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Loba
The Hacienda meets The Haunting of Alejandra in this split timeline gothic horror novel set in a remote lighthouse on the edge of Uruguay, following one woman's escape from an abusive marriage... and into a haunting.
She’s not the first lighthouse keeper to lose her mind on the shores of Cabo Polonio, but she’s determined to be the first to survive it.
Delmira Torres knows fleeing to Brazil is the only way she’ll be free of her abusive husband. But to get there she’ll need money; it’s why she takes a posting at a lighthouse in Cabo Polonio, Uruguay, a small town where time doesn’t seem to move quite right.
There, she has only a month until her husband and her secrets catch up to her. But the position comes marred by the legend of La Loba, who stalks the lighthouse and the nearby fishing village, and by the spiraling visions that begin to plague Delmira.
A century earlier, Amalia arrives at the same lighthouse. Held captive and desperate to escape her dire situation, her story may hold the answers to Delmira’s torment.
Both of them, desperate for freedom and determined to survive, must find a way to outlive the horrors of Cabo Polonio.
She’s not the first lighthouse keeper to lose her mind on the shores of Cabo Polonio, but she’s determined to be the first to survive it.
Delmira Torres knows fleeing to Brazil is the only way she’ll be free of her abusive husband. But to get there she’ll need money; it’s why she takes a posting at a lighthouse in Cabo Polonio, Uruguay, a small town where time doesn’t seem to move quite right.
There, she has only a month until her husband and her secrets catch up to her. But the position comes marred by the legend of La Loba, who stalks the lighthouse and the nearby fishing village, and by the spiraling visions that begin to plague Delmira.
A century earlier, Amalia arrives at the same lighthouse. Held captive and desperate to escape her dire situation, her story may hold the answers to Delmira’s torment.
Both of them, desperate for freedom and determined to survive, must find a way to outlive the horrors of Cabo Polonio.
337 pages, Kindle Edition
Published November 10, 2026
About the author
Valentina Cano Repetto
2 books158 followersBorn in Uruguay to Italian and Latino parents and having lived in Miami, FL, for twenty-three years, I have now made my home in a secluded Victorian watermill in Italy that is ripe with history. I'm the author of other books that you can find under the name Valentina Cano.
My debut novel, The Rose Master (2014- REUTS Publications, LLC.) was called “a strong, satisfying effort” by Publishers Weekly and my latest novel, SANCTUARY, will be out on April 16th, 2024.
My debut novel, The Rose Master (2014- REUTS Publications, LLC.) was called “a strong, satisfying effort” by Publishers Weekly and my latest novel, SANCTUARY, will be out on April 16th, 2024.
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Displaying 1 - 20 of 20 reviews
November 10, 2026
Loba was a sleeper success for me! I wasn't expecting to enjoy it nearly as much as I did, but it completely draw me in when I least expected it. I listened to the entire audiobook in a single day, which is impressive considering audio-only is not my preferred reading mode. I often struggle to maintain attention and fully absorb what's happening when solely listening to a story, but thanks to narrator Brenda Arteaga-Walsh's phenomenal performance, I didn't have that problem.
Set against the remote, windswept coastline of Cabo Polonio, Uruguay, Loba delivers a wonderfully immersive gothic experience. The isolated lighthouse, crashing sea, and local wildlife created a damp, littoral sense of place that was prominent in every aspect of the story. Cano Repetto's prose is evocative and beautifully descriptive, filled with vivid imagery and emotionally charged language. She has a real talent for creating sensory immersion.
I was so fascinated by the novel's use of costal folklore. Cano Repetto reimagines selkie legends through the lens of South American sea lions, or lobos marinos (literally, sea wolves), rather than the more familiar depictions in Irish and Scottish mythology. It's such a distinct and refreshing approach to folklore that gave the novel an identity all its own. The story sent me down a rabbit hole researching sea lions in Uruguay and around Cabo Polonio, which is home to thriving colonies of marine mammals. I loved discovering more about the real-world coastal landscape and wildlife that inform the novel. The blending of regional folklore, animal-world danger, and supernatural hauntings was extremely effective for me.
Loba also had a lot of emotional depth in its exploration of misogyny, domestic abuse, captivity, and autonomy. Through two timelines, we follow Delmira in 1951, as she attempts to escape to the lighthouse to get away from her abusive husband, and Amalia in 1852, who is being held captive at that same lighthouse. Separated by a century, both women experience different forms of oppression and struggle against the limitations imposed on them by men. Their parallel stories create an intriguing sense of mystery and anticipation as connections between their experiences gradually emerge. Both protagonists were compelling in their own right, and I found myself feeling a genuine sense of solidarity with them as they fought for their freedom and survival. Of the two timelines, I enjoyed Amalia’s (1852) a little more because her journey was especially devastating to me. This may be a very niche comparison, but it was a mix of Chlorine by Jade Song and the character Antonia from season 4 of the TV series True Blood.
My one criticism of Loba is that the pacing falters, particularly around the middle 30% of the book. While I remained invested in the characters, setting, and overall atmosphere, the narrative momentum wasn't always as consistent as I would have liked. I'm not entirely sure whether cutting certain sections would have necessarily resolved the issue, but I do think some passages could have been condensed to keep the story moving more steadily.
Despite the pacing issue, I thought Loba was an incredible read! It combines captivating gothic coastal atmosphere, haunting South American folklore, feminist themes, and an eerie supernatural mystery into something that feels both distinctive and memorable. It's a novel that surprised me in the best possible way, and I'm so glad I picked it up. I'm already looking forward to reading Cano Repetto's other novel, Sanctuary, very soon!
I highly recommend Loba to readers who enjoyed The Burial Tide by Neil Sharpson, The Folly by Gemma Amor, and A Haunting in the Arctic by C.J. Cooke.
