Such a fantastically haunting story! The writing was almost seamless, just pulled me right in. I literally could not put it down until the very end! I can't wait to read more!

I wanted to really love this book, but it ended up feeling really repetitive and a bit dull. The concept was intriguing, interesting, and culturally important. However, I found myself not being interested or even sometimes confused on the why behind the hauntings.

I wasn't sure what to expect with this book. It was the cover that actually drew me in.

I'm not going to recap the story, that is for you to discover yourself (just be prepared for a array of emotions)

But I will tell you this story sucked me in right from the beginning. To me, the supernatural aspect came across to me as her mental state. Anyone who suffers from mental illness can understand what I mean by that.

All in all it is a very powerful book, one that I was NOT expecting when I sat down to read it.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC

We are introduced to Alejandra, a wife, mother, and homemaker, who grapples with a sense of entrapment, a life devoid of control. She feels scrutinized by her husband, used by her children, and unnoticed by the rest of the world.

Adding to her isolation, Alejandra lacks close family support. Adopted into a highly religious family as a baby, she has since severed ties with them. Yet, she had reconnected with her birth mother, fostering the beginnings of a relationship, until circumstances forced her to relocate, putting distance between them.

This marks my first encounter with V. Castro’s novels, and I was genuinely impressed by the vivid and horrifying imagery she conjured on the page. It’s a narrative that can make your toes curl, with visceral and cringe-worthy moments that stand out. What adds depth to the story is the cultural connection between the haunting and Alejandra’s heritage.

V. Castro’s storytelling is riveting, delivering vivid descriptions of supernatural horror that are both finely crafted and chilling.

Thanks to Netgalley and the publishers for sending a digital ARC in exchange for an honest review.

When she was younger, all Alejandra wanted was to discover her past. But now, as a mother to three children and a wife to an overbearing husband, she finds herself slipping away and haunted by a ghastly figure in white. A demon by the name of La Llorona, tied to Alejandra in inextricable ways, wants to take everything from her. And if Alejandra doesn't confront her past, present and future, it just might.

On paper, this should have been one of my favourite books. The premise for this story is nothing short of amazing. Alejandra's struggles as a woman, wife, mother and adoptee are painfully relatable. The demon is an excellent metaphor for the 'curse' of womanhood. And, as a Mexican American myself who spent many years longing for a closer connection to my culture, Alejandra's deepest wants really hit home. Unfortunately, the execution didn't hit quite as hard as the premise for me.

I spent much of my time reading this book wishing I could skip over the many many many metaphors, similes, and other overly 'pretty' writing that, in my opinion, often distracted from the story itself. There were moments when I found myself thinking 'please, just get to the point already', and I hate that those moments not only were often, but started early on, too. This is even more unfortunate, because the book has some really profound and beautiful statements that (at least for me) would have hit harder if they weren't surrounded by so many sentences trying to also be profound when they didn't need to be.

The dialogue was another big issue for me. It often felt stilted and one-note, to the point where I could pull out a quote from one character and not necessarily be able to tell you who said it. At points reading the dialogue felt like reading a script for a character that's just kind of ... there. The further I got in the book, the more I connected this to somewhat of a pacing issue with the story as a whole. So much time is spent on overly explaining even Alejandra's smallest emotions that we don't get a lot of space dedicated to the passing of time or to thorough explorations of some important events and relationships.

Despite my issues with aspects of the writing, though, I am very glad I read this book. Like I said, the story is beautiful and heartbreaking and so very relatable even to someone who isn't and never plans to be a mother. At its core, The Haunting of Alejandra is a love letter to mothers, and I hope it's found its way to and comforted as many of them as possible.

I was really excited for this book as a Mexican woman because it had references to the lore and culture I’m so familiar and most comfortable with. It started amazingly and really spoke to my soul, as much of what Alejandra was thinking and going through as a woman and a mother were so on point with my own inner turmoil. However, things took a drastic turn after Alejandra sought therapy. I felt like the writing style changed up and went from deep and symbolic thought to sped up and repetitive. It became difficult to stay engaged and I lost connection with Alejandra altogether unfortunately.

Alejandra is haunted by visions of a crying woman. Seeking help, she discovers that the apparition is the ghost of La Llorona, a vengeful demon who targets children. As Alejandra unravels the dark secrets of her family history, she realizes that La Llorona has a connection to her bloodline and that her children are in danger, so she must find the strength to defeat her and protect her family.

The Haunting of Alejandra is a terrifying and immersive horror novel that explores themes of generational trauma, colonization, and motherhood.

Castro's writing is both lyrical and haunting. I really liked how she included aspects of Mexican folk and depicted La Llorona as a complex and tragic figure, comparing her story to Alejandra’s.

I also liked the author ‘s exploration of generational trauma. She shows how the pain and suffering of past generations can be passed down to future generations, and how this can manifest in a variety of ways, including mental illness, addiction, and violence.

Thank you NetGalley and Random House for the gifted copy.

3.75

This was such an interesting book! Castro blends Mexican folk horror with women’s fiction to create an honest depiction of depression, and some of the pains that come with motherhood and the erasure of a woman’s individual identity as they age, and generational trauma. Alejandra is deeply unhappy, with good reason because her husband kind of awful and she’s super depressed, but also she’s being haunted by what may or may not be La Llorona.

While Alejandra is the main character, we also get perspectives from some of her ancestors and some perspectives from the haunter. I thought the way that Castro wove together all of those stories was really well done, especially for how short this book is. It’s a slow burn, but the end is worth it I’m my opinion. The whole novel packs a punch and will leave me thinking about it for quite some time.

I’ve enjoyed what I’ve read from V. Castro in the past and this is no different. I look forward to seeing what she writes next!

This book is not for me and I fear the people who it's for will need a seriously low trigger threshold. From page one it's depressing and draining and it only gets deeper and harder. I had to force myself to pick this up each time because every time I put it down I just wanted to curl up on myself and disappear. DNFing for the sake of myself.

**Thank you NetGalley and