Like Sapphire Blue Review | Marisa Billions | Is It Worth Reading?

Verdict: A dark, emotionally charged sapphic drama about class, ambition, and a family secret that threatens to burn everything down — more character-driven than spice-driven, and quietly gripping.

Best for: Readers who want a dark sapphic story with weight and stakes — poverty, ambition, betrayal, and a heroine forced to reckon with who she really is.

Heat: 🌶🌶🌶 (3/5 — present, but the drama leads)

Rating: ★★★★½ (4.30 average across 140+ Goodreads ratings — a strong reader signal for a character-driven dark romance)

Tropes: Dark sapphic romance · class divide · rags-to-riches · dark family secret · slow-burn · standalone

Like Sapphire Blue by Marisa Billions is a dark, character-driven entry that fits well into any list of dark sapphic romance recommendations. Rather than leaning on shock, its darkness comes from class, ambition, and a devastating family secret that threatens the life its heroine has clawed her way toward. This review breaks down what it is, who it’s for, and why readers rate it so highly.

What Is Like Sapphire Blue About?

Like Sapphire Blue is a dark sapphic romance following Emma Landry — tough, smart, beautiful, and an outcast who has spent her life determined to climb out of poverty. Raised by her father, “Bear,” on the wrong side of the tracks in a wealthy town, Emma has never known a mother’s love, and she’ll do whatever it takes to change her circumstances.

Just as success finally beckons and the woman she’s long loved comes within reach, a dark family secret surfaces — one tied to the very fabric of who she is. Faced with foundation-shattering treachery, Emma reaches a crossroads: overcome a destiny defined by destitution, murder, and betrayal, or let the truth destroy everything she’s built.

What Makes This Dark Sapphic Drama Work

Its 4.30 rating reflects how effectively Billions blends romance with high-stakes drama:

  • A compelling underdog heroine. Emma’s climb out of poverty gives the story real emotional grounding.
  • Genuine dramatic stakes. The dark family secret raises the tension far beyond a standard romance.
  • A vivid class divide. The wealthy-town-vs-wrong-side-of-the-tracks setting sharpens every conflict.
  • Slow-burn payoff. The romance builds against a backdrop of ambition and danger.
  • Emotional weight. This is dark romance that takes its themes seriously.

Book Synopsis

Emma Landry has spent her whole life as an outsider, refusing to let poverty define her future. As her ambition finally starts to pay off — and love comes within reach — she seems poised to leave the wrong side of the tracks behind for good.

Then a hidden truth about her family detonates everything. Like Sapphire Blue turns on that revelation, forcing Emma to confront treachery, loss, and the question of whether she is more than her father’s daughter. It’s a dark romance where the danger is as much about identity and betrayal as it is about survival.

Like Sapphire Blue by Marisa Billions book coverI found Like Sapphire Blue to be a satisfyingly weighty read. Its darkness isn’t about shock value — it comes from Emma’s circumstances, her ambition, and the devastating family secret that upends everything. That makes it feel grounded and emotionally real in a way that a lot of dark romance skips past. Emma is a genuinely compelling heroine: tough, hungry, and easy to root for.

The class divide gives every conflict extra bite, and the slow-burn romance is all the more rewarding for playing out against real danger and betrayal. Billions takes her themes seriously, and the result is a dark drama with heart. Its 4.30 average reflects how well that grounded approach connects with readers.

My honest note: this leans more toward dramatic, character-driven dark romance than spice-forward or grimdark. If you’re expecting explicit content on every page or relentless bleakness, it’s more measured than that — the darkness is in the stakes and secrets. As always with the subgenre, check content warnings for the themes of poverty, betrayal, and violence.

ElementIn Like Sapphire Blue
Central relationshipEmma Landry & the woman she’s long loved, f/f
Core tropesDark romance, class divide, rags-to-riches, dark family secret
SettingA wealthy town with a hard-edged “wrong side of the tracks”
Heat level🌶🌶🌶 (3/5) — present but drama-led
SeriesStandalone
Content notesPoverty, betrayal, murder, dark family themes — check the author’s notes for the full list

How Spicy Is Like Sapphire Blue?

On a five-chili scale, Like Sapphire Blue lands around a 3/5. There is heat and chemistry, but the book leads with drama, character, and its central secret rather than putting spice front and center.

If you want a dark romance where the emotional and dramatic stakes carry the story and the heat is a satisfying element rather than the main event, this fits. Readers chasing a spice-forward read may find it more restrained than expected.

Who Should Read This Book?

You’ll likely love it if: you want dark romance with real emotional and dramatic weight, you enjoy underdog heroines and class-divide tension, and you like a slow-burn romance wrapped in a bigger story of secrets and betrayal.

You may want to skip it if: you want a high-heat spice-forward read, you prefer lighter or lower-stakes romance, or themes of poverty, betrayal, and violence are difficult for you.

In short: a grounded, emotionally charged dark sapphic drama for readers who want their romance to carry real stakes.

Frequently Asked Questions

Is Like Sapphire Blue a standalone?

Yes. It reads as a self-contained standalone dark sapphic romance, with Emma’s story told in full within the book.

Is it a true sapphic romance?

Yes. It’s a sapphic (f/f) dark romance centered on Emma and the woman she’s long been in love with, with their relationship woven through the larger dramatic arc.

How steamy is it, really?

Moderately steamy, around 3/5. There’s heat, but the book is more character- and drama-driven than spice-forward.

Does it have a happy ending?

Without spoilers, the book builds to an emotionally charged resolution of Emma’s arc. Given its dark themes, go in expecting a story that earns its ending rather than a light, breezy one.

What makes it “dark”?

The darkness comes from its themes rather than from cruelty in the romance — poverty, a devastating family secret, betrayal, and murder shape Emma’s world and raise the stakes throughout.

If You Loved Like Sapphire Blue, Read These Next

If Emma’s grounded, high-stakes story worked for you, explore more titles in our guide to the best dark sapphic romance, where you’ll find more emotionally weighty, morally-gray, and character-driven dark reads.

The Bottom Line

Like Sapphire Blue is a grounded, emotionally charged dark sapphic drama built on class, ambition, and a shattering family secret — and its 4.30 rating reflects how well that serious, character-driven approach lands. It’s dark in its stakes rather than its shock value, making it a rewarding pick for readers who want real weight behind their romance. Check Like Sapphire Blue on Amazon →

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The Eikna Overall Ranking

Our house scorecard, weighing the book across the dimensions that matter most to dark sapphic romance readers.

The Evidence Scorecard

Overall — ★★★★½ 4.3/5

  • ✓ Anchored to its verified 4.30 Goodreads average across 140+ ratings
  • ✓ Grounded, emotionally weighty dark romance
  • ✓ Darkness rooted in stakes, not shock value
  • ✓ A rewarding character-driven read

Romance — ★★★★ 4.0/5

  • ✓ Slow-burn love story with real longing
  • ✓ Plays out against genuine danger and betrayal
  • ✓ Emotionally satisfying rather than flashy
  • ✓ Woven through the larger dramatic arc

Characters — ★★★★½ 4.5/5

  • ✓ Emma is a compelling underdog heroine
  • ✓ Her ambition and grit anchor the book
  • ✓ Rich, believable emotional interiority
  • ✓ Character is the story’s greatest strength

Writing — ★★★★ 4.0/5

  • ✓ Grounded, emotionally attuned prose
  • ✓ Handles the class divide with nuance
  • ✓ Builds tension steadily toward the secret
  • ✓ Takes its themes seriously

Emotional Impact — ★★★★½ 4.5/5

  • ✓ The family secret lands with real force
  • ✓ Emma’s reckoning is genuinely affecting
  • ✓ Poverty and betrayal give it weight
  • ✓ Among the book’s strongest dimensions

Heat Level — ★★★ 3.0/5

  • ✓ Steamy but not spice-forward
  • ✓ Chemistry serves the emotional arc
  • ✓ Heat is one element among many
  • ✓ Moderate on the chili scale

Ending — ★★★★ 4.0/5

  • ✓ An emotionally charged, earned resolution
  • ✓ Fits the story’s dark, serious tone
  • ✓ Satisfying payoff to Emma’s arc
  • ✓ Not a light or breezy close

Re-read Value — ★★★½ 3.5/5

  • ✓ Rewards readers who love character drama
  • ✓ The secret hits differently on a reread
  • ✓ Weighty rather than casual comfort
  • ✓ Solid replay value for the right reader

Kiss of Seduction Review — Is It Worth Reading?

Verdict: A contemporary succubus romance that turns 5/5 heat into a genuine trauma-recovery arc, held back by a middle that readers keep calling repetitive.

Best for: Readers who want hurt/comfort, caretaking and explicit consent-forward fem-dom, and who are willing to spend 560 pages with a heroine who is frightened for a long time before she stops being frightened.

Heat level: ★★★★★ (5/5 — explicit and plentiful)

Rating: ★★★★☆ (4.1/5 — a 4.40 Goodreads average across 3,947 ratings, marked down for length and repetition)

Tropes: Hurt/comfort, caretaking, fem-dom and BDSM, protector heroine, praise kink, found family, age gap, human-and-monster, forced proximity, trauma recovery.

Kiss of Seduction by Rawnie Sabor is the first full-length book in the Court of Chains series, a self-published sapphic paranormal fantasy romance set in a present-day Chicago where demon and vampire courts hold territory, and it starts when Natalya — a greater Lust fiend whose touch is agony and whose kiss has killed hundreds — walks out of a hostile vampire estate carrying a human woman who has survived a year of captivity and who, impossibly, survives Natalya’s touch too.

It carries a 4.40 average across 3,947 Goodreads ratings, a 19-hour Allie Shae audiobook that rates higher than the book itself, and a review section that divides on one question above all others: whether 560 pages is the right length for this particular story. Both halves of that split are worth understanding before you start.

What Is Kiss of Seduction About?

Kiss of Seduction is urban fantasy far more than it is romantasy in the courtly, secondary-world sense. The setting is the real Chicago with a hidden hierarchy laid over it, which means the machinery of the book is territory, ownership and debt rather than prophecy or trials. That matters for tone: when a court claims a person here, the language is property law, not destiny. Readers on romance.io tag it most heavily as lesbian romance, demons, fem-dom, BDSM and caretaking — and only lightly as dark romance, which is a useful early signal about what the book actually does.

Evie is introduced through what has been taken from her: a year inside the Court of Night, valued only for blood that vampires find rare, and no expectation left of ever being outside again. Natalya is introduced through what she assumes about herself — that she is a weapon, that intimacy is something she rations, and that anyone who learns what she is will eventually flinch. The book runs largely on their two perspectives with occasional villain chapters, and that structure is what lets the romance be a recovery story on both sides rather than one woman healing the other.

What Makes This Sapphic Succubus Romance Work

  • The healing arc: The most-praised element by a distance. Reviewers repeatedly say the recovery is slow, non-linear and never solved by falling in love, and several name that specifically as what other trauma romances get wrong.
  • Natalya: Readers describe her as multifaceted rather than an untouchable dominant — a powerful character allowed to be uncertain, which reviewers flag as unusual for the D/s dynamic she is written into.
  • Consent as heat: The spice is explicit and the negotiation is on the page. Multiple reviewers say the sex scenes carry the character development rather than pausing it.
  • Accessible worldbuilding: The opening glossary comes up again and again in positive reviews as the thing that makes a large invented hierarchy readable inside a romance.
  • A complete book: It resolves, it has an epilogue, and the author states plainly that every Court of Chains title except one is a full standalone.

Book Synopsis

Evie has been inside the estate of the Court of Night for over a year. Her blood is rare enough that the vampires who hold her treat her as an asset, and the arithmetic of that is simple: an asset is kept alive and it is never released. She has stopped counting on rescue, stopped counting much of anything, and has arranged her interior life around surviving the next hour.

Natalya arrives at the estate on court business that goes badly. She is second-in-command of the Chicago-based Court of Chains and a greater Lust fiend — a succubus, one of the rarest monsters there is, whose skin causes pain and whose kiss is fatal to mortals. She is not there for Evie. She leaves with her anyway, and the human she has made herself responsible for is widely assumed to be too damaged to recover.

Then Natalya touches her and nothing happens. No agony, no death sentence, none of the things that have defined what Natalya is since she became it. Evie is the only person alive who can be held by her without consequence, and neither of them knows why. What follows is an apartment, a therapist, a strange found family of court members who fold Evie in without asking her to explain herself, and a slow discovery that being safe is harder to learn than being afraid.

The Court of Night, meanwhile, has not written her off. Its king is patient, he considers Evie his property, and there is exactly one thing in the city rarer than her blood: the bound power of a greater fiend. The question driving the back half is not whether he comes for her. It is what Natalya is willing to become to stop him.

My Review

The thing this book does better than almost anything else in its lane is refuse the shortcut. Trauma romance usually runs on a quiet promise that love is the cure, and Kiss of Seduction declines it. Evie goes to therapy. She has bad days after good ones. She is still working when the book ends, and the epilogue does not pretend otherwise. That is the single most consistent thing readers name, and having read the reviews, I think they are right about it — it is the reason a 560-page indie paranormal romance has nearly four thousand Goodreads ratings.

Kiss of Seduction by Rawnie Sabor book cover

The second real strength is that the heat is load-bearing. This is a 5/5 book and the fem-dom and BDSM material is graphic, but Sabor writes it as the mechanism of the recovery rather than a reward stapled on top: Evie reclaiming her own body, choosing, setting terms, being asked. Reviewers keep saying versions of the same thing — that the intimacy carries character growth instead of interrupting it — and it is a genuinely hard trick, because it requires the negotiation to be sexy rather than procedural.

