This is a horror novel like no other.

It feels strange to rate and review a book as personal as this one. The author poured so much of his own self and history into the prose. Woven between the chapters, the author inserts commentary on his own experience that lead to writing the book, completely breaking the fourth wall. The author made this cold hearted reviewer feel things. I ached for the pain and uncertainty he experienced living as a openly gay man in prejudice, uncaring world.

I have read the author's previous novel, The Bone Mother, which is a very different kind of story. The two books are so different that I cannot predict if the same readers will necessarily like both. Each is well written, providing an out-of-the-box horror, but they approach the genre from such a different perspective. All that being said, readers will just have to try out both books for themselves.

This is certainly not your traditional horror novel. In fact, some readers may try to put other genre labels on a book like this calling it more memoir or literary fiction. The horror of the novel draw from real life horrors rather than fictional monsters and ghosts. I didn't find this novel scary in the usual sense, but it was certainly horrifying in its own way.

While I loved this story a lot, I will also acknowledge that own voices readers will undoubtedly get so much more from this text. I am a bisexual woman, not a gay man, and my experience in Toronto is limited to the airport terminal. I have no doubt that this book would be very powerful to readers that more closer share the author's life,

Regardless of your backstory, I think these kinds of stories are so important to read. I would highly recommend this one to readers, including those that normally avoid the horror genre. At its core, this is a moving and poignant story of love and loss, which are universal themes that cross all boundaries.

Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book from the publisher.

This was a very complex and winding story that spans over thirty years in a rapidly changing and gentrifying Toronto through the rotating perspective of a network of queer friends, lovers and acquaintances. Gay men are going missing, and against the backdrop of the AIDS/HIV epidemic and society's continued apathy towards the community, the men are never found. The author infuses what would be nonfiction with a hybrid of Scottish and English folklore to make it an eerie and gripping read. Otherwise, a slasher with the same premise would not have been something I want to read given how terrifyingly real it is. The fear factor comes from the combination of real life horror of what's happening and the mysterious force that is driving an intense connection between the taken and the left behind. There was also better representation of POC, queer women and trans characters than I was expecting. I have content warnings for two scenes of sexual assault (the before and after are detailed, not during but still upsetting).

Demchuk included interludes that examine the relationship between queerness and horror, which I enjoyed. He also connected the plot with his own personal story, which was interesting but maybe could have been pared down some. I was reading an arc on my phone, so I think there were some formatting issues that also impacted how I interacted with those sections. There were some unnecessary (or questionable) departures and some rushed things at the end, but overall I enjoyed this more than I thought I would. It was a heavy read and heartbreaking at times, causing me to question if maybe it could have been shortened. Now, I wonder if that was an intended effect, to mirror how exhausting thirty years of disappearances, losses and changes can be.