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Sisters of the Crimson Vine
John Ainsworth nearly died in that car crash.
Soon he’ll learn there are worse fates.
After a brutal accident, John awakens in the dilapidated Crimoria Convent under the care of thirteen unconventional nuns. Grievous injuries trap him within the borders of the ruined sanctuary and its strangely successful vineyard. When his body starts healing faster than nature allows, John’s questions quickly pile up.
A pair of Church auditors arrive to look into the convent’s finances. It’s obvious the pair are unwelcome guests, but John has bigger concerns. The order’s annual ritual draws near and John begins to discover things that make him wonder if any of them are truly safe in the hands of the Sisters of the Crimson Vine.
“A taut braid of repressed desires, implied deviance, and eldritch horror. McMillan coyly lures us to a finale as repulsive as it is compelling.” – Stoker award-winning Jamie Flanagan, co-writer of The Haunting of Bly Manor and Midnight Mass
“In her masterful debut novella, Sisters of the Crimson Vine, P.L. McMillan cultivates dread like a fine wine. The more we sip, the deeper we sink into this insidious tale grown from the seed of Jackson’s “The Lottery” planted in a Lovecraftian terroir and harvested in Ari Aster’s Midsommar. Like the title characters’ famed libation, you will not be able to stop reading once you imbibe. A drunken sense of imbalance and uncertainty remains with you until the very end. Lovers of the occult will be pleasantly satiated by P.L. McMillan’s gothic offering.” – Stoker award-winning EV Knight, Three Days in the Pink Tower
“Sisters of the Crimson Vine by P.L McMillan is folk horror at its very best. The visuals, tension and mood created then intermixed with undeniable dread and mystery rides the very edges of illumination and darkness. P.L explores themes of religious hypocrisy and the power of women and sacrifices made to survive. She expertly subverts older tropes into something terrifying and new. This book is as vivid and twisted as any Aster movie.” – Brenda S. Tolian, Blood Mountain
“Sisters of the Crimson Vine is a perfectly paced suspenseful story that will make you want to savor every word. Invoking the ominous folk horror atmosphere of the Wicker Man and Midsommer, P.L. serves an unsettling tale of the supernatural bond between women and nature and the power and price of living free from patriarchal dominance.” – Joy Yehle, author and host of The Burial Plot horror podcast
Soon he’ll learn there are worse fates.
After a brutal accident, John awakens in the dilapidated Crimoria Convent under the care of thirteen unconventional nuns. Grievous injuries trap him within the borders of the ruined sanctuary and its strangely successful vineyard. When his body starts healing faster than nature allows, John’s questions quickly pile up.
A pair of Church auditors arrive to look into the convent’s finances. It’s obvious the pair are unwelcome guests, but John has bigger concerns. The order’s annual ritual draws near and John begins to discover things that make him wonder if any of them are truly safe in the hands of the Sisters of the Crimson Vine.
“A taut braid of repressed desires, implied deviance, and eldritch horror. McMillan coyly lures us to a finale as repulsive as it is compelling.” – Stoker award-winning Jamie Flanagan, co-writer of The Haunting of Bly Manor and Midnight Mass
“In her masterful debut novella, Sisters of the Crimson Vine, P.L. McMillan cultivates dread like a fine wine. The more we sip, the deeper we sink into this insidious tale grown from the seed of Jackson’s “The Lottery” planted in a Lovecraftian terroir and harvested in Ari Aster’s Midsommar. Like the title characters’ famed libation, you will not be able to stop reading once you imbibe. A drunken sense of imbalance and uncertainty remains with you until the very end. Lovers of the occult will be pleasantly satiated by P.L. McMillan’s gothic offering.” – Stoker award-winning EV Knight, Three Days in the Pink Tower
“Sisters of the Crimson Vine by P.L McMillan is folk horror at its very best. The visuals, tension and mood created then intermixed with undeniable dread and mystery rides the very edges of illumination and darkness. P.L explores themes of religious hypocrisy and the power of women and sacrifices made to survive. She expertly subverts older tropes into something terrifying and new. This book is as vivid and twisted as any Aster movie.” – Brenda S. Tolian, Blood Mountain
“Sisters of the Crimson Vine is a perfectly paced suspenseful story that will make you want to savor every word. Invoking the ominous folk horror atmosphere of the Wicker Man and Midsommer, P.L. serves an unsettling tale of the supernatural bond between women and nature and the power and price of living free from patriarchal dominance.” – Joy Yehle, author and host of The Burial Plot horror podcast
110 pages, Kindle Edition
Published December 6, 2022
14 people are currently reading
987 people want to read
About the author
P.L. McMillan
29 books146 followersP.L. McMillan is a writer whose works have been known to cause rifts in time and space itself…
Well, not quite. But writing often makes her feel that powerful.
P.L. McMillan is a Canadian expat living in the States, after having taught English for three years in Asia. With a passion for cosmic horror and sci-fi horror, P.L. McMillan sees every shadow as an entryway to a deeper look into the black heart of the world, meant to be discovered and explored. Infatuated with the works of Shirley Jackson, H.P. Lovecraft, and Ridley Scott, her dream is to create stories of adventure, of chills, of heartbreak, and thrills.
Her short fiction has appeared in a variety of anthologies and magazines such as Cosmic Horror Monthly, Strange Lands Short Stories, Negative Space, and AHH! That’s What I Call Horror, as well as adapted to audio forms for podcasts like NoSleep and Nocturnal Transmissions. In addition to her short stories, McMillan’s debut collection, What Remains When The Stars Burn Out, and debut novella, Sisters of the Crimson Vine, are available now.