Where it struggles is length, and this is not my taste talking — it is the dominant complaint in the low-star reviews by a wide margin. Of the seventeen two-star reviews on Goodreads, five are explicit did-not-finish notes, and they abandon it at 30%, 33%, 40%, 50% and 57%. The reason given is almost always the same: every scene runs long, the middle repeats itself, the book fizzles. Around that sit two smaller recurring notes. Several reviewers describe the prose as repetitive at the sentence level, one saying the same line gets restated three times for emphasis; one two-star reviewer’s entire review is the line “No editors were harmed in the making of this novel.” And a handful find Evie too passive for too long, defined by her past rather than developed past it. StoryGraph’s 5% did-not-finish rate is actually low for a book this size — well under the 9% I recorded on Her Spell That Binds Me this month — so the people who bounce are a real minority. They are just an unusually specific one.

Two expectations to reset. First, the pacing: nothing here is marketed as slow burn, but several readers arrived expecting it and found the feelings landing around the 10% mark, and romance.io carries an insta-love tag on it. Second, the darkness. It is sold and shelved as dark, and it is heavy — StoryGraph readers mark it dark 89% of the time — but the worst of it is off the page and in the past. At least one reviewer says plainly it reads as paranormal romance rather than dark romance. Meanwhile a separate group of readers, several of them independently, say the sheer saturation of sexual violence as a threat wore them down even unwritten. If “dark” is what drew you, expect aftermath rather than on-page cruelty. If “dark” is what worried you, this is still a book about rape recovery and you should read the content notes first.

My honest note: A five-star emotional arc inside a book that is at least a hundred pages longer than it needs to be. If you read romance for the recovery and the caretaking, this will be one of the best things you read this year. If a repetitive middle makes you put a book down, this one runs 560 pages and it will test you.

Element In Kiss of Seduction
Central relationship Evie & Natalya — a human survivor and the succubus who takes responsibility for her, hurt/comfort with a D/s dynamic
Core tropes Hurt/comfort, caretaking, fem-dom and BDSM, protector heroine, found family, age gap, forced proximity
Setting Present-day Chicago — the Court of Chains against the vampiric Court of Night
Heat level 5/5 — explicit and plentiful
Series Court of Chains book 1 — a complete standalone with an HEA and an epilogue; Kiss of Love returns to this couple
Content notes Graphic sexual content, slavery and enslavement, sexual violence, rape and sexual assault (largely off page), kidnapping, torture, panic attacks and dissociation, physical abuse, grief and death of a partner, references to self-harm

How Dark and Spicy Is Kiss of Seduction?

A full 5/5. romance.io rates the steam level “explicit and plentiful,” its top band, the same one it gives the most explicit titles in the genre — and its most-voted content tags for this book are fem-dom, BDSM, bondage and praise kink, which tells you the shape of the heat as well as the volume. Readers treat the spice as a headline feature. What they praise more often, though, is its length and detail: several say the scenes are unusually extended and that this is exactly what they wanted, because the emotional work happens inside them rather than around them.

The element worth naming in advance is not a kink, it is the framing. The dominance here is negotiated, safe-worded and repeatedly checked, which most readers describe as cathartic — but one one-star reviewer found that same carefulness mechanical, comparing it to a sanitised checklist. That is a single voice and I have not seen it echoed, but it is a coherent objection and worth knowing it exists. Beyond that, the darkness is retrospective: no reviewer I found describes on-page torture or on-page assault. If you want this heat band elsewhere on the site, Her Spell That Binds Me and Tryst Six Venom both sit at 5/5.

Who Should Read This Book?

You’ll likely love it if: you read for hurt/comfort and caretaking above plot momentum, you want explicit heat that carries the character arc rather than pausing it, you like a protective, dangerous heroine who is allowed to be uncertain, and you would rather have a long book that takes its time than a tight one that skips the recovery.

You may want to skip it if: a repetitive middle makes you put books down, you need a slow burn and will feel cheated when the feelings arrive early, you have limited patience for a heroine who spends a long stretch frightened and passive, or sexual violence as a constant background threat is something you cannot read even off the page.

In short: the best trauma-recovery romance arc I have read this month, inside a book that keeps saying the same thing twice.

What Readers Are Actually Saying (August 2026)

There is no viral moment here, and there are no trade or blog reviews from the usual outlets — no Publishers Weekly, no Kirkus, no Library Journal, which is normal for a self-published title and worth saying rather than leaving you to assume I did not look. TikTok activity for the author traces almost entirely to her own account. I could not reach Reddit during this sweep, so I am making no claim either way about what is being said there. What is driving this book is threefold: it is on Kindle Unlimited and ranks around #31 in Amazon’s LGBTQ+ Fantasy Fiction chart; a network of sapphic review accounts on Goodreads and Bookstagram keep recommending it to each other; and, most consequentially, it went into audio. Allie Shae narrates all 19 hours and 6 minutes for the author’s own imprint, Red Ink Caravan, with the edition dated 11 February 2025 on Libro.fm and 7 April 2025 on Audible. That audiobook holds a 4.9 average across 176 Audible ratings — materially higher than the 4.6 the Kindle edition holds across 1,936 — and Shae has since narrated four more books in this world. Jude in the Stars, one of the few sapphic audio blogs reviewing at this depth, called the narration “one of the absolute best I have ever listened to.”

Prefer audio? Listen to Kiss of Seduction on Libro.fm — the audiobook shop that supports independent bookstores.

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Why readers love it (according to the discourse): The healing arc, first and most consistently. Reviewers return to the same point in different words — that the trauma does not vanish when the romance starts, that Evie is never infantilised, that love is not written as a cure. Then Natalya, who draws real affection for being powerful and vulnerable at once; reviewers specifically praise a dominant character who is not treated as infallible. The spice gets named as a feature rather than a garnish, with the consent and the negotiation cited as part of why it works. The found family around the couple has its own following. And StoryGraph’s structured data backs the character claims hard: 91% of readers say the character development is strong and 91% call the characters loveable, on 902 ratings. A notable minority reading in the reverse direction: at least one reviewer says the extended, careful D/s scenes read as procedural rather than charged, which is the exact inverse of the majority verdict.

What readers argue about and complain about: Length, above everything. The book runs 560 pages and the two-star shelf is largely a list of people who ran out of road — five explicit did-not-finish notes between 30% and 57%, all naming the same mechanism, that individual scenes overstay and the middle circles rather than advances. Second: repetition at the line level. Several reviewers describe the same idea restated for emphasis and say the book needed another editing pass; a few note typos. This is a real recurring theme but it is raised as a nitpick far more often than as a dealbreaker, including by five-star reviewers. Third: Evie. A recurring minority finds her defined by her trauma to the point of flatness, and one reviewer bluntly says her fearfulness became unbearable. Beyond that sit two genuine splits. The pacing divides — readers who wanted slow burn found the feelings arriving early, while others say the long timeline made the relationship believable. And the sexual violence divides harder: some praise it as the most honest handling of assault recovery they have read, while at least four independent reviewers say the constant threat of it, even off page, is simply too much across 560 pages. One reader raises a separate objection, that the two leads are the only queer characters in the book.

The standalone question worth asking first: it resolves. Book one closes its arc, delivers a happily-ever-after and an epilogue readers single out as satisfying, and Sabor states on her own site that every Court of Chains title except Kiss of Love is a complete standalone with recurring characters. Nothing is required after this. Where you go next is a real choice rather than a courtesy: Kiss of Love is the one that returns to Evie and Natalya and sits at 4.46 across 786 ratings, but it is the sequel that is explicitly not standalone. A Little Sin is the next primary book at 4.41 across 2,431. And the highest-rated entry in the whole series is book three, Green-Eyed Monster, at 4.55 across 1,787 — which is worth knowing, because it means the craft complaints get quieter as the series goes on.

Frequently Asked Questions

Does Kiss of Seduction end on a cliffhanger?

No. It resolves its arc, delivers a happily-ever-after for Evie and Natalya, and closes with an epilogue that reviewers consistently praise. The author’s own product page states it is a complete standalone that can be read with no knowledge of the wider Court of Chains universe.

How spicy is Kiss of Seduction?

A 5/5. romance.io rates it “explicit and plentiful,” its top band, and its most-voted tags are fem-dom, BDSM, bondage and praise kink. The scenes are graphic, long and frequent, and readers treat them as central to the story rather than decorative.

Do I need to read the Court of Chains books in order?

No. Sabor’s suggested reading order starts with Kiss of Seduction, but she states that every title except Kiss of Love is a full standalone with recurring characters and minor overlapping storylines. Several reviewers report reading the series out of order without confusion.

Is Kiss of Seduction actually a dark romance?

Partly. It is heavy — 89% of StoryGraph readers mark it dark — but the captivity, torture and assault are almost entirely off page and in the past, and the book itself is a recovery story. At least one reviewer calls it paranormal romance rather than dark romance, and romance.io’s readers tag hurt/comfort and caretaking far more often than they tag dark romance.

Is there an audiobook?

Yes — narrated by Allie Shae for Red Ink Caravan, running 19 hours and 6 minutes, dated 11 February 2025 on Libro.fm and 7 April 2025 on Audible. It holds a 4.9 average across 176 Audible ratings, higher than the ebook, and Shae has gone on to narrate four more books in this world.

What are the content warnings for Kiss of Seduction?

StoryGraph readers flag sexual content, slavery and sexual violence as graphic, with rape, sexual assault and panic attacks as moderate and physical abuse, kidnapping and alcohol as minor. Reader-compiled lists add torture, grief, death of a partner, references to self-harm and dissociation. Sabor maintains a full content-warning page on her own site, and reviewers routinely recommend reading it first.

If You Loved Kiss of Seduction, Read These Next

Readers who want the same explicit band with a different engine land most often on Tryst Six Venom, which runs the same 5/5 heat and the same power-imbalance charge in a contemporary setting with no fantasy scaffolding at all. If the magic and the closed hierarchy were the draw, Her Spell That Binds Me offers the same explicit sapphic romantasy register with a rivals dynamic in place of the caretaking — though its prose divides readers far more sharply than this one’s does. And the truest read-alike is Sabor’s own Green-Eyed Monster, the highest-rated book in this series, which we have not reviewed yet — so browse our paranormal and fantasy lesbian romance collection, our complete spicy sapphic romantasy reading list, the wider best sapphic romantasy hub, or the full Book Reviews collection.

The Bottom Line

Kiss of Seduction sets out to write a romance where the sex is the healing rather than the reward, and it succeeds at that more completely than most books that try. The recovery arc is honest, Natalya is a genuinely well-built character, and the heat is explicit, negotiated and central. It is also too long, repetitive at the sentence level, and built around a heroine who stays passive for longer than a minority of readers can tolerate. Whether that trade works depends almost entirely on whether you read for emotional texture or for momentum — but for the reader who wants to watch someone get slowly, believably better, this is a complete standalone with an ending that earns itself. Check Kiss of Seduction on Amazon →

The Eikna Overall Ranking

On the Eikna scale, Kiss of Seduction ranks as a standout indie sapphic hurt/comfort romance — emotionally rigorous and genuinely explicit, held back by its own length, and best approached for the recovery and the caretaking rather than the plot.

The Evidence Scorecard

Overall ★★★★☆ 4.1/5

  • ✓ 4.40 average across 3,947 Goodreads ratings
  • ✓ Recovery arc is the near-unanimous strength
  • ✓ 4.9 on Audible across 176 ratings
  • ✓ Length is the dominant recurring complaint

Romance ★★★★☆ 4.4/5

  • ✓ Both leads recover, not just one
  • ✓ Caretaking dynamic is the most-praised element
  • ✓ Trust built on the page, not asserted
  • ✓ Feelings land early for a book this size

Characters ★★★★☆ 4/5

  • ✓ 91% on StoryGraph say development is strong
  • ✓ Natalya allowed power and uncertainty at once
  • ✓ Found family draws its own following
  • ✓ A minority find Evie defined only by trauma

Writing ★★★☆☆ 3.5/5

  • ✓ Opening glossary praised repeatedly
  • ✓ Worldbuilding legible without slowing the romance
  • ✓ Extended intimate scenes carry real craft
  • ✓ Repetition and typos recur across reviews

Emotional Impact ★★★★★ 4.5/5

  • ✓ 81% of StoryGraph readers mark it emotional
  • ✓ Refuses the love-as-cure shortcut
  • ✓ Readers report crying and rereading
  • ✓ Sexual-violence saturation costs some readers the catharsis

Heat Level ★★★★★ 5/5

  • ✓ Explicit and plentiful, romance.io’s top band
  • ✓ Fem-dom, BDSM and bondage are the top tags
  • ✓ Consent negotiated on the page
  • ✓ One reviewer finds the care mechanical

Ending ★★★★☆ 4.3/5

  • ✓ Complete standalone, no cliffhanger
  • ✓ Epilogue singled out as satisfying
  • ✓ Recovery deliberately left unfinished
  • ✓ Villain resolution called predictable

Re-read Value ★★★★☆ 4.2/5

  • ✓ Named a comfort reread by repeat readers
  • ✓ Allie Shae audio is a strong second pass
  • ✓ Four more books pull readers back
  • ✓ 560 pages discourage a quick return

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Savage Review | Chaos Davie | Is It Worth Reading?

Verdict: A slick, high-heat sapphic crime romance with a ruthless queenpin heroine and a HEA — dark, spicy, and hugely satisfying for readers who love morally-gray power players.

