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Ink Vine and Other Swamp Stories
Stay the hell out of the swamp — the backwater town of Lower Congaree recites it like an eleventh commandment.
Lower Congaree is a backwater of a backwater, a poverty-stricken South Carolina town where nail salons come and go, but the Marine recruitment center never closes. Swamp surrounds it, and strangeness stretches back as far as anyone can remember.
For the first time, Undertaker Books has collected Elizabeth Broadbent’s intertwined Southern Gothic stories, including her linked novella, Ink Vine. Swamp witches and standing stones, battered mansions and shoeless patriarchs, strip clubs and roadside diners—Lower Congaree blossoms with the otherworldly, the bizarre, the outcast and the outside of time.
Ink Vine
“A stunning debut with a narrative voice so strong, you’ll feel the swamp breathing down your neck. Eerie and very moving.”
—Tim McGregor, author of Eynhallow and Wasps in the Ice Cream
When exotic dancer Emmy Joiner escapes to the swamp, she meets beautiful, long-legged Zara, the first girl she dares to kiss. But the small-town South hates a woman who dares to dance instead of plucking chickens for minimum wage. As Emmy’s life falls apart, her relationship with Zara grows more tangled and bizarre. Zara’s offering something beautiful. Its price may be more than Emmy’s willing to pay.
Lower Congaree is a backwater of a backwater, a poverty-stricken South Carolina town where nail salons come and go, but the Marine recruitment center never closes. Swamp surrounds it, and strangeness stretches back as far as anyone can remember.
For the first time, Undertaker Books has collected Elizabeth Broadbent’s intertwined Southern Gothic stories, including her linked novella, Ink Vine. Swamp witches and standing stones, battered mansions and shoeless patriarchs, strip clubs and roadside diners—Lower Congaree blossoms with the otherworldly, the bizarre, the outcast and the outside of time.
Ink Vine
“A stunning debut with a narrative voice so strong, you’ll feel the swamp breathing down your neck. Eerie and very moving.”
—Tim McGregor, author of Eynhallow and Wasps in the Ice Cream
When exotic dancer Emmy Joiner escapes to the swamp, she meets beautiful, long-legged Zara, the first girl she dares to kiss. But the small-town South hates a woman who dares to dance instead of plucking chickens for minimum wage. As Emmy’s life falls apart, her relationship with Zara grows more tangled and bizarre. Zara’s offering something beautiful. Its price may be more than Emmy’s willing to pay.
- GenresHorror
196 pages, Kindle Edition
Published March 6, 2026
1 person is currently reading
19 people want to read
About the author
Elizabeth Broadbent
13 books23 followersElizabeth Broadbent (she/her) left the South Carolina swamps for the Commonwealth of Virginia. She’s the author of Ink Vine (Undertaker Books), Ninety-Eight Sabers (Undertaker Books), Blood Cypress (2025, Raw Dog Screaming Press), and Breaking Neverland (2026, Sley House Publications).
Her speculative fiction has appeared with Hyphenpunk, Tales to Terrify, If There's Anyone Left, Penumbric, and The Cafe Irreal, among other places. During her long career as a journalist, her nonfiction appeared in places such as The Washington Post, Insider, and ADDitude Magazine.
Her speculative fiction has appeared with Hyphenpunk, Tales to Terrify, If There's Anyone Left, Penumbric, and The Cafe Irreal, among other places. During her long career as a journalist, her nonfiction appeared in places such as The Washington Post, Insider, and ADDitude Magazine.
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Displaying 1 - 16 of 16 reviews
March 6, 2026
Love in the time of mosquitoes and bad men
BWAF SINISTER SELECTION
BWAF Score: 8/10
TL;DR: This collection is humid, mean, and gorgeous, like the swamp itself grew a mouth and started telling you bedtime stories with a grin full of teeth. Broadbent’s voice is raw and intimate, her imagery is sticky with rot and lust and rage, and the big centerpiece novella “Ink Vine” lands like a holy punch to the throat.
Elizabeth Broadbent’s foreword makes it clear this isn’t “writer discovers spooky vibes,” it’s a hard pivot built out of loss, relocation, and creative survival: a long journalism career collapsing, the dread of AI decay, and the ache of leaving South Carolina swamp country behind. That background matters because these stories feel like a person dragging home buckets of their own mud, dumping it on the floor, and saying: here, smell this, this is where I’m from. The author bio reinforces that she’s a journalist-turned-speculative writer with a real-world microphone and a horror writer’s nerve, now living away from the swamp with her family and, delightfully, a flock of crows. Let’s be real, though, Broadbent is no stranger to BWAF. Last year’s novella, Blood Cypress, was one of our favorite horror books of 2025. Read that shit!
Plot-wise, most roads lead back to Lower Congaree and its wet, watchful wilderness. You get quick, nasty little parables: in “A Mouthful of Roses,” a recovering young vet stumbles into a twin-shaped trap and the sweetness curdles into ritual rot, with the line about a “twice-dead virgin” hitting like a curse you cannot rinse off. “To Sing is to See” is a writer-in-a-cabin story that refuses the usual cozy bullshit and goes straight to body-cost obsession, using the mantra “to sing is to see” like a hymn you chant right up until the knife turns. “Some Fall,” “Questions a Man Ought Not to Ask,” and “A Living Pentecost” all orbit the same gravitational anger: women being boxed in by men, by churches, by town gossip, by poverty, by the ugly little rules people pretend are natural law. And “Folded in Light” is the teenage-town-rumor version of cosmic folk horror, where a gruesome warning (a guy runs out of the swamp missing a hand) becomes a door, then a dare, then a weirdly tender apocalypse.
