For the past two days, I’ve been haunted by a demon. She has consumed my every waking moment, either with deep thoughts or tentative looks over my shoulder to see if there was more to the shadow lurking in the hallway. Her name—Beatrysel.
Even as I cleanse my house with incense and holy water, I’m struck with the mastery in which this story was delivered. I’ve never actually read a novel where the premise was written in present tense third person before, and I must admit the style threw me for a loop at first. But once I got the hang of the delivery (about three chapters in), I realized it was brilliant. The pacing gave a sense of urgency to Julian’s plight all the way to the last page.
The plot was terrifying in a way that only possession can be. Mr. Worthen obviously has a vast knowledge of the occult arts, and his descriptions of this secretive society could place even a novice into the sense of a practitioner’s rites and rituals. This awareness of course adds an extra layer of fear to an already emotionally charged tale, leaving the reader jumping at every little bump in the night and questioning reality. So, grab a bag of chocolate, your favorite talisman (believe me, you’re going to need it), and allow Julian to introduce you to his creation. She’s beautiful, she’s deadly, and her love for her maker knows no bounds. Don’t speak her name, don’t even think it. Forget you've ever heard of Beatrysel.
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