Best for: Fans of dark mafia/crime romance who want a dominant, dangerous love interest, enemies-to-lovers sparks, real spice, and a happy ending despite the bloodshed.

Heat: 🌶🌶🌶🌶 (4/5 — explicit and frequent)

Rating: ★★★★½ (4.38 average across 440+ Goodreads ratings — a strong, enthusiastic reader signal)

Tropes: Dark mafia/crime romance · enemies-to-lovers · morally-gray queenpin · dual POV · interconnected standalone · HEA

Savage by Chaos Davie is exactly the kind of high-octane, morally-gray title that lands on any good list of dark sapphic romance recommendations. It pairs a bloodstained crime-boss heroine with a woman carrying dangerous secrets, and delivers plenty of heat alongside the danger. This review breaks down what it is, who it’s for, and why readers are rating it so highly.

What Is Savage About?

Savage is the second book in The Triarchy Collection, a set of interconnected standalone sapphic dark romances that Chaos Davie (the dark-romance pen name of C.C. Davie) writes for an adult audience. It follows Erryn Loxley, who rules London’s Triarchy with an iron heart and a bloodstained crown — until Helena crashes into her world and throws everything into turmoil.

Erryn never planned to fall for anyone, least of all a woman with shadows buried in her past. When those shadows resurface, she’s forced to choose between keeping her throne and risking it all for the woman threatening to unravel her. It’s a dual-POV story where every road, as the book warns, is paved in blood.

What Makes This Dark Crime Romance Work

Its 4.38 rating isn’t an accident — Savage hits the marks dark-romance readers come for:

  • A genuinely powerful heroine. Erryn is a ruthless queenpin, not a softened one — morally-gray done right.
  • Real enemies-to-lovers tension. The push-pull between Erryn and Helena crackles.
  • Dual POV that earns its keep. Seeing both women’s inner worlds deepens the stakes.
  • High, well-integrated heat. The spice is frequent and serves the power dynamic.
  • A satisfying HEA. Despite the darkness and body count, the payoff lands.

Book Synopsis

Erryn Loxley sits at the top of London’s criminal Triarchy, having built and defended her position with an unflinching hand. She’s not looking for love — love is a liability in her world — but Helena’s arrival upends the careful control she’s spent years perfecting.

As Helena’s past comes back into play, the two are drawn together even as the danger around them escalates. Savage balances its crime-world plot with a slow-burning, high-heat romance, building toward a resolution that gives readers the happy ending the genre so often withholds — without pretending the road there was clean.

Savage by Chaos Davie book coverI had a great time with Savage. It knows exactly what it is — a slick, spicy, dangerous sapphic crime romance — and it delivers without apology. Erryn is the standout: a heroine who is genuinely powerful and morally gray rather than a soft character wearing a dangerous costume, and that commitment is what makes the whole book work.

The dual POV is used well, letting the tension between Erryn and Helena breathe from both sides, and the heat is frequent and well-integrated into the power dynamic rather than bolted on. At 242 pages it moves quickly, and its 4.38 average reflects how consistently readers are responding to it.

My honest note: because it’s an interconnected standalone in an ongoing collection, a few threads clearly connect to the wider world, and readers who haven’t read Book 1 may sense they’re missing some context on the periphery. It still stands alone with a complete arc and a HEA — but as always with dark romance, check the author’s content warnings before diving in.

ElementIn Savage
Central relationshipErryn (crime boss) & Helena, f/f, dual POV
Core tropesDark crime romance, enemies-to-lovers, morally-gray queenpin
SettingLondon’s criminal underworld (The Triarchy)
Heat level🌶🌶🌶🌶 (4/5) — explicit and frequent
SeriesThe Triarchy Collection #2 (interconnected standalone)
Content notesViolence, dark themes, adult content — check the author’s notes for the full list

How Spicy Is Savage?

On a five-chili scale, Savage lands around a 4/5. The intimate scenes are explicit and frequent, and they lean into the dominant/dangerous energy that defines Erryn as a character.

Crucially, the heat feels purposeful rather than gratuitous — it’s tied to the power dynamic between the two leads, which makes it land harder than spice for its own sake. If you want a dark romance where the steam is a core feature, this delivers.

Who Should Read This Book?

You’ll likely love it if: you love dark mafia/crime romance, you want a genuinely powerful and morally-gray heroine, you enjoy enemies-to-lovers with real heat, and you want a HEA at the end of the darkness.

You may want to skip it if: violence and dark themes aren’t for you, you prefer low-heat or slow-burn-only romance, or you dislike interconnected series where some threads reach beyond the single book.

In short: a confident, satisfying dark crime romance for readers who want their sapphic love stories dangerous, spicy, and ultimately hopeful.

Frequently Asked Questions

Is Savage a standalone?

Yes and no. It’s the second book in The Triarchy Collection but is written as an interconnected standalone — it has a complete arc and HEA on its own, though it shares a world with the other books.

Is it a true sapphic romance?

Yes. It’s a dual-POV sapphic (f/f) dark romance with a central love story between Erryn and Helena at its core.

How steamy is it, really?

Quite steamy, around 4/5. The explicit content is frequent and tied to the dominant power dynamic between the leads.

Does it have a happy ending?

Yes — the author confirms it ends on a HEA, so you get the dark journey and a satisfying payoff.

Do I need to read Book 1 first?

Not strictly. Savage stands on its own, but reading The Triarchy Collection in order adds context and richness to the shared world.

If You Loved Savage, Read These Next

If Erryn’s ruthless charm and the high-heat crime setting worked for you, explore more titles in our guide to the best dark sapphic romance, where you’ll find more morally-gray power players, mafia romances, and spicy enemies-to-lovers reads.

The Bottom Line

Savage is a slick, spicy, satisfying sapphic dark romance built around a genuinely powerful queenpin heroine and a dangerous enemies-to-lovers dynamic — and its 4.38 rating shows how well it’s connecting with readers. It’s dark and violent but delivers a HEA, making it an easy recommendation for fans of the subgenre. Check Savage on Amazon →

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The Eikna Overall Ranking

Our house scorecard, weighing the book across the dimensions that matter most to dark sapphic romance readers.

The Evidence Scorecard

Overall — ★★★★½ 4.4/5

  • ✓ Anchored to its verified 4.38 Goodreads average across 440+ ratings
  • ✓ Delivers exactly what dark crime-romance fans want
  • ✓ Strong heroine, real heat, and a satisfying HEA
  • ✓ A confident, easy recommendation for the subgenre

Romance — ★★★★½ 4.4/5

  • ✓ Crackling enemies-to-lovers chemistry
  • ✓ Dual POV deepens the connection
  • ✓ Dangerous but genuinely swoony
  • ✓ The heart of the book’s appeal

Characters — ★★★★½ 4.5/5

  • ✓ Erryn is a standout morally-gray queenpin
  • ✓ Helena’s hidden past adds real tension
  • ✓ Both leads feel distinct and vivid
  • ✓ No softening of the dangerous edges

Writing — ★★★★ 4.0/5

  • ✓ Slick, propulsive prose
  • ✓ Handles dual POV cleanly
  • ✓ Tight pacing across 242 pages
  • ✓ Confident command of the subgenre

Emotional Impact — ★★★★ 4.0/5

  • ✓ High-stakes tension throughout
  • ✓ The power dynamic lands emotionally
  • ✓ Satisfying payoff after the darkness
  • ✓ Gripping rather than gutting

Heat Level — ★★★★ 4.0/5

  • ✓ Explicit and frequent intimate scenes
  • ✓ Tied to the dominant power dynamic
  • ✓ Purposeful rather than gratuitous
  • ✓ A core feature of the book

Ending — ★★★★½ 4.5/5

  • ✓ Confirmed HEA despite the bloodshed
  • ✓ Resolves the central arc satisfyingly
  • ✓ Rewards readers who stayed for the danger
  • ✓ Rare and welcome in dark romance

Re-read Value — ★★★★ 4.0/5

  • ✓ Fast, fun, and re-readable
  • ✓ Erryn is a heroine worth revisiting
  • ✓ Connects into a wider collection to explore
  • ✓ High replay value for genre fans

Lifers Review | K.C. Blume | Is It Worth Reading?

Verdict: A short, raw, emotionally intense dark sapphic novella set in a psychiatric facility — haunting and beautifully written, but heavy on the content warnings and not a comfort read.

Best for: Readers who want a dark, character-driven novella about obsession and connection in a bleak setting, and who are comfortable with mental-illness and self-harm themes.

Heat: 🌶🌶🌶 (3/5 — explicit but not the focus; the emotional darkness is)

Rating: ★★★¾ (3.78 average across 960+ Goodreads ratings — a strong reader signal for such a dark, niche novella)

Tropes: Dark romance · psychiatric facility setting · obsession · mental illness · angst · novella · standalone

Lifers by K.C. Blume is one of the shortest but most unsettling titles you’ll find in any list of dark sapphic romance recommendations. At under 100 pages, it delivers a concentrated dose of darkness — obsession, mental illness, and a fragile connection formed inside a psychiatric facility. This review breaks down exactly what it is, who it’s for, and the content warnings you need before you open it.

What Is Lifers About?

Lifers is a standalone dark sapphic romance novella set inside Elsberry State Psychiatric facility. It’s told through Riley, a long-term patient who describes time passing not in days but in the people who come and go — until Blair arrives by ambulance, wrists wrapped in gauze, and time seems to stop.

What blooms between them is intense, immediate, and deeply entangled with Riley’s own fixations. Her doctor warns her she’s spiraling again, but Riley is certain that what she and Blair have is real. It’s a claustrophobic, unreliable-narrator story where love and obsession are almost impossible to tell apart.

What Makes This Dark Novella Work

For a book this short, Lifers punches far above its page count:

  • A distinctive, immersive voice. Riley’s first-person narration is hypnotic and unsettling in equal measure.
  • Concentrated intensity. At under 100 pages, there’s no filler — every scene lands hard.
  • An unreliable narrator done well. You’re never fully sure what’s real, which mirrors Riley’s own experience.
  • A genuinely dark, specific setting. The psychiatric facility is rendered bleakly and vividly.
  • Emotional rawness. It doesn’t flinch from mental illness, and its honesty is part of the appeal.

Book Synopsis

Riley has been at Elsberry long enough to become a fixture, watching others cycle through while she stays behind. She’s learned to measure her life by the people she loses. When Blair arrives in the wake of a crisis, something in Riley latches on immediately — a connection she’s convinced is love.

As the two grow closer, the story keeps you off balance: is this the real thing, or another of Riley’s fixations that the staff keep warning her about? Told in a short, sharp burst, Lifers builds toward a conclusion that stays true to its dark premise rather than offering easy reassurance.

Lifers by K.C. Blume book coverI went in expecting something bleak, and Lifers delivered — but it’s more emotionally sophisticated than its short length suggests. Blume’s writing is spare and controlled, and Riley’s voice pulled me in immediately. At 98 pages it’s a single sitting, but it lingers far longer than that.

Its 3.78 rating feels fair. The unreliable-narrator framing is the standout — you’re constantly recalibrating what you think is happening, which makes the obsession at the heart of the story genuinely uneasy to read. This is not a swoony romance; it’s a portrait of two damaged people clinging to each other in a place designed to keep them apart.

My honest caveat is the content. This book deals directly with self-harm, suicide, and serious mental illness, and it does not wrap things up with a tidy happy ending. That’s the point — but it means Lifers is a book to approach deliberately, when you’re in the right headspace, and with the warnings firmly in mind.

ElementIn Lifers
Central relationshipRiley & Blair, f/f, inside a psychiatric facility
Core tropesDark romance, obsession, unreliable narrator, mental illness
SettingElsberry State Psychiatric facility
Heat level🌶🌶🌶 (3/5) — explicit but not the focus
SeriesStandalone novella (~98 pages)
Content notesSelf-harm, suicide, mental illness, obsession — check the author’s notes for the full list

How Spicy Is Lifers?

On a five-chili scale, Lifers sits around a 3/5. There is explicit content, but heat is not what the book is built around — the intimacy serves the emotional and psychological story rather than the other way around.

The real intensity here is emotional and thematic, not sexual. If you’re coming for spice as the main draw, this isn’t that book; if you’re coming for a dark, character-driven story where the heat is one element among heavier ones, it fits.

Who Should Read This Book?

You’ll likely love it if: you want a short, intense dark novella, you appreciate unreliable narrators and morally complex, damaged characters, and you’re comfortable with heavy mental-health themes handled unflinchingly.

You may want to skip it if: self-harm and suicide content are things you can’t read, you want a reassuring happy ending, or you’re looking for a lighter or more escapist sapphic romance.

In short: a small, sharp, haunting book for readers who want their dark romance genuinely dark — but only when you’re in the right frame of mind.

Frequently Asked Questions

Is Lifers a standalone?

Yes. It’s a self-contained standalone novella of roughly 98 pages, with no sequel required to feel complete.

Is it a true sapphic romance?

It’s a sapphic (f/f) dark romance, but it leans heavily into dark fiction — the central relationship is entangled with obsession and mental illness rather than a conventional courtship.

How steamy is it, really?

Moderately explicit, around 3/5, but heat is not the focus. The emotional and psychological darkness is what defines the book.

Does it have a happy ending?

No — and that’s deliberate. Lifers does not offer a traditional HEA; it stays true to its bleak premise, so go in expecting dark fiction rather than a comfort read.

How heavy are the content warnings?

Very heavy. The book deals directly with self-harm, suicide, and serious mental illness. Please check the author’s content notes and only read it when you’re in a good headspace to do so.

