What do you think?
Rate this book
Carnalis
Wealthy party girl Lauren hungers for human flesh. Her girlfriend Alex, a recently injured dancer, is trapped in Lauren's toxic and deadly spiral. The looming threat of capture may prove to be less dangerous than Lauren herself and the lengths she will go to satiate her needs. Will Alex be next on the menu?
155 pages, Paperback
Published March 1, 2026
About the author
Tiffany Morris
38 books191 followersTiffany Morris is an L’nu’skw (Mi’kmaw) writer from Nova Scotia. She is the author of the swampcore horror novella Green Fuse Burning (Stelliform Books, 2023) and the Elgin-nominated horror poetry collection Elegies of Rotting Stars (Nictitating Books, 2022). Her work has appeared in the Indigenous horror anthology Never Whistle At Night, as well as in Nightmare Magazine, Uncanny Magazine, and Apex Magazine, among others. She has an MA in English with a focus on Indigenous Futurisms and apocalyptic literature.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 58 reviews
April 9, 2026
Review soon!
August 10, 2026
Really enjoyed this short novella from Tiffany Morris. Morris is a great writer of anatomy. Reminded me a little of Craig Davidson, in that they both consider what's happening within the body when horrific things are happening to it, if that makes sense? I don't know. But don't skip this one.
January 12, 2026
A delicious little novella, and a refreshing take on the cannibalism genre.
March 20, 2026
Sapphic desire served rare
BWAF SINISTER SELECTION
BWAF Score: 8/10
TL;DR: Tiffany Morris’s Carnalis is a razor-bright, unflinching triumph: erotic, disgusting, and surgically smart about class, consent, and consumption. It turns sapphic desire into a pressure cooker, then sharpens the horror with lyrical precision and real moral heat. Gorgeous, brutal, and impossible to look away from once it starts feeding.
Every chapter in this novella is named after a part of the tongue. Epiglottis. Vallate Papillae. Fungiform Papillae. Terminal Sulcus. That should tell you something, because Carnalis is obsessed with the mouth, with what goes in and what comes out: language, lies, desire, and meat. Especially meat. It wants you to feel every texture it describes, and it succeeds so thoroughly that I had to put it down twice to go stare at a wall and reconsider some recent meals.
The setup is deceptively domestic. Lauren is a wealthy, surgically perfected white woman living in Toronto with her girlfriend Alex, a Mi’kmaw ballet dancer recovering from a career-threatening knee injury. Lauren volunteers at a food co-op, plans a podcast about culinary traditions, and cooks elaborate dinners. She is also a cannibal, sourcing human flesh from a shadowy operation where desperate people “volunteer” their bodies in exchange for a brief life of comfort before slaughter. When Lauren kills her supplier and panics, she drags Alex across the country to hide out on a remote First Nations reserve with Alex’s estranged cousin, and the book becomes a pressure cooker of secrets, dependency, and escalating dread.
What makes Carnalis genuinely unnerving is not the cannibalism itself. It’s how completely Morris inhabits Lauren’s perspective. The first half locks you inside the skull of a narcissist with such airtight precision that you start to feel complicit. Lauren is always performing, always calculating the angle of her smile, the shade of blush that mimics an orgasm flush, the exact emotional leverage needed to make men do what she wants. Morris never winks at the reader. There’s no narrative safety net telling you this woman is a monster. You just feel it accumulating, sentence by sentence, in the gap between what Lauren says and what Lauren thinks. She thinks about crushing her mother’s face into a granite countertop with the same breezy internal register she uses to plan a crème brûlée. That tonal control is the engine that makes this slim book hit so far above its weight.
Tiffany Morris is an L’nu’skw (Mi’kmaw) writer from Kjipuktuk (Halifax), Nova Scotia, and Carnalis is her second novella following Green Fuse Burning, the swampcore eco-horror that earned nominations for the Shirley Jackson Award, the Indigenous Voices Award, the Ignyte, and the Aurora. She holds an MA in English from Acadia University with a focus on Indigenous Futurisms and apocalyptic literature, and her poetry collection Elegies of Rotting Stars won the Elgin Award. Her short fiction has appeared in the landmark Indigenous horror anthology Never Whistle at Night as well as Nightmare Magazine and Uncanny Magazine, among others. In a recent reading for the Brockton Writers Series, Morris talked openly about the peculiar challenges of writing a cannibal protagonist, noting her relief at no longer keeping Lauren in such close company. You can feel that in the book: an author who went somewhere genuinely uncomfortable for the work and brought back something alive and twitching. Where Green Fuse Burning channeled grief and ecological dread through Mi’kmaw cultural frameworks, Carnalis turns that same intelligence toward consumption as a metaphor for possession, extraction, and the colonial appetite that swallows people whole.
The prose is rich, sometimes almost too rich, in the way that expensive food can be almost too rich, which I suspect is entirely on purpose. Morris writes with a poet’s instinct for image and sound. The book is full of moments that lodge themselves somewhere behind your ribs: Lauren running her fingers along an exposed thoracic cage while whispering about holiness. The pink triangle of a stolen tongue tucked into a designer handbag. A bus full of sleeping strangers hurtling through minus-45 windchill on the Manitoba plains while Lauren fantasizes about survival cannibalism. And then, in the final pages, the red crack of the aurora borealis splitting open above a wrecked truck on an icy causeway, two rez dogs emerging from shadow with their teeth bared. That last image is going to live in my head for a while.
