in on opening its blurb with ‘vampire hunter’.
Outside of the prologue, there’s no vampire hunter action in ‘She Made Herself a Monster’, and there certainly aren’t any vampires. The blurb mentions a ‘horrifying plan’, but unless Romeo and Juliet is also ‘horrifying’, then this is a misnomer too (the central ploy is lifted from Friar Laurence’s own scheme). So, I’m really coming up with nothing to recommend this novel, since I was sucked in (pun intended), as many Horror fans will be, by the (terrific) bloody cover art.
In fact, this is the opposite of one of my book obsessions, which is vampire novels that pretend they’re not vampire novels (T Kingfisher’s Wolf Worm; Francesca May’s This Vicious Hunger). Conversely, ‘She Made Herself a Monster’ promises vampire horror and delivers an underdeveloped bid at character study.
I couldn't empathise with any of the central characters; couldn't even muster enough spirit for disdain. Characters are obfuscated by the narrative. It's disjointed. At points, I swore I'd missed something; swore I must’ve missed a chapter, especially at the start.
Overall, there's very little to ‘go on'. The novel is scant on plot, scant on backstory, scant on characterisation. The characters often act outside of their dramatic function (why does Kiril strangle Anka? Why does the novel open with Kiril and Hassan but then completely drop their relationship?), and what seem like major plot points (eggs filled with blood, the comet) are under-utilised and left hanging.
Even the prose failed to light me up. In every respect, then, the novel feels as though there’s something missing, and the interludes only served to distract me from what was already a lacklustre plot, for me. I felt all the way through that I was waiting for something to happen, until I just couldn't care, and only limped on till the end.
Thanks to Random House UK, Vintage for the eARC via NetGalley.
The pacing was too slow in the first half for me to want to continue. I didn’t find this very gothic… for me the telltale sign of gothic is leaving the reader feeling unsettled throughout. The first chapter set high creepy expectations but then the creepy took a bow and left the stage.
It’s giving daily life in a small gossipy and judgey village
This one wasn’t for me unfortunately and I agree with others that the description is very misleading. There is no vampire hunting here, just a charlatan one in what isn’t a fantasy horror but a character based book.
The main problem I had was the characters. I didn’t gel with one of them. They vary from uninteresting to damn right nasty and unlikeable. I really had nothing invested in them as I read the book. There are also a few wtf moments with the actions of our characters where I had no idea why they happened or what they were in the book for.
There are some nice descriptive prose if that’s your thing but personally I find it hard to enjoy any book where I have no interest in what happens to any of the characters and sadly this was the case here.
Many thanks to the publisher for the ARC through Netgalley.
Thank you to NetGalley and Random House UK, Vintage | Harvill for providing me with the ARC. She made herself a monster is not a typical vampire novel. I’m pretty sure this original take will surprise you. I always love when stories contain elements of the Slavic folklore, fables and rituals and here everything is presented in the most raw and fascinating way. The sharp, quick writing makes the pages flow and the strong, fully fleshed-out characters were solid and complex. I expected our vampire hunter to be the main character, but the central figure is Anka. Her story is so tragic and the real horror is what is to come for her. The familial trauma is reflected in every character, we have a true villain who is disgusting and evil, but also a person, who believes that he can undo the wrongs he did. Kiril is probably the most complex character; his arc is the most fleshed out. I disliked him at the beginning, but getting to know him, I sympathized with him and loved the way he grounded himself by the end. The least interesting person for me was Yana, but still her presence was the key for the events to unfold. The animal killings were necessary for the sacrifices, but still it was hard to read it, so check the triggers for animal death. It was done respectfully though, as respectful as a killing could be. There were so many great elements, and superstitions, and tales incorporated here as metaphors. The tale of the golden girl is one of my favorite stories and I loved seeing it here. The two interludes were also a great touch. I feel like the physical copy of this book would look amazing, so I would recommend reading it physically. I’ll absolutely get my copy once it gets published.
She Made Herself A Monster was not what I was expecting. I was drawn to this book by its cover. This is set in a Bulgarian village where Anka has now reached womanhood and can no longer avoid a marriage that she does not want but doesn't know how to escape it. When signs of vampire activity start to show in the village, neighbours turn against each other with accusations of witchcraft. Yana, a vampire hunter, is summoned. She knows how to vanquish monsters so the villagers look to Yana with hope. I enjoyed this. The characters are complex, and I found myself being invested in their stories.