If You Loved Lifers, Read These Next

If Blume’s raw, unflinching approach resonated with you, browse more titles in our guide to the best dark sapphic romance, where you’ll find other emotionally intense, morally-gray, and genuinely dark reads.

The Bottom Line

Lifers is a short, haunting dark sapphic novella that uses its psychiatric-facility setting and unreliable narrator to explore the blurry line between love and obsession. It’s beautifully written and emotionally raw, with a solid 3.78 reader rating — but its heavy content and deliberate lack of a happy ending make it a read to choose carefully. Check Lifers on Amazon →

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The Eikna Overall Ranking

Our house scorecard, weighing the book across the dimensions that matter most to dark sapphic romance readers.

The Evidence Scorecard

Overall — ★★★¾ 3.8/5

  • ✓ Anchored to its verified 3.78 Goodreads average across 960+ ratings
  • ✓ Punches well above its short page count
  • ✓ A haunting, well-crafted dark novella for the right reader
  • ✓ Held back only by how heavy and niche its content is

Romance — ★★★ 3.0/5

  • ✓ The connection is intense but entangled with obsession
  • ✓ More dark fiction than conventional love story
  • ✓ Emotionally real, but far from swoony
  • ✓ Deliberately uneasy rather than comforting

Characters — ★★★★ 4.0/5

  • ✓ Riley is a compelling, unsettling unreliable narrator
  • ✓ Blair is drawn with real fragility and depth
  • ✓ Damaged, complex, and believable throughout
  • ✓ The character work is the book’s emotional core

Writing — ★★★★ 4.0/5

  • ✓ Spare, controlled prose that suits the bleak tone
  • ✓ Riley’s voice is distinctive and immersive
  • ✓ No filler — every scene earns its place
  • ✓ Handles heavy themes with care

Emotional Impact — ★★★★½ 4.5/5

  • ✓ Lingers far longer than its 98 pages
  • ✓ Genuinely unsettling and affecting
  • ✓ Its honesty about mental illness hits hard
  • ✓ The strongest dimension of the book

Heat Level — ★★★ 3.0/5

  • ✓ Explicit content is present but not the focus
  • ✓ Intimacy serves the emotional story
  • ✓ Moderate on the chili scale
  • ✓ Not an escapist spice read

Ending — ★★★ 3.0/5

  • ✓ No traditional happy ending, by design
  • ✓ Stays true to the dark premise
  • ✓ Fitting rather than satisfying in a cozy sense
  • ✓ Will frustrate readers wanting an HEA

Re-read Value — ★★★ 3.0/5

  • ✓ Short enough to revisit easily
  • ✓ Heavy content limits casual re-reading
  • ✓ The unreliable narration rewards a second pass
  • ✓ A book you sit with more than you re-read

Captive in the Underworld Review — Is It Worth Reading?

Verdict: A beautifully written Hades/Persephone retelling that means every word of its content warnings — a real romance arc built on kidnapping, captivity and on-page rape, undercut by a sagging middle and a heroine who spends too long being acted upon.

Best for: Readers who actively seek non-con dark romance, who can tell the difference between a book depicting abuse and a book endorsing it, and who will trade mutual desire for a captor-and-captive story that names itself abuse on the page.

Heat level: ★★★★★ (5/5 — explicit and plentiful)

Rating: ★★★★☆ (3.7/5 — a 3.52 Goodreads average across 3,346 ratings, where most of the one-star weight is readers rejecting the premise rather than the craft)

Tropes: Dark romance, captor and captive, non-con and dub-con, gender-swapped myth retelling, abduction, forced marriage, ice queen, virgin heroine, abusive parent, bondage and spanking.

Captive in the Underworld by Lianyu Tan is the first of two Queen Hades books, a self-published dark sapphic romance issued through Shattered Scepter Press in January 2021, set in a mythological ancient Greece where a female Queen Hades takes what she wants and what she wants is Persephone — a goddess already worn down by her mother, who is dragged below and told to satisfy her keeper or suffer for refusing.

It holds a 3.52 average across 3,346 Goodreads ratings, 3.36 across 997 on StoryGraph, and 4.3 across 978 on Amazon — a platform gap wide enough to be a finding in itself. Twenty-nine percent of Goodreads raters give it four stars and nineteen percent give it one or two, and those two groups are describing the same scenes. Both halves of that split are worth understanding before you start.

What Is Captive in the Underworld About?

Captive in the Underworld is a sapphic fantasy retelling of the abduction myth, and it is the abduction that it retells — not the softened modern version where Persephone chooses the dark. Amazon files it under LGBTQ+ Fantasy Fiction and Greek and Roman Myth and Legend rather than Romance, which is a more honest signal than the pomegranate on the cover. StoryGraph readers tag it dark at 97 percent, tense at 53 percent, and 56 percent say it is character-driven.

Persephone arrives with nothing of her own: no autonomy, no suitors her mother has not driven off, and a lifetime of being managed by Demeter, whose control is written as sustained emotional and physical abuse. Hades assumes ownership. She is the Queen of the dead, her word is law in her realm, and she treats Persephone as a thing acquired rather than a woman courted. The book stays close to Persephone throughout, which is the structural choice that makes it work and also the one that makes it unbearable for some readers: you are inside the person it is happening to.

What Makes This Dark Sapphic Mythology Retelling Work

  • The prose: Easily the most-praised element. Reviewers reach for words like lush, gorgeous and elegant, and several say it reads with the cadence of actual myth rather than of a romance novel wearing a chiton.
  • Hades as a character: Readers who love the book almost always name her first — cruel, controlled and genuinely frightening, with a late softening that they say is earned rather than switched on.
  • Refusing to sanitise: One blog reviewer credits it with staging the wedding night as exactly what it is, with “no hand-waving, no magical sex-fix.” The book does not pretend the coercion away in order to get to the romance.
  • Demeter: The most surprising thing in the reader reviews is how many people found the mother more disturbing than the captor. Her abuse of Persephone is the emotional engine, and at least one reviewer argues she is the book’s real villain.
  • The heat: Rated 5/5 and labelled “explicit and plentiful” by romance.io, its top band, with bondage, spanking and BDSM among its most-applied tags.

Book Synopsis

Persephone lives under her mother’s supervision the way a plant lives under glass. Demeter has turned away every suitor, monitors every movement and punishes every sign of independence, and Persephone has spent long enough inside that arrangement to have stopped expecting a different one. What she has instead is a small private hope that something will change.

Something does. Hades, Queen of the Underworld and sister to Zeus, has decided she wants the goddess of spring, and Hades does not negotiate for what she wants. Persephone is taken below into a realm where there is no sun, no season and no authority above the woman who took her. She is given a title, a household and a wedding night she did not agree to, and she is told plainly that her comfort depends on her compliance.

She tries to leave. She keeps trying to leave. And in the gaps between attempts, something starts happening that she has no framework for: her captor is also the first person who has ever asked her what she thinks, given her authority over anything, or looked at her as something other than an extension of someone else’s will. The question the book runs on is not whether Persephone escapes. It is what she becomes if she stops trying — and whether anything Hades does afterwards can be worth what she did first.

My Review

The writing is the reason this book has the reputation it has. Tan writes at a level well above the indie sapphic average — controlled, image-heavy, formal in a way that suits gods talking to each other, and never straining for effect. When readers say they finished it in one sitting despite hating what was happening, the sentences are why. That quality is close to unanimous across the reviews, and it is the single thing the five-star and the one-star camps agree on.

Captive in the Underworld by Lianyu Tan book cover

The second real strength is that the book is honest about its own content. Hades kidnaps, coerces and rapes Persephone, and the text says so; Persephone says so, in dialogue, to Hades’ face. Tan publishes an exhaustive content-warning list on her own site that names rape by the secondary lead, an abusive romantic relationship between the leads, and child abuse by a parent, and pairs it with a note telling readers that if someone treats you like this, “run.” The abuse is not styled as seduction. It is styled as abuse that a romance is later built on top of, which is a different and much more uncomfortable proposition.

Where it struggles is the middle and the shape of the protagonist. Multiple reviewers describe uneven pacing, a section that sags after a strong opening, and time jumps of a hundred years that flatten the emotional continuity rather than deepening it. Persephone is passive by design — that is the point of the book — but a real number of readers found that she stays passive past the point of usefulness, and wanted more reconciliation and more change from both leads than they got. StoryGraph’s 7 percent did-not-finish rate is not extreme, and the abandonments I read give the content rather than the boredom as the reason, but the craft complaints are there and they are not confined to the one-stars.

One expectation to reset, and it cuts both ways. This is not the dark romance where the cruelty is a costume and the desire is mutual from chapter two. Several one-star reviewers say outright that they need both partners visibly wanting each other for a dark romance to work, and that this book never gives them that; one puts it as bluntly as “I noped right out after Hades slapped Persephone.” Conversely, at least two readers report the opposite disappointment — that after the build-up the sex itself felt grim rather than titillating. If you want dark as a flavour, this will hurt you. If you want dark as a subject, this is one of the few sapphic books that actually commits.

My honest note: The best-written sapphic dark romance I have covered, and the one I would most hesitate to hand to someone. If the phrase “graphic non-con between the leads” is a dealbreaker, it is an absolute dealbreaker here — and if it is what you came for, nothing else in the subgenre is written this well.

Element In Captive in the Underworld
Central relationship Persephone & Queen Hades — captive and captor, an abusive relationship that the book names as abusive
Core tropes Dark romance, abduction, captor-captive, non-con and dub-con, forced marriage, ice queen, virgin heroine, BDSM
Setting A mythological ancient Greece, mostly the Underworld — sunless, seasonless and entirely under Hades’ law
Heat level 5/5 — explicit and plentiful, and a significant share of it non-consensual
Series Queen Hades book 1 of 2 — ends with the leads together; sequel Beloved in the Underworld announced for October 2027
Content notes Graphic rape of the protagonist by the other lead; non-consensual and dubiously consensual sex alongside consensual scenes; abusive romantic relationship between the leads; kidnapping and enforced captivity; emotional and physical child abuse by a parent; flogging, death and dismemberment; torture referenced; suicidal ideation; misogyny; animal harm and the killing of a drakon; bondage and spanking

How Dark and Spicy Is Captive in the Underworld?

A full 5/5. romance.io puts it in its top steam band and labels it “explicit and plentiful,” and its most-applied tags there include bondage, spanking, BDSM and virgin heroine. The scenes are long, graphic and frequent, and readers treat them as central rather than decorative. What separates this from other 5/5 titles is not the volume. It is that a substantial portion of the explicit content is written as non-consensual, and the book does not soften it into dub-con for comfort.

The element to flag in advance is therefore the whole spine of the book rather than one scene: the first sexual encounters between the leads happen without Persephone’s consent and are depicted at length, and the author’s own warning list places rape of the protagonist by the secondary main character at the top with the word graphic attached. Beyond that, no reviewer I found flags kink content past bondage, spanking and general BDSM, and one four-star reader argues the parental abuse is more distressing than any of the sex. If you want the same heat band without the consent content, Tryst Six Venom and Her Spell That Binds Me both sit at 5/5 and neither goes here.

Who Should Read This Book?

You’ll likely love it if: you read non-con dark romance deliberately and know why you do, you want mythic prose rather than romance-novel prose, you can sit inside a victim’s point of view for 342 pages, and you would rather a book admit what it is than dress it up.

You may want to skip it if: you need visible mutual desire for a dark romance to function, you want a captor who is redeemed early rather than very late, depictions of parental abuse hit harder for you than anything else, or you are looking for a romantasy in the current commercial sense and expect banter and a soft landing.

In short: the finest writing in the sapphic dark-romance shelf attached to the content most likely to make you close the book.

What Readers Are Actually Saying (August 2026)

Five years after publication this is still the default answer whenever someone asks for sapphic dark romance, and the discovery route is worth naming precisely. There are no trade reviews — no Publishers Weekly, no Kirkus, no Library Journal — and the Amazon editorial block is entirely author blurbs and blog quotes rather than professional coverage, which is normal for a self-published title. Tan herself is a Lambda Literary Award winner and a Golden Crown finalist, but both of those are for The Wicked and the Willing in 2023, not for this book; nothing I found attaches an award to Captive. What it has instead is BookTok, where it turns up organically in creator round-ups of dark sapphic romance rather than in author-run promotion, a durable position on Goodreads dark-sapphic shelves, and a June 2023 audiobook narrated by Eva Caine running 9 hours 26 minutes.

Prefer audio? Listen to Captive in the Underworld on Libro.fm — the audiobook shop that supports independent bookstores.

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Why readers love it (according to the discourse): The prose, first and by a distance — gorgeous, lush and engrossing are the recurring words, and more than one reader says they read it in a single sitting. Hades second: readers consistently praise how genuinely frightening she is allowed to be, and how late and how gradually the softening arrives. Third, and this is the notable one, readers praise the book’s refusal to romanticise what it depicts; the reviews that rate it highest tend to be the ones that say most explicitly that this is abuse. The mythological texture gets named often. Caine’s narration has its own following, with listeners saying the reading fits the tone and at least one reader returning to the story through audio.