The centerpiece novella, “Ink Vine,” (originally published in 2024) is the one that stitches the whole collection into a living thing. Our POV is Emerald “Emmy Ann” Joiner, broke as hell, trapped in a small town that feeds on shame, working nights at a strip club and trying to keep her head above the water and the men. Then she meets Zara Fenwick in the swamp, and the story becomes a romance, a haunting, and a transformation all at once. Zara is not just a person, she’s a presence that feels braided into the land, and Emerald’s want is painfully basic and cosmic at the same time: to be safe, to be herself, to stop being owned. The stakes keep tightening until the novella makes a sharp, ugly choice: Emerald’s rage turns literal, turns physical, turns vine-strong. The climax is written with that awful clarity stories rarely earn, with Emerald refusing to be renamed or managed ever again: “You’re not gonna tell me who I am.” It’s brutal, it’s tragic, and it’s also a grim little coronation.
Broadbent makes the swamp a moral force without turning it into a Hallmark nature sermon. The land is not “pure,” it’s not “evil,” it’s hungry and old and honest. The town is full of jailers, and the swamp is the only thing that doesn’t bullshit Emerald about the price of freedom. When she finally chooses Zara and the green-dark belonging over the human world’s small cruelty, Broadbent drops one of the collection’s most memorable lines: “Swamp was an ugly word, short and fat,” and then dares you to feel how beautiful that ugliness can be when it stops apologizing for existing.
Broadbent’s prose has that nasty-sweet rhythm where a sentence can be tender, funny, and vile in the same breath. She’s great at close first-person heat, the kind that makes you feel sweat in your armpits and hear cicadas grinding their teeth. She also understands escalation. These stories don’t just “get spooky,” they get personal, then bodily, then spiritual, then irreversible. Even the shorter pieces have a clean spine and a sharp final shove. When she wants to go lyrical, she does, but she’s not precious about it. She’ll give you beauty, then immediately smear it with mud and blood, because that is the point.
Autonomy in a rigged world: who gets to name you, who gets to touch you, who gets to decide what you are allowed to want. The horror expresses that through possession, metamorphosis, and appetite. Sometimes the cost is horrific, sometimes it’s liberating, often it’s both in the same damn moment. “Swamp Girl” is basically the collection’s feral mirror: a watcher-creature hating humans for their greed, then softening toward one girl who moves quietly through the woods, longing for connection but terrified of being known. It lingers like a footprint you find in wet soil and cannot explain.
As a collection, this feels like a statement of territory. The foreword frames Broadbent’s return to swamp country on the page as both homecoming and exorcism, and the stories back it up by being relentlessly regional without ever feeling small. “Ink Vine” especially reads like the work that levels her up from “great short story voice” to “this person has a whole fucked-up ecosystem in their head.”
It’s excellent because it’s weird and ambitious and memorable, and because it’s willing to be ugly when ugliness is the only honest route to freedom.
Read if you crave Southern Gothic that’s sweaty, horny, angry, and sincere.
Skip if you require a safe distance from class rage, religious fire, and swamp-magic teeth.
BWAF SINISTER SELECTION
BWAF Score: 8/10
TL;DR: This collection is humid, mean, and gorgeous, like the swamp itself grew a mouth and started telling you bedtime stories with a grin full of teeth. Broadbent’s voice is raw and intimate, her imagery is sticky with rot and lust and rage, and the big centerpiece novella “Ink Vine” lands like a holy punch to the throat.
Elizabeth Broadbent’s foreword makes it clear this isn’t “writer discovers spooky vibes,” it’s a hard pivot built out of loss, relocation, and creative survival: a long journalism career collapsing, the dread of AI decay, and the ache of leaving South Carolina swamp country behind. That background matters because these stories feel like a person dragging home buckets of their own mud, dumping it on the floor, and saying: here, smell this, this is where I’m from. The author bio reinforces that she’s a journalist-turned-speculative writer with a real-world microphone and a horror writer’s nerve, now living away from the swamp with her family and, delightfully, a flock of crows. Let’s be real, though, Broadbent is no stranger to BWAF. Last year’s novella, Blood Cypress, was one of our favorite horror books of 2025. Read that shit!
Plot-wise, most roads lead back to Lower Congaree and its wet, watchful wilderness. You get quick, nasty little parables: in “A Mouthful of Roses,” a recovering young vet stumbles into a twin-shaped trap and the sweetness curdles into ritual rot, with the line about a “twice-dead virgin” hitting like a curse you cannot rinse off. “To Sing is to See” is a writer-in-a-cabin story that refuses the usual cozy bullshit and goes straight to body-cost obsession, using the mantra “to sing is to see” like a hymn you chant right up until the knife turns. “Some Fall,” “Questions a Man Ought Not to Ask,” and “A Living Pentecost” all orbit the same gravitational anger: women being boxed in by men, by churches, by town gossip, by poverty, by the ugly little rules people pretend are natural law. And “Folded in Light” is the teenage-town-rumor version of cosmic folk horror, where a gruesome warning (a guy runs out of the swamp missing a hand) becomes a door, then a dare, then a weirdly tender apocalypse.