Besides being a fiction writer, PLM has experience as an editor (Howls from the Dark Ages and The Darkness Beyond The Stars: An Anthology of Space Horror), hosts PLM Talks on Youtube (interviewing peers and professionals in the horror industry), and is the co-host of a horror writing craft podcast, Dead Languages Podcast. On top of all that, PLM does digital illustrations and artwork for anthologies and her merch shop.
Well, not quite. But writing often makes her feel that powerful.
P.L. McMillan is a Canadian expat living in the States, after having taught English for three years in Asia. With a passion for cosmic horror and sci-fi horror, P.L. McMillan sees every shadow as an entryway to a deeper look into the black heart of the world, meant to be discovered and explored. Infatuated with the works of Shirley Jackson, H.P. Lovecraft, and Ridley Scott, her dream is to create stories of adventure, of chills, of heartbreak, and thrills.
Her short fiction has appeared in a variety of anthologies and magazines such as Cosmic Horror Monthly, Strange Lands Short Stories, Negative Space, and AHH! That’s What I Call Horror, as well as adapted to audio forms for podcasts like NoSleep and Nocturnal Transmissions. In addition to her short stories, McMillan’s debut collection, What Remains When The Stars Burn Out, and debut novella, Sisters of the Crimson Vine, are available now.
Besides being a fiction writer, PLM has experience as an editor (Howls from the Dark Ages and The Darkness Beyond The Stars: An Anthology of Space Horror), hosts PLM Talks on Youtube (interviewing peers and professionals in the horror industry), and is the co-host of a horror writing craft podcast, Dead Languages Podcast. On top of all that, PLM does digital illustrations and artwork for anthologies and her merch shop.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 101 reviews
October 1, 2024
As someone who's culturally Catholic (Catholic shame/guilt is my way of life, baby!) but unsure about faith and critical about the church, there were several aspects of this book which I found uniquely delightful, make of that what you will.
June 7, 2023
Convent Capers! To Run Nun or not to Run Nun? "Well, I was just an ordinary guy until I met the sisters of the Crimoria Convent, and then drank their wine. Well, it opened my eyes and there's no going back from what I've seen!" - Mr. Ainsworth - The Viticulturist's Vernacular.
I love a completely believable story that transports me ... and this delivered.
The thing about this story is that it's not particularly visual. I found the sisters kinda blending into each other, and my visuals for our protagonist, Mr. Ainsworth were equally nondescript. The visuals are low key, up until the climax of the story where they come on full bore and light up the page.
What this book relies on are the senses of touch and taste, especially touch - this is a very tactile story. You'll feel this story more than you see it - which is quite extraordinary in my experience.
Very impressive! Bravo P.L. McMillan
Strongly Recommended: 5 'Cosmic Wine Drinkers Appreciation,' stars.
I love a completely believable story that transports me ... and this delivered.
The thing about this story is that it's not particularly visual. I found the sisters kinda blending into each other, and my visuals for our protagonist, Mr. Ainsworth were equally nondescript. The visuals are low key, up until the climax of the story where they come on full bore and light up the page.
What this book relies on are the senses of touch and taste, especially touch - this is a very tactile story. You'll feel this story more than you see it - which is quite extraordinary in my experience.
Very impressive! Bravo P.L. McMillan
Strongly Recommended: 5 'Cosmic Wine Drinkers Appreciation,' stars.
January 12, 2023
"Wicker Man" feel, with sexy nuns and lots of wine. What's not to like?
July 31, 2025
"...estos sonidos creaban una cacofonía enfermiza, como el canto de una bestia moribunda que intenta encontrar un lugar seguro para dejar
atrás su prisión mortal "
Una historia buena, en parte bien original, pero nada sorprendente en su conjunto, es entretenida, va construyendo el misterio rápidamente, pero a ratos ese mismo misterio o miedo del protagonista me pareció muy poco creíble y casi exagerado.
Tiene elementos que me encantan y por lo mismo me animé a leer este libro, la idea de unas monjas alejadas y encerradas en un convento si o si es motivo de lectura para mi. Y si bien no me encantó, estuvo entretenida. Rituales, sacrificios, secretos, curas milagrosas, herejía y vino siempre son una combinación para arriesgarse a leer.
atrás su prisión mortal "
Una historia buena, en parte bien original, pero nada sorprendente en su conjunto, es entretenida, va construyendo el misterio rápidamente, pero a ratos ese mismo misterio o miedo del protagonista me pareció muy poco creíble y casi exagerado.
Tiene elementos que me encantan y por lo mismo me animé a leer este libro, la idea de unas monjas alejadas y encerradas en un convento si o si es motivo de lectura para mi. Y si bien no me encantó, estuvo entretenida. Rituales, sacrificios, secretos, curas milagrosas, herejía y vino siempre son una combinación para arriesgarse a leer.
April 30, 2024
This sucker is all atmosphere, gothic and weird and dripping with dread. There are echoes of Lovecraft and The Wicker Man in here, but Sisters of the Crimson Vine sings with a voice all its own.