Set against the remote, windswept coastline of Cabo Polonio, Uruguay, Loba delivers a wonderfully immersive gothic experience. The isolated lighthouse, crashing sea, and local wildlife created a damp, littoral sense of place that was prominent in every aspect of the story. Cano Repetto's prose is evocative and beautifully descriptive, filled with vivid imagery and emotionally charged language. She has a real talent for creating sensory immersion.
I was so fascinated by the novel's use of costal folklore. Cano Repetto reimagines selkie legends through the lens of South American sea lions, or lobos marinos (literally, sea wolves), rather than the more familiar depictions in Irish and Scottish mythology. It's such a distinct and refreshing approach to folklore that gave the novel an identity all its own. The story sent me down a rabbit hole researching sea lions in Uruguay and around Cabo Polonio, which is home to thriving colonies of marine mammals. I loved discovering more about the real-world coastal landscape and wildlife that inform the novel. The blending of regional folklore, animal-world danger, and supernatural hauntings was extremely effective for me.
Loba also had a lot of emotional depth in its exploration of misogyny, domestic abuse, captivity, and autonomy. Through two timelines, we follow Delmira in 1951, as she attempts to escape to the lighthouse to get away from her abusive husband, and Amalia in 1852, who is being held captive at that same lighthouse. Separated by a century, both women experience different forms of oppression and struggle against the limitations imposed on them by men. Their parallel stories create an intriguing sense of mystery and anticipation as connections between their experiences gradually emerge. Both protagonists were compelling in their own right, and I found myself feeling a genuine sense of solidarity with them as they fought for their freedom and survival. Of the two timelines, I enjoyed Amalia’s (1852) a little more because her journey was especially devastating to me. This may be a very niche comparison, but it was a mix of Chlorine by Jade Song and the character Antonia from season 4 of the TV series True Blood.
My one criticism of Loba is that the pacing falters, particularly around the middle 30% of the book. While I remained invested in the characters, setting, and overall atmosphere, the narrative momentum wasn't always as consistent as I would have liked. I'm not entirely sure whether cutting certain sections would have necessarily resolved the issue, but I do think some passages could have been condensed to keep the story moving more steadily.
Despite the pacing issue, I thought Loba was an incredible read! It combines captivating gothic coastal atmosphere, haunting South American folklore, feminist themes, and an eerie supernatural mystery into something that feels both distinctive and memorable. It's a novel that surprised me in the best possible way, and I'm so glad I picked it up. I'm already looking forward to reading Cano Repetto's other novel, Sanctuary, very soon!
I highly recommend Loba to readers who enjoyed The Burial Tide by Neil Sharpson, The Folly by Gemma Amor, and A Haunting in the Arctic by C.J. Cooke.
November 12, 2026
Rtc. Read via libro.fm alc
November 13, 2026
I feel alone in this, but after 65 pages (5 chapters), I DNFed this. The writing is good and it does have that Gothic edge, but I just couldn't get into this story.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
I received this ARC from NetGalley in exchange for a fair review.
A dual-timeline ghost story set on the coast of Uruguay, Loba is a powerful story of escaping domestic violence and generational trauma.
I love lighthouses and the sea, so that was my initial draw to this story, and I did not expect to be so blown away by how powerful and mesmerizing this story is. It begins with Delmira, in the 1950s, who has shown up to crew the lighthouse in her husband’s absence, and we learn right from the start she only plans to be here long enough to collect a few weeks' pay, so she can escape him. The haunting aspects start right away, as there’s something going on in the lighthouse, but also with the lobos on the island - the sea lions.
A little while later, we are introduced to the story of Amalia, who is chained up in her husband’s hut and who believes she is a selkie. Of course, her husband does not let her near the sea to obtain her pelt.
So, we have two women in similar but very different situations - they are trapped and want to run, but cannot. Delmira needs money to escape to Brazil and Amalia is physically held. What’s fascinating about this book is how the women are in parallel circumstances but it’s not repetitive. Delmira keeps it all inside, tries to hide, whereas Amalia is a spitfire and full of rage. Both have an ally on the island, but how it unravels is very different.
The ghost aspect - at least in terms of jump scares or Delmira experiencing hauntings - is quite minimal. The really scary parts involve, well, the men in both these women’s lives, and the complicity of the townspeople. In truth, this book feels like a condemnation of people who know, suspect, or witness domestic violence and do nothing. As usual, the real horror is society.
The writing is great - it moves at a great pace but doesn’t feel rushed. The tone and atmosphere are spot on, maintaining a balance between dreary, dread, and creepy, and while it’s not scary, it’s definitely tense. Partially because Delmira and Amalia are two protagonists you have to cheer for. While they aren’t deep - this isn’t a psychological horror - you want both of them to escape so badly, and the book never makes this seem like a sure thing - and I won’t tell you whether there’s a happy ending or not.
The other characters are few, but help tie everything together, with some interesting twists.
The sea lions are wonderful characters - there is one in particular who has personality, and you worry so much for the animals. The descriptions of them are lovingly written.
Overall, this book took me by surprise and didn’t let go. Highly recommended.
A dual-timeline ghost story set on the coast of Uruguay, Loba is a powerful story of escaping domestic violence and generational trauma.
I love lighthouses and the sea, so that was my initial draw to this story, and I did not expect to be so blown away by how powerful and mesmerizing this story is. It begins with Delmira, in the 1950s, who has shown up to crew the lighthouse in her husband’s absence, and we learn right from the start she only plans to be here long enough to collect a few weeks' pay, so she can escape him. The haunting aspects start right away, as there’s something going on in the lighthouse, but also with the lobos on the island - the sea lions.
A little while later, we are introduced to the story of Amalia, who is chained up in her husband’s hut and who believes she is a selkie. Of course, her husband does not let her near the sea to obtain her pelt.
