Review of Gods & Monsters (Serpent & Dove, #3) by Shelby Mahurin
In 2019, I was swept away by Serpent & Dove, falling hard for the thrilling witch/witch hunter romance that had all the banter and fun I craved. I still remember the excitement of diving into it, feeling the magic seep into every page. Fast forward to now, and my anticipation for Gods & Monsters was palpable—after all, this was the conclusion of what I thought would be a captivating trilogy. Unfortunately, what I was met with made me feel like a jilted lover. Let’s talk about it.
Gods & Monsters, while hitting the shelves with sure allure and promise, turned out to be a real disheartening experience. Shelby Mahurin’s narrative picks up where we left off, and when I started, I was cautiously optimistic. The first 150 pages provided a spark, stirring memories of the earlier books. However, that spark dimmed rapidly. From page 150 to the grueling 450, I found myself dragging through what felt like endless dialogue—so much talking, yet so little substance. It was as if the characters were lost in endless conversations rather than devising a way to confront their obvious villain, Morgane.
The pacing was particularly disjointed. Many plot points should have packed a punch but instead felt scattered, leaving me wondering if Mahurin had misplaced her narrative compass. And let’s talk about Morgane—our supposed antagonist. With no backstory or depth, she became just another cookie-cutter villain who was simply evil for the sake of the plot. I craved complexity, something to make her motivations clear and compelling. Alas, it never materialized.
From a technical standpoint, Mahurin’s use—or misuse—of French spoke volumes about the book’s shortcomings. As a francophone reader, encountering glaring grammatical errors and inconsistencies made my heart ache. There were instances where the language felt shoehorned in, as if she was trying too hard to impress but ended up just frustrating her audience. For example, addressing Célie as "madame" instead of the more fitting "mademoiselle" left me scratching my head.
While there were moments of potential—particularly with side characters like Coco—most were underdeveloped and blended together, often appearing out of nowhere without proper introductions. It was bewildering at times, and I found myself asking, “Who is this now?” The lack of cohesion in the character arcs disengaged me further.
In the latter half of the book, we finally reached a gripping climax near page 490, showcasing a surprisingly thrilling moment. Yet, waiting so long for something engaging felt immensely unsatisfying. If only Mahurin had leveraged that intensity earlier in the narrative, the experience would have been more rewarding.
As I reached the conclusion, I was left with more questions than answers. The romantic elements may have been wrapped up, but the profound conflicts—between the Church and witches—were left dangling, untouched. It almost felt like Mahurin lost sight of the foundational themes that made Serpent & Dove sparkle with potential.
Gods & Monsters is one I might tentatively recommend to die-hard fans of the series, those who appreciate cozy fantasy romance regardless of its flaws. However, for those seeking depth within their fantasy narratives or a substantive resolution to the series’ larger conflicts, this book may leave you wanting. My heart, once filled with excitement, feels heavy with missed opportunities. I sincerely hope that future works find a way to weave magic and reality more seamlessly, capturing the exceptional potential each world holds.
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