The centerpiece novella, “Ink Vine,” (originally published in 2024) is the one that stitches the whole collection into a living thing. Our POV is Emerald “Emmy Ann” Joiner, broke as hell, trapped in a small town that feeds on shame, working nights at a strip club and trying to keep her head above the water and the men. Then she meets Zara Fenwick in the swamp, and the story becomes a romance, a haunting, and a transformation all at once. Zara is not just a person, she’s a presence that feels braided into the land, and Emerald’s want is painfully basic and cosmic at the same time: to be safe, to be herself, to stop being owned. The stakes keep tightening until the novella makes a sharp, ugly choice: Emerald’s rage turns literal, turns physical, turns vine-strong. The climax is written with that awful clarity stories rarely earn, with Emerald refusing to be renamed or managed ever again: “You’re not gonna tell me who I am.” It’s brutal, it’s tragic, and it’s also a grim little coronation.
Broadbent makes the swamp a moral force without turning it into a Hallmark nature sermon. The land is not “pure,” it’s not “evil,” it’s hungry and old and honest. The town is full of jailers, and the swamp is the only thing that doesn’t bullshit Emerald about the price of freedom. When she finally chooses Zara and the green-dark belonging over the human world’s small cruelty, Broadbent drops one of the collection’s most memorable lines: “Swamp was an ugly word, short and fat,” and then dares you to feel how beautiful that ugliness can be when it stops apologizing for existing.
Broadbent’s prose has that nasty-sweet rhythm where a sentence can be tender, funny, and vile in the same breath. She’s great at close first-person heat, the kind that makes you feel sweat in your armpits and hear cicadas grinding their teeth. She also understands escalation. These stories don’t just “get spooky,” they get personal, then bodily, then spiritual, then irreversible. Even the shorter pieces have a clean spine and a sharp final shove. When she wants to go lyrical, she does, but she’s not precious about it. She’ll give you beauty, then immediately smear it with mud and blood, because that is the point.
Autonomy in a rigged world: who gets to name you, who gets to touch you, who gets to decide what you are allowed to want. The horror expresses that through possession, metamorphosis, and appetite. Sometimes the cost is horrific, sometimes it’s liberating, often it’s both in the same damn moment. “Swamp Girl” is basically the collection’s feral mirror: a watcher-creature hating humans for their greed, then softening toward one girl who moves quietly through the woods, longing for connection but terrified of being known. It lingers like a footprint you find in wet soil and cannot explain.
As a collection, this feels like a statement of territory. The foreword frames Broadbent’s return to swamp country on the page as both homecoming and exorcism, and the stories back it up by being relentlessly regional without ever feeling small. “Ink Vine” especially reads like the work that levels her up from “great short story voice” to “this person has a whole fucked-up ecosystem in their head.”
It’s excellent because it’s weird and ambitious and memorable, and because it’s willing to be ugly when ugliness is the only honest route to freedom.
Read if you crave Southern Gothic that’s sweaty, horny, angry, and sincere.
Skip if you require a safe distance from class rage, religious fire, and swamp-magic teeth.
Review of advance copy
Disclaimer: I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
Set in the fictional town of Lower Congaree, these stories examine a South Carolina town and the people living in it from multiple perspectives. From an old man remembering a fateful day of his youth to a witch giving birth, these interweaving stories explore the lives of those who live beside and sometimes in the swamp lands. Varying in length from flash fiction piece to novella not all pieces here managed to bewitch me by themselves, but all added up to create a lush and haunting reading experience which manages to paint the landscape the characters are viewing vividly. My favorite story was Ink Vine, a story following a young woman, who falls in love with another woman she meets in the swamp, not just because its portrayal of female sexuality and bisexuality in a small southern town, but also because the way it examined the life of Emerald in such incredibly intriguing detail, making her and the town feel alive.
Having read and enjoyed Blood Cypress by the same author before I knew I had to pick this one up and I am so happy to say it definitely holds up to my high hopes and manages to be a fascinating collection of Southern Gothic horror. If you enjoy cursed family clans or prefer to see how the outsider looking down on the town folk fares when he’s unable to look beyond his prejudice, you need to pick this collection up and get to know Lower Congaree and it’s many dark stories. For my part, I know I have found an author whose work I need to keep an eye on.
A Mouthful of Roses: A young man, recently discharged from the army after injury, is sent to stay with his aunt in South Carolina to recover. An invitation to meet two sisters soon goes awry when they seem much more interested in tales of his near-death experience than anything else. Short, but lyrical and a I loved the horror elements slowly seeping into the story.
TW: death, murder, violence
To Sing is to See: A writer finds themselves isolated with the bats in their chimney and soon becomes convinced they are communicating. Told in short vignettes as they spiral into their grisly end. Dark and with great atmosphere, but I would have loved for this to be a bit longer.
TW: blood, gore, suicide
Some Fall: A midwife gives birth. Supported by her husband and her own knowledge, everything should be fine. But when everything goes wrong, the couple find themselves having to make a desperate decision. I love the atmosphere created and depictions of the forces of nature here, it was very short, but haunting.