So, we have two women in similar but very different situations - they are trapped and want to run, but cannot. Delmira needs money to escape to Brazil and Amalia is physically held. What’s fascinating about this book is how the women are in parallel circumstances but it’s not repetitive. Delmira keeps it all inside, tries to hide, whereas Amalia is a spitfire and full of rage. Both have an ally on the island, but how it unravels is very different.
The ghost aspect - at least in terms of jump scares or Delmira experiencing hauntings - is quite minimal. The really scary parts involve, well, the men in both these women’s lives, and the complicity of the townspeople. In truth, this book feels like a condemnation of people who know, suspect, or witness domestic violence and do nothing. As usual, the real horror is society.
The writing is great - it moves at a great pace but doesn’t feel rushed. The tone and atmosphere are spot on, maintaining a balance between dreary, dread, and creepy, and while it’s not scary, it’s definitely tense. Partially because Delmira and Amalia are two protagonists you have to cheer for. While they aren’t deep - this isn’t a psychological horror - you want both of them to escape so badly, and the book never makes this seem like a sure thing - and I won’t tell you whether there’s a happy ending or not.
The other characters are few, but help tie everything together, with some interesting twists.
The sea lions are wonderful characters - there is one in particular who has personality, and you worry so much for the animals. The descriptions of them are lovingly written.
Overall, this book took me by surprise and didn’t let go. Highly recommended.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
Loba is a standalone, supernatural, gothic horror with a split timeline. In 1951, Delmira runs away from her abusive husband to the lighthouse in Uruguay, and in 1852, Amalia is held captive there. There was a real tension to the book, and the switches between the two FMCs were perfectly placed. I found Delmira and Amalia's POVs equally powerful. The pace really increased as the book progressed, and by the end it was frantic, and had my heart beating fast.
Loba is a book that I consumed in one session, unable to put it down or to predict anything that was going to happen next. I'd definitely recommend this tense and atmospheric horror, which is driven by the injustice that women face in any time period.
Disclaimer: I received an Advance Reader Copy from NetGalley, but this is my voluntary and honest review.
Loba is a book that I consumed in one session, unable to put it down or to predict anything that was going to happen next. I'd definitely recommend this tense and atmospheric horror, which is driven by the injustice that women face in any time period.
Disclaimer: I received an Advance Reader Copy from NetGalley, but this is my voluntary and honest review.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Thanks to Netgalley and Angry Robot for the ARC!
A lot of books claim to be about female rage, but Loba is one of the few I’ve read that wholly and unflinchingly walks the walk. Cano Repetto never lets you forget, not even for an instant, how twisted the patriarchy is. This makes the book a heavy read in places, but it’s definitely a fantastic achievement.
This book genuinely made me want to kill the majority of the male characters with hammers! This story is a real shriek of anger and defiance against the patriarchy and it never backs down in that. I love that it pulls no punches and shoves it right in your face. It made me feel a lot, even if not all of it was good, but the ending - though not 100% happy - made it feel like everything was worth it in some way.
I really loved Amalia’s story the most. She goes through so much, but in the end she gets both revenge and a release, an understanding, even if it can never make up for all the hurt she suffered. I was also so fascinated by the question of whether she was actually a sea lion selkie or not. The fact that supernatural things are going on in this village primes the reader to think that her story of losing her pelt might be true, but her memories, and the question of whether they’re real, make us question. I love that the author plays with our expectations in that way!
The last 40% of the book was the stand-out section to me; it was pacey and visceral and I loved the ending. Not everything ends up being happy, but some things, at least, are settled. Delmira gets something of a happy ending, living on for those who couldn’t get there.
I thought this book had a really interesting sense of place, and the village itself is a really weirdly quirky little setting. I do wish the author had dug into this just a little bit more, maybe by giving Delmira the time and space to explore, or lingering on the details of the area around the lighthouse and how exactly it related to the village, to build a clearer picture in my mind.
I also thought the horror we got, especially at the beginning, was super creepy. Hearing the lighthouse chains rattling and odd voices from downstairs while no one is there were such good touches! I think this could have been given much more space and developed much further, building up the horror and growing dread of the haunting a more before moving on to the rest of the plot. It never quite felt like Delmira was scared enough of the prospect of the ghost, even over 50% of the way into the book, primarily because other more real threats kept cropping up (i.e. in the form of the other lighthouse keepers or the villagers). These haunting parts end up feeling weirdly glossed over or tacked on for a large portion of the book. The other lighthouse keepers were introduced too early, distracting from the slow build-up of horror (and then sat around doing a whole lot of nothing before finally launching their plan, when it felt like they should’ve started threatening Delmira with it the second they arrived); I think I would’ve liked this book more if Delmira had successfully gotten herself a temporary reprieve from male violence, only to ironically find herself suffering a haunting (that would’ve balanced better with Amalia’s scenes as well, where male violence was the prime focus).
I found myself going back and forth on whether this really needed to be a book with two full POVs or not. I liked the interwoven stories and how they came together in the end, but I feel like we ended up spending too much time with Amalia and not enough with Delmira. As much as I loved Amalia, some of her scenes became just a little repetitive. Her scenes should’ve been cut down to the most essential ones, or Delmira’s needed to be expanded. I wanted to see more of the slow growth of horror, more of Delmira realising what was going on, more trying to settle into the village, more of her exploring this place and learning about it’s people. Delmira’s shift between being completely dismissive of the haunting and “La Loba” into believing it came very quickly and mostly as a result of others’ influence, when I really wanted her to be finding things out for herself, or going through a period of questioning what was real before coming to the belief. We got the bones of that, but it felt rushed.
Also, while the villagers eventually betraying Delmira makes a lot of sense and was an angle I really liked, it wasn’t foreshadowed at all, which made it feel like it came completely out of left field for the reader! The villagers all seem jumpy about “La Loba,” but there’s no real hints they have any designs against Delmira herself until the very end; this makes their flip seem very sudden, even if it makes sense in hindsight.