What readers argue about and complain about: The consent content, above everything, and the complaint splits into two distinct objections that are worth separating. The first is moral and total — readers who feel they were sold a romance and handed assault, several of whom stopped within the first quarter. The second is a genre objection: that a dark romance requires visible want on both sides, and this book withholds it for most of its length, so the relationship never converts for them. Then the pacing. A strong opening followed by a middle that several readers describe as sagging, plus hundred-year time jumps that break the emotional throughline. Third, Persephone: passive by design, but a real number of readers wanted more agency, more change and more reconciliation than the book grants, and StoryGraph’s crowd bears this out — only 28 percent call the characters loveable, with 49 percent choosing “complicated.” A quieter split runs underneath all of it, on the sex itself: romance.io’s top heat band notwithstanding, at least two readers found the scenes dull or unerotic rather than confronting, which is close to the opposite of the majority complaint. One did-not-finish review dismisses the writing outright as forgettable, and it is a single voice against near-unanimous praise.

The series question everyone should ask first: book one resolves, and the ending is not ambiguous. The author’s own content-warning page labels it an HEA ending with the main characters together, two blog reviewers describe it building steadily to that, and one specifically describes the endpoint as a relationship of equals in which Hades respects Persephone’s agency. Whether an HEA between a rapist and her victim reads as a happy ending is the exact thing readers fight about, and this review is not going to pretend that question has one answer. On the series itself: Tan told a reader on Goodreads in 2021 that she had no sequel plans, and for five years the book stood alone. That changed — Beloved in the Underworld is announced as the second Queen Hades book for 14 October 2027, described as the conclusion of a duology and, per the author’s page, readable on its own. There is no cliffhanger to worry about. There is now a longer story than you may have signed up for.

Frequently Asked Questions

Does Captive in the Underworld have a happy ending?

Yes, in the technical romance sense. The author’s own content-warning page labels it an HEA with the main characters ending up together, and blog reviewers describe the relationship reaching something closer to equality by the close. Whether that reads as happy, given how it starts, is the thing readers argue about most.

Is the abuse presented as romantic?

No. The book names it as abuse on the page, Persephone names it in dialogue, and the author’s warning list calls the central relationship abusive and the sexual assault graphic. Tan’s own note tells readers that if someone treats you like this, run. The romance is built on top of the abuse rather than in place of it.

What are the content warnings?

Extensive. Graphic rape of the protagonist by the other lead; non-consensual and dubiously consensual sex alongside consensual scenes; an abusive romantic relationship between the leads; kidnapping and enforced captivity; emotional and physical child abuse by a parent; flogging, death and dismemberment; torture; suicidal ideation; misogyny; animal harm including the killing of a drakon; bondage and spanking. StoryGraph carries an author-approved version of this list, and Tan publishes the full one on her own site.

How spicy is Captive in the Underworld?

A 5/5. romance.io places it in its top band and calls it “explicit and plentiful,” with bondage, spanking and BDSM among its most-applied tags. A significant share of that content is non-consensual, which is the distinction that matters more than the number.

Is it a standalone?

It was for five years, and it still reads as one — the arc closes and there is no cliffhanger. A sequel, Beloved in the Underworld, is announced as book two of a Queen Hades duology for 14 October 2027, and the author’s page says it can be read on its own.

Is there an audiobook?

Yes — narrated by Eva Caine for Shattered Scepter Press, running 9 hours 26 minutes, released in June 2023. Listeners say the reading suits the tone, and it is available on Libro.fm as well as the usual retailers.

If You Loved Captive in the Underworld, Read These Next

Readers comparing this to other sapphic dark romance land most often on Tryst Six Venom, which runs the same cruelty-to-devotion engine at the same 5/5 heat but in a contemporary setting and without the consent content. For the mythic register and the charged obsession at a much lower intensity, Her Spell That Binds Me gives you the same explicit heat with an unambiguously chosen relationship. And the comparison the reviews themselves keep making is The Dark Wife by Sarah Diemer — the same myth, sapphic, and the gentle version; we have not reviewed it yet, so browse our dark romance archive in the meantime. For more in this register, see our 25 best spicy sapphic romantasy books guide, the wider sapphic romantasy reading hub, or the full Book Reviews collection.

The Bottom Line

Captive in the Underworld sets out to retell the abduction myth as an abduction and it does not flinch once. The prose is genuinely beautiful, Hades is one of the best-drawn villains-as-love-interests in sapphic fiction, and the refusal to soften the coercion is an act of nerve that most dark romance never attempts. It is also unevenly paced, saggy through its middle, and built around a protagonist who spends too long being done to. Whether that trade is worth it depends entirely on one question, and you already know your answer to it: do you want a romance that starts with rape and says so. If yes, this is the best-written option in the subgenre. If no, no amount of craft will fix it. Check Captive in the Underworld on Amazon →

The Eikna Overall Ranking

On the Eikna scale, Captive in the Underworld ranks as a literary-grade extreme dark sapphic myth retelling — exceptionally written and unusually honest about its own cruelty, held back by pacing and a passive lead, and best approached for the prose and the moral discomfort rather than for anything resembling comfort.

The Evidence Scorecard

Overall ★★★★☆ 3.7/5

  • ✓ 3.52 average across 3,346 Goodreads ratings
  • ✓ Prose praised across every rating band
  • ✓ Amazon runs 4.3 against StoryGraph’s 3.36
  • ✓ 19% of Goodreads ratings sit at one or two stars

Romance ★★★☆☆ 3.4/5

  • ✓ Captor-to-partner arc genuinely completes
  • ✓ Hades softens late and gradually, not conveniently
  • ✓ Reviewers reach a relationship of equals by the close
  • ✓ Mutual desire withheld far past many readers’ limit

Characters ★★★★☆ 3.9/5

  • ✓ Hades named first by almost every fan
  • ✓ Demeter the most-cited horror in the reviews
  • ✓ 70% on StoryGraph say flaws are a main focus
  • ✓ Only 28% call the cast loveable

Writing ★★★★☆ 4.3/5

  • ✓ Lush and elegant is the recurring verdict
  • ✓ Reads with the cadence of actual myth
  • ✓ Praised by five-star and one-star reviewers alike
  • ✓ Hundred-year time jumps break the throughline

Emotional Impact ★★★★☆ 4.2/5

  • ✓ 97% of StoryGraph readers tag it dark
  • ✓ Demeter’s abuse lands hardest of anything
  • ✓ Victim POV sustained for the whole book
  • ✓ Middle sags and drains accumulated tension

Heat Level ★★★★★ 5/5

  • ✓ romance.io top band, explicit and plentiful
  • ✓ Bondage, spanking and BDSM among top tags
  • ✓ Long, graphic and central to the plot
  • ✓ Much of it non-consensual by design

Ending ★★★★☆ 3.5/5

  • ✓ Author-confirmed HEA, leads together
  • ✓ Arc resolves with no cliffhanger
  • ✓ Read as a standalone for five years
  • ✓ Several readers wanted more reconciliation

Re-read Value ★★★★☆ 3.6/5

  • ✓ Prose rewards a second pass
  • ✓ Caine’s 9h26m audiobook is a real alternative
  • ✓ 2027 sequel will send readers back
  • ✓ Content makes a casual reread unlikely

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The Wicked and the Willing Review | Lianyu Tan | Is It Worth Reading?

Verdict: An award-winning, unflinching sapphic gothic-horror vampire novel set in 1927 colonial Singapore — genuinely dark, beautifully written, and built around an abusive vampire romance, with two mutually exclusive endings. This is dark fiction with a sapphic relationship, not a comfort romance.

Best for: Readers who want their darkness real — gothic horror, toxic vampire devotion, historical atmosphere, and morally harrowing choices rather than a safe HEA. Ideal if you loved the uncomfortable end of A Dowry of Blood and want to go further.

Heat: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ (high — explicit and charged, but entangled with power, danger, and abuse rather than romance-safe)

Rating: ★★★☆ (3.63 average on Goodreads across roughly 1,100 ratings; winner of the 2023 Lambda Literary Award and Golden Crown Literary Award)

Tropes: vampire mistress × maidservant · gothic horror · historical (1927 Singapore) · toxic/abusive devotion · love triangle · dark academia of desire · two mutually exclusive endings

If you’ve been working through our dark sapphic romance recommendations, The Wicked and the Willing is where the shelf stops being cozy. Lianyu Tan’s award-winning gothic horror doesn’t soften its monster or its power imbalance — it puts a destitute maidservant between a vampire mistress and the servant trying to save her, and asks how much love can justify. Here’s an honest look at what makes it extraordinary and who should approach with caution.

What Is The Wicked and the Willing About?

Singapore, 1927. Verity Edevane is a vampire who craves more than blood — she wants the heady mix of desire and fealty from a young woman’s veins, a rarity in the foreign colony she rules over. Gean Choo is a destitute maidservant who needs money, and Mrs. Edevane makes her an offer she can’t refuse. But Gean Choo doesn’t yet understand what her alluring new mistress is, or what earning her love will cost.

Caught between them is Po Lam, who has served Edevane faithfully for decades and can no longer excuse a life of bondage and murder. She needs absolution, a clean conscience, and above all to save Gean Choo from a love that will destroy them all. It’s a standalone gothic-horror vampire novel of about 430 pages, first published in 2022, and notably it contains two mutually exclusive endings. The author is explicit that it depicts an abusive relationship and is for adult readers only.

What Makes This Gothic Vampire Horror Work

When The Wicked and the Willing lands, it lands as literary horror — and the awards back that up. Here’s what readers and juries consistently praise:

  • Award-winning craft. It won both the 2023 Lambda Literary Award (LGBTQ+ Speculative Fiction) and the Golden Crown Literary Award (Paranormal/Occult/Horror) — rare, serious recognition for a sapphic vampire novel.
  • A vampire who stays a monster. Verity Edevane is never sanded down into a safe love interest; the horror of loving her is the point, and Tan refuses to flinch from it.
  • Rich historical atmosphere. 1927 colonial Singapore is rendered with texture and specificity, giving the gothic dread a vivid, uncommon setting.
  • A genuine moral triangle. Gean Choo, Verity, and Po Lam form a triangle about power, complicity, and rescue — not a simple romance, which gives the story real weight.
  • Two endings, real stakes. The dual mutually-exclusive endings turn the central question — whom do you choose, and what does it cost — into something the book actually makes you sit with.

Book Synopsis

In 1927 Singapore, the wealthy Mrs. Verity Edevane is not what she appears. A vampire accustomed to taking what she wants, she hungers for a very particular kind of sustenance: the blood of a young woman who will give it willingly, wrapped in desire and devotion. When she offers a way out of poverty to the maidservant Gean Choo, the girl accepts without knowing the true nature of the bargain — or the woman she is beginning to love.

Watching it unfold is Po Lam, Edevane’s long-serving retainer, who has spent decades complicit in her mistress’s cruelty and can no longer bear it. As Gean Choo is drawn deeper into a beautiful, ruinous bond, Po Lam resolves to break free and pull the girl out with her — if she can. The Wicked and the Willing is a standalone sapphic gothic horror with two mutually exclusive endings, and it does not promise anyone a soft landing.

My Review

The Wicked and the Willing by Lianyu Tan book coverThe Wicked and the Willing is the book I point people to when they say they want dark sapphic romance and I suspect they actually mean dark sapphic fiction. This is horror first, and it earns its awards: the prose is controlled and elegant, the 1927 Singapore setting is immersive, and Verity Edevane is one of the most genuinely frightening love interests in the sub-genre precisely because Tan never redeems her. The dread is real, the power imbalance is the story, and the book knows exactly how uncomfortable it wants you to be.

That is also the fair warning. The author states plainly that this depicts an abusive romantic relationship, and she means it — the central bond is possessive, coercive, and destructive by design. This isn’t a toxic dynamic played for swoon; it’s interrogated as horror. The two mutually exclusive endings drive that home, forcing the reader to weigh escape against surrender rather than handing over a tidy resolution. Readers expecting a romance with an HEA will not find one waiting for them here.

My honest take: the 3.63 Goodreads average undersells the craft and oversells nothing about the difficulty. Reviewers who go in prepared for literary horror tend to find it remarkable; those who wandered in expecting a spicy vampire romance often bounce off the bleakness and the deliberate discomfort. Go in knowing what it is — award-winning gothic horror about a love that destroys — and check the content notes carefully. On those terms, it’s one of the most accomplished dark sapphic books you can read.

Tropes & Themes at a Glance

ElementIn The Wicked and the Willing
CategorySapphic gothic horror / dark vampire fiction
Central relationshipGean Choo × Verity Edevane — maidservant and vampire mistress, shadowed by Po Lam
Core tropesVampire mistress, gothic horror, historical setting, toxic/abusive devotion, love triangle, complicity & rescue
SettingColonial Singapore, 1927 — a wealthy household and the world around it
Heat level🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ High — explicit but entangled with power and danger
SeriesStandalone (~430 pages) with two mutually exclusive endings
Content notesAbusive romantic relationship, coercion, violence, blood/horror, disturbing scenes — adult readers only (see the author’s site for the full list)

How Spicy Is The Wicked and the Willing?

Fairly high, but not in a way you should mistake for a romance. On our five-chili scale it’s around 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ — the intimacy is explicit and intense, but it’s inseparable from the horror. The eroticism is bound up with feeding, control, and the abusive power dynamic, so the heat reads as seductive and alarming, exactly as intended. This is sensuality as a trap, not as a reward.

The important caveat: because this is gothic horror about an abusive relationship, the explicit content carries a very different emotional charge than in a conventional spicy romance. If you’re reading for uncomplicated heat, this isn’t that book; if you want eroticism that’s genuinely unsettling and thematically loaded, it delivers.

Who Should Read This Book?

More than almost any other title on our list, whether this book is for you depends on knowing what you’re walking into.

You’ll likely love it if: you want genuinely dark sapphic fiction, you’re drawn to gothic horror and morally uncomfortable stories, you appreciate award-winning literary craft, and you’re fascinated by a vampire who is never redeemed and a love that functions as a trap.