TW: birth, death, gore
Questions a Man Ought Not to Ask: A young man interested in local folklore finds himself trying to fit in with the locals. He catches the eye of a young midwife, and they soon build a life together. But his distrust of the crows she cares for causes tension. Haunting, dark and finally with a bit of a deeper dive into the small-town Lower Congaree, this was a very intriguing gothic story.
TW: death, domestic abuse, murder, violence
Babylon Burning: A family torn apart by war finds that even those left behind at home cannot find peace when a stranger is found among them and the grandmother finds a release for her anger. One of two men left behind, twelve-year-old Town plays an important role on this fateful day. Haunting and dark, this one hits in particular through its casual cruelty that stuck with me even after finishing this one.
TW: antiblack-slurs, fire, misogyny, murder, slavery, violence
For Thine is the Kingdom: After a young girl asking for help from the father of the man who impregnated her is rebuffed cruelly, the family finds itself haunted by her curse. Great southern gothic horror, I really enjoyed this short story.
TW: death, sexism
A Living Pentecost: A short story about a young pregnant girl in church, who finds herself capable of wielding a burning spirit of revenge. A piece of flash fiction, fueled with rage and very intriguing.
TW: death, fire, sexism
Ink Vine: A queer southern gothic novella, this story follows Emerald as she earns her living in a strip club, while stuck in her mother’s trailer at the edge of the swamp. When she meets a girl while walking in the swamp one day, she has to decide between sticking with what she knows and the dangerous, seductive desire that beckons her. Haunting, beautiful, deliciously sapphic, this is a gorgeous piece of southern gothic swamp horror, both the longest and my favorite story in this anthology. Emerald’s desire for a better life, her struggles with her family’s and the town’s small-mindedness and the freedom (and danger) she finds in the swamp are
enthralling. Deeply atmospheric and very tense, this novella was an utter pleasure to read.
TW: biphobia, lesbophobia, murder, sexual assault, violence
Swamp Girl: A girl from the swamp watches the people who visit her domain, until she finds a girl, who she finally wants to reveal herself to. A fun companion piece to Ink Vine, I liked this one.
Folded in Light: Three high school kids decide to investigate the swamp after a man lost his arm and mind inside. Short, but with an intriguing ending.
TW: death, injury
Set in the fictional town of Lower Congaree, these stories examine a South Carolina town and the people living in it from multiple perspectives. From an old man remembering a fateful day of his youth to a witch giving birth, these interweaving stories explore the lives of those who live beside and sometimes in the swamp lands. Varying in length from flash fiction piece to novella not all pieces here managed to bewitch me by themselves, but all added up to create a lush and haunting reading experience which manages to paint the landscape the characters are viewing vividly. My favorite story was Ink Vine, a story following a young woman, who falls in love with another woman she meets in the swamp, not just because its portrayal of female sexuality and bisexuality in a small southern town, but also because the way it examined the life of Emerald in such incredibly intriguing detail, making her and the town feel alive.
Having read and enjoyed Blood Cypress by the same author before I knew I had to pick this one up and I am so happy to say it definitely holds up to my high hopes and manages to be a fascinating collection of Southern Gothic horror. If you enjoy cursed family clans or prefer to see how the outsider looking down on the town folk fares when he’s unable to look beyond his prejudice, you need to pick this collection up and get to know Lower Congaree and it’s many dark stories. For my part, I know I have found an author whose work I need to keep an eye on.
A Mouthful of Roses: A young man, recently discharged from the army after injury, is sent to stay with his aunt in South Carolina to recover. An invitation to meet two sisters soon goes awry when they seem much more interested in tales of his near-death experience than anything else. Short, but lyrical and a I loved the horror elements slowly seeping into the story.
TW: death, murder, violence
To Sing is to See: A writer finds themselves isolated with the bats in their chimney and soon becomes convinced they are communicating. Told in short vignettes as they spiral into their grisly end. Dark and with great atmosphere, but I would have loved for this to be a bit longer.
TW: blood, gore, suicide
Some Fall: A midwife gives birth. Supported by her husband and her own knowledge, everything should be fine. But when everything goes wrong, the couple find themselves having to make a desperate decision. I love the atmosphere created and depictions of the forces of nature here, it was very short, but haunting.
TW: birth, death, gore
Questions a Man Ought Not to Ask: A young man interested in local folklore finds himself trying to fit in with the locals. He catches the eye of a young midwife, and they soon build a life together. But his distrust of the crows she cares for causes tension. Haunting, dark and finally with a bit of a deeper dive into the small-town Lower Congaree, this was a very intriguing gothic story.
TW: death, domestic abuse, murder, violence
Babylon Burning: A family torn apart by war finds that even those left behind at home cannot find peace when a stranger is found among them and the grandmother finds a release for her anger. One of two men left behind, twelve-year-old Town plays an important role on this fateful day. Haunting and dark, this one hits in particular through its casual cruelty that stuck with me even after finishing this one.
TW: antiblack-slurs, fire, misogyny, murder, slavery, violence
For Thine is the Kingdom: After a young girl asking for help from the father of the man who impregnated her is rebuffed cruelly, the family finds itself haunted by her curse. Great southern gothic horror, I really enjoyed this short story.