Overall, none of these quibbles make me think Loba is a bad book; far from it! Cano Repetto’s prose throughout was really nice, very engaging and readable. The story has loads to like and I ended up satisfied by the plot and the ending. It’s more that I could see an even better book lurking under the surface, which we could’ve got with a few tweaks or a few more pages. Still, Loba is absolutely worth your time and a super impressive book that I’m glad to have had a chance to read!
A lot of books claim to be about female rage, but Loba is one of the few I’ve read that wholly and unflinchingly walks the walk. Cano Repetto never lets you forget, not even for an instant, how twisted the patriarchy is. This makes the book a heavy read in places, but it’s definitely a fantastic achievement.
This book genuinely made me want to kill the majority of the male characters with hammers! This story is a real shriek of anger and defiance against the patriarchy and it never backs down in that. I love that it pulls no punches and shoves it right in your face. It made me feel a lot, even if not all of it was good, but the ending - though not 100% happy - made it feel like everything was worth it in some way.
I really loved Amalia’s story the most. She goes through so much, but in the end she gets both revenge and a release, an understanding, even if it can never make up for all the hurt she suffered. I was also so fascinated by the question of whether she was actually a sea lion selkie or not. The fact that supernatural things are going on in this village primes the reader to think that her story of losing her pelt might be true, but her memories, and the question of whether they’re real, make us question. I love that the author plays with our expectations in that way!
The last 40% of the book was the stand-out section to me; it was pacey and visceral and I loved the ending. Not everything ends up being happy, but some things, at least, are settled. Delmira gets something of a happy ending, living on for those who couldn’t get there.
I thought this book had a really interesting sense of place, and the village itself is a really weirdly quirky little setting. I do wish the author had dug into this just a little bit more, maybe by giving Delmira the time and space to explore, or lingering on the details of the area around the lighthouse and how exactly it related to the village, to build a clearer picture in my mind.
I also thought the horror we got, especially at the beginning, was super creepy. Hearing the lighthouse chains rattling and odd voices from downstairs while no one is there were such good touches! I think this could have been given much more space and developed much further, building up the horror and growing dread of the haunting a more before moving on to the rest of the plot. It never quite felt like Delmira was scared enough of the prospect of the ghost, even over 50% of the way into the book, primarily because other more real threats kept cropping up (i.e. in the form of the other lighthouse keepers or the villagers). These haunting parts end up feeling weirdly glossed over or tacked on for a large portion of the book. The other lighthouse keepers were introduced too early, distracting from the slow build-up of horror (and then sat around doing a whole lot of nothing before finally launching their plan, when it felt like they should’ve started threatening Delmira with it the second they arrived); I think I would’ve liked this book more if Delmira had successfully gotten herself a temporary reprieve from male violence, only to ironically find herself suffering a haunting (that would’ve balanced better with Amalia’s scenes as well, where male violence was the prime focus).
I found myself going back and forth on whether this really needed to be a book with two full POVs or not. I liked the interwoven stories and how they came together in the end, but I feel like we ended up spending too much time with Amalia and not enough with Delmira. As much as I loved Amalia, some of her scenes became just a little repetitive. Her scenes should’ve been cut down to the most essential ones, or Delmira’s needed to be expanded. I wanted to see more of the slow growth of horror, more of Delmira realising what was going on, more trying to settle into the village, more of her exploring this place and learning about it’s people. Delmira’s shift between being completely dismissive of the haunting and “La Loba” into believing it came very quickly and mostly as a result of others’ influence, when I really wanted her to be finding things out for herself, or going through a period of questioning what was real before coming to the belief. We got the bones of that, but it felt rushed.
Also, while the villagers eventually betraying Delmira makes a lot of sense and was an angle I really liked, it wasn’t foreshadowed at all, which made it feel like it came completely out of left field for the reader! The villagers all seem jumpy about “La Loba,” but there’s no real hints they have any designs against Delmira herself until the very end; this makes their flip seem very sudden, even if it makes sense in hindsight.
Overall, none of these quibbles make me think Loba is a bad book; far from it! Cano Repetto’s prose throughout was really nice, very engaging and readable. The story has loads to like and I ended up satisfied by the plot and the ending. It’s more that I could see an even better book lurking under the surface, which we could’ve got with a few tweaks or a few more pages. Still, Loba is absolutely worth your time and a super impressive book that I’m glad to have had a chance to read!
Review of advance copy
Thank you to Libro.FM for the early copy of this incredible audiobook. Loba looks at the story of two abused women trying to get out of their awful situations in a gothic horror twist.
There was something so consistently bewitching and heartwrenching about the characters in this story. Seeing the kindness with which the author treats the depiction of these abuse victims warmed me. I am so glad to have been able to read this.
There was something so consistently bewitching and heartwrenching about the characters in this story. Seeing the kindness with which the author treats the depiction of these abuse victims warmed me. I am so glad to have been able to read this.
September 4, 2026
This is a hell of a swing of a horror novel. We get a gothic lighthouse horror, about a woman who comes to a remote lighthouse in Uruguay to escape her shitty husband, as she's trying to find something deeply special to her - a particular pelt. We get a horror take on the selkie bride archetype, and the horror of domestic violence and seal killing besides. It's brutal, but worth your time when it comes in November.
September 22, 2026
I read an eARC of this book on NetGalley so thank you to the author and the publisher.
This was a wonderfully creepy novel. It’s a historical horror novel. There’s two timelines, one hundred years apart and it takes place in Uruguay. The core to this book focuses on lighthouses and sea lions and it works beautifully.
I’d read books relating to Selkie folklore before, mostly set in Ireland and Scotland. But I’d never seen one for Sea Lions before and it is brilliant! The sea lions have a real physical presence and they are significant predators. They can cause real damage to humans and they present a threat. But the threat is mutual. With humans wanting to hunt these valuable animals. This tension with nature added such a rich dimension to the novel.