December 17, 2024
Me suelen gustar las historias de horror en las que a lo largo de su planteamiento entra en juego el eterno enfrentamiento entre las fuerzas del bien y del mal. En especial aquellas que transcurren dentro de recintos sagrados en los que cualquier cuestionamiento moral debería ser por su naturaleza descartado. Me divierten y aterran por igual, ante esa sensación de perder la mejor baza que uno tiene para el conflicto original. Pero en cierto modo, ese tipo de historias suelen lastrar una serie de convencionalismos que agotan cualquier atisbo de sorpresa en sus planteamientos. De ahí la agradable sorpresa que supone el enfrentarme a esta novela de P.L. McMillan y mi desconcierto ante el descalabro que supuso mi descaro al anticiparme a una historia que poco tuvo que ver con todo aquello que imaginaba.
Y es que la novela que se nos plantea en Las Hermanas de la Cepa Carmesí nos lleva a lugares y situaciones que para todos son en cierto modo reconocibles. La idea de que un personaje se despierte en un lugar desconocido tras un aparatoso accidente ha sido muchas veces explorado en la literatura de terror. También el hecho que, desde el inicio, el protagonista sea consciente de que algo a su alrededor no va bien, mientras hace partícipe al lector de su extrañeza. Pero el planteamiento al que nos acerca McMillan en su historia está cargado de sutilezas que abonan la tierra con la que se nutre esta novela que, eso sí, no sorprende en su desarrollo. En ese sentido, no hay que ser demasiado avispado para reconocer ciertos elementos que se van repitiendo a lo largo de la trama y que acarician al lector por sus implicaciones, mostrando sus frutos ya maduros en el sorprendente desenlace.
Sin embargo, estas Hermanas poco convencionales narran mucho más que lo que se pueda percibir en una primera lectura. A pesar de la sencillez de la historia, la autora pone el desarrollo de la novela al servicio de cuestionamientos religiosos para reflexionar acerca de los dogmas eclesiásticos, en especial a aquellos referentes al papel de la mujer dentro de la organización. También acierta al plantear la ambigüedad moral de una institución que se muestra más terrenal de lo que debiera. Ese tipo de planteamientos los enfoca hacia los personajes que, pese a su aparente simpleza, esconden más de una reflexión moral que los vuelve más interesantes y, por qué no decirlos, oscuros.
Pero, si por algo destaca la propuesta, es por la creación de su mitología que, en este caso, sí que se siente fresca y diferente, pese al recurrente uso de algunos de esos tópicos que harán las delicias de los amantes del terror. Con algún que otro tinte cósmico, y bastantes pinceladas del horror rural, lo que nos presenta McMillan en esta novela no deja de ser una visión moderna de uno de esos habitantes antiguos que siempre deja al lector con un dulce sabor en sus labios. Uno de esos que se mantienen con el paso del tiempo y que te lleva a querer saborear la siguiente propuesta que en un futuro nos presente su autora.
Y es que la novela que se nos plantea en Las Hermanas de la Cepa Carmesí nos lleva a lugares y situaciones que para todos son en cierto modo reconocibles. La idea de que un personaje se despierte en un lugar desconocido tras un aparatoso accidente ha sido muchas veces explorado en la literatura de terror. También el hecho que, desde el inicio, el protagonista sea consciente de que algo a su alrededor no va bien, mientras hace partícipe al lector de su extrañeza. Pero el planteamiento al que nos acerca McMillan en su historia está cargado de sutilezas que abonan la tierra con la que se nutre esta novela que, eso sí, no sorprende en su desarrollo. En ese sentido, no hay que ser demasiado avispado para reconocer ciertos elementos que se van repitiendo a lo largo de la trama y que acarician al lector por sus implicaciones, mostrando sus frutos ya maduros en el sorprendente desenlace.
Sin embargo, estas Hermanas poco convencionales narran mucho más que lo que se pueda percibir en una primera lectura. A pesar de la sencillez de la historia, la autora pone el desarrollo de la novela al servicio de cuestionamientos religiosos para reflexionar acerca de los dogmas eclesiásticos, en especial a aquellos referentes al papel de la mujer dentro de la organización. También acierta al plantear la ambigüedad moral de una institución que se muestra más terrenal de lo que debiera. Ese tipo de planteamientos los enfoca hacia los personajes que, pese a su aparente simpleza, esconden más de una reflexión moral que los vuelve más interesantes y, por qué no decirlos, oscuros.
Pero, si por algo destaca la propuesta, es por la creación de su mitología que, en este caso, sí que se siente fresca y diferente, pese al recurrente uso de algunos de esos tópicos que harán las delicias de los amantes del terror. Con algún que otro tinte cósmico, y bastantes pinceladas del horror rural, lo que nos presenta McMillan en esta novela no deja de ser una visión moderna de uno de esos habitantes antiguos que siempre deja al lector con un dulce sabor en sus labios. Uno de esos que se mantienen con el paso del tiempo y que te lleva a querer saborear la siguiente propuesta que en un futuro nos presente su autora.
September 28, 2024
Following a car accident, Johnathan Ainsworth finds himself in the care of the Sisters of Crimoria at their convent outside of an isolated village. He soon realizes that the nuns at the convent are quite unconventional, eschewing the typical signifiers of wimples and even shoes, and there is nary a crucifix or bible to be found. As he is nursed back to health by the charming sisters, a creeping sense of unease begins to settle on our hero. Why have the two priests conducting an audit of the convent’s records suddenly fallen ill? What exactly is it that the nuns are worshiping in their midnight devotions? What will happen at their annual "Sabine Solstice" a few days away? And why is that scarecrow so damn creepy?