TW: death, sexism
A Living Pentecost: A short story about a young pregnant girl in church, who finds herself capable of wielding a burning spirit of revenge. A piece of flash fiction, fueled with rage and very intriguing.
TW: death, fire, sexism
Ink Vine: A queer southern gothic novella, this story follows Emerald as she earns her living in a strip club, while stuck in her mother’s trailer at the edge of the swamp. When she meets a girl while walking in the swamp one day, she has to decide between sticking with what she knows and the dangerous, seductive desire that beckons her. Haunting, beautiful, deliciously sapphic, this is a gorgeous piece of southern gothic swamp horror, both the longest and my favorite story in this anthology. Emerald’s desire for a better life, her struggles with her family’s and the town’s small-mindedness and the freedom (and danger) she finds in the swamp are
enthralling. Deeply atmospheric and very tense, this novella was an utter pleasure to read.
TW: biphobia, lesbophobia, murder, sexual assault, violence
Swamp Girl: A girl from the swamp watches the people who visit her domain, until she finds a girl, who she finally wants to reveal herself to. A fun companion piece to Ink Vine, I liked this one.
Folded in Light: Three high school kids decide to investigate the swamp after a man lost his arm and mind inside. Short, but with an intriguing ending.
TW: death, injury
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
Ink Vine and Other Swamp Stories is a collection of short stories and one novella set in and around the swampy South Carolina town of Lower Congaree. I’ve settled on a 3-star rating overall as this is both my rating for the novella and roughly the average of the other stories.
I’ll talk about Ink Vine first, the titular novella which Broadbent originally released as a standalone in 2024. It follows Emmy, an exotic dancer trying to claw her way out of poverty in a town where she will never be accepted, both for her career choice and for her queerness. One day she meets beautiful, mysterious Zara in the forbidden swampland behind her home, and everything begins to change.
This should’ve been right up my alley: weird, sapphic, botanical horror is basically my ideal read. And there were quite a few things that I liked here: I found the premise unique and the plot to be engaging all the way through, leading me to greedily finish this novella in one sitting. Both main settings – the swamp and the dance club – were well-written and had some vivid descriptions. The swamp was especially well done and felt very alive, teeming with birds and bugs and plants of all kinds.
Where Ink Vine let me down was in the characters, who all felt very two-dimensional aside from Emmy and Zara. Mean for the sake of being mean; creepy for the sake of being creepy. The majority, such as Emmy’s sister and mother, felt like they only existed to further the plot, rather than being real residents of Lower Congaree with their own goals, desires, likes and dislikes. As the climax of the novel approaches, the mean character is extra mean, and the creepy character is extra creepy, and you just can’t really be surprised or shocked at all because they’ve been doing this for the entire novella. There are also some clunky word choices here and there, which is a very minor complaint and thankfully not present in any of the other stories in this collection.
As for the other stories, they were a bit of a mixed bag. My personal highlights were Some Fall and Questions a Man Ought Not to Ask, which focus on Lower Congaree’s generation of witches. I liked the magical elements as well as the interconnected elements in the two stories.
I found that many of the other stories suffered from being too brief, and at times, too abstract. A Mouthful of Roses was enjoyable but could have been just a bit longer in order to better build suspense.
Overall, this was a fascinating collection of works ranging from novellas to micro-fiction. Although not every story worked for me, I respect the effort and love put into developing the setting of Lower Congaree by Broadbent. I think this book would resonate more with Southern Gothic fans, or just those who are more familiar with the American South than I am.
Disclaimer: I received an advance review copy for free, and am leaving this review voluntarily.
I’ll talk about Ink Vine first, the titular novella which Broadbent originally released as a standalone in 2024. It follows Emmy, an exotic dancer trying to claw her way out of poverty in a town where she will never be accepted, both for her career choice and for her queerness. One day she meets beautiful, mysterious Zara in the forbidden swampland behind her home, and everything begins to change.
This should’ve been right up my alley: weird, sapphic, botanical horror is basically my ideal read. And there were quite a few things that I liked here: I found the premise unique and the plot to be engaging all the way through, leading me to greedily finish this novella in one sitting. Both main settings – the swamp and the dance club – were well-written and had some vivid descriptions. The swamp was especially well done and felt very alive, teeming with birds and bugs and plants of all kinds.
Where Ink Vine let me down was in the characters, who all felt very two-dimensional aside from Emmy and Zara. Mean for the sake of being mean; creepy for the sake of being creepy. The majority, such as Emmy’s sister and mother, felt like they only existed to further the plot, rather than being real residents of Lower Congaree with their own goals, desires, likes and dislikes. As the climax of the novel approaches, the mean character is extra mean, and the creepy character is extra creepy, and you just can’t really be surprised or shocked at all because they’ve been doing this for the entire novella. There are also some clunky word choices here and there, which is a very minor complaint and thankfully not present in any of the other stories in this collection.
As for the other stories, they were a bit of a mixed bag. My personal highlights were Some Fall and Questions a Man Ought Not to Ask, which focus on Lower Congaree’s generation of witches. I liked the magical elements as well as the interconnected elements in the two stories.
I found that many of the other stories suffered from being too brief, and at times, too abstract. A Mouthful of Roses was enjoyable but could have been just a bit longer in order to better build suspense.