There’s some incredible horror coming from the supernatural and the animal world. But the threat of course also comes from humans, as it always does in the best horror novels. We follow two women one hundred years apart. Both of whom find their freedom significantly curtailed by the actions and desires of men. The women face dangerous and desperate situations, unable to trust people, facing significant risk. Though they are separated by time, they still have so few options.
This was really easy to fly through. It’s so creepy. You don’t know what’s going to happen and it’s so hard to know who to trust. A very clever and atmospheric horror novel.
This was a wonderfully creepy novel. It’s a historical horror novel. There’s two timelines, one hundred years apart and it takes place in Uruguay. The core to this book focuses on lighthouses and sea lions and it works beautifully.
I’d read books relating to Selkie folklore before, mostly set in Ireland and Scotland. But I’d never seen one for Sea Lions before and it is brilliant! The sea lions have a real physical presence and they are significant predators. They can cause real damage to humans and they present a threat. But the threat is mutual. With humans wanting to hunt these valuable animals. This tension with nature added such a rich dimension to the novel.
There’s some incredible horror coming from the supernatural and the animal world. But the threat of course also comes from humans, as it always does in the best horror novels. We follow two women one hundred years apart. Both of whom find their freedom significantly curtailed by the actions and desires of men. The women face dangerous and desperate situations, unable to trust people, facing significant risk. Though they are separated by time, they still have so few options.
This was really easy to fly through. It’s so creepy. You don’t know what’s going to happen and it’s so hard to know who to trust. A very clever and atmospheric horror novel.
Review of advance copy received from Author
I couldn't put this book down!
"Loba is a haunting, feverish gothic horror that sinks its teeth into questions of womanhood and survival. Set against the windswept isolation of a Uruguayan lighthouse, amid the eerie cries of sea lions and the weight of local legend, it conjures visceral dread, an unforgettable sense of place, and two narrators whose unraveling keeps every page charged with uncertainty. Weaving together history and horror with remarkable skill, it is a deeply humane novel about what women endure, what they inherit, and the fierce courage required to imagine another future."
-A.T. Rainach, author of The Art of Living Forever
"Loba is a haunting, feverish gothic horror that sinks its teeth into questions of womanhood and survival. Set against the windswept isolation of a Uruguayan lighthouse, amid the eerie cries of sea lions and the weight of local legend, it conjures visceral dread, an unforgettable sense of place, and two narrators whose unraveling keeps every page charged with uncertainty. Weaving together history and horror with remarkable skill, it is a deeply humane novel about what women endure, what they inherit, and the fierce courage required to imagine another future."
-A.T. Rainach, author of The Art of Living Forever
November 13, 2026
I’ve been on a quest to read more books set in South America, as well as more horror, and these two aims converged in Loba by Valentina Cano Repetto. Set on the coast of Uruguay, at the easternmost lighthouse in the country, it follows two timelines of a remote village. Cabo Polonio is known for its sea lions (lobos marinos), but its curse is kept secret from outsiders. In 1852, Amalia is a young woman trapped with a cruel man. She claims to be a loba (sea lion), and she needs only to find her pelt to be free of these villagers who call her crazy. A century later, in 1951, Delmira is a wife on the run from domestic abuse. Her husband is a lighthouse keeper, but she’s gone ahead of him to their next destination, in Cabo Polonio. She plans to work in the lighthouse for a month and earn enough money to escape for Brazil before her husband can stop her. But the lighthouse is a dangerous place, and La Loba will cause Delmira to go mad and succumb to death if she’s not careful.
What I Liked:
- Escaping domestic abuse. The most prominent theme in Loba is the pattern of cruelty and violence that men inflict on women. Amalia is kept in chains and barely has enough food and water to survive. Delmira has been beaten by her husband for a decade. This is a painful book to read, and I’d caution readers who are sensitive to such themes. And yet I appreciated it for its unflinching portrayal not just of the evil in this world, but of the way our two main characters fight back. Can either escape before it’s too late? When no one, not even your neighbors and so-called friends, are willing to help, how can a woman find safety and freedom?
- Disorientation of time and memory. Cabo Polonio doesn’t experience time the same way most of us do. Sometimes the hours speed up or slow down; the ocean’s tide doesn’t follow a normal schedule. The characters’ sense of reality is called into question a lot. If she sees a ship crashing into the rocks, is it really there? What about these false memories of someone else’s life pushing to the surface of her mind? Hallucinations, the so-called luz mala, the ocean as its own character… This book makes everything feel slippery and unreal, adding to the Gothic horror of this remote beach setting.
- Selkies and lost treasure. Amalia claims to be a selkie, a loba whose pelt has been kept away from her. She doesn’t belong in this human form, and she fears that she’ll lose her loba self entirely if she doesn’t return to the sea in time. No one believes her… but maybe the shipwrecked captain Diego does. He’s looking for a century-old treasure chest. Can Amalia and Diego both find what they’re looking for? Or are their aims in opposition from the start?
- Amalia and Delmira are each vividly drawn. They have a lot in common in terms of suffering abuse from men. But where Amalia is feral and describes things through her sense of nature, Delmira is cagey and focused only on escape. Amalia’s mind is faltering, whether from madness or a lost sense of self. Delmira’s been psychologically abused (in addition to physically abused), and has internalized the narrative that she’s stupid. Both women have been broken down so much, and yet each fights in her own way.
- Sea lions. I enjoyed the prominent role the sea lions (lobos) play throughout the novel. They can be dangerous, but they can be protective, too. Jacinto is the only villager who cares about them, and I loved his close connection with the animals, especially the one loba in particular.
Final Thoughts
Loba is a powerful and heartbreaking novel about cruelty, survival, and the lines between supernatural phenomena and madness. The setting and characters jump off the page, and the disorienting writing makes for a truly disturbing read. I had to take my time with this one, but the final 100 pages flew by. Check trigger warnings before reading, but if you dare, Loba is a stunning and memorable Gothic tale.