3.25* I feel like the blurb isn't clear enough. I went into this thinking that there would be some supernatural elements or something of the sort, but there's nothing (just superstitions that grow due to Yana's actions). There was no monster and I really don't think their plan took a "horrifying life of its own" like the blurb mentions. But is wasn't bad, just a bit misleading so it impacted my opinion
An atmospheric, character driven story with gothic and folklore tones. Although the description says vampire/vampire hunters there was very little it that way, normally I’d be disappointed by a lack of vampires, however I had such a great time with this book.
The writing was really beautiful yet harsh at times and the cautious little village setting was brought to life in such a charged way, I felt like part of the crazy community. The plot surprised me, characters gripped me and the intense story drew me in.
I can’t help myself but fall in love with folklore, horror books. And this delivered the true nature of those genres by giving us the everyday monsters and horrors that human beings can be themselves. At some points I was absolutely horrified and disgusted and others I wanted to cry. She Made Herself a Monster certainly packs a punch.
Release date: 12th February
[GIFTED - thankyou @harvillbooks / @vintagebooks for the proof]
I really liked this! Beautiful story on female survival and folklore, enjoyed the lesbian undertones deeply. (Also my favourite painting ever on the cover just adds to my love)
I enjoyed this book. It's about a girl trying to escape a marriage to the man who raised her. She employs a woman who has come to town to organize a ( making of a monster , so to speak ) to fake kill her so she can escape. Of course everything doesn't go to plan. Overall I liked this book and found it interesting. I was hoping for a little more monster but that's ok.
4.5 rounded up MAN the description on goodreads is not accurate at all but i am so glad i was able to read this book (i love my job) can't wait for it to be published so i can recommend it to my local gothic folk horror enthusiasts
A wonderfully complex and character-driven novel. I feel the description doesn’t quite do it justice - it is less of a vampire hunter facade and more of a complex family with complex relationships between deeply flawed and troubled characters.
The characterization of the main cast was excellent, and even side characters stood out as unique personalities with their own role to play. Anka in particular was easy to empathize with, and made emotional decisions that were easy to understand and rationalize. The antagonists in the story were at times terrible, but also oddly complex, and provided interesting depth.
I found this lagging at the begging, but really hits its stride around the midway mark. The ending is touching.
Thank you to Anna Kovatcheva, Mariner Books, and NetGalley for the ARC!
Unfortunately, I couldn’t really get into this one. While the premise was interesting, the story ultimately failed to deliver on its promise. I struggled to connect with any of the characters, and the weird uncle–foster father dynamic was especially off putting and gross. If the story had stayed more focused on its original premise and been trimmed down into a novella, it would have made for a much stronger reading experience.
Thank you to Netgalley and Mariner Books for this arc
idk if i zoned out while listening to the audiobook but i was simultaneously confused about the storyline and also upset that nothing was really happening. this is not horror and there are no vampires - i feel misled 😭
A feminist story like no other, nuanced and elegant in its highlighting of brutality, superstition and powerlessness. There is a collective strength in this story that is so refreshing and uplifting. Especially a coming together of women putting themselves at risk to help another woman. I truly loved all these female characters! They are strong but not loud, their strength is internal, an innate power that makes them resourceful and therefore invincible.
On the other hand, the male characters of the Captain and Kiril are small, defined by their position in society and, especially for the Captain by violence and fear instilled in others, falsely portrayed as power. As for Kiril, I have to admit that I both hated and had compassion for him, but I finally understood that he was just a product of the status quo, and that when change was demanded of him, he came through, acting as a real healer.
The characters that surprised me the most were Anka and Yana, for different reasons. Yana (and her mum before her), for retaining faith in humanity, even after seeing how cruel it could be. A con, yes, but to give hope to people without harming anyone. I should add here that her acts included animal sacrifices, which I found very upsetting as an animal lover. There is especially a scene that had me bursting into tears (consider yourself warned).