Overall, this was a fascinating collection of works ranging from novellas to micro-fiction. Although not every story worked for me, I respect the effort and love put into developing the setting of Lower Congaree by Broadbent. I think this book would resonate more with Southern Gothic fans, or just those who are more familiar with the American South than I am.
Disclaimer: I received an advance review copy for free, and am leaving this review voluntarily.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
Ten incredibly sensual, but also sad and nostalgic, tales make up this beautifully written collection - set in a fictional South Carolina small town, the book's brimming with Southern Gothic vibes coupled with a very strong of place, thematically hovering somewhere between horror and dark fantasy, on the one hand, and magical realism and romance, on the other. Essentially it's meditative dark fiction, the bittersweet humanity of it all interwoven with the otherwordliness of the swamp, over the sound of the cicadas. There's something haunting and, well, tender (for lack of a better word), permeating the collection, on the background of cruelty, poverty, and injustice.
The stories occasionally cross each other, all varying in length and subject-matter: for example, "To Sing is to See" (are you worthy enough to be a bat?) and "A Living Pentecost" (the divinity of burning) are both very short, whereas "Ink Vine" is a novella. By the way, the novella, a tale of sapphic love and internal tranformation, was first published on its own in 2024, is by far the best part of the collection, and has justifiably been lauded as a LGBTQ themed dark fairytale.
I also recommend the opening story, "A Mouthful of Roses," a creepy tale with unsettling notes of weird erotica, about a awkward, recently discharged soldier visiting his neighbors who happen to be young twin sisters, and discovering what they're really interesting in; "Questions a Man Ought Not to Ask," a young midwife doubling as a witch takes in a student of local lore, the couple goes through its ups and downs till the witch's idea of justice proves too much for the poor, clueless guy; and "Swamp Girl," a tiny gem of a story, complementing"Ink Vine" wonderfully.
In sum: a solid, charmingly eclectic collection blending the darkly romantic and the uncanny with unapologetic family drama and distasteful backwater Southern values. Highly recommended!
The stories occasionally cross each other, all varying in length and subject-matter: for example, "To Sing is to See" (are you worthy enough to be a bat?) and "A Living Pentecost" (the divinity of burning) are both very short, whereas "Ink Vine" is a novella. By the way, the novella, a tale of sapphic love and internal tranformation, was first published on its own in 2024, is by far the best part of the collection, and has justifiably been lauded as a LGBTQ themed dark fairytale.
I also recommend the opening story, "A Mouthful of Roses," a creepy tale with unsettling notes of weird erotica, about a awkward, recently discharged soldier visiting his neighbors who happen to be young twin sisters, and discovering what they're really interesting in; "Questions a Man Ought Not to Ask," a young midwife doubling as a witch takes in a student of local lore, the couple goes through its ups and downs till the witch's idea of justice proves too much for the poor, clueless guy; and "Swamp Girl," a tiny gem of a story, complementing"Ink Vine" wonderfully.
In sum: a solid, charmingly eclectic collection blending the darkly romantic and the uncanny with unapologetic family drama and distasteful backwater Southern values. Highly recommended!
February 20, 2026
Man, y’all just don’t know what you’re missing. I can’t believe I’m the first review on this one. I’ve read most of Elizabeth Broadbent’s southern gothic horror and really vibed with it. She’s from South Carolina which isn’t fair at all from my native Georgia and I really appreciate the way in which she very accurately can capture the way in which the worst attributes of humanity continue to detract from the South’s physical beauty. I had no idea Broadbent wrote for Scary Mommy but all three of my kids were born within her reign so I’m sure I’ve read some of her articles (in the middle of the night with babies who refuse sleep.) Ink Vine and Other Swamp Stories js a collection of stories that range from flash fiction to more novelette territory. All of the stories revolve around the fictional town of Lower Congaree which reminds me very much of some of the rural NW Georgia towns I used to deliver mail in. People hear the word poverty but I don’t think you can truly grasp the destitution until you visit some of these places.
Broadbent has crafted dimension so thoroughly that when you finish the collection it feels like stepping out of Lower Congaree after spending decades there. The stories are cleverly interwoven and build upon each other to bring the characters to life. I enjoyed all the stories and definitely think Broadbent shines with her brand of folksy gothic horror. Ink Vine was the longest story which definitely gave it legs and sucked me in. Emerald was a well crafted character and the entire Joiner clan felt authentic. Broadbent is within her element in the southern gothic genre and you’ll feel the humidity on your skin and feel the moss underneath your fingers if you give this one a go.
Broadbent has crafted dimension so thoroughly that when you finish the collection it feels like stepping out of Lower Congaree after spending decades there. The stories are cleverly interwoven and build upon each other to bring the characters to life. I enjoyed all the stories and definitely think Broadbent shines with her brand of folksy gothic horror. Ink Vine was the longest story which definitely gave it legs and sucked me in. Emerald was a well crafted character and the entire Joiner clan felt authentic. Broadbent is within her element in the southern gothic genre and you’ll feel the humidity on your skin and feel the moss underneath your fingers if you give this one a go.
March 6, 2026
In Ink Vine and Other Swamp Stories, Elizabeth Broadbent take us on a trip to Lower Congaree. A poverty-stricken South Carolina town surrounded by swamp and sadness. Lucky for me, I was able to read an ARC copy, and meet the inhabitants of Lower Congaree early.