The POV shift in Part Two, when we finally get Alex’s perspective, is where the book finds its heart. Alex is everything Lauren isn’t: genuinely wounded, genuinely kind, genuinely trapped. Her grief over her dead parents, her closeted shame around her cousin’s born-again Christianity, the slow sickening realization of what Lauren has been feeding her. The scene where Alex finds the tongue in Lauren’s purse is a masterclass in condensed horror, because the dread isn’t really about the object. It’s about the five years of meals she can never un-eat. It’s about knowing, in one terrible moment, that your whole life has been built on someone else’s hunger.
If I have complaints, they’re small. The road trip midsection sags slightly, and Steve, the rideshare guy, is more function than character. A few of the anatomical-philosophical interludes about the tongue, while beautiful in isolation, slow the momentum when the plot is begging to sprint. And the book is so short that some of its thematic ambitions, particularly around class and the ethics of consent, get gestured at rather than fully excavated. But that restraint might be the right call. Morris trusts her reader to do the work, and the compression gives the whole thing a coiled, predatory energy that a longer book would have diluted.
Carnalis is mean and beautiful and smart as hell. It made me think about consumption in ways I did not ask to think about it, and I mean that as the highest possible compliment. Buy the shit out of this book.
Read if you want sapphic horror that’s sexy, disgusting, and mean about wealth pretending it’s love.
Skip if you hate intimate power-imbalance dynamics and relationships that curdle fast.
BWAF SINISTER SELECTION
BWAF Score: 8/10
TL;DR: Tiffany Morris’s Carnalis is a razor-bright, unflinching triumph: erotic, disgusting, and surgically smart about class, consent, and consumption. It turns sapphic desire into a pressure cooker, then sharpens the horror with lyrical precision and real moral heat. Gorgeous, brutal, and impossible to look away from once it starts feeding.
Every chapter in this novella is named after a part of the tongue. Epiglottis. Vallate Papillae. Fungiform Papillae. Terminal Sulcus. That should tell you something, because Carnalis is obsessed with the mouth, with what goes in and what comes out: language, lies, desire, and meat. Especially meat. It wants you to feel every texture it describes, and it succeeds so thoroughly that I had to put it down twice to go stare at a wall and reconsider some recent meals.
The setup is deceptively domestic. Lauren is a wealthy, surgically perfected white woman living in Toronto with her girlfriend Alex, a Mi’kmaw ballet dancer recovering from a career-threatening knee injury. Lauren volunteers at a food co-op, plans a podcast about culinary traditions, and cooks elaborate dinners. She is also a cannibal, sourcing human flesh from a shadowy operation where desperate people “volunteer” their bodies in exchange for a brief life of comfort before slaughter. When Lauren kills her supplier and panics, she drags Alex across the country to hide out on a remote First Nations reserve with Alex’s estranged cousin, and the book becomes a pressure cooker of secrets, dependency, and escalating dread.
What makes Carnalis genuinely unnerving is not the cannibalism itself. It’s how completely Morris inhabits Lauren’s perspective. The first half locks you inside the skull of a narcissist with such airtight precision that you start to feel complicit. Lauren is always performing, always calculating the angle of her smile, the shade of blush that mimics an orgasm flush, the exact emotional leverage needed to make men do what she wants. Morris never winks at the reader. There’s no narrative safety net telling you this woman is a monster. You just feel it accumulating, sentence by sentence, in the gap between what Lauren says and what Lauren thinks. She thinks about crushing her mother’s face into a granite countertop with the same breezy internal register she uses to plan a crème brûlée. That tonal control is the engine that makes this slim book hit so far above its weight.
Tiffany Morris is an L’nu’skw (Mi’kmaw) writer from Kjipuktuk (Halifax), Nova Scotia, and Carnalis is her second novella following Green Fuse Burning, the swampcore eco-horror that earned nominations for the Shirley Jackson Award, the Indigenous Voices Award, the Ignyte, and the Aurora. She holds an MA in English from Acadia University with a focus on Indigenous Futurisms and apocalyptic literature, and her poetry collection Elegies of Rotting Stars won the Elgin Award. Her short fiction has appeared in the landmark Indigenous horror anthology Never Whistle at Night as well as Nightmare Magazine and Uncanny Magazine, among others. In a recent reading for the Brockton Writers Series, Morris talked openly about the peculiar challenges of writing a cannibal protagonist, noting her relief at no longer keeping Lauren in such close company. You can feel that in the book: an author who went somewhere genuinely uncomfortable for the work and brought back something alive and twitching. Where Green Fuse Burning channeled grief and ecological dread through Mi’kmaw cultural frameworks, Carnalis turns that same intelligence toward consumption as a metaphor for possession, extraction, and the colonial appetite that swallows people whole.
The prose is rich, sometimes almost too rich, in the way that expensive food can be almost too rich, which I suspect is entirely on purpose. Morris writes with a poet’s instinct for image and sound. The book is full of moments that lodge themselves somewhere behind your ribs: Lauren running her fingers along an exposed thoracic cage while whispering about holiness. The pink triangle of a stolen tongue tucked into a designer handbag. A bus full of sleeping strangers hurtling through minus-45 windchill on the Manitoba plains while Lauren fantasizes about survival cannibalism. And then, in the final pages, the red crack of the aurora borealis splitting open above a wrecked truck on an icy causeway, two rez dogs emerging from shadow with their teeth bared. That last image is going to live in my head for a while.