Sisters of the Crimson Vine was a really pleasant surprise, mixing a bit of Wicker Man vibes with witchery and cosmic horror, and an atmosphere as heady as the wine produced in the convent’s bucolic vineyards. I would highly recommend this little novella. My only regret is that I didn't read it on a warm day with a glass of red nearby.
Sisters of the Crimson Vine was a really pleasant surprise, mixing a bit of Wicker Man vibes with witchery and cosmic horror, and an atmosphere as heady as the wine produced in the convent’s bucolic vineyards. I would highly recommend this little novella. My only regret is that I didn't read it on a warm day with a glass of red nearby.
January 27, 2023
Pl McMillan killed it with this taut, mysterious tale that mixes gothic, folk, and Lovecraftian horror that evokes the best of old school genre fiction. Recommend for fans of Harvest Home, Ramsey Campbell, and Eldritch Horror.
November 1, 2024
3.5 A pretty entertaining horror story. Doesn’t take long to figure out the nuns aren’t batting for team Jesus.
December 27, 2024
Una entretenida novela donde un hombre sufre un accidente y se despierta siendo cuidado en un convento por un grupo de monjas. Estas monjas llevan el pelo suelto y se dedican a cosechar un vino tinto muy agradable. Al convento llegarán un par de parrocos a investigar ya que esta congregación parece haber abandonado la buena senda. Nuestro protagonista deberá averiguar que se esconde en el antiguo convento mientras se cura la pierna.
Le pongo tres estrellas porque más que una novela vendría a ser un relato largo y creo que al autora estira un poco el chicle pero el final me ha convencido bastante. Para fans del terror rural rollo Midsommar. Otro buen rato pasado gracias a la editorial Dilatando mentes.
Le pongo tres estrellas porque más que una novela vendría a ser un relato largo y creo que al autora estira un poco el chicle pero el final me ha convencido bastante. Para fans del terror rural rollo Midsommar. Otro buen rato pasado gracias a la editorial Dilatando mentes.
December 18, 2022
One of my favourite things about this book is the slow dread that takes root despite the seemingly peaceful setting. It's subtle and tenuous, this dread, like the tendrils of a creeping vine, and McMillan is a masterful gardener guiding me so deeply into her world that I couldn't find my way out even if I wanted to. The setting is a character in its own right, quiet and mysterious and as full of secrets as the sisters themselves. And the ending (no spoilers here) feels just right: a final, satisfying product that McMillan carefully cultivates and ripens from the very first chapter. I read this shorter book in one sitting, late one night, because I couldn't stop turning the pages, and woke up bleary-eyed and unsettled, wishing I could return to Crimoria convent for a little hair of the dog.
October 20, 2023
Oh, it was fine.
But for an eldritch, it wasn't horrific and otherworldly enough.
For horror with the Catholic Church, it wasn't subversive enough.
One idea cannot carry a story, even if it had been shorter than this.
But for an eldritch, it wasn't horrific and otherworldly enough.
For horror with the Catholic Church, it wasn't subversive enough.
One idea cannot carry a story, even if it had been shorter than this.
December 31, 2024
La reseña completa en https://inthenevernever.blogspot.com/...
«Hay muchas formas de adorar, señor Ainsworth, y nosotras seguimos siendo muy devotas».
¿Qué pasaría si lo que debería ser un tranquilo viaje en la carretera termina por ser una pesadilla? Sufrir un terrible accidente de tráfico, estar a punto de morir y despertar en un viejo convento bajo el cuidado de unas diligentes pero poco convencionales monjas. Descubrir en ese lugar que quizás existen destinos peores que la muerte. Hoy quiero recomendarles Las Hermanas de la Cepa Carmesí, de P. L. McMillan. Una novela corta llena de tensión que los mantendrá leyendo sin parar, esperando lo peor y sorprendiéndonos una y otra vez. Un libro que nos llega con la traducción de José Ángel de Dios.
«Hay muchas formas de adorar, señor Ainsworth, y nosotras seguimos siendo muy devotas».
¿Qué pasaría si lo que debería ser un tranquilo viaje en la carretera termina por ser una pesadilla? Sufrir un terrible accidente de tráfico, estar a punto de morir y despertar en un viejo convento bajo el cuidado de unas diligentes pero poco convencionales monjas. Descubrir en ese lugar que quizás existen destinos peores que la muerte. Hoy quiero recomendarles Las Hermanas de la Cepa Carmesí, de P. L. McMillan. Una novela corta llena de tensión que los mantendrá leyendo sin parar, esperando lo peor y sorprendiéndonos una y otra vez. Un libro que nos llega con la traducción de José Ángel de Dios.
March 17, 2023
Sisters of the Crimson Vine is a fresh slice of slow-burn folk horror steeped in copious amounts of red wine. This novella is heavy on atmosphere with a creeping dread that steadily ratchets higher as the pages slide by. And slide by they do, quite easily. McMillan pens this story with an elevated prose that swallowed me whole and spit me out the other side with a vague sense of unease, and the hope that I'm never forced to convalesce with the Sisters.
A wonderful read that I recommend wholeheartedly for both folk and cosmic horror fans alike.
A wonderful read that I recommend wholeheartedly for both folk and cosmic horror fans alike.