There are 9 stories and one novella in this collection, and it would be worth it for the novella alone. In Ink Vine, we meet Emmy Joiner, an exotic dancer who desperately wants nothing more than to be allowed to be herself and not whoever everyone expects her to be. That one is also a sapphic romance that is achingly beautiful and tragic all at once.
Each of the other 9 stories have that same beauty and ache to them. Southern gothic to the core, and embodies a wistful nostalgia for anyone who may have grown up in that type of small town.
You'll see recurring characters moving in and out of the stories, each one making you wish you could follow them a little bit longer and get to know them a little bit better.
The only story in here that wasn't a perfect 5 star from me was To Sing is to See. While it was a perfectly wonderful story of its own, it just doesn't have the same feel (to me) as the rest of the tales in this collection.
There are 9 stories and one novella in this collection, and it would be worth it for the novella alone. In Ink Vine, we meet Emmy Joiner, an exotic dancer who desperately wants nothing more than to be allowed to be herself and not whoever everyone expects her to be. That one is also a sapphic romance that is achingly beautiful and tragic all at once.
Each of the other 9 stories have that same beauty and ache to them. Southern gothic to the core, and embodies a wistful nostalgia for anyone who may have grown up in that type of small town.
You'll see recurring characters moving in and out of the stories, each one making you wish you could follow them a little bit longer and get to know them a little bit better.
The only story in here that wasn't a perfect 5 star from me was To Sing is to See. While it was a perfectly wonderful story of its own, it just doesn't have the same feel (to me) as the rest of the tales in this collection.
March 28, 2026
Elizabeth Broadbent conjures up an intertwined journey through the Lower Congaree swamps of South Carolina in her haunting collection, INK VINE AND OTHER SWAMP STORIES. Her characters are relentlessly challenged with consequences of their actions as much as the reader is immersed in a world that feels lived in, chaotic, and overflowing with humanity.
The tales are harrowing but thought provoking. The use of pregnancy and birth as a gruesome cycle of life along with crows, witches, and other mystical manifestations are core hallmarks in Southern folklore and used to great effect throughout INK VINE.
The Lower Congaree setting is a character of its own that haunts the pages of this book. The location anchors the vignettes like a string binding them together. INK VINE AND OTHER SWAMP STORIES incorporates an expert use of folklore with a contemporary edge.
With Southern gothic flavor and a hint of literary flare, INK VINE AND OTHER SWAMP STORIES is a riveting collection and Elizabeth Broadbent has constructed a series of tales that read like a storyteller passing traditional mythos from the swamp down to a new generation.
I received an advanced reader copy of this book and this did not inform my review of the book.
The tales are harrowing but thought provoking. The use of pregnancy and birth as a gruesome cycle of life along with crows, witches, and other mystical manifestations are core hallmarks in Southern folklore and used to great effect throughout INK VINE.
The Lower Congaree setting is a character of its own that haunts the pages of this book. The location anchors the vignettes like a string binding them together. INK VINE AND OTHER SWAMP STORIES incorporates an expert use of folklore with a contemporary edge.
With Southern gothic flavor and a hint of literary flare, INK VINE AND OTHER SWAMP STORIES is a riveting collection and Elizabeth Broadbent has constructed a series of tales that read like a storyteller passing traditional mythos from the swamp down to a new generation.
I received an advanced reader copy of this book and this did not inform my review of the book.
Review of advance copy
I absolutely loved Ink Vine and Other Swamp Stories by Elizabeth Broadbent. This brilliant collection of gothic short stories grabbed my attention from the very first page and never fully let me go.
The opening story, “A Mouthful of Roses” was one of my favourites in the entire collection. It sets the tone perfectly lush, haunting and emotionally sharp. Broadbent has a way of weaving beauty and brutality together so seamlessly that I often felt sad, angry and strangely moved all at once.
I especially adored the sapphic story “Ink Vine.” It was beautifully heart-wrenching, tender and aching in all the right ways. The atmosphere throughout the collection is thick and immersive you can almost feel the damp air of the swamp clinging to every page.
That said, not every story resonated with me. A few were more hit-or-miss, and didn’t connect as deeply on a personal level. But even the ones that didn’t fully land still carried Broadbent’s distinctive gothic voice and vivid imagery.
Overall, this is a powerful, atmospheric collection that lingers long after you finish it.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
The opening story, “A Mouthful of Roses” was one of my favourites in the entire collection. It sets the tone perfectly lush, haunting and emotionally sharp. Broadbent has a way of weaving beauty and brutality together so seamlessly that I often felt sad, angry and strangely moved all at once.
I especially adored the sapphic story “Ink Vine.” It was beautifully heart-wrenching, tender and aching in all the right ways. The atmosphere throughout the collection is thick and immersive you can almost feel the damp air of the swamp clinging to every page.
That said, not every story resonated with me. A few were more hit-or-miss, and didn’t connect as deeply on a personal level. But even the ones that didn’t fully land still carried Broadbent’s distinctive gothic voice and vivid imagery.
Overall, this is a powerful, atmospheric collection that lingers long after you finish it.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
Review of advance copy
From the moment the book began, I was already entranced by the note to the reader, knowing that Broadbent was writing not knowing where the words would land, but in hope of connection.