The POV shift in Part Two, when we finally get Alex’s perspective, is where the book finds its heart. Alex is everything Lauren isn’t: genuinely wounded, genuinely kind, genuinely trapped. Her grief over her dead parents, her closeted shame around her cousin’s born-again Christianity, the slow sickening realization of what Lauren has been feeding her. The scene where Alex finds the tongue in Lauren’s purse is a masterclass in condensed horror, because the dread isn’t really about the object. It’s about the five years of meals she can never un-eat. It’s about knowing, in one terrible moment, that your whole life has been built on someone else’s hunger.
If I have complaints, they’re small. The road trip midsection sags slightly, and Steve, the rideshare guy, is more function than character. A few of the anatomical-philosophical interludes about the tongue, while beautiful in isolation, slow the momentum when the plot is begging to sprint. And the book is so short that some of its thematic ambitions, particularly around class and the ethics of consent, get gestured at rather than fully excavated. But that restraint might be the right call. Morris trusts her reader to do the work, and the compression gives the whole thing a coiled, predatory energy that a longer book would have diluted.
Carnalis is mean and beautiful and smart as hell. It made me think about consumption in ways I did not ask to think about it, and I mean that as the highest possible compliment. Buy the shit out of this book.
Read if you want sapphic horror that’s sexy, disgusting, and mean about wealth pretending it’s love.
Skip if you hate intimate power-imbalance dynamics and relationships that curdle fast.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 18, 2026
I read GREEN FUSE BURNING today and enjoyed it so much I launched into Morris's newest book, CARNALIS, which I enjoyed even more. Cannibalism horror terrifies me but I find myself curiously compelled by it; there's something about the chilling allegory of consumption in a literal sense-- consumed by love, by vanity, by greed, by desire. After all, they say you are what you eat.
This is a sapphic horror novel about two women, Lauren and Alex. Lauren is a white woman who comes from a wealthy background. She's had plastic surgery (at her father's encouragement) to mold herself into the perfect conventional beauty standard, and she dabbles in food influencing and cooking. She's also a cannibal and her parents own an "ethically sourced" meat facility that predates on the poorest and most desperate, giving them "luxurious" accommodations before stunning and killing them.
Alex is a Native ballerina who has just suffered a devastating injury. Her parents are dead and she has no money of her own and now Lauren is her sole source of support, physical and financial, until her surgery. But when Lauren compromises her parents' facility and panics, she drags the two of them to Alex's reservation and Conservative and religious cousin, thinking they can hide out there. Part one is from Lauren's POV and part two is from Alex's POV, and in addition to the "rich eating the poor" narrative, there's also a chilling allegory for how Native culture is consumed by white people, because they like the trappings of it freed from the cultural imports and context, or because they see it as an easy means of escaping from the tediums of their every day lives.
If you enjoyed GREEDY by Callie Kazumi and LAMB by Lucy Rose, you'll love this.
4.5 stars
This is a sapphic horror novel about two women, Lauren and Alex. Lauren is a white woman who comes from a wealthy background. She's had plastic surgery (at her father's encouragement) to mold herself into the perfect conventional beauty standard, and she dabbles in food influencing and cooking. She's also a cannibal and her parents own an "ethically sourced" meat facility that predates on the poorest and most desperate, giving them "luxurious" accommodations before stunning and killing them.
Alex is a Native ballerina who has just suffered a devastating injury. Her parents are dead and she has no money of her own and now Lauren is her sole source of support, physical and financial, until her surgery. But when Lauren compromises her parents' facility and panics, she drags the two of them to Alex's reservation and Conservative and religious cousin, thinking they can hide out there. Part one is from Lauren's POV and part two is from Alex's POV, and in addition to the "rich eating the poor" narrative, there's also a chilling allegory for how Native culture is consumed by white people, because they like the trappings of it freed from the cultural imports and context, or because they see it as an easy means of escaping from the tediums of their every day lives.
If you enjoyed GREEDY by Callie Kazumi and LAMB by Lucy Rose, you'll love this.
4.5 stars
May 31, 2026
Is the rest of the story in the room with us?
January 24, 2026
I was super excited to receive an ARC of Carnalis! (Thank you Tiffany Morris 😍) I LOVED Green Fuse Burning, so I went in confident I’d devour whatever Morris served up next, and this novella did not disappoint. Where her previous work leaned swamp-core, Carnalis sharpens its teeth and goes straight for cannibalism with a disturbingly original twist.
In this world, humans can volunteer themselves as ethically sourced meat. They agree to live out their final days in comfort - well housed, well fed, free of worry - until someone with an insatiable appetite, like Lauren, pays to consume them. The real horror is that Lauren’s girlfriend, Alex, has no idea about Lauren’s hunger for human flesh, and watching that secret fester is deliciously unsettling. I enjoyed the story at every turn, though I found myself wishing the volunteers had been explored a bit more, I was really intrigued (& also disturbed) by that aspect. Lauren, meanwhile, starts off unhinged and only gets worse, and as things escalate, I couldn’t help but worry for Alex. The tension is slow-burning, intimate and hard to shake.
