Bitterbloom by
Teagan Olivia King
My Rating:⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
Spice Rating: 🌶🌶
(This was haunting)
Blurb:
The villagers of Rixton—including Adelaide’s father, the vicar—believe her to be the monster responsible for all the town’s tragedies, spurred on by the strange visions and blackouts caused by her chronic illness. Kept locked away except for funerals, even Addie herself begins to wonder if she is the one with blood on her hands.
But when she discovers a peculiar bell nestled in a riverbed, Addie realizes the truth behind her strange visions—they are actually the ghosts of the village’s dead searching for rest. With the bell’s strange power allowing her to see the lost souls and open a doorway to the Rowan Wood where they are trapped, she strikes a deal with the ghost of Bram Avery and the young lord Ransom Black to venture into the hellish purgatory.
As the three make their way deeper into the Wood, each motivated by their own desperate desires, trust turns to betrayal and flawless facades begin to flicker. It may be that the ones Addie has so longed to reunite are those who have been lying to her her entire life.
My Review:
What unfolds is a tense, haunted trek through a forest that becomes a
character in its own right, hostile, oppressive, and unforgettable. The Rowan
Wood isn’t just a backdrop; it’s a living force, and the prose makes you smell
the decay and feel the claustrophobic dark pressing in on all sides.
This was exactly the kind of story I crave: a gothic tale steeped
in dread, threaded with hope, and fueled by emotional depth.
The atmosphere is intoxicating from the very first chapter. King has a talent
for writing the uncanny in a way that lingers, shadowy edges, whispered
warnings, the sense that someone is always watching. Yet she balances it with
moments of warmth and yearning that keep the narrative from sinking into pure
despair. That contrast gives the book its teeth.
The characters shine just as brightly. Everyone, from the sympathetic to the
despicable, feels textured and human. Adelaide’s arc is the standout, her
struggle to reinterpret her illness, her visions, and her identity gives the
story a strong emotional pulse. Her dynamic with Bram and Ransom is intricate
and turbulent, built on uncertainty and ulterior motives. While some shifts in
their relationships happen quickly, they ultimately serve her growth and the
story’s ever-tightening tension.
A few twists lean dramatic, and certain romantic beats with Ransom stretched
my suspension of disbelief, but none of it derailed the narrative for me. In
fact, the last third of the book becomes a nonstop surge of revelations and
danger. I devoured the final hundred pages.
Ultimately, Bitterbloom delivers on every
promise it makes:
·
a claustrophobic, beautifully crafted world
·
characters shaped by grief, longing, and secrets
·
a dark fantasy journey that’s as emotional as it
is terrifying
If you love stories where the dread is palpable, the relationships are
messy, and the woods are full of monsters both literal and human, this one
leaves a mark. It’s haunting in all the right ways, and it stays with you long
after the final page.
Bitterbloom opens on a village steeped in
superstition, where Adelaide Thorn has become the unwilling scapegoat for every
misfortune that plagues Rixton.
What unfolds is a tense, haunted trek through a forest that becomes a
character in its own right, hostile, oppressive, and unforgettable. The Rowan
Wood isn’t just a backdrop; it’s a living force, and the prose makes you smell
the decay and feel the claustrophobic dark pressing in on all sides.
This was exactly the kind of story I crave: a gothic tale steeped
in dread, threaded with hope, and fueled by emotional depth.
The atmosphere is intoxicating from the very first chapter. King has a talent
for writing the uncanny in a way that lingers, shadowy edges, whispered
warnings, the sense that someone is always watching. Yet she balances it with
moments of warmth and yearning that keep the narrative from sinking into pure
despair. That contrast gives the book its teeth.
The characters shine just as brightly. Everyone, from the sympathetic to the
despicable, feels textured and human. Adelaide’s arc is the standout, her
struggle to reinterpret her illness, her visions, and her identity gives the
story a strong emotional pulse. Her dynamic with Bram and Ransom is intricate
and turbulent, built on uncertainty and ulterior motives. While some shifts in
their relationships happen quickly, they ultimately serve her growth and the
story’s ever-tightening tension.
A few twists lean dramatic, and certain romantic beats with Ransom stretched
my suspension of disbelief, but none of it derailed the narrative for me. In
fact, the last third of the book becomes a nonstop surge of revelations and
danger. I devoured the final hundred pages.
Ultimately, Bitterbloom delivers on every
promise it makes:
·
a claustrophobic, beautifully crafted world
·
characters shaped by grief, longing, and secrets
·
a dark fantasy journey that’s as emotional as it
is terrifying
If you love stories where the dread is palpable, the relationships are
messy, and the woods are full of monsters both literal and human, this one
leaves a mark. It’s haunting in all the right ways, and it stays with you long
after the final page.
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