The way Broadbent invokes the strong connection to the land, the surrounding elements of the flora and fauna, in each of her stories makes the visual elements come to life. I live in the deep bayous of Louisiana, so a lot of the stories made me feel right at home. I could picture the roads weaving around the swamps, I could hears the cicadas singing their songs.
While this is a collection of stories, Ink Vine is the story that spoke to me the loudest and I highlighted up and down.
Without revealing too much, the character is one I can relate to more than ever at this time in my life, finding your voice, realizing it can serve you in all the ways you need it to, and discovering who you are and fully embracing it when you feel you have nothing left to lose.
This was my first exposure to Broadbent’s work and I cannot wait to dive into more.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
The way Broadbent invokes the strong connection to the land, the surrounding elements of the flora and fauna, in each of her stories makes the visual elements come to life. I live in the deep bayous of Louisiana, so a lot of the stories made me feel right at home. I could picture the roads weaving around the swamps, I could hears the cicadas singing their songs.
While this is a collection of stories, Ink Vine is the story that spoke to me the loudest and I highlighted up and down.
Without revealing too much, the character is one I can relate to more than ever at this time in my life, finding your voice, realizing it can serve you in all the ways you need it to, and discovering who you are and fully embracing it when you feel you have nothing left to lose.
This was my first exposure to Broadbent’s work and I cannot wait to dive into more.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
Eliza Broadbent has some of the most beautiful prose I've ever read, and I will die on that hill. I swear to God I could read her grocery list and be extremely happy for it.
I'm so happy that I could explore Lower Congaree again. It's such a beautifully magical place, warts and all. Broadbent has a way of making even the dark sides seem nostalgic and make me miss experiences that I've never had.
Ink Vine and Other Swamp Stories is a love letter to everything special that the swamp can be while still showcasing the very real intolerance and ugliness that can still be found in the Deep South. While not the traditional spooky, full throttle horror that you expect from the genre, Broadbent's love and care for the Lower Congaree make the bitterness and hatred shown by some of her characters that much more horrifying.
I really hope to see more stories set here because I am definitely not done with the swamp, and I don't think it's done with me.
I'm so happy that I could explore Lower Congaree again. It's such a beautifully magical place, warts and all. Broadbent has a way of making even the dark sides seem nostalgic and make me miss experiences that I've never had.
Ink Vine and Other Swamp Stories is a love letter to everything special that the swamp can be while still showcasing the very real intolerance and ugliness that can still be found in the Deep South. While not the traditional spooky, full throttle horror that you expect from the genre, Broadbent's love and care for the Lower Congaree make the bitterness and hatred shown by some of her characters that much more horrifying.
I really hope to see more stories set here because I am definitely not done with the swamp, and I don't think it's done with me.
March 1, 2026
Ten pure southern gothic stories set in South Carolina in the fictional town of Lower Congaree. A mix of short stories and novellas, this is a rich collection that gives an overarching sense of the place, it is hot, humid, oozing and as unforgiving as the swampland that surrounds the town.
A returning soldier receives more than just a warm welcome, bats in the chimney, a pregnant midwife and her choice, the crows see all, a family decimated by war react to a stranger, a curse on you, a fiery rage, keep out of the swamp. a deliciously sapphic story of prejudice and love, the girl in the swamp.
These stories are beautifully evocative and transport you to another place where normal rules do not apply with Lower Congaree as the main character and she does not disappoint.
A returning soldier receives more than just a warm welcome, bats in the chimney, a pregnant midwife and her choice, the crows see all, a family decimated by war react to a stranger, a curse on you, a fiery rage, keep out of the swamp. a deliciously sapphic story of prejudice and love, the girl in the swamp.
These stories are beautifully evocative and transport you to another place where normal rules do not apply with Lower Congaree as the main character and she does not disappoint.
Review of advance copy
I really enjoyed this collection of short stories. There is a really strong sense of place in these stories, they could only have occurred in this town with these characters. The horror elements are varied between stories, but all of them are very well integrated into the overall plot. The characters are interesting and allowed to really drive each story. This collection is well organized and engaging. While there was some variation in my enjoyment of each story, I really liked the collection as a whole, and no story felt like a glaring weak spot. Thank you BookSirens for my review copy!
March 7, 2026
I hadn't read a short story collection in a while, especially revolving around the horror genre. However, I really enjoyed these stories and I think you will, also. Give it a shot.
All stories are set in the south. That vibe is obvious without being greedy. The stories are also triumphantly sapphic. The vibe had me wishing I was visiting my family during the holidays.
Beautifully written, with a hint of reality and agony, "Ink Vine and other Swamp Stories" will be your next page turner. Diverse yet collective in it's southern familiarity. I'm glad I picked it up.
All stories are set in the south. That vibe is obvious without being greedy. The stories are also triumphantly sapphic. The vibe had me wishing I was visiting my family during the holidays.
Beautifully written, with a hint of reality and agony, "Ink Vine and other Swamp Stories" will be your next page turner. Diverse yet collective in it's southern familiarity. I'm glad I picked it up.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
I could not love Elizabeth Broadbent's writing more. There's so much beauty woven into the horror, honestly, a masterclass in gorgeous writing.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
This is a unique collection that captures location, people, and atmosphere better than most of what I've read (in general). Absolutely gorgeous writing.
March 26, 2026
Great collection of southern gothic horror.
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