However, what she does is genius, as instead of burning witches or exorcising vulnerable people, she creates and blames monsters, giving people what they want, a scapegoat. And that's what Anka did, she was willing to make herself a monster in order to become the agent of her life, unwilling to yield to a fate she didn’t choose. Unwilling to kneel to someone she didn’t want just because they expected her to be grateful, or because they said so.
This is a story of true feminine power, that doesn’t need to shout or to hit to be felt. True strength acts in silence, using intellect and opportunity without boasting. This is the story of a brilliant group of women and their bravery, when they slayed the true town monster! Elegant prose and richly gothic, I highly recommend it.
Thanks to Vintage Books and Penguin Random House for a copy and this is my honest opinion.
This was a polarising read for me… it was purely coincidental, but I happen to be Bulgarian, and when I see a book being described as 19th century Bulgarian gothic with Slavic folklore, I perk up - it’s a rare thing with so, so much potential; I understand that the book wasn’t written with our population as the target audience, but even so, there were some very strange choices.
Now, here comes my main issue with this book: it is set in a very specific time, around 20 years post-Ottoman Empire liberation at the very end of the 19th century, yet nothing aside from character names suggests where the story is taking place or when, and even I, as a native, couldn’t piece it together until I looked up an interview with the author… it’s so vague that it’s an issue. It could literally be anywhere from lack of specificity. You can do vague well, and that wouldn’t bother me, but this is the equivalent of situating a story shortly after WWII in Germany and it having no relevance to the story or the characters.
I mean it: the particular time the author decided on didn’t influence the story at all, and it could’ve easily been set 100 years before with little to no impact on it instead of the author using a very important and distinct historical period for Bulgaria as “historical set dressing”, insisting that “the story was more important than realism” and that she “did some historical reading but accepted there would be inaccuracies” - direct author quotes from an interview; so it makes absolutely no sense to me why this specific time period was chosen when it played no role whatsoever.
There were plenty of inaccuracies on top of that that I won’t go into, but the writing itself was pretty good, in my opinion, which is partially why the lazy research makes me so mad; though it weirdly flip-flopped between being overtly descriptive when it came to the characters’ thoughts and quite sparse when it came to their surroundings (especially the Captain’s house), between completely vague descriptions of time and space and very particular local customs that were never explained (I listened to the audiobook, so unless the physical copy had some annotations, I don’t think a foreign audience would understand those references - the wedding kissing chant, the traditional breakfast drink, etc).
Again, we have a case of mismarketing: this really isn’t horror; it’s literary / “historical” character study-driven fiction with gothic themes where humans are the real horror; I don’t mind that, but if you’re looking for actual deep folklore immersion and supernatural elements, you won’t find them here.
I actually enjoyed the character arcs, their questionable choices and moral greyness, and how the story developed once I was able to distance myself from the blatant disregard of the historical context and setting and the missed opportunity for a more layered use of local history, Slavic mythology and folklore.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This was dark and moody with a prose that felt like velvet and cigarettes. Sorry if that makes no sense, I cannot explain it 😆 I felt like I was invited to marvel at all the ways love, hate, and trauma bind us to those with whom we're closest. That alone would make this book worth reading so when you layer on these strong, female characters who are unapologetic in their fight for life, legacy, and love you get absolute cake 🎂 That half a star I withheld is me wishing it'd been longer. These characters, this village, this story could've easily carried a longer story and I would've relished every page. I know we just got this author's debut novel but I'm already eagerly awaiting the next one 📚
In She Made Herself a Monster, Anna Kovatcheva crafts not just a novel but a spectral meditation on fear, agency, and the alchemy of storytelling. Set against the frost-bitten backdrop of 19th-century Bulgaria, her prose channels both the hush of a midnight conventicle and the primal rhythm of an ancient folk song, invoking a world suspended between superstition and survival, blood and myth. This debut is at once a gothic fable, a feminist allegory, and a cultural tapestry woven through with the muted hues of Slavic folklore — ghosts lingering at the threshold of every page, and truths too fierce to speak by daylight.
From the first paragraph, one senses that Kovatcheva writes with the confident restraint of a poet and the inquisitive precision of a folklorist. Her sentences unfurl with the careful cadence of an incantation: lyrical, unhurried, and deeply enmeshed with the terrain they describe. Villages like Koprivci rise from mist and memory with an almost tactile presence — ramshackle cottages ringed by frost, fields shrunken and brittle, and villagers whose gazes carry the long weight of loss and hope intermingled. The setting is no mere backdrop; it is an active, breathing force in the narrative, shaped as much by harsh winters and failing crops as by the whispered legends that give meaning to misfortune.