Special thanks to Angry Robot and NetGalley for providing me with an ARC of this book!
* Please read my full review on my blog, Amanda's Book Corner! *
What I Liked:
- Escaping domestic abuse. The most prominent theme in Loba is the pattern of cruelty and violence that men inflict on women. Amalia is kept in chains and barely has enough food and water to survive. Delmira has been beaten by her husband for a decade. This is a painful book to read, and I’d caution readers who are sensitive to such themes. And yet I appreciated it for its unflinching portrayal not just of the evil in this world, but of the way our two main characters fight back. Can either escape before it’s too late? When no one, not even your neighbors and so-called friends, are willing to help, how can a woman find safety and freedom?
- Disorientation of time and memory. Cabo Polonio doesn’t experience time the same way most of us do. Sometimes the hours speed up or slow down; the ocean’s tide doesn’t follow a normal schedule. The characters’ sense of reality is called into question a lot. If she sees a ship crashing into the rocks, is it really there? What about these false memories of someone else’s life pushing to the surface of her mind? Hallucinations, the so-called luz mala, the ocean as its own character… This book makes everything feel slippery and unreal, adding to the Gothic horror of this remote beach setting.
- Selkies and lost treasure. Amalia claims to be a selkie, a loba whose pelt has been kept away from her. She doesn’t belong in this human form, and she fears that she’ll lose her loba self entirely if she doesn’t return to the sea in time. No one believes her… but maybe the shipwrecked captain Diego does. He’s looking for a century-old treasure chest. Can Amalia and Diego both find what they’re looking for? Or are their aims in opposition from the start?
- Amalia and Delmira are each vividly drawn. They have a lot in common in terms of suffering abuse from men. But where Amalia is feral and describes things through her sense of nature, Delmira is cagey and focused only on escape. Amalia’s mind is faltering, whether from madness or a lost sense of self. Delmira’s been psychologically abused (in addition to physically abused), and has internalized the narrative that she’s stupid. Both women have been broken down so much, and yet each fights in her own way.
- Sea lions. I enjoyed the prominent role the sea lions (lobos) play throughout the novel. They can be dangerous, but they can be protective, too. Jacinto is the only villager who cares about them, and I loved his close connection with the animals, especially the one loba in particular.
Final Thoughts
Loba is a powerful and heartbreaking novel about cruelty, survival, and the lines between supernatural phenomena and madness. The setting and characters jump off the page, and the disorienting writing makes for a truly disturbing read. I had to take my time with this one, but the final 100 pages flew by. Check trigger warnings before reading, but if you dare, Loba is a stunning and memorable Gothic tale.
Special thanks to Angry Robot and NetGalley for providing me with an ARC of this book!
* Please read my full review on my blog, Amanda's Book Corner! *
October 31, 2026
For fans of: Gothic horror, dual timelines, haunted lighthouses, folklore, strong female characters, historical fiction, and atmospheric settings.
I absolutely loved this book! I went into Loba expecting a creepy, atmospheric ghost story, but what I got was something so much deeper. This was a beautiful, haunting story about survival, domestic violence, generational trauma, and the lengths women will go to reclaim their freedom.
Set along the coast of Uruguay, the story follows two women living a century apart whose lives are connected by a mysterious lighthouse in Cabo Polonio.
In the 1950s, Delmira Torres takes a job as a lighthouse keeper while secretly planning to escape her abusive husband. She needs enough money to flee to Brazil and start over, but her time at the lighthouse becomes increasingly unsettling as she begins experiencing strange visions and encounters with the legend of La Loba.
A century earlier, we meet Amalia, a woman being held captive by her husband who believes she is a selkie. Her husband keeps her away from the ocean and the very thing that could give her freedom. I found Amalia’s storyline particularly heartbreaking because of how physically trapped she was, while Delmira’s circumstances showed how someone can be trapped even when they appear to have the freedom to leave.
I loved how the author connected these two women without making their experiences feel repetitive. They were both fighting for survival, but their personalities and the ways they responded to their circumstances were completely different. Amalia’s anger and determination contrasted beautifully with Delmira’s quieter attempts to escape.
One of my favorite aspects of this book was the incorporation of folklore, particularly the legend of La Loba and the references to selkies. I also loved the sea lions! They added something so unique to the setting, and I appreciated how much attention the author gave them.
The atmosphere was incredible. The isolated lighthouse, the ocean, the fishing village, and the strange things happening around Delmira created this constant feeling of unease. I could practically picture the waves crashing against the shore and the loneliness of being surrounded by so much water with nowhere to go.
What surprised me most was that the supernatural elements weren’t necessarily the scariest part of the story. The real horror came from the violence these women experienced and the people around them who knew what was happening but chose to look away. I thought that was such a powerful part of the book, especially because it showed how abuse can continue when an entire community remains silent.
I also really enjoyed the pacing and the way the two timelines gradually came together. Every time we returned to Amalia’s story, I felt like I understood Delmira’s experiences a little better. The mystery kept me invested, but it was the emotional weight of both women’s stories that made this such a memorable read.
Definitely one of those books that stays with you after you finish it. I can’t wait to read more from Valentina Cano Repetto!
I absolutely loved this book! I went into Loba expecting a creepy, atmospheric ghost story, but what I got was something so much deeper. This was a beautiful, haunting story about survival, domestic violence, generational trauma, and the lengths women will go to reclaim their freedom.
Set along the coast of Uruguay, the story follows two women living a century apart whose lives are connected by a mysterious lighthouse in Cabo Polonio.
In the 1950s, Delmira Torres takes a job as a lighthouse keeper while secretly planning to escape her abusive husband. She needs enough money to flee to Brazil and start over, but her time at the lighthouse becomes increasingly unsettling as she begins experiencing strange visions and encounters with the legend of La Loba.