January 8, 2025
A gnarly car accident, an isolated old convent, mysterious nuns, and a wine so wonderful I’d give everything to taste it, if this alone doesn’t spark your interest, I don’t know what will. Sisters of the Crimson Vine is the perfect blend of folk and cosmic horror, two sub-genres that I’m usually not a fan of, but McMillan’s writing drew me in so quickly and engulfed me in the story in such a way that it was impossible not to love it. The novella is divided into five parts: Harvesting, Crushing, Fermentation, Clarification, Aging, and Bottling. As you can see, they’re the stages of the wine-making process, a clever touch that adds to the reading experience and makes for more complete immersion.
After crashing his car and barely escaping it with his life, the protagonist awakes in the convent, where he is tended to by kind, although very unconventional nurses. Soon he learns that there is more to them than what meets the eye. I read this at the perfect moment in my life, starting it a couple of days before my surgery to get my gallbladder removed and finishing it as I recovered from pancreatitis caused by the surgery. This made me feel as if I was recovering alongside Mr. Ainsworth, only aided by my mother instead of nuns (of whom she is ironically terrified). While I read on, I found myself desperately craving the sister’s wine; it was described in such a way that there’s no doubt in my mind that if I ever did taste it, it’d be the best thing I’d ever drunk.
The author is a master at painting a picture. Not only was I able to taste the wine, but I also had a vivid image in my mind of the convent with all its rooms, the vineyard, and the cellar. What’s even more impressive is that McMillan doesn’t bury the reader with extensive descriptions, instead feeding it to us gradually, building the scenery in layers as the story progresses. In that same vein, the characters were also developed exceedingly well, which, considering there are several of them and less than 115 pages, is quite a feat. I’m still in awe of how each nun, the protagonist, and the reader, is introduced to have a distinct personality, no matter how brief their appearance may be. Something I was particularly fond of was this dedication to carving out individual traits for every single character, which made them all seem real and enriched the story greatly.
My role as a reviewer is to write all that I’ve liked and disliked about a book so that, hopefully, I can help someone find the right story for them. The thing is, sometimes I’ll come across stories like this novella, where there’s nothing I’d change and, ergo, have absolutely no criticism whatsoever. If there is one thing I could say is that I would’ve loved it if the book had featured the illustrations of the drawings Mr. Ainsworth finds in the convent’s office. McMillan makes them sound beautiful, and I think it’d help the reader have an even clearer picture of the story’s setting.
The only caveat I have is that if you’re a fan of the gorier and grosser side of horror, you might not enjoy this as much as I did. The opening scene of the car accident and the climax are pretty gory. At least they were for me, but the rest of the story takes a more subtle and unnerving approach to the genre. This is a quick read, both because of the length of the novella and because McMillan’s prose is so alluring and immersive that you won’t want to put this down until you’re finished.
After crashing his car and barely escaping it with his life, the protagonist awakes in the convent, where he is tended to by kind, although very unconventional nurses. Soon he learns that there is more to them than what meets the eye. I read this at the perfect moment in my life, starting it a couple of days before my surgery to get my gallbladder removed and finishing it as I recovered from pancreatitis caused by the surgery. This made me feel as if I was recovering alongside Mr. Ainsworth, only aided by my mother instead of nuns (of whom she is ironically terrified). While I read on, I found myself desperately craving the sister’s wine; it was described in such a way that there’s no doubt in my mind that if I ever did taste it, it’d be the best thing I’d ever drunk.
The author is a master at painting a picture. Not only was I able to taste the wine, but I also had a vivid image in my mind of the convent with all its rooms, the vineyard, and the cellar. What’s even more impressive is that McMillan doesn’t bury the reader with extensive descriptions, instead feeding it to us gradually, building the scenery in layers as the story progresses. In that same vein, the characters were also developed exceedingly well, which, considering there are several of them and less than 115 pages, is quite a feat. I’m still in awe of how each nun, the protagonist, and the reader, is introduced to have a distinct personality, no matter how brief their appearance may be. Something I was particularly fond of was this dedication to carving out individual traits for every single character, which made them all seem real and enriched the story greatly.
My role as a reviewer is to write all that I’ve liked and disliked about a book so that, hopefully, I can help someone find the right story for them. The thing is, sometimes I’ll come across stories like this novella, where there’s nothing I’d change and, ergo, have absolutely no criticism whatsoever. If there is one thing I could say is that I would’ve loved it if the book had featured the illustrations of the drawings Mr. Ainsworth finds in the convent’s office. McMillan makes them sound beautiful, and I think it’d help the reader have an even clearer picture of the story’s setting.
The only caveat I have is that if you’re a fan of the gorier and grosser side of horror, you might not enjoy this as much as I did. The opening scene of the car accident and the climax are pretty gory. At least they were for me, but the rest of the story takes a more subtle and unnerving approach to the genre. This is a quick read, both because of the length of the novella and because McMillan’s prose is so alluring and immersive that you won’t want to put this down until you’re finished.
September 15, 2022
This was definitely a fun quick read. 13 witches, blood red wine and a solstice what more can you ask for. This would be a great Halloween read.
March 18, 2023
What a satisfying book. It left me feeling dirty, the way only horror can, and that is a good thing. A slow-burn story with dread and an excellent payoff ending.
Read
June 17, 2025Wreck your car. Wake up in a cult. It’s wine o’clock.
4⭐️
4⭐️
October 13, 2022
Sisters of the Crimson Vine is a short, twisted tale ripe for Halloween. McMillan weaves a story filled with looming dread, trepidation, and dark secrets. Following the main character, Mr. Ainsworth, we're taken on a tumultuous journey full of mystery and exceptionally addictive red wine.