The novel unfurls through the lives of two women whose fates, at first seemingly disparate, become irrevocably bound: Yana, an itinerant slayer of monsters whose methodologies are more theatrical than arcane, and Anka, a solitary orphan whose resilience flickers like a candle in the wind. Yana’s trade is peculiar: a self-proclaimed vampire hunter who drifts from hamlet to hamlet, staging grisly tableaux that convince the afflicted that evil has stalked their thresholds and then been vanquished. She sets animal corpses in village squares; she speaks of fanged horrors in the night. All the while, she knows — at least in moments of rare honesty — that her “monsters” are conjured not by fangs and claws but by fear itself.
Kovatcheva’s portrayal of Yana is complex and fascinating. She is neither quite charlatan nor pure heroine but something wilder and more resonant: a woman who has learned to speak the language of dread so intimately that she can both summon it and dispel it. Her internal life is steeped in shadows and memory, and the more she performs her craft, the more her own identity bends toward the uncanny. Her interactions with villagers are narrated with a quiet empathy, even when the rituals themselves are grisly; she is a figure rooted in folklore yet unmistakably modern in her self-awareness.
In Koprivci, where infant mortality and unexplained illness have cast a pall over every hearth, the villagers’ eyes betray the dread of generations. It is here that Yana meets Anka, a girl whose pathos is carved in stark relief against the village’s despair. Anka — scapegoated, misunderstood, and rapidly approaching the perilous threshold of imposed adulthood — is caught in the tangled vines of tradition and coercion. Groomed by the village Captain to become his bride, she stands on the precipice of a fate that would erase her agency entirely. Her plight, fragile yet fiercely resolute, becomes the true heart of the narrative.
The alliance that forms between these two women is at once tender and harrowing. Together, they conjure a plan as audacious as it is desperate: to fabricate a monster so loathsome, so utterly terrifying, that the village will look to it instead of the Captain’s avarice and cruelty. At first, this act seems rooted in cunning — a spectacle of shadows and blood to distract and confound — but Kovatcheva, in her exquisite prose, reveals that even fabricated fears can grow teeth. The plot becomes a crucible in which the boundaries between illusion and reality begin to erode, and where the true horrors are not the creatures of legend but the human impulses that breed them.
Kovatcheva’s use of folklore is not superficial ornamentation but thematic bedrock. The Slavic myths and superstitions that permeate the novel function as more than atmospheric detail; they reflect deep psychological landscapes of naming and banishment, of the stories we tell to make sense of tragedy. In this rendering, vampires and witches are less supernatural adversaries than symbols of collective dread, projections of a community’s unspoken fears and unaddressed guilt. By co-opting and re-envisioning these tales, Kovatcheva interrogates not only the past but the ways in which narratives themselves shape social consciousness and individual resolve.
The prose throughout is nothing short of ravishing. Kovatcheva writes with an awareness of the musicality inherent in language — every sentence is calibrated to evoke sensation as much as idea. Descriptions of the landscape, the shifting light of dawn on frost-silvered fields, the visceral details of staged rituals and whispered quilted fears are rendered with an almost tactile quality that lingers long after the page has turned. Her voice marries critical acuity with a kind of lyricism that transforms even the bleakest moments into passages of poignant beauty.
Yet it is the characters who truly animate this tale’s emotional gravity. Yana’s oscillation between performative bravado and private vulnerability creates a figure of rare narrative complexity. Anka’s evolution — from isolated victim to an agent of her destiny — is both harrowing and exhilarating, executed with such narrative grace that it feels almost like mythic transformation. Even secondary figures, whether allies or antagonists, shimmer with distinctiveness, their interiorities hinted at with a rare economy of language.
Thematically, She Made Herself a Monster interrogates the nature of monstrosity itself. Here, monsters are not creatures perched behind bushes or lurking in forgotten tombs; they are the cruelty embedded in a community’s logic, the oppression justified by superstition, the quiet decay of hope in the absence of solidarity. In this respect, the novel stands as a feminist fable not because it places women at the center of its narrative, but because it examines the social structures that seek to constrain them — and then dismantles those structures through acts of collective resistance and imaginative audacity.