What also elevates the story, is how Morris weaves in sharp commentary on class, race, gender identity, eating disorders, cultural colonialism (with Lauren as white and Alex as Mi’kmaw/Indigenous), and toxic relationships - all without dulling the blade of the narrative. And her prose is to die for! Lyrical, lush, and impossible not to fall in love with. I especially loved the use of the tongue’s anatomy as chapter headers - you’ll understand why once you sink your teeth in 👀
This dark little novella is absolutely worth your time, there’s a surprising amount to savor in so few pages, and I’m already hungry for more from this author.
In this world, humans can volunteer themselves as ethically sourced meat. They agree to live out their final days in comfort - well housed, well fed, free of worry - until someone with an insatiable appetite, like Lauren, pays to consume them. The real horror is that Lauren’s girlfriend, Alex, has no idea about Lauren’s hunger for human flesh, and watching that secret fester is deliciously unsettling. I enjoyed the story at every turn, though I found myself wishing the volunteers had been explored a bit more, I was really intrigued (& also disturbed) by that aspect. Lauren, meanwhile, starts off unhinged and only gets worse, and as things escalate, I couldn’t help but worry for Alex. The tension is slow-burning, intimate and hard to shake.
What also elevates the story, is how Morris weaves in sharp commentary on class, race, gender identity, eating disorders, cultural colonialism (with Lauren as white and Alex as Mi’kmaw/Indigenous), and toxic relationships - all without dulling the blade of the narrative. And her prose is to die for! Lyrical, lush, and impossible not to fall in love with. I especially loved the use of the tongue’s anatomy as chapter headers - you’ll understand why once you sink your teeth in 👀
This dark little novella is absolutely worth your time, there’s a surprising amount to savor in so few pages, and I’m already hungry for more from this author.
April 24, 2026
This didn’t work for me at all. It felt unfinished and the characters made absurd decisions.
April 3, 2026
Short but definitely packs a punch. Lauren is a women from a wealthy family with a particular appetite. She has connections to "ethically sourced" meat. Which is to say, there is an organization that arranges comfortable final days to individuals who consent to their bodies being eaten upon death. Lauren has a girlfriend Alex, a ballerina who recently tore her ACL. The story follows their relationship and all its toxic traits and power imbalances as Lauren gets herself in trouble with her meat dealer and the two of them flee Toronto to Alex's cousins house to an isolated town in rural Manitoba.
Morris is such an incredible writer that it took me a minute to remember that Lauren is a despicable person. I guess in a lot of ways I was similiar to Alex by being hoodwinked by Lauren. It's when we enter Alex's POV (which was my favourite and such a pleasant surprise) that seeing her from a different perspective we can see Lauren as the selfish, arrogant person she is. Alex was such a great character and felt like such a genuine and authentic person. Morris always seems to breathe freshness into her stories (because we can all agree there has been an influx of cannibal stories) that they feel unique. It helps that her prose is just such a pleasure to read as well.
If you love cannibal stories and/or toxic lesbians than you should definitely should check this one out.
Thank you to the author and Nictitating books for the free arc in exchange for my review.
Morris is such an incredible writer that it took me a minute to remember that Lauren is a despicable person. I guess in a lot of ways I was similiar to Alex by being hoodwinked by Lauren. It's when we enter Alex's POV (which was my favourite and such a pleasant surprise) that seeing her from a different perspective we can see Lauren as the selfish, arrogant person she is. Alex was such a great character and felt like such a genuine and authentic person. Morris always seems to breathe freshness into her stories (because we can all agree there has been an influx of cannibal stories) that they feel unique. It helps that her prose is just such a pleasure to read as well.
If you love cannibal stories and/or toxic lesbians than you should definitely should check this one out.
Thank you to the author and Nictitating books for the free arc in exchange for my review.
June 16, 2026
I love this story, but it was such a tease. We got a delicious taste of this world but because of the length, I was left with so many questions. TBF, I rather a book leave me wanting more than less and that was certainly true here, but I hope Tiffany Morris gives us a full length prequel to this because how did this family get involved in this?!
June 12, 2026
You know what they say: eat the rich or the rich will eat you
March 25, 2026
“No one has a family without wounds. It always comes, whether it's from living with them or in their absence”
Lauren has spent a lifetime crafting an outward persona that is free of controversy and filled with altruistic and philanthropic activities. Her girlfriend, Alex, is a professional dancer, currently sidelined with a devastating injury. Together, they live in a trendy Toronto neighborhood. However, Lauren has a secret, and recent events threaten to bring to light her insatiable appetite.
Much like Lauren and her ethically sourced meat, I devoured this literary nourishment with pleasure. I adored Green Fuse Burning, so when I saw a new novella from Morris, I knew I had to get my hands on this as soon as possible. The dynamic between the wealthy, perfectly presented, white Lauren and her Mi’kmaq professional dancer girlfriend Alex is everything in his novel. Obviously, cannibalism is the plot that drives the story, but the tension and Lauren’s overt manipulation and gaslighting of Alex and everyone in her life is what gives the book its deepest strength. I swear there were points near the novel’s climax where I felt like I was white-knuckling my e-reader; it's that tense!