After a bad car accident, Mr. Ainsworth finds himself under the care of a nunnery. As the story progresses, he begins to realize that not everything is as it seems. The situation grows in its oddity and wonders as he begins to explore the convent. Oh, what secrets do they hide?
This slow-burn story keeps pace and tension quite well. If you're a fan of stories containing witches, looming dread, and cosmic horror, then this story is for you. A quick read, Sisters of the Crimson Vine will have you rearing for more from McMillan. This Lovecraftian tale is carefully and vibrantly worded. The gothic settings really pop, engulfing the reader in a terrifying journey that crawls under your skin and stays there.
After a bad car accident, Mr. Ainsworth finds himself under the care of a nunnery. As the story progresses, he begins to realize that not everything is as it seems. The situation grows in its oddity and wonders as he begins to explore the convent. Oh, what secrets do they hide?
This slow-burn story keeps pace and tension quite well. If you're a fan of stories containing witches, looming dread, and cosmic horror, then this story is for you. A quick read, Sisters of the Crimson Vine will have you rearing for more from McMillan. This Lovecraftian tale is carefully and vibrantly worded. The gothic settings really pop, engulfing the reader in a terrifying journey that crawls under your skin and stays there.
December 27, 2022
If you’ve somehow managed to resist the alluring cover art, then I must beckon you—come! Come get your face folked off by this masterclass in the spirited tradition of vintage slow-burn atmospheric horror. McMillan joins the bookshelf right alongside Harvest Home and Burnt Offerings, but with a twist of something new that presents an altogether visceral and unnerving experience.
June 13, 2025
5/5
Siento especial debilidad por la ficción corta; esas novelas capaces de condensar tanto en tan pocas páginas son una bendición y una maldición: bendición, porque se sienten como historias redondas de una manera que rara vez alcanzan las novelas de mayor extensión; maldición, porque no se publican tantas como deberían.
Al ser esta una de esas novelas, resulta difícil explicar todo lo bueno que contiene sin entrar en detalles que, a mi parecer, arruinarían la experiencia de lectura. Lo que sí puedo decir es que Las hermanas de la cepa carmesí no ha terminado siendo lo que imaginaba durante los primeros capítulos... y gracias a la Madre y su Descendencia Eterna que no lo ha sido, porque es muchísimo más y muchísimo mejor.
No es raro que en novelas de folk horror, desde el momento en que el protagonista queda atrapado en un rincón apartado de la civilización y obligado a convivir con sus desconfiados y hoscos habitantes, se despierte en nosotros cierta antipatía y animadversión hacia estos, por lo que —casi seguro— ocultan. No es ese el caso aquí. Me ha sorprendido la simpatía que las hermanas de Crimoria despiertan casi desde el principio. Esta comunidad, por mucho que oculte, está formada por mujeres por las que solo puedes sentir empatía y afecto (algo completamente intencionado por McMillan, y digno de aplauso).
Ya en la sinopsis se menciona cierta influencia de Shirley Jackson, y es cierto: veo mucho de Eleanor y de Hill House aquí. Porque no estamos ante un lugar que nos empuje a huir, y quizá eso es lo más terrorífico del convento de Crimoria: que nos invita a quedarnos, a ser cómplices del oscuro secreto que esta comunidad esconde.
Siento especial debilidad por la ficción corta; esas novelas capaces de condensar tanto en tan pocas páginas son una bendición y una maldición: bendición, porque se sienten como historias redondas de una manera que rara vez alcanzan las novelas de mayor extensión; maldición, porque no se publican tantas como deberían.
Al ser esta una de esas novelas, resulta difícil explicar todo lo bueno que contiene sin entrar en detalles que, a mi parecer, arruinarían la experiencia de lectura. Lo que sí puedo decir es que Las hermanas de la cepa carmesí no ha terminado siendo lo que imaginaba durante los primeros capítulos... y gracias a la Madre y su Descendencia Eterna que no lo ha sido, porque es muchísimo más y muchísimo mejor.
No es raro que en novelas de folk horror, desde el momento en que el protagonista queda atrapado en un rincón apartado de la civilización y obligado a convivir con sus desconfiados y hoscos habitantes, se despierte en nosotros cierta antipatía y animadversión hacia estos, por lo que —casi seguro— ocultan. No es ese el caso aquí. Me ha sorprendido la simpatía que las hermanas de Crimoria despiertan casi desde el principio. Esta comunidad, por mucho que oculte, está formada por mujeres por las que solo puedes sentir empatía y afecto (algo completamente intencionado por McMillan, y digno de aplauso).
Ya en la sinopsis se menciona cierta influencia de Shirley Jackson, y es cierto: veo mucho de Eleanor y de Hill House aquí. Porque no estamos ante un lugar que nos empuje a huir, y quizá eso es lo más terrorífico del convento de Crimoria: que nos invita a quedarnos, a ser cómplices del oscuro secreto que esta comunidad esconde.
August 20, 2023
This is so much fun. Despite some editing troubles this is a quick, extremely enjoyable novella that horror fans should eat up in one sitting. I look forward to devouring more from this author.
March 3, 2023
Do you enjoy any of the following: Midsommar, Harvest Home, Wicker Man, Children of the Corn, or nunsploitation films?