A century earlier, we meet Amalia, a woman being held captive by her husband who believes she is a selkie. Her husband keeps her away from the ocean and the very thing that could give her freedom. I found Amalia’s storyline particularly heartbreaking because of how physically trapped she was, while Delmira’s circumstances showed how someone can be trapped even when they appear to have the freedom to leave.
I loved how the author connected these two women without making their experiences feel repetitive. They were both fighting for survival, but their personalities and the ways they responded to their circumstances were completely different. Amalia’s anger and determination contrasted beautifully with Delmira’s quieter attempts to escape.
One of my favorite aspects of this book was the incorporation of folklore, particularly the legend of La Loba and the references to selkies. I also loved the sea lions! They added something so unique to the setting, and I appreciated how much attention the author gave them.
The atmosphere was incredible. The isolated lighthouse, the ocean, the fishing village, and the strange things happening around Delmira created this constant feeling of unease. I could practically picture the waves crashing against the shore and the loneliness of being surrounded by so much water with nowhere to go.
What surprised me most was that the supernatural elements weren’t necessarily the scariest part of the story. The real horror came from the violence these women experienced and the people around them who knew what was happening but chose to look away. I thought that was such a powerful part of the book, especially because it showed how abuse can continue when an entire community remains silent.
I also really enjoyed the pacing and the way the two timelines gradually came together. Every time we returned to Amalia’s story, I felt like I understood Delmira’s experiences a little better. The mystery kept me invested, but it was the emotional weight of both women’s stories that made this such a memorable read.
Definitely one of those books that stays with you after you finish it. I can’t wait to read more from Valentina Cano Repetto!
November 10, 2026
Some horror stories frighten you with what might be waiting in the dark. Others make you wonder whether the dark is really the most frightening thing in the room. Loba, by Valentina Cano Repetto, does both, and it does them beautifully.
On the isolated coast of Cabo Polonio, Uruguay, two women live a century apart on the same patch of rock. In 1852, Amalia is held captive, certain she is a sea lion whose skin has been stolen from her. In 1951, Delmira arrives to keep the lighthouse, carrying wounds of her own and a plan to disappear. What binds them is a presence rooted in the sea, a local legend, and a history that refuses to stay buried.
The dual timeline is the book’s great engine. Amalia is never just background. She has her own voice, her own rage and her own claim on the story. As the two narratives draw closer, their echoes become deeply unsettling, until you realize the book has been building a machine all along, with these two women inside it.
The setting is extraordinary. The lighthouse, the dunes, the caves and the restless Atlantic feel almost conscious, and the sea becomes a character with a memory and a temper. The folklore feels fresh and distinctly Uruguayan, a welcome break from the familiar European gothic.
But the most frightening thing in Loba is human. Delmira’s story of abuse and slow recovery is written with real care, and her relationship with Jacinto shows how strange simple kindness can feel to someone who has spent years bracing for cruelty. Cano Repetto never turns her characters into simple victims or heroes, and the ending honors everything the book has built without explaining away its mysteries.
Atmospheric, intelligent, and emotionally devastating, Loba is a blend of gothic horror, folklore and historical fiction that is far more than a monster story. It’s one of the best books I’ve read this year.
The monster may come from the sea, but the darkness that gives this story its teeth is unmistakably human.
I received a complimentary copy from the author. All opinions are my own.
On the isolated coast of Cabo Polonio, Uruguay, two women live a century apart on the same patch of rock. In 1852, Amalia is held captive, certain she is a sea lion whose skin has been stolen from her. In 1951, Delmira arrives to keep the lighthouse, carrying wounds of her own and a plan to disappear. What binds them is a presence rooted in the sea, a local legend, and a history that refuses to stay buried.
The dual timeline is the book’s great engine. Amalia is never just background. She has her own voice, her own rage and her own claim on the story. As the two narratives draw closer, their echoes become deeply unsettling, until you realize the book has been building a machine all along, with these two women inside it.
The setting is extraordinary. The lighthouse, the dunes, the caves and the restless Atlantic feel almost conscious, and the sea becomes a character with a memory and a temper. The folklore feels fresh and distinctly Uruguayan, a welcome break from the familiar European gothic.
But the most frightening thing in Loba is human. Delmira’s story of abuse and slow recovery is written with real care, and her relationship with Jacinto shows how strange simple kindness can feel to someone who has spent years bracing for cruelty. Cano Repetto never turns her characters into simple victims or heroes, and the ending honors everything the book has built without explaining away its mysteries.
Atmospheric, intelligent, and emotionally devastating, Loba is a blend of gothic horror, folklore and historical fiction that is far more than a monster story. It’s one of the best books I’ve read this year.
The monster may come from the sea, but the darkness that gives this story its teeth is unmistakably human.
I received a complimentary copy from the author. All opinions are my own.
November 10, 2026
The cover of this one drew me in with its pretty greens; thank you to NetGalley and Angry Robot for the advanced digital copy.
Delmira Torres flees to a remote Uruguayan lighthouse to escape her abusive husband but encounters La Loba and visions linking her to Amalia's captivity a century earlier.
This was a slow start for me. At about 20% in I had to do something research… Metaphorically, Loba refers to reclaiming bodily autonomy, tapping into primal strength, and shifting from prey into predator when faced with violence and captivity. In standard Spanish, loba means "she-wolf." However, in coastal Uruguayan Spanish, the South American sea lion is known as a lobo marino (literally "sea wolf").
This story has been compared to “Mexican Gothic,” fortunately for me, I can say that this one is not the same and by far a better read all around. The writing was descriptive and I had a really immersive experience. The female rage and metaphoric meaning really carries the story. I really enjoyed the dual timeline and found the need for freedom mesmerizing. It was easy to root for the FMCs. They had similar yet very different stories that held my attention completely. There’s so much dread in the author’s tone that I kept waiting for a powerful ending. Good news: the author delivers. This story is one of female resilience and we see that in the end, women aren’t weak and can break free. Overall, the story is hopeful and leaves me feeling empowered.