Just as her earlier work, Morris’ beautiful prose shines through giving this book a memorable feel, setting it apart from its contemporaries. I might have worn out my Kobo’s highlighting feature as I tried to take note of as many quotes as possible.
I’m comfortable in saying Carnalis is an essential 2026 read that will absolutely find a spot on my year-end list. I do hope more people check it out. Tiffany will be an author I continue to watch out for and eagerly anticipate her future work.
Lauren has spent a lifetime crafting an outward persona that is free of controversy and filled with altruistic and philanthropic activities. Her girlfriend, Alex, is a professional dancer, currently sidelined with a devastating injury. Together, they live in a trendy Toronto neighborhood. However, Lauren has a secret, and recent events threaten to bring to light her insatiable appetite.
Much like Lauren and her ethically sourced meat, I devoured this literary nourishment with pleasure. I adored Green Fuse Burning, so when I saw a new novella from Morris, I knew I had to get my hands on this as soon as possible. The dynamic between the wealthy, perfectly presented, white Lauren and her Mi’kmaq professional dancer girlfriend Alex is everything in his novel. Obviously, cannibalism is the plot that drives the story, but the tension and Lauren’s overt manipulation and gaslighting of Alex and everyone in her life is what gives the book its deepest strength. I swear there were points near the novel’s climax where I felt like I was white-knuckling my e-reader; it's that tense!
Just as her earlier work, Morris’ beautiful prose shines through giving this book a memorable feel, setting it apart from its contemporaries. I might have worn out my Kobo’s highlighting feature as I tried to take note of as many quotes as possible.
I’m comfortable in saying Carnalis is an essential 2026 read that will absolutely find a spot on my year-end list. I do hope more people check it out. Tiffany will be an author I continue to watch out for and eagerly anticipate her future work.
May 13, 2026
This book will be my gateway into weird girl cannibalism books
I read this ahead of TriCon 2026 where the author will be hosting some events. Initially I hoped the other library loan would come through first, because sometimes heavy gore makes my brain feel bad. I was nervous. But this little novella doesn't languish too heavily in the gushy moments. Instead, I was drawn into the minds of the characters and their justifications for their actions.
Written by an indigenous author, the novella tackles the opposite perspectives of a rich, privileged white woman who eats people, and an orphaned, disabled indigenous woman who might get eaten. I'm hoping to hear more about the process of this book's creation over the weekend. It's not hard to imagine a scenario where this novella is a thought experiment around the The Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls movement, and the terrible mystery surrounding the disappearances. Regardless of where the idea comes from, this is a great option for someone wanting to try weird girl fiction without diving into the deepest, bloodiest end
I read this ahead of TriCon 2026 where the author will be hosting some events. Initially I hoped the other library loan would come through first, because sometimes heavy gore makes my brain feel bad. I was nervous. But this little novella doesn't languish too heavily in the gushy moments. Instead, I was drawn into the minds of the characters and their justifications for their actions.
Written by an indigenous author, the novella tackles the opposite perspectives of a rich, privileged white woman who eats people, and an orphaned, disabled indigenous woman who might get eaten. I'm hoping to hear more about the process of this book's creation over the weekend. It's not hard to imagine a scenario where this novella is a thought experiment around the The Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls movement, and the terrible mystery surrounding the disappearances. Regardless of where the idea comes from, this is a great option for someone wanting to try weird girl fiction without diving into the deepest, bloodiest end
August 17, 2026
What a stunning novella, one of the most punching things I have read in a long time.
Lauren is white, wealthy, and enjoys partying. Alex, her girlfriend, is Mi'kmaw Indigenous, financially dependent on Lauren, and a professional dancer who tore her ACL.
Lauren volunteers at a food bank and wants to start a food podcast. On the outside, that looks normal, but looks can be deceiving.
The contents of the book nauseated me but the prose and details are so stunning. Each chapter is named after a part of the tongue, which fits well for the novella. The fonts also fit with the aesthetic and tone of the novella. The dialogue is really sharp and the perspective switch between Lauren and Alex really solidified how the story developed itself. The pacing felt a little slow at some points but it moved fast in all the right places.
"I think in some ways we always create the people we love. And maybe they, in turn, create us with their love."
Lauren is white, wealthy, and enjoys partying. Alex, her girlfriend, is Mi'kmaw Indigenous, financially dependent on Lauren, and a professional dancer who tore her ACL.
Lauren volunteers at a food bank and wants to start a food podcast. On the outside, that looks normal, but looks can be deceiving.
The contents of the book nauseated me but the prose and details are so stunning. Each chapter is named after a part of the tongue, which fits well for the novella. The fonts also fit with the aesthetic and tone of the novella. The dialogue is really sharp and the perspective switch between Lauren and Alex really solidified how the story developed itself. The pacing felt a little slow at some points but it moved fast in all the right places.
"I think in some ways we always create the people we love. And maybe they, in turn, create us with their love."