Ultimately, Kovatcheva’s debut is a meditation on storytelling itself: not merely the tales we pass down through generations, but the stories we craft to reckon with pain, to name the unnamed, and to reclaim agency from the jaws of despair. It is a work that resists tidy categorization — simultaneously gothic, folkloric, historical, and profoundly humane — and it leaves the reader with a sense of quiet awe at both its craft and its ambition.
She Made Herself a Monster is not just a gorgeous novel; it is a testament to the transformative power of language and myth. Its prose is luminous, its characters unforgettable, and its folkloric landscapes rich with the echoes of ancient tales that refuse to be forgotten. This is fiction that remains with you — both a reflection and a refracted dream — long after the final page has turned.
I wasn't sure what I was stepping into... would it be a Frankenstein tale or Crucible-like trials? I truly enjoyed this novel. A tale of real life monsters set in 19th century, small village in Bulgaria. How cruel humans can be especially with a cheering crowd in the shadows, comforting their own fears. We create our own monsters to make ourselves feel better, to explain and jusify misfortunes. Thank you for the ARC opportunity thru Goodreads giveaway.
This book has: 1) eye catching title, 2) gorgeous cover, 3) beautiful writing, 4) interesting blurb. I loved this book since the very beginning, especially when it turned horrific and gory. Loved Yana and Anka, all my support went for them, Captain can go to hell for all I care (I didn't like him at all). Also, the female rage? Chef's kiss. So glad I picked up this book. This book is perfect for The Hounding fans.
What I liked most about this story is that it's possible to sympathize with people who make poor decisions. They're put in impossible positions, and the bad choices they make are small enough to seem inconsequential. Things mostly revolve around gendered violence, but it's isn't just about sexually abusing and exploiting women (though do be warned that sexual assault does occur in this book). It's also about enacting little betrayals. It's exposing secrets. It's complicity in the face of cruelty. It's taking advantage of a harmful situation that you didn't technically create. It's choosing one woman over another. It's believing a rumor. It's being betrayed by your own body and desires. Eventually, however, these inconsequential things build up, and small acts of violence reveal themselves to be incredibly damaging, especially if there's a conveniently vulnerable scapegoat.
In this case, the scapegoat is Anka, a girl being groomed to marry a man she's not interested in, but she's not the only vulnerable person in town. There's also Nina, the widow being accused of witchcraft. There's Kiril, Anka's abused, manipulated, and deeply insecure cousin. There's the entire town of Koprivici, a small Bulgarian village that seems to have been cursed.
Because of this curse, everyone is superstitious, which allows them to fall prey to the new arrival, a con woman who's pretending to be a vampire hunter. Her intentions aren't initially pure, not exactly, but they're also not nefarious. She Made Herself a Monster isn't interested in easy and simplistic divides between good and evil. Everyone, no matter how kind and innocent, finds that protecting themselves and those they care about always come at a cost.
What you should expect from this story is beautiful prose, a folkloric atmosphere, more gore and suspense than actual supernatural horror, a few scenes with (what I interpreted as) sapphic pining, a fascinating twist on the vampire story, and a tiny bit of righteous feminine rage.
If I have criticisms, it's that the plot and premise are a little thin. Anka has her reasons for not running away from her desperate circumstances, but they get increasingly flimsier over time. It's sometimes not totally clear why her plans for escape are constantly changing and failing.
I also found that some characters didn't have the most distinctive voices. The side characters especially blurred together, and I kept getting the sense that there might have been a few dropped plot lines around them. (For example, for a book about superstitions, it's disappointing to meet zero characters who are actually superstitious. All we see is people who know better tricking their neighbors. We don't learn much about those tricked neighbors.) It's a real shame, because what makes the book special is a tangled web of relationships and a resulting set of power dynamics between many people in one village. Since a lot of characters have an important role to play in this web, Anka doesn't (or shouldn't) have the burden of carrying the narrative alone. However, as the plot progresses, minor characters get sidelined. The focus ends up narrowing in on Anka a little too much, and I eventually started to realize that she's somewhat derivative as far as protagonists in horror novels go.
~Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for a digital ARC. All opinions are my own.~