3.5 stars
”Tell me, Ames,” I breathed, feeling my knees weaken. His mouth curved again as hunger lurked behind his blue stare. He leaned forward, breath hot on my ear, and whispered, “You’re standing on me.” Confusion muddled in my mind as I looked down at the dead grass. And then I realized. Turning around, I looked closer at the dark gray and crumbling headstone. My mouth went dry as I read the inscription. “James William Cove, born November twelfth, seventeen ninety-four . . . died October thirty-first eighteen twenty-three.
“How?” I managed, feeling his presence against my back. I turned, searching his deep eyes.
“Who I was died with the rest of the town that day. But who I am now . . . I’m the stuff of nightmares, Blythe. The reason they say not to go into the woods alone, why people are afraid of the dark . . .”
I read this on a whim, not really knowing what to expect, and found a story filled with intriguing characters, great world building, and a spooky season vibe I really loved.
Blythe and Ghost were perfect for each other, but there were definite hints of this becoming a “why choose?” reverse (monster) harem, which would be so very delicious.
The sexytimes were smokin hot, especially the scene with Blythe, Ghost, Onyx and Wolf in the church 🥵 but I was disappointed that the steam took a backseat to the rest of the story. I wanted more.
Loved the reveal of who Blythe really is… nice little twisty twist.
I’m looking forward to the rest of the series and seeing where the author takes
Blythe and the Halloween Boys.
His hair was gone, and only the outline of the monster remained. And then he looked up. Pale-blue eyes sat on a wide face of darkness and bone, matching the rest of him. He looked like the demons from old Renaissance paintings, only stronger and fiercer. A scream pushed from my throat. His hand shot for my face, wrapping around my mouth. “Don’t. Scream. I like it . . . too . . . much.”
* * *
Let life be beautiful like summer flowers and death like autumn leaves.
Rabindranath Tagore