September 9, 2026
The only downside is I wanted more! Lauren is wealthy, spontaneous, and a girlfriend to Alex, at least in the loose definition of the word. If you are what you eat were a novella, it'd be this one. The prose is a tantalizing dance between macabre and gorgeous, constantly keeping you on the edge and straddling the two. I loved how the gore really seeped through such beauty- it translated well to me what the author was attempting to convey with the feminine rage and indigenous lore. Juxtaposition at it's finest is what Carnalis portrays. It's perfect for fans of The Night Guest, What Hunger, or Peggy Viggy Hampton.
April 23, 2026
Another unique cannibalism book..how these authors come up with these plots I'll never know. To me, these one was much more tame than some others I have read. If you enjoy this, read Bloom by Delilah Dawson. If your ready to step it up a level, try Exquisite Corpse by Poppy Brite.
July 22, 2026
Es un concepto de canibalismo queer nativo americano que se queda como eso: una idea.
Pareciera que el libro se queda a la mitad en todo, tanto en trama, mensaje y en desarrollo de personajes. Lo que lo hace un libro poco memorable.
Pareciera que el libro se queda a la mitad en todo, tanto en trama, mensaje y en desarrollo de personajes. Lo que lo hace un libro poco memorable.
April 6, 2026
3.5⭐️ rounded down
June 23, 2026
lush prose, cannibalism, toxic love, rich people nonsense, AND THERE WAS A TONGUE IN A PURSE
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 2, 2026
while incredibly poetic, there wasn’t much narrative here. it felt like a lot of threads were started (and had great potential too!) but nothing ever had any resolution.
September 5, 2026
The story felt underdeveloped in some aspects, and a bit all over the place. I felt like we jumped from scene to scene without context, but near the end I started to feel more invested in the cannibalism part.
April 20, 2026
Totally grossed me out! Yay! The writing was excellent and it had great tension throughout. I felt the ending could have been stronger, but I absolutely loved and devoured the first 3/4 of the book like a finely marbled "special" loin. If you can sit through an episode of Black Mirror without closing your eyes or squirming too much you will love this story.
I'm going to add that I wished for more. I love the short tight tension this novella achieved but like Lauren, the greedy hungry part of me wants more. More Alex, especially. I wanted to spend a bit more time with her. I've been thinking about this book since reading it a couple of weeks ago and I think I might have to have a reread already.
I am excited to read anything Tiffany Morris writes.
I'm going to add that I wished for more. I love the short tight tension this novella achieved but like Lauren, the greedy hungry part of me wants more. More Alex, especially. I wanted to spend a bit more time with her. I've been thinking about this book since reading it a couple of weeks ago and I think I might have to have a reread already.
I am excited to read anything Tiffany Morris writes.
May 24, 2026
I wasn't grossed out, but I got bored, impatient, and didn't find the story satisfactory.
May 20, 2026
“Humans are meat that dreams. Impulses of flesh within flesh, sinew and gristle, movement and longing, electric and chemical signals that create an experience called human.”
There are a few tropes that I’d consider my “buzz-kill-words” in books. They are basically the opposite of buzz-words, meaning that if I hear your book contains one of these tropes, I will almost instantly lose interest. A few examples include “amnesia” for mystery, “fae” for fantasy and “cannibalism” for horror.
Carnalis therefore should’ve been a hard miss for me, but I’ll take the occasional risk for my favourite authors and am so happy I did in this case. Tiffany Morris, I think you’ve just written the first/only cannibal-horror-story that I love.
The Story:
In this horror novella we follow the toxic, codependent and potentially dangerous relationship between wealthy party-girl Lauren, and her underprivileged girlfriend Alex, a ballet-dancer recovering from a recent career-threatening injury. Increasingly codependent and toxic, their relationship spirals as Alex uncovers the truth about the exclusive dinner-parties Lauren hosts, and the coop she resources her “ethically sourced meat” from.
What I loved:
Tiffany Morris, in her signature lush, poetic and sensory prose, weaves a remarkably layered tale of consumption and hunger in its various forms, in just over 150 pages. She uses the cannibalism-trope as a vehicle to explore themes of social- racial and class-inequality, relational power dynamics, eating-disorders, the female body and obsession. Rather than becoming oversaturated, Morris makes these various themes sing synergistically into a balanced and impactful whole.
The story will take you on an emotional and sensory rollercoaster, ranging in tone from sexy to disgusting, and from unsettling to dreadful. All three classical pillars of fear (timor, terror, horror) are engaged. Specifically the tense dread and suspense kept me on the edge of my seat, as I finished this novella in a single sitting. A lot of that dread comes from the intimate way that Morris makes us inhabit the manipulative, obsessive and depraved mind of Lauren, giving the reader that feeling of watching a car-wreck happening in slow motion, from the perspective of the driver themselves.
Speaking of car-wrecks; without spoiling anything, I cannot stop thinking about that final scene...
If anything, this proves that in the hands (and words) of the correct author, you can make any trope work for me. Tiffany Morris surely proved herself to be such an author with this novella.
There are a few tropes that I’d consider my “buzz-kill-words” in books. They are basically the opposite of buzz-words, meaning that if I hear your book contains one of these tropes, I will almost instantly lose interest. A few examples include “amnesia” for mystery, “fae” for fantasy and “cannibalism” for horror.
Carnalis therefore should’ve been a hard miss for me, but I’ll take the occasional risk for my favourite authors and am so happy I did in this case. Tiffany Morris, I think you’ve just written the first/only cannibal-horror-story that I love.