You may want to skip it if: you need an HEA, you’re looking for a romance-first read, or the depiction of an abusive relationship, coercion, and horror sits outside what you want from a book right now. The author is unusually upfront that this is for adult readers and contains disturbing content — take that seriously, and read the full content notes before starting.

In short: this is a case where “dark romance” is almost the wrong label. It’s dark fiction with a sapphic relationship at its core, and it’s superb at being exactly that — for the right, prepared reader.

Frequently Asked Questions

Is The Wicked and the Willing a standalone?

Yes. It’s a complete standalone novel of around 430 pages, with no series commitment — though unusually, it offers two mutually exclusive endings rather than one.

Is it a true sapphic romance?

It’s a sapphic story, but it’s better described as gothic horror than romance. The central relationships are between women (Gean Choo, Verity, and Po Lam), but the author explicitly frames the main bond as abusive, so it doesn’t follow romance conventions or promise a happy ending.

How steamy is it, really?

Fairly explicit — around four chilies — but the intimacy is fused with horror, feeding, and a coercive power dynamic. It’s intense and unsettling by design rather than romance-safe, so treat the heat as part of the darkness, not a break from it.

Does it have a happy ending?

Not in the conventional sense. It contains two mutually exclusive endings, and given the abusive central relationship, neither is a tidy HEA. If a guaranteed happy ending is essential for you, this isn’t the book — and that’s by design.

Is it really that dark, or is that just marketing?

It’s genuinely that dark. The author’s own content warning names an abusive relationship and disturbing scenes, and the book commits to that framing throughout. It’s literary horror first — acclaimed for it — so approach it as such and check the content notes before reading.

If You Loved The Wicked and the Willing, Read These Next

If Tan’s unflinching gothic horror worked for you, you’ll find more in the same register on our dark sapphic romance recommendations guide — including Lianyu Tan’s own Captive in the Underworld for a dark F/F Hades-and-Persephone retelling, plus S.T. Gibson’s vampire and gothic titles for toxic devotion at a range of intensities. It’s the best next stop for finding the exact flavor of darkness you’re after.

The Bottom Line

The Wicked and the Willing is an award-winning, uncompromising work of sapphic gothic horror — a beautifully written, deeply uncomfortable novel about a love that destroys, set in vivid 1927 Singapore and offering two mutually exclusive endings instead of a safe one. Its Lambda and Golden Crown wins reflect real literary craft; its abusive central relationship and bleak commitment to horror mean it isn’t for everyone, and it never pretends to be. If you want dark sapphic fiction at its most accomplished and are prepared for where it goes, it’s essential. Check The Wicked and the Willing on Amazon →

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The Eikna Overall Ranking

Our house scorecard, weighing the book across the dimensions that matter most to dark sapphic romance readers.

The Evidence Scorecard

Overall — ★★★½ 3.6/5

  • ✓ An award-winning sapphic gothic-horror vampire novel.
  • ✓ A 3.63 Goodreads average across roughly 1,100 ratings.
  • ✓ Winner of the 2023 Lambda and Golden Crown Literary Awards.
  • ✓ Dark fiction, not a comfort romance — rate accordingly.

Romance — ★★★ 3.4/5

  • ✓ The vampire-and-maidservant bond is magnetic and ruinous.
  • ✓ A genuine moral triangle raises the emotional stakes.
  • ✓ Framed as abusive by design, not a swoony love story.
  • ✓ Powerful, but deliberately not romance-satisfying.

Characters — ★★★★ 4.1/5

  • ✓ Verity Edevane is a genuinely frightening, unredeemed monster.
  • ✓ Po Lam’s guilt and longing for absolution are compelling.
  • ✓ Gean Choo’s vulnerability drives the horror.
  • ✓ A cast built for moral discomfort, not easy sympathy.

Writing — ★★★★½ 4.5/5

  • ✓ Controlled, elegant prose that earned its awards.
  • ✓ A vivid, immersive 1927 colonial Singapore setting.
  • ✓ Masterful sustained gothic dread.
  • ✓ Craft is the book’s clearest strength.

Emotional Impact — ★★★★ 4.0/5

  • ✓ Genuinely unsettling and hard to shake.
  • ✓ The two endings force the reader to sit with the choice.
  • ✓ The horror of the central love lands with real weight.
  • ✓ Bleak by design — impact over comfort.

Heat Level — ★★★★ 4.0/5

  • ✓ Explicit and intense throughout.
  • ✓ Eroticism fused with feeding, control, and danger.
  • ✓ Sensuality functions as a trap, not a reward.
  • ✓ Charged and unsettling rather than romance-safe.

Ending — ★★★★ 3.9/5

  • ✓ Two mutually exclusive endings — a bold structural choice.
  • ✓ Neither offers a tidy HEA, by design.
  • ✓ The dual finish makes the central question land.
  • ✓ Divisive but thematically earned.

Re-read Value — ★★★½ 3.7/5

  • ✓ The two endings invite a second read.
  • ✓ Dense atmosphere rewards revisiting.
  • ✓ A complete, self-contained story.
  • ✓ Heavy content means re-reads are a mood choice.

An Education in Malice Review — Is It Worth Reading?

Verdict: A gorgeously atmospheric sapphic gothic about obsession, poetry and appetite — shelved as dark academia romance, and read by a great many people as horror with no romantic payoff at all.

Best for: Readers who want mood, menace and a genuinely transgressive triad, and who do not need likeable characters or a happily-ever-after to feel satisfied.

Heat level: ★★★★☆ (4/5 — explicit open door)

Rating: ★★★☆☆ (3.3/5 — a 3.48 Goodreads average across 25,000 ratings, with Kirkus and readers landing on the same complaint)

Tropes: Dark academia, vampires, academic rivals, student and professor, obsession, polyamorous triad, dual POV, fem-dom, queer awakening, gothic horror.

An Education in Malice by S.T. Gibson is a sapphic gothic fantasy published by Redhook in February 2024 and set at Saint Perpetua’s College in Massachusetts in 1968, where Laura Sheridan — a churchgoing transplant from Mississippi with desires she has not admitted to — competes with Carmilla Karnstein for the attention of Evelyn De Lafontaine, a poetry professor who has been alive for roughly two hundred years.

It has a 3.48 average across 25,075 Goodreads ratings, a 3.6 across 11,666 StoryGraph reviews, and an Amazon listing that shelves it under Horror rather than Romance. That last detail is the most honest piece of metadata attached to this book, and it explains most of the arguments about it.

What Is An Education in Malice About?

This is a direct retelling of Sheridan Le Fanu’s 1872 novella Carmilla — not a loose riff. The character is literally named Carmilla Karnstein, keeping the surname from the original, and Kirkus describes the book as a retelling outright. Gibson moves it to a women’s college in 1968 New England and hands the predation to a professor.

The register is dark before it is anything else. StoryGraph readers mark it 93% dark, 69% mysterious and 45% tense, with 56% calling it character-driven and only 7% plot-driven — which tells you where the book puts its weight and where it does not. It runs on dual first-person POV between Laura and Carmilla, and the relationship it builds is a three-cornered one rather than a pair.

What Makes This Sapphic Gothic Work

  • The atmosphere: the near-universal point of agreement. Candlelight, poetry seminars, blood and want — even reviewers who disliked the book concede Gibson can build a room.
  • The triad is real: the Laura–Carmilla–De Lafontaine entanglement is a genuine three-person dynamic that resolves into something openly polyamorous and not remotely healthy, which is rarer on the page than its reputation suggests.
  • The heat is transgressive: romance.io rates it 4/5, explicit open door, and its trope list includes fem-dom, exhibitionism and BDSM. This is not decorative spice.
  • It stands alone: despite the “Vampire Companion #2” label, this shares no characters with A Dowry of Blood and draws on Carmilla rather than Dracula. You do not need to read anything first.
  • Organic reach: unusually for a book this visible, the BookTok activity comes from seven or eight independent creators rather than the author — and Amazon carries a genuine “Best of #BookTok” badge.

Book Synopsis

Laura Sheridan arrives at Saint Perpetua’s from Mississippi with a Bible, a scholarship and a carefully maintained idea of herself. She is good, she is devout, and she has been very careful not to examine what she actually wants.

Professor Evelyn De Lafontaine teaches poetry with an intensity that makes the seminar feel less like a class than an initiation, and she takes an interest in Laura that Laura does not know how to refuse. She has taken an interest in Carmilla Karnstein too — Laura’s rival for the professor’s attention, and the other point of a triangle none of them will name.

What Laura discovers, slowly, is that De Lafontaine’s appetite is literal, that Carmilla has been feeding it for longer than Laura has been alive, and that the version of herself she has been protecting was never the version she wanted. The question the book runs on is not whether Laura will be corrupted. It is what she will choose once she stops pretending corruption is being done to her.

My Review

Gibson writes atmosphere better than almost anyone working in this space, and that is the reason to pick this up. Saint Perpetua’s in 1968 — the poetry seminar, the candles, the specific hush of a women’s college in winter — is rendered with real control, and the erotic charge she builds between competition and desire is genuinely well done. StoryGraph readers mark this 93% dark, the highest figure I have recorded for any book on this site, and that is not an accident of tagging. The book commits.

An Education in Malice by S.T. Gibson book coverThe triad is the other genuine achievement. A great many books gesture at a three-person dynamic and then quietly resolve into a pair; this one does not. What Laura, Carmilla and De Lafontaine end up in is openly polyamorous, unmistakably unhealthy, and treated as a real configuration rather than a phase. Combined with a heat rating that includes fem-dom and exhibitionism on the trope list, this is a book willing to be genuinely transgressive rather than merely gothic-adjacent.

Where it struggles is people, and this is the rare case where professional and reader criticism land in exactly the same place. Kirkus wrote that all three leads are somewhat lacking in dimensionality, each an archetypal collection of traits, and that the plot builds to a stale conclusion. Four or five independent readers say the same thing in blunter terms — “all tell no show” is one formulation. StoryGraph’s likeability split is brutal: 45% find the characters loveable, 37% call them complicated, 16% say no. When Kirkus and the crowd agree, that is not a matter of taste.

The second complaint is boredom, which is a strange thing to say about a book this lurid, but six or more readers report it and several did not finish — abandonments at fifty, sixty-nine and seventy-two per cent turn up in the reviews. The mechanism is the 7% plot-driven figure: almost nothing happens for long stretches, and if the atmosphere stops working on you there is very little underneath it. A smaller group disputes whether this earns the word retelling at all, arguing it takes Le Fanu’s names without his nerve.

One expectation to reset, and it is the one that matters most: this is not a romance and it does not have a happily-ever-after. Amazon shelves it under Horror and Dark Fantasy rather than Romance, and Amazon is right. The ending is ambiguous — darkly hopeful at best — and organised around Laura’s autonomy rather than a couple. Readers arriving from the dark academia romance shelf expecting emotional payoff are the ones writing the angriest reviews, and they were mis-sold rather than wrong.

My honest note: A beautifully built mood with thin people inside it, and a book far more interested in appetite than in love. If you want gothic horror about obsession, this delivers completely; if you want a romance, this will feel like being lied to.

Element In An Education in Malice
Central relationship Laura Sheridan, Carmilla Karnstein & Professor Evelyn De Lafontaine — a genuine triad, not a pair
Core tropes Dark academia, vampires, academic rivals, student and professor, obsession, fem-dom, polyamory
Setting Saint Perpetua’s College, Massachusetts, 1968 — a retelling of Le Fanu’s 1872 Carmilla
Heat level 4/5 — explicit open door, with fem-dom, BDSM and exhibitionism on the trope list
Series Vampire Companion book 2, but a companion rather than a sequel — no shared characters with A Dowry of Blood, reads standalone
Content notes Graphic blood, sexual content and toxic relationship dynamics; murder, alcohol and death; death of a parent, abandonment and homophobia in the background

How Spicy Is An Education in Malice?

A 4/5. romance.io rates the steam level “explicit open door” — one band below its top rating — and the content is more transgressive than that number alone conveys: the trope list includes fem-dom, BDSM and exhibitionism, and multiple readers reference a group scene. StoryGraph places sexual content in the graphic tier alongside blood and toxic relationship dynamics.

The element worth flagging is tonal rather than mechanical. Two readers describe the eroticism as performative or inconsistent given how Laura is characterised early on, and the intimacy here is bound up with predation and power throughout — it is not separable from the horror. If you want this heat band without that, Pirates of Aletharia and Outdrawn both sit at a verified 4/5 in much warmer registers.

Who Should Read This Book?

You’ll likely love it if: you read for atmosphere above all, you want a triad written as a real configuration rather than a tease, you like your eroticism entangled with menace, and an ambiguous ending is a feature.

You may want to skip it if: you need characters with interiority, you want a plot that moves, you came for romance and expect a happily-ever-after, or you loved Carmilla enough to be protective of it.

In short: superb gothic mood-making with archetypes rather than people inside it, mis-shelved as a romance almost everywhere except Amazon.

What Readers Are Actually Saying (August 2026)

Two and a half years on, this book’s reception is unusually legible, and one detail about it is worth knowing before you read anyone’s praise. Amazon’s editorial reviews block looks impressive — Rachel Gillig, Hannah Whitten, Katee Robert, Publishers Weekly — but almost all of that praise is recycled from A Dowry of Blood rather than written about this book. Only three quotes there actually concern this title: Sydney J. Shields, People, and Kirkus. There is no Publishers Weekly review of An Education in Malice, no Library Journal and no Booklist, despite what that block implies at a glance. The BookTok picture is the opposite and genuinely to the book’s credit: seven or eight independent creators, no author seeding, and a real “Best of #BookTok” merchandising badge on the listing. Reddit, by contrast, is quiet — the book appears in recommendation lists across r/LesbianBookClub and r/sapphicbooks but there is no argument thread about it anywhere, which for a book this divisive is genuinely surprising.