Delmira Torres flees to a remote Uruguayan lighthouse to escape her abusive husband but encounters La Loba and visions linking her to Amalia's captivity a century earlier.
This was a slow start for me. At about 20% in I had to do something research… Metaphorically, Loba refers to reclaiming bodily autonomy, tapping into primal strength, and shifting from prey into predator when faced with violence and captivity. In standard Spanish, loba means "she-wolf." However, in coastal Uruguayan Spanish, the South American sea lion is known as a lobo marino (literally "sea wolf").
This story has been compared to “Mexican Gothic,” fortunately for me, I can say that this one is not the same and by far a better read all around. The writing was descriptive and I had a really immersive experience. The female rage and metaphoric meaning really carries the story. I really enjoyed the dual timeline and found the need for freedom mesmerizing. It was easy to root for the FMCs. They had similar yet very different stories that held my attention completely. There’s so much dread in the author’s tone that I kept waiting for a powerful ending. Good news: the author delivers. This story is one of female resilience and we see that in the end, women aren’t weak and can break free. Overall, the story is hopeful and leaves me feeling empowered.
Review of advance copy received from Author
I devoured this book in less than two days!!! Loba was EVERYTHING I could have wanted. With such achingly beautiful prose and a heart racing plot that kept me turning the pages saying "just one more chapter." 10/10 recommend if you want an immersive, spine-tingling gothic horror!!!
Official Blurb:
"As haunting as a sea lion's call, Loba is filled with jagged edges and viciously sharp teeth. Valentina Cano Repetto has expertly crafted a haunting atmosphere full of ancient lore and drowning darkness. Loba lures you in with its vivid prose and emotionally charged mystery. It swept me away from the very first chapter—gripping me with its icy fingers until I had no choice but to be swallowed by the sea." - Grace Morrow, author of We Become Darkness
Official Blurb:
"As haunting as a sea lion's call, Loba is filled with jagged edges and viciously sharp teeth. Valentina Cano Repetto has expertly crafted a haunting atmosphere full of ancient lore and drowning darkness. Loba lures you in with its vivid prose and emotionally charged mystery. It swept me away from the very first chapter—gripping me with its icy fingers until I had no choice but to be swallowed by the sea." - Grace Morrow, author of We Become Darkness
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
I really liked the setting and atmosphere of this book. I think the spooky lighthouse had such a great coastal spooky vibe to it.
And the cover really caught my eye. I like all the bright green.
Unfortunately, I did find this book to be really hard to get into. There was just some disconnect for me as a reader with the main character. And that made it really hard for me to get into the story in general.
But I do think that the spooky readers that love a good atmosphere would still really enjoy this. I just liked to be hooked right away with an action-packed spooky story.
Thanks to NetGalley for the e-ARC of this book in exchange for my honest review!
And the cover really caught my eye. I like all the bright green.
Unfortunately, I did find this book to be really hard to get into. There was just some disconnect for me as a reader with the main character. And that made it really hard for me to get into the story in general.
But I do think that the spooky readers that love a good atmosphere would still really enjoy this. I just liked to be hooked right away with an action-packed spooky story.
Thanks to NetGalley for the e-ARC of this book in exchange for my honest review!
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Thank you to the publisher, author, and NetGalley for giving me an ARC to review.
Loba is the story of an abused woman fleeing her husband. She just happens to pick a haunted lighthouse to do so. At least that’s how it begins. This book is full of secrets, secrets you don’t even begin to guess. The ending was so surprising and had a great build up. I don’t want to give away the plot, but it’s not what you expect: it’s even better. Traveling back and forth 100 years gives you the full story of the beginning of the haunting as well as what Delmira is experiencing. Haunting but somehow beautiful, this book will stay in your mind for awhile.
Loba is the story of an abused woman fleeing her husband. She just happens to pick a haunted lighthouse to do so. At least that’s how it begins. This book is full of secrets, secrets you don’t even begin to guess. The ending was so surprising and had a great build up. I don’t want to give away the plot, but it’s not what you expect: it’s even better. Traveling back and forth 100 years gives you the full story of the beginning of the haunting as well as what Delmira is experiencing. Haunting but somehow beautiful, this book will stay in your mind for awhile.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
**Received an ARC through NetGalley.**
The perfect Gothic read for when summer meets autumn.
With two narrators you can’t help but root they booth eget the ending they deserve.
Loba is filled with jagged edges and viciousness. The author creates a haunting atmosphere that somehow feels cozy at times, while still being full of darkness and gore. Though I did find myself losing interest around the halfway point, which made it take me longer to finish, but it was very different and entertaining still.
The perfect Gothic read for when summer meets autumn.
With two narrators you can’t help but root they booth eget the ending they deserve.
Loba is filled with jagged edges and viciousness. The author creates a haunting atmosphere that somehow feels cozy at times, while still being full of darkness and gore. Though I did find myself losing interest around the halfway point, which made it take me longer to finish, but it was very different and entertaining still.
November 13, 2026
I’ll write a real review but wtf that was good!!
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
From beginning to end, there is a real sense of tension found throughout Loba. I thought the switches between the two main characters (whose stories unfold a century apart) were adequately placed. The pacing picks up as the story goes on and it becomes downright frantic by the end in the best possible way.
The book creates such an unsettling atmosphere due to it being set against the isolation of a lighthouse in Uruguay with the shadow of a local legend constantly hovering. It has that wonderfully spooky vibe that I absolutely loved.
Since this book was genuinely a gripping read, it was so easy to fly through and I couldn’t help but keep turning the pages after I finished each chapter.
The book creates such an unsettling atmosphere due to it being set against the isolation of a lighthouse in Uruguay with the shadow of a local legend constantly hovering. It has that wonderfully spooky vibe that I absolutely loved.
Since this book was genuinely a gripping read, it was so easy to fly through and I couldn’t help but keep turning the pages after I finished each chapter.
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