The Story:
In this horror novella we follow the toxic, codependent and potentially dangerous relationship between wealthy party-girl Lauren, and her underprivileged girlfriend Alex, a ballet-dancer recovering from a recent career-threatening injury. Increasingly codependent and toxic, their relationship spirals as Alex uncovers the truth about the exclusive dinner-parties Lauren hosts, and the coop she resources her “ethically sourced meat” from.
What I loved:
Tiffany Morris, in her signature lush, poetic and sensory prose, weaves a remarkably layered tale of consumption and hunger in its various forms, in just over 150 pages. She uses the cannibalism-trope as a vehicle to explore themes of social- racial and class-inequality, relational power dynamics, eating-disorders, the female body and obsession. Rather than becoming oversaturated, Morris makes these various themes sing synergistically into a balanced and impactful whole.
The story will take you on an emotional and sensory rollercoaster, ranging in tone from sexy to disgusting, and from unsettling to dreadful. All three classical pillars of fear (timor, terror, horror) are engaged. Specifically the tense dread and suspense kept me on the edge of my seat, as I finished this novella in a single sitting. A lot of that dread comes from the intimate way that Morris makes us inhabit the manipulative, obsessive and depraved mind of Lauren, giving the reader that feeling of watching a car-wreck happening in slow motion, from the perspective of the driver themselves.
Speaking of car-wrecks; without spoiling anything, I cannot stop thinking about that final scene...
If anything, this proves that in the hands (and words) of the correct author, you can make any trope work for me. Tiffany Morris surely proved herself to be such an author with this novella.
April 12, 2026
A bloody adventure that will satiate your darkest fears and have you cringe at the sound of crunching on (let us say) a little snack. From Green Fuse Burning to Carnalis I am once again enamored by Morris engaging and affluent writing style that will keep you trembling until the very last page. A very sapphic and very lesbian tale packed into this action filled novella. From the first page you are invited into the twisted mind of what this relationship entails. What would be your limit before you run away from your loved ones deepest and darkest secrets?
Think Tender is the Flesh meets a sapphic adventure. Each detail is bloody and beautifully written to disgust your senses. You will find yourself flinching to the extent of detail being so real. A true metaphor for some toxic relationships and the how quickly a relationship can spiral into darkness. I love Morris approach to metaphor’s and the way she creates horror that really resonates with people. These are the stories that stick with you – even for a novella there is so much to think about when it is over.
Morris poetic prose is utterly unique to herself and how she approaches writing. She is underrated in the horror genre and hopes to see more of her narratives soon. She writes with conviction and unapologetically. You bet I checked out every song on her playlist at the end that I did not know. I absolutely enjoyed this one and displaying it right next to my copy of Green Fuse Burning. All opinions are my own.
For tarot readings, recommendations, and reviews, visit my blog https://brujerialibrary.wordpress.com/
Think Tender is the Flesh meets a sapphic adventure. Each detail is bloody and beautifully written to disgust your senses. You will find yourself flinching to the extent of detail being so real. A true metaphor for some toxic relationships and the how quickly a relationship can spiral into darkness. I love Morris approach to metaphor’s and the way she creates horror that really resonates with people. These are the stories that stick with you – even for a novella there is so much to think about when it is over.
Morris poetic prose is utterly unique to herself and how she approaches writing. She is underrated in the horror genre and hopes to see more of her narratives soon. She writes with conviction and unapologetically. You bet I checked out every song on her playlist at the end that I did not know. I absolutely enjoyed this one and displaying it right next to my copy of Green Fuse Burning. All opinions are my own.
For tarot readings, recommendations, and reviews, visit my blog https://brujerialibrary.wordpress.com/
August 13, 2026
like most of my reads, i came away having mixed feelings on this book.
i love lauren’s character to an absurd degree. i love a morally reprehensible lesbian who thinks she’s above people while being a major piece of shit.
i love the system of ‘volunteering’ presented within the book and how it poses questions of consent around death under a capitalistic state (and while i never expected this to get resolved, it sucks the book didn’t chew [ha] on the idea more).
i also think the lesbianism / female sexuality in general was very well written throughout the book. i really liked lauren being a sadomasochist and how those urges became stronger and stronger as she slipped into the far reaches of canada…
SO it felt like a big sucker punch to have lauren’s death be so unerotic (this sounds insane but it’s incredibly common in vampire fiction, which this *isn’t* but the cannibal/vampire parallels will always prevail) there is clearly an attempt at some eroticism but the ending scene overall made me feel like i was in the supernatural fandom watching mr. gay angel face get sent to super hell (let’s just say i was unsurprised to see that the author had a husband in the author’s note).
the prose was also rather distracting at times. i appreciated the author’s poetic influences, but sometimes they felt too intense and like an art house geek was spitting on me.
for all of my critique though, i did really enjoy this story. so many passages and character concepts stuck out to me and i do see myself purchasing a copy (checked this bad boy out from my local library <3) because this authors work does fascinate me (i laughed and gasped out loud several times while reading)
i love lauren’s character to an absurd degree. i love a morally reprehensible lesbian who thinks she’s above people while being a major piece of shit.
i love the system of ‘volunteering’ presented within the book and how it poses questions of consent around death under a capitalistic state (and while i never expected this to get resolved, it sucks the book didn’t chew [ha] on the idea more).