Why readers love it (according to the discourse): The atmosphere, first and by a wide margin — gorgeous, moody, immersive are the recurring words, and it is the one thing critics concede. Then the eroticism, which readers describe as both explicit and genuinely dangerous rather than merely steamy. The dark academia texture — poetry, rivalry, a closed campus — is what people came for and largely got. The triad draws real admiration from readers who wanted a book willing to follow through. And the Carmilla framework earns credit from readers who know the source and enjoyed seeing it moved to 1968.

What readers argue about and complain about: Characterisation, above everything, and this one is unusual because Kirkus reached the same verdict independently — all three leads described as archetypal collections of traits rather than people, building to what the review calls a stale conclusion. Four or five readers say it more bluntly, and StoryGraph’s likeability numbers back them: only 45% find the cast loveable. Second: boredom. Six or more readers report the middle dragging, with did-not-finishes recorded at fifty, sixty-nine and seventy-two per cent — a consequence of the 7% plot-driven structure. Third: whether it is a real Carmilla retelling, disputed by at least two readers who found it less daring than the 1872 original. Beyond that, the narration divides listeners sharply, a couple of readers find the eroticism inconsistent with Laura’s early characterisation, and one recurring note is that the prose reads younger than its adult cast. The single biggest complaint underneath all of it is expectation: the book is sold as romance and does not deliver a romance.

The series question worth asking first: the “Vampire Companion #2” label is misleading in the reader’s favour. This shares no characters with A Dowry of Blood, retells Carmilla rather than Dracula, and reads completely standalone — you can start here. Worth knowing that A Dowry of Blood is by far Gibson’s most-read book, at 3.91 across nearly 111,000 ratings, and rates notably higher than this one. Readers arriving from that book expecting the same thing are a meaningful share of the disappointed reviews.

Frequently Asked Questions

Do I need to read A Dowry of Blood first?

No. Despite being labelled Vampire Companion book two, it shares no characters with A Dowry of Blood and retells Carmilla rather than Dracula. It reads completely standalone and multiple reviewers confirm the order does not matter.

How spicy is An Education in Malice?

A 4/5. romance.io rates it “explicit open door,” and its trope list includes fem-dom, BDSM and exhibitionism. StoryGraph places sexual content in the graphic tier. The intimacy is bound up with predation and power rather than separable from it.

Does An Education in Malice have a happy ending?

Not in the romance sense. The ending is ambiguous — darkly hopeful at best — and organised around Laura’s autonomy rather than a couple. Amazon shelves the book under Horror and Dark Fantasy rather than Romance, which is the more accurate label.

Is An Education in Malice a Carmilla retelling?

Yes, directly. The character retains the surname Karnstein from Sheridan Le Fanu’s 1872 novella and Kirkus describes it as a retelling outright, moved to a Massachusetts women’s college in 1968. Some readers dispute that it earns the label, arguing it is less daring than the original.

Is there an audiobook of An Education in Malice?

Yes — narrated by Stephanie Cannon, running about eight hours and fifteen minutes, released by Redhook in February 2024. Listener reaction to the narration divides sharply, with some abandoning the book over it.

Prefer audio? Listen to An Education in Malice on Libro.fm — the audiobook shop that supports independent bookstores.

If You Loved An Education in Malice, Read These Next

If it was the academic rivalry and the folkloric dread, A Dark and Drowning Tide runs the same engine with a murder mystery and a closed-door heat level. If it was the dark magic and the obsession at a much higher temperature, Her Spell That Binds Me puts a rivalry inside a magical college at 5/5 spice. And for literary gothic intertextuality done with a different classic, A Star-Cursed Heart rebuilds The Scarlet Letter as a four-hundred-year curse.

For more in this register, browse our guide to sapphic romantasy books or the full Book Reviews collection.

The Bottom Line

An Education in Malice is the best-atmosphered book on this site’s gothic shelf and one of the most mis-sold. Gibson builds a 1968 women’s college you can smell, writes an erotic charge that is genuinely dangerous rather than decorative, and follows a three-person dynamic all the way through instead of flinching. It is also thin on character in a way Kirkus and its readers agree on, structurally static enough that a real share of readers stopped partway, and not a romance in any sense that a romance reader would recognise. Go in for gothic horror about appetite and you will get something very good. Go in for a love story and you will not. Check An Education in Malice on Amazon →

The Eikna Overall Ranking

On the Eikna scale, An Education in Malice ranks as a superbly atmospheric sapphic gothic — transgressive, moody and genuinely committed to its triad, held back by archetypal characters and an almost absent plot, and best approached as horror about obsession rather than as the romance it is shelved beside.

The Evidence Scorecard

Overall ★★★☆☆ 3.3/5

  • ✓ 3.48 average across 25,075 Goodreads ratings
  • ✓ Genuine Best of BookTok badge on Amazon
  • ✓ Organic reach across seven-plus creators
  • ✓ Kirkus and readers agree on thin characters

Romance ★★★☆☆ 3.2/5

  • ✓ Triad written as a real configuration
  • ✓ Erotic charge genuinely dangerous
  • ✓ Rivalry-to-desire arc convincing
  • ✓ Not a romance, and no HEA delivered

Characters ★★★☆☆ 2.9/5

  • ✓ Laura’s repression-to-appetite arc lands
  • ✓ 56% of readers call it character-driven
  • ✓ De Lafontaine is a memorable predator
  • ✓ Only 45% find the cast loveable

Writing ★★★★☆ 3.6/5

  • ✓ Atmosphere is the near-universal praise
  • ✓ 1968 campus rendered with real control
  • ✓ 93% of readers mark it dark
  • ✓ Criticised as all tell, no show

Emotional Impact ★★★★☆ 3.5/5

  • ✓ Obsession and appetite land hard
  • ✓ 41% of readers mark it emotional
  • ✓ Power dynamics carry real menace
  • ✓ Thin characters blunt the payoff

Heat Level ★★★★☆ 4/5

  • ✓ romance.io rates it explicit open door
  • ✓ Fem-dom, BDSM and exhibitionism on the list
  • ✓ StoryGraph files sexual content as graphic
  • ✓ Inseparable from the predation

Ending ★★★☆☆ 2.8/5

  • ✓ Ambiguous but darkly hopeful
  • ✓ Centred on Laura’s autonomy
  • ✓ Triad resolves without flinching
  • ✓ Kirkus calls the conclusion stale

Re-read Value ★★★☆☆ 3.2/5

  • ✓ Atmosphere rewards a second visit
  • ✓ Eight-hour audiobook is a short revisit
  • ✓ Carmilla parallels repay knowing the source
  • ✓ Six-plus readers report the middle dragging

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Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil by V.E. Schwab: Review

Verdict: A lush, dark, centuries-spanning sapphic vampire epic — gorgeously written and deeply queer, though its slow-burn, literary pacing won’t suit readers chasing high heat.

Best for: Fans of atmospheric, character-driven fantasy who want three complicated women, gothic hunger, and prose to sink into.

Heat: 🌶️🌶️ Low–Medium Spice (sensual and suggestive rather than explicit)

Rating: 3.9 / 5 — a beautiful, divisive standout; adored by many, “overhyped” to some.

Tropes: Sapphic vampires, dark academia energy, multi-timeline, morally gray women, slow burn.

Some sapphic fantasy comes at you with claws and heat; others sink in slowly, like blood into soil. Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil by V.E. Schwab is firmly the second kind — a dark, atmospheric vampire saga that follows three queer women across centuries, tracing what hunger does to love and what love does to monsters. It won the 2025 Goodreads Choice Award for Readers’ Favorite Fantasy, and it has become one of the most talked-about sapphic releases of the year.

A quick note for our spicy sapphic fantasy books readers: this one earns its place on the strength of its queerness and craft rather than its spice level. It’s a slower, more literary read than most titles here — closer in mood to our review of The Book of Blood and Roses than to a high-heat romantasy. If you come for the atmosphere and the yearning, it delivers in spades.

What Is Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil About?

Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil weaves together three women across different eras, each transformed by an immortal hunger that reshapes who they are and who they’re allowed to love. Schwab braids their timelines into a single story about desire, control, and the cost of never dying — a gothic meditation on how monstrousness and womanhood tangle together. It’s a standalone, dark fantasy told in Schwab’s signature lyrical, slow-building style.

What Makes This Sapphic Fantasy Work

Three women, three eras, one hunger. The multi-timeline structure lets Schwab explore queer desire across very different worlds, and the way the threads converge is genuinely rewarding.

The prose is the main event. Schwab’s writing is lush and image-drenched — “drowning in shadowy metaphors,” as one reviewer put it — and readers who love atmosphere will devour it.

Morally gray women, front and center. These aren’t tidy heroines. The book leans into toxic, hungry, complicated relationships between women, which is exactly the point.

It’s unapologetically sapphic. The queerness isn’t a subplot or a garnish — it’s the beating (or un-beating) heart of the whole novel.

Book Synopsis

Across the centuries, three women are bound by the same dark gift and the same insatiable hunger. Each is pulled from the life she knew into an existence of endless nights, learning that immortality is as much a cage as it is a freedom.

As their stories unfold in parallel — separated by decades and geography yet echoing one another — Schwab examines what these women are willing to do, and to become, for love, survival, and control over their own fate. Desire and violence sit uncomfortably close together throughout.

Their timelines gradually draw toward a single point, revealing how their fates are entwined. It’s a standalone gothic fantasy — dark, atmospheric, and built on the slow accumulation of dread and longing rather than fast plot twists.

My Review

Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil by V.E. Schwab book cover I understand why this book landed the way it did. When Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil is working, it’s hypnotic — Schwab’s prose wraps around you, the three women feel distinct and dangerous, and the sapphic longing is drawn with real ache. As a piece of atmospheric, character-driven fantasy about hungry, complicated women, it’s the kind of book you sink into rather than race through.

It’s also, unmistakably, a Schwab slow burn. The pacing takes its time — more than one reviewer noted it doesn’t fully ignite until the last stretch — and the pleasure here is mood and language, not plot velocity. If you want a propulsive, twist-driven romantasy, this isn’t that, and going in expecting one is the fastest way to be disappointed.

I’ll be honest about the divide, too: for every reader calling it a five-star favorite, there’s another who found it overhyped or the central relationships too toxic to root for. Both reactions are fair — this is a deliberately prickly, morally gray book. And on spice specifically, temper expectations: the sapphic scenes are sensual and suggestive rather than explicit, so it’s a quieter heat than most titles on this list. Taken as a dark, literary sapphic vampire story, though, it’s a genuine standout.

Tropes & Themes at a Glance

Element Details
Central relationship Queer women across timelines, F/F
Core tropes Sapphic vampires, multi-timeline, morally gray, slow burn
Setting Multiple eras; gothic, historical & modern
Heat level 🌶️🌶️ Low–Medium — sensual, not explicit
Series Standalone
Content notes Violence, blood/gore, toxic dynamics, mature themes

How Spicy Is Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil?

Heat rating: 🌶️🌶️ Low–Medium Spice. This is the one place to set expectations clearly. Despite the sensual, blood-soaked premise, the sapphic scenes here are more suggestive and atmospheric than explicit — the intimacy is present but rarely graphic. Some spice trackers rate it around a mild open-door 3/5, but most readers experience it as lower heat than that suggests. Come for the yearning and the gothic mood, not for wall-to-wall explicit content.

Who Should Read This Book?

You’ll likely love it if: you adore atmospheric, literary fantasy, you’re drawn to morally gray sapphic characters, you loved Schwab’s The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, and you want queerness at the core rather than the margins.

You may want to skip it if: you want fast pacing and high heat, you dislike slow burns or multi-timeline structures, or you need likeable, easy-to-root-for leads rather than complicated, toxic ones.

Frequently Asked Questions

Is Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil a standalone?

Yes — it’s a self-contained standalone fantasy, with all three timelines resolving within the one book.

Is it a true sapphic story?

Absolutely. It centers queer women throughout, and the sapphic relationships are the emotional core of the novel rather than a side thread.

How steamy is it, really?

On the milder side. The intimacy is sensual and suggestive rather than explicit — expect atmosphere and longing over graphic on-page spice.

Is it a romance or a fantasy?

It’s a dark, character-driven fantasy with strong queer romantic threads, not a traditional genre romance — so there’s no guaranteed tidy HEA in the romance-genre sense.

Why do some readers call it overhyped?

Its slow, literary pacing and deliberately toxic, morally gray relationships divide readers. Fans find it hypnotic; others wanted faster momentum or more likeable characters.

If You Loved Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil, Read These Next

Craving more dark, atmospheric sapphic fantasy? Explore our full spicy sapphic fantasy books list, and don’t miss our reviews of The Book of Blood and Roses and The Weight of Her Gaze for more moody, morally gray queer romance.

The Bottom Line

Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil is a gorgeous, divisive, deeply sapphic vampire epic — a slow-burning gothic mood piece rather than a spicy page-turner. If you read for atmosphere, aching longing, and complicated women, it’s an easy recommendation; if you read for heat and speed, go in with eyes open. Check the latest price on Amazon →

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The Curse of the Goddess by C.C. Gonzalez Review

Verdict: A dark, angsty, high-heat sapphic romantasy of prophecy and forbidden desire — obsessive, dragon-laced, and not for the faint of heart.