Then come for a stay at the convent, have some local wine, and revel in the nunnery. Don't stay too long or you might regret it. Food isn't too great except one night of the year, otherwise- would not recommend. Admire the vineyards, hand-made scarecrows, and the friendly locals.
Please don't go in the Sanctuary, it's private.
Then come for a stay at the convent, have some local wine, and revel in the nunnery. Don't stay too long or you might regret it. Food isn't too great except one night of the year, otherwise- would not recommend. Admire the vineyards, hand-made scarecrows, and the friendly locals.
Please don't go in the Sanctuary, it's private.
January 5, 2023
Everything about this was *chef's kiss* The ominous feeling, the convent, the cosmic horror... And the sisters! I loved them all!
November 12, 2022
Author P.L. McMillan does that thing. What thing, you ask? Right. This is a review, so I guess I should elaborate. Or articulate, even. You know what I mean though. That thing. That all-important writing discipline that’s important to writing good stories, but absolutely vital to writing good horror stories. That bit of descriptive prose that somehow isn’t notably descriptive at all, but – through some insidious and subconscious method that is nigh invisible on the written page – manages to slither into your head and whisper: something isn’t right; something is wrong; you are not safe. THAT is the thing that McMillan does so well with her debut novella Sisters of the Crimson Vine. A slick, viciously scary blend of folk and cosmic horror that will have you looking twice at nuns and the picturesque British countryside.
So, let’s talk about it.
Mr. Ainsworth – the protagonist – is having a rough time. After enduring a grisly car wreck, he finds himself stranded at Crimoria convent with a broken leg and surrounded by nuns. As he begins to familiarize himself with the convent and its denizens, Ainsworth finds himself unable to leave and caught-up in a power struggle between the catholic church and a sect of nuns with a few…unorthodox practices. And, of course, something just seems off about the entire place. There’s something in the air, in the ground, in the people, and especially in the decadent wine that the sisters off Crimoria convent ferment that just seems…off.
So, yes, the story oozes tension and atmosphere, but what really infuses the storytelling with a kick is how deftly McMillan makes readers feel helpless and vulnerable. See, Ainsworth is confined to a wheelchair for most of the story. The sisters of Crimoria convent are the very picture of courtesy and are happy to propel Ainsworth around the convent as needed, but Ainsworth soon realizes that he exists completely at their mercy. As the dark history of the convent reveals itself, this sense of vulnerability only escalates. Ainsworth may be learning more about the sisters and Crimoria Convent, but since he’s trapped at the convent with no practical means of escape, whatever “answers” he intuits about his circumstances only hammer home the fact that he’s trapped in a strange – likely dangerous – place and is helpless to do anything about it.
The characters all strike resonant chords as well. Description is kept to a minimum – which is always best – but McMillan’s subtle and infectious prose infuses the mind with an eerily effective portrait of each character. And despite having a large cast of characters and a limited number of pages with which to explore them, the story is able to escalate to disquieting heights while each character still feels unique and memorable. Sister Helena is the real MVP!
While reading this review, you may have gleaned the impression that writing horror is a manipulative process. And that’s because it is. The author can’t just tell the reader to be scared. In fact, that’s probably the most effective way to ensure that they won’t be scared. The writer must convince the reader that they aren’t trying to scare them at all; they’re just telling a story, and if a reader just so happens to end up scared…well, that’s on them isn’t it. And whether P.L. McMillan admits it or not, Sisters of the Crimson Vine unmasks her as a manipulator of the most insidious sort. The sort of manipulator that reaches into a reader’s mind and gently unearths repressed fears. Who eases those fears to the forefront of the mind, but refuses to reveal her intent until it’s too late and the reader has no choice but to face the ancient terrors she has evoked within these pages.
And THAT is McMillan doing that thing that she does so well.
Read it.
So, let’s talk about it.
Mr. Ainsworth – the protagonist – is having a rough time. After enduring a grisly car wreck, he finds himself stranded at Crimoria convent with a broken leg and surrounded by nuns. As he begins to familiarize himself with the convent and its denizens, Ainsworth finds himself unable to leave and caught-up in a power struggle between the catholic church and a sect of nuns with a few…unorthodox practices. And, of course, something just seems off about the entire place. There’s something in the air, in the ground, in the people, and especially in the decadent wine that the sisters off Crimoria convent ferment that just seems…off.
So, yes, the story oozes tension and atmosphere, but what really infuses the storytelling with a kick is how deftly McMillan makes readers feel helpless and vulnerable. See, Ainsworth is confined to a wheelchair for most of the story. The sisters of Crimoria convent are the very picture of courtesy and are happy to propel Ainsworth around the convent as needed, but Ainsworth soon realizes that he exists completely at their mercy. As the dark history of the convent reveals itself, this sense of vulnerability only escalates. Ainsworth may be learning more about the sisters and Crimoria Convent, but since he’s trapped at the convent with no practical means of escape, whatever “answers” he intuits about his circumstances only hammer home the fact that he’s trapped in a strange – likely dangerous – place and is helpless to do anything about it.
The characters all strike resonant chords as well. Description is kept to a minimum – which is always best – but McMillan’s subtle and infectious prose infuses the mind with an eerily effective portrait of each character. And despite having a large cast of characters and a limited number of pages with which to explore them, the story is able to escalate to disquieting heights while each character still feels unique and memorable. Sister Helena is the real MVP!