i also think the lesbianism / female sexuality in general was very well written throughout the book. i really liked lauren being a sadomasochist and how those urges became stronger and stronger as she slipped into the far reaches of canada…
SO it felt like a big sucker punch to have lauren’s death be so unerotic (this sounds insane but it’s incredibly common in vampire fiction, which this *isn’t* but the cannibal/vampire parallels will always prevail) there is clearly an attempt at some eroticism but the ending scene overall made me feel like i was in the supernatural fandom watching mr. gay angel face get sent to super hell (let’s just say i was unsurprised to see that the author had a husband in the author’s note).
the prose was also rather distracting at times. i appreciated the author’s poetic influences, but sometimes they felt too intense and like an art house geek was spitting on me.
for all of my critique though, i did really enjoy this story. so many passages and character concepts stuck out to me and i do see myself purchasing a copy (checked this bad boy out from my local library <3) because this authors work does fascinate me (i laughed and gasped out loud several times while reading)
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Review of advance copy received from Author
A masterful investigation of embodied trauma, class exploitation, and the insidious impacts of colonialism, this all-meat story gives the reader plenty to chew on.
In delicious prose, Tiffany Morris delves deep into the horrors of toxic relationships. Carnalis explores relationships to flesh, whether it’s between blood relatives, through sensual encounters, or preparing and consuming meat. Lauren experiences all three in a visceral and destructive way.
Lauren is a compelling villain, holding on to her humanity by a thread. As the stakes increase, Alex begins to suspect that something isn’t quite right about her girlfriend’s nighttime disappearances. Alex’s physical pain and dependence on Lauren is another way that Morris explores the carnal in this extremely well-crafted story.
As tender as it is disturbing, Carnalis will leave you hungry for more.
In delicious prose, Tiffany Morris delves deep into the horrors of toxic relationships. Carnalis explores relationships to flesh, whether it’s between blood relatives, through sensual encounters, or preparing and consuming meat. Lauren experiences all three in a visceral and destructive way.
Lauren is a compelling villain, holding on to her humanity by a thread. As the stakes increase, Alex begins to suspect that something isn’t quite right about her girlfriend’s nighttime disappearances. Alex’s physical pain and dependence on Lauren is another way that Morris explores the carnal in this extremely well-crafted story.
As tender as it is disturbing, Carnalis will leave you hungry for more.
March 10, 2026
Another absolute BANGER of a novel by Tiffany Morris. I'm not shy for my love about books with cannibalism so I was FLOORED when one of my fave authors (TM) reached out and asked if I wanted to ARC read this book!!!! I wanted to highlight SO many things in this. Tiffany has such a way with words that the story sinks its teeth into you and doesn't let go. I was also obsessed with our main character, Lauren. The unhinged (often times unreliable aka my fave) woman that she was. AND THE ENDING?! So good. No doubt this was 5 stars, one of my top reads this month, this year - ALL TIME. Y'all thought I wouldn't shut up about Green Fuse Burning?! That was nothing to the way I'm going to be yelling and yapping about this one.
**Thank you so much Tiffany for an ARC of this with no strings attached, this review is all of my own doing cause I need everyone to be HYPED about this book!
**Thank you so much Tiffany for an ARC of this with no strings attached, this review is all of my own doing cause I need everyone to be HYPED about this book!
May 6, 2026
I absolutely love Tiffany Morris’ writing style. She creates such visceral, vivid horror that you feel within your body, transporting you into the scenes unfolding in the page. Carnalis is a very dark exploration of hunger, of the idea of informed consent in relationships and with the broader world and how its resources are consumed. It also touches domestic abuse, on who/what people are considered disposable, how the rich have their way with those around them.
There were parts of the book that left me with questions, around this broader network of cannibalism and its rules, for instance. I was also confused by what sparked Lauren and Alex to take off from Toronto, and Alex’s perspective on Lauren’s behavior and outbursts. Despite this, the second half of the novella finishes really strong for a truly satisfying conclusion.
There were parts of the book that left me with questions, around this broader network of cannibalism and its rules, for instance. I was also confused by what sparked Lauren and Alex to take off from Toronto, and Alex’s perspective on Lauren’s behavior and outbursts. Despite this, the second half of the novella finishes really strong for a truly satisfying conclusion.
September 3, 2026
4.25 stars: It’s been awhile since a book has left me with so many questions, yet been completely enjoyable. I wish it had been longer and contained more answers, but I still had a great time. The lack of answers felt intentional, not due to poor writing.
Lauren was a fascinating main character. With continued speculation on the activities and source of success of the elite in our world today, this felt especially relevant. Carnal is felt like it could have fit perfectly into the plot of Gossip Girl (the original, obviously) with no questions asked.
I’m looking forward to seeing the discourse surrounding Morris’ novella as it ages. I also think this would be a great choice for a book club!
Lauren was a fascinating main character. With continued speculation on the activities and source of success of the elite in our world today, this felt especially relevant. Carnal is felt like it could have fit perfectly into the plot of Gossip Girl (the original, obviously) with no questions asked.
I’m looking forward to seeing the discourse surrounding Morris’ novella as it ages. I also think this would be a great choice for a book club!
Displaying 1 - 30 of 58 reviews