Best for: Readers who love age-gap dark romance, morally messy dynamics, dragons, and a spicy fantasy that leans into its obsession.

Heat: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ High Spice (Explicit, Open Door)

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

Tropes: Age gap, dark romance, prophecy/curse, queen & heiress, obsession, dragons

If you like your sapphic fantasy dark, angsty, and unafraid of a toxic edge, The Curse of the Goddess should be high on your radar. C.C. González’s spicy romantasy — the first in The Queen and the Heiress series — pairs a goddess’s prophecy with an obsessive, age-gap romance and a whole lot of heat, earning its spot on our list of spicy sapphic fantasy books.

If the moody, morally-charged darkness of Her Spell That Binds Me is your vibe, this one dials the intensity even higher.

What Is The Curse of the Goddess About?

On her twenty-fifth birthday, a princess’s fate collides with an ancient prophecy tied to a goddess’s curse — and with a powerful queen who is decades her senior. What unfolds is a dark, obsessive sapphic romance set in a fantasy world of dragons, divine bargains, and dangerous power. The queen-and-heiress dynamic drives an intense, angsty relationship laced with forbidden desire, betrayal, and the pull of a bond neither woman can escape. It’s a spicy romantasy that leans hard into its darker impulses, and it’s the opening book of a larger saga.

What Makes This Romantasy Work

It commits to the dark. González doesn’t soften the obsession or the toxicity — she leans in, which is exactly what dark-romance readers want.

A charged age-gap dynamic. The roughly twenty-year gap between the queen and the heiress fuels a power imbalance that crackles on the page.

Dragons and divine stakes. The prophecy-and-goddess framework gives the romance an epic, mythic backdrop rather than a purely intimate one.

Latina and queer voice. Readers celebrate González’s perspective and representation, which lends the world real texture and heart.

Book Synopsis

A prophecy has shadowed the kingdom for generations, and on her twenty-fifth birthday a princess discovers just how deeply the goddess’s curse is woven into her own fate. Thrust into the orbit of a formidable queen — older, powerful, and dangerous — she finds herself bound to the one woman she should keep her distance from.

What grows between them is anything but simple. Their connection is intense, obsessive, and freighted with a stark difference in age and power, and every step deeper into it carries the risk of betrayal. Against a backdrop of dragons, court intrigue, and divine machinations, the two are pulled together by forces older than either of them.

As the curse tightens and loyalties fracture, the heiress must reckon with what she truly wants and what she’s willing to sacrifice for it. As the first book in The Queen and the Heiress series, it delivers a scorching, angsty arc while setting the stage for the darker reckonings to come in The Stolen Kingdom.

My Review

The Curse of the Goddess by C.C. Gonzalez book cover Let me be upfront: The Curse of the Goddess knows exactly what it is, and it does not apologize for it. This is dark, obsessive, angsty romantasy with a substantial age gap and a power dynamic that some readers will find intoxicating and others will find a lot. I fall in the intoxicated camp — González writes desire with real heat and commits fully to the messiness, which is refreshing in a genre that sometimes pulls its punches.

The worldbuilding gives the romance somewhere epic to live: dragons, a goddess’s curse, and a prophecy that keeps the stakes high even when the two leads are locked in their own gravity. And the spice absolutely delivers — it’s explicit, frequent, and charged with the tension of a relationship that probably shouldn’t exist. If you want dark-romance intensity in a sapphic fantasy wrapper, this scratches that itch.

Fair warnings, because they matter here: the dynamic is deliberately toxic and obsessive, the age gap is significant (around twenty years), and there’s angst and betrayal throughout — this is not a soft, cozy read, so check content warnings if that’s not your thing. It’s also the first book of a series, so don’t expect everything to resolve. Taken on its own terms, though, it’s a bold, scorching, unapologetic read. A strong 4 stars.

Tropes & Themes at a Glance

Element Details
Central relationship A queen & a younger heiress — F/F
Core tropes Age gap, dark/obsessive romance, prophecy & curse, forbidden desire, betrayal
Setting A dragon-laced fantasy world ruled by a goddess’s prophecy
Heat level 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ High — explicit, open door
Series The Queen and the Heiress #1 (followed by The Stolen Kingdom)
Content notes Toxic/obsessive dynamic, large age gap, angst, betrayal (check CWs)

How Spicy Is The Curse of the Goddess?

Heat rating: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ High Spice. This one runs hot. Marketed as a spicy sapphic romantasy and consistently described by readers as heavy on the heat, it delivers explicit, open-door scenes throughout. The obsessive, forbidden nature of the central relationship gives the spice an extra charge — it’s intense as much for the emotional intensity as the physical detail. If you want dark-romance-level steam in a fantasy setting, this is squarely in your lane.

Who Should Read This Book?

You’ll likely love it if: you’re into dark romance, age-gap dynamics, obsessive/angsty relationships, dragons and prophecy, and a high-heat sapphic fantasy that isn’t afraid to get messy.

You may want to skip it if: toxic or obsessive dynamics aren’t for you, large age gaps are a dealbreaker, you prefer lower-angst or lower-heat romance, or you want a fully standalone story.

Frequently Asked Questions

Can The Curse of the Goddess be read as a standalone?

It’s the first book of The Queen and the Heiress series, so while it has its own arc, it sets up a larger story that continues in The Stolen Kingdom.

Is it a true sapphic romance?

Yes. It’s marketed and written as a spicy sapphic romantasy, with an F/F queen-and-heiress relationship at its core.

How steamy is it really?

Very. It’s high heat — explicit and open-door — with the added intensity of a dark, forbidden, obsessive dynamic.

Is there an age gap?

Yes, a significant one — roughly twenty years between the queen and the heiress. It’s central to the power dynamic, so know that going in.

Is it dark? Are there content warnings?

Yes. It leans into toxic, obsessive, and angsty territory with betrayal and heavy themes, so check content warnings if you’re sensitive to darker romance.

If You Loved The Curse of the Goddess, Read These Next

Want more dark, spicy sapphic fantasy? The full spicy sapphic fantasy book list has plenty to sink into. For another moody, high-heat witchy romance, try Her Spell That Binds Me; for high-stakes competition romantasy, This Splintered Sea delivers; and for scorching enemies-to-lovers heat, Consort of Fire is a must.

The Bottom Line

The Curse of the Goddess is an unapologetically dark, angsty, high-heat sapphic romantasy — dragons and divine prophecy wrapped around an obsessive age-gap romance that pulls no punches. It won’t be for everyone, but readers who love their fantasy romance intense and steamy will devour it. A bold 4 stars. Check the latest price on Amazon →

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Bounty of the Sword Cult Review | Olina Wayland | Is It Worth Reading?

Verdict: A short, spicy sapphic vampire-x-mage novella that wraps up Via and Aleti’s bloody love story — quick, atmospheric, and best for fans of the first book.

Best for: Readers who enjoyed Harvest of the Dragon Saints and want a steamy, self-contained conclusion to this couple’s arc.

Heat: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ High Spice (explicit, per the author’s own billing)

Rating: Early ratings are strong (5.0 on Amazon & Goodreads), though from only a handful of readers so far

Tropes: Vampire/mage, established couple, court intrigue, bound magic, dark romance, novella

Bounty of the Sword Cult by Olina Wayland is a brand-new indie release (March 2026) billed as “a vampire x mage spicy sapphic romantasy.” It’s the second entry in the Swords and Saints series — a novella sequel to Harvest of the Dragon Saints — and it earns a spot on our list of spicy sapphic fantasy books for its blend of dark fantasy, court intrigue, and explicit heat.

Because it’s such a recent, small-press title, there aren’t many reviews out there yet — so this write-up is based on the book’s own description, its series context, and the early reader ratings available. Here’s what to expect.

What Is Bounty of the Sword Cult About?

Told from Aleti’s point of view, the novella picks up her story as an old affair grows more dangerous. Igreph is maneuvering to keep Aleti close to him forever, forcing her toward a choice as fateful as the one she made decades ago when she bound herself. And nearly everyone around her — including her own sentient, loving sword — keeps trying to make that choice for her.

At her side is Via, first sister of the rapier family, now dangerously close to the crown that was stolen from the Sword Cult. Via will stand proudly with Aleti no matter the cost — even if it means burning the city of Collina to the ground to stay there.

What Makes This Sapphic Romantasy Work

A self-contained, satisfying conclusion. The author frames this as a wrap-up to Via and Aleti’s “bloody love,” so readers of the first book get a real payoff rather than a cliffhanger.

Dark fantasy atmosphere. Vampires, bound magic, a stolen crown, and a secretive Sword Cult give the story a moody, high-stakes backdrop.

An intriguing pairing. A mage bound by her own past choices and a fiercely loyal swordswoman make for a couple with built-in tension and devotion.

Explicit, promised heat. It’s marketed as “spicy,” so readers seeking on-page steam alongside their fantasy should be well served.

Book Synopsis

Aleti is a mage who long ago bound herself through a fateful magical bargain, and she has spent decades living with the consequences. Now an affair she hoped would stay simple has grown perilous: Igreph is making moves to bind her to him permanently, pushing her toward another life-altering decision — one that others keep trying to make on her behalf, including her own sentient sword.

Via, the first sister of the rapier family, has risen close to the crown that was stolen from the Sword Cult. Rather than use that power for herself, she chooses to stand beside Aleti, fierce and unwavering, promising to burn down the city of Collina itself before she’ll let anyone tear them apart.

As a novella sequel to Harvest of the Dragon Saints — this time from Aleti’s perspective — Bounty of the Sword Cult follows the couple through court intrigue, danger, and desire toward a conclusion the author promises will be both spicy and satisfying for Via and Aleti’s love.

My Review

Bounty of the Sword Cult by Olina Wayland book coverI want to be upfront: Bounty of the Sword Cult is a very new, small-press novella, and at the time of writing only a handful of readers have rated it. So rather than pretend there’s a broad consensus, I’ll tell you what it is — and who I think will get the most out of it.

What appeals to me here is the setup. A mage tangled in a decades-old binding, a devoted swordswoman willing to raze a city for her, vampires and a stolen crown — that’s a rich, dark-fantasy foundation, and telling this installment from Aleti’s POV is a smart way to deepen a couple readers already care about. As a novella, it promises exactly what it sets out to deliver: a compact, spicy, self-contained conclusion rather than a sprawling epic.

The honest caveat is the format and context. This is a sequel, so you’ll get far more out of it having read Harvest of the Dragon Saints first — the emotional weight of Aleti’s choices depends on that history. And because it’s a novella, don’t expect deep worldbuilding or a slow burn; it’s a focused, heat-forward finale. If you loved book one and want more of Via and Aleti with plenty of spice, this looks like a rewarding, quick read. Newcomers should start with the first book.

Tropes & Themes at a Glance

Category Details
Central relationship Aleti (mage) & Via (swordswoman) (F/F)
Core tropes Vampire/mage, established couple, bound magic, court intrigue, dark romance
Setting A dark-fantasy realm of the Sword Cult (the city of Collina)
Heat level 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ High Spice — explicit (author-billed)
Series Swords and Saints #2 (novella sequel to Harvest of the Dragon Saints)
Content notes Blood/vampirism, violence, dark themes, explicit sex

How Spicy Is Bounty of the Sword Cult?

Heat rating: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ High Spice. The book is explicitly marketed as a “spicy sapphic romantasy,” and the author notes it “contains spice” alongside a satisfying conclusion to the couple’s “bloody love.” For a novella, expect the heat to be concentrated and central rather than spread thin — a compact, steam-forward finale. If explicit on-page intimacy in a dark-fantasy setting is what you’re after, this fits the bill.

Who Should Read This Book?

You’ll likely love it if: you read and enjoyed Harvest of the Dragon Saints, you want a short spicy sapphic vampire/mage read, and you like dark-fantasy court intrigue with a devoted, established couple.

You may want to skip it if: you haven’t read book one (start there first), you prefer full-length novels with deep worldbuilding, or you want a slow-burn rather than a heat-forward novella conclusion.

Frequently Asked Questions

Is Bounty of the Sword Cult a standalone?

Not really. It’s a novella sequel to Harvest of the Dragon Saints and the second book in the Swords and Saints series. It’s designed as a conclusion to Via and Aleti’s arc, so you’ll want to read the first book first.

Is it a true sapphic romance?

Yes — it centers on the F/F relationship between Aleti and Via, told this time from Aleti’s point of view.

How steamy is it, really?

It’s billed as spicy with explicit content. As a novella, the heat is likely to be concentrated and central to the story.

Do I need to read anything first?

Yes — read Harvest of the Dragon Saints (book one) first. The emotional stakes of Aleti’s choices build directly on that story.

How long is it, and where can I read it?

It’s a novella, so it’s a quick read, and it’s available on Kindle (including Kindle Unlimited). Its early ratings are very positive, though from only a small number of readers so far.

If You Loved Bounty of the Sword Cult, Read These Next

If this dark, spicy vampire-and-mage pairing worked for you, explore more titles from our spicy sapphic fantasy books guide — including our full review of Will It Hurt? by Lily X, another spicy sapphic witch-and-vampire romantasy.

The Bottom Line

Bounty of the Sword Cult is a compact, spicy sapphic novella that delivers a self-contained, heat-forward finale for Via and Aleti’s dark love story. It’s very new and lightly reviewed so far, and it works best as a sequel rather than a starting point — but if you enjoyed Harvest of the Dragon Saints and want more, it’s an easy, steamy pick. You can check Bounty of the Sword Cult on Amazon →

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