"Blood on Her Tongue": A Twisted Journey into Horror
When I first heard about Blood on Her Tongue by Lyndsey Deaton, my excitement was palpable—this was my most anticipated read of 2025! However, having just finished the ARC, I find myself riding a rollercoaster of emotions, leaning heavily into that delightful “WTF did I just read?” territory. Buckle up and put on those high-cut rubber boots, because this is going to be a boggy ride!
From the first few pages, I was hooked by the deliciously creepy atmosphere. Deaton doesn’t shy away from the disgusting and unsettling, and as a horror aficionado, I savored the vivid descriptions and stomach-churning scenes. The opening was everything I crave in a horror novel: eerie, evocative, and engaging. Yet, as the narrative unfurled, it felt like we hit a substantial dip, and the promise of Gothic thrills gave way to something more akin to a rushed young adult novel.
At the heart of the story are twins Lucy and Sarah, bound not only by their striking looks but also by their tangled relationships. Right from the start, I found myself more drawn to Sarah, reveling in her chapters filled with letters, her obsession with the bog woman, and her slow descent into madness. Deaton’s writing in these moments sparkled; I was completely captivated. Conversely, Lucy’s chapters felt like a chore. Her inner monologues and somewhat irritating personality didn’t resonate with me, making her sections drag.
One of my biggest gripes was how the story’s Gothic tone began to falter. I noticed phrases that felt anachronistic, like "the scene of the crime.” While it’s technically possible, it pulls you out of the immersive experience when something feels so out of place. The setting is a crucial part of horror literature, and these missteps dimmed the ambiance significantly.
Then there’s the all-important sibling relationship. I was eager to dive into the complexities of Lucy and Sarah’s bond, but it felt strangely unemotional. I wanted to feel the depths of their connection, the rich tapestry of love, rivalry, and shared trauma. Frustratingly, I had more questions than answers about their relationship by the end. And the conclusion? It left me scratching my head.
([[Spoilers Ahead]]) The overarching themes felt muddled: is the message that men are inherently evil? Or that having a creature puppeteering your sister is a twisted form of connection? If the goal was to embody female empowerment and rage, it sadly fell flat for me. Yes, the mistreatment of women is grossly portrayed, but that alone didn’t evoke any real emotion—it felt more "meh" than cathartic.
If I could suggest a few tweaks to enhance the narrative, they would be as follows:
- Embrace more period-appropriate language; maybe add some lyrical purple prose.
- Trim the inner dialogues; sometimes less is more.
- Avoid redundancy in plotting (e.g., characters internally debating only to do what they were initially contemplating).
- Dig deeper into character backstories, particularly the enigmatic role of the mad aunt.
Despite my mixed feelings, I’m genuinely curious to see where Deaton takes her storytelling next. Her potential shines brightly, and I know she has the capability to craft something truly unforgettable.
Who might enjoy Blood on Her Tongue? If you love horror tales with an eerie atmosphere and complex sibling dynamics, this could still be worth your time—even if it doesn’t quite hit the mark for everyone. Overall, while my reading experience was a bit of a rollercoaster, I’m excited to see how this evolving author’s voice develops as she moves forward. Happy reading!
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