While reading this review, you may have gleaned the impression that writing horror is a manipulative process. And that’s because it is. The author can’t just tell the reader to be scared. In fact, that’s probably the most effective way to ensure that they won’t be scared. The writer must convince the reader that they aren’t trying to scare them at all; they’re just telling a story, and if a reader just so happens to end up scared…well, that’s on them isn’t it. And whether P.L. McMillan admits it or not, Sisters of the Crimson Vine unmasks her as a manipulator of the most insidious sort. The sort of manipulator that reaches into a reader’s mind and gently unearths repressed fears. Who eases those fears to the forefront of the mind, but refuses to reveal her intent until it’s too late and the reader has no choice but to face the ancient terrors she has evoked within these pages.
And THAT is McMillan doing that thing that she does so well.
Read it.
May 13, 2023
Eldritch horrors and evil nuns -- like two peas in a pod. Short but very fun.
November 7, 2022
P.L. McMillan cultivates dread like fine wine, allowing terror to ripen on the vine. Sisters of the Crimson Vine is her debut novella and does not disappoint. A chilling folk horror that revolves around a mysterious abbey where its protagonist, Ainsworth, finds himself located. Sisters of the Crimson Vine introduces an order of strange nuns who seem to follow their own creed that is wholly at odds with any Catholic order. Ainsworth finds himself drawn to one of the sisters and must choose where his loyalties lie.
You can read Zach's full review at Horror DNA by clicking here.
You can read Zach's full review at Horror DNA by clicking here.
July 23, 2023
A guy gets into an accident and is saved by unorthodox nuns. As he recovers and gets to know them, he starts suspecting there's something fishy going on.
I can detect notes of Shirley Jackson in it , with a twist ending but in
general find it cheesy and a bit contrived. Sexy nuns worshipping deity, and separate from mainstream Church, hateful patriarchal Catholic priests (very shallowly treated) and a guy in the middle of it Lacks depth and tension isn't really all that strong, even though I can't deny it is there to get you going.
It's all in all an easy read, though leaves a so-so aftertaste with little to sink my teeth into .There is a certain visual thinking behind it but it just doesn't quite reach the depth I would have liked. And I could smell where this was going a mile early. So was expecting it to do something unexpected with what I was expecting. But it failed me.
I do like the theme, though. It's about church. Even though I consider myself a religious person, I like my worldview to be challenged and I can't deny that church has brought a lot of trouble, and there is a hint of criticism here that, if deepened,could have made a shattering tale. think it could have been a bit more , and explore more the idea of women as witches/ possessed by Satan from a deeper angle. As such, it failed to shatter me.
I recommend "Mother, Joan of the Angels" for a deeper treatment of a similar theme. Still, it can be a fun read for Halloween. But it just doesn't cut it for me.
I can detect notes of Shirley Jackson in it , with a twist ending but in
general find it cheesy and a bit contrived. Sexy nuns worshipping deity, and separate from mainstream Church, hateful patriarchal Catholic priests (very shallowly treated) and a guy in the middle of it Lacks depth and tension isn't really all that strong, even though I can't deny it is there to get you going.
It's all in all an easy read, though leaves a so-so aftertaste with little to sink my teeth into .There is a certain visual thinking behind it but it just doesn't quite reach the depth I would have liked. And I could smell where this was going a mile early. So was expecting it to do something unexpected with what I was expecting. But it failed me.
I do like the theme, though. It's about church. Even though I consider myself a religious person, I like my worldview to be challenged and I can't deny that church has brought a lot of trouble, and there is a hint of criticism here that, if deepened,could have made a shattering tale. think it could have been a bit more , and explore more the idea of women as witches/ possessed by Satan from a deeper angle. As such, it failed to shatter me.
I recommend "Mother, Joan of the Angels" for a deeper treatment of a similar theme. Still, it can be a fun read for Halloween. But it just doesn't cut it for me.
September 12, 2022
Visit a quaint English vineyard, steeped in tradition, and run by cloistered nuns. How sinister could THAT be? Sample the vintage and take a relaxing amble amid the green, undulating vines. Dance with Sister Helena Rose and you may be infatuated. But the convenient visitor to the Crimoria Convent may not wish to stay for the annual festivities, at least not for the climax. Those faint of heart might want to visit a more conventional and less Lovecraftian vineyard. Greyfriars in Surrey, for instance, where the eldritch is not in evidence. This debut novella by P.L. McMillan is a fine folkhorror effort. The author possesses the gift of composing felicitous phrases in the softest sepulcher whispers, maintains a sacrilicious and minatory mood and, in the denouement, freshens the scarecrow trope. Bravo.
November 1, 2023
This shot to the top of my favorites list of the year, and it's going to be a HARD one to beat. This quick and dirty folk horror hits all the right notes for me: the story starts at a run and drags you right along, it plays around with religious imagery, and is filled to the brim with sexual repression. Honestly, half my annotations and underlines are the MC and various sisters playing the cat and mouse game. And while I could've stood a BIT more gore, what we got was so delightful that I feel a bit silly complaining about it.
Seriously, I couldn't recommend this one highly enough. If you enjoy creepy, atmospheric tales of ritual and weird sexuality, you will NOT be disappointed. I'm going to devour anything I can ever find of this author, and also plan to revisit this book sometime soon 🍷
Seriously, I couldn't recommend this one highly enough. If you enjoy creepy, atmospheric tales of ritual and weird sexuality, you will NOT be disappointed. I'm going to devour anything I can ever find of this author, and also plan to revisit this book sometime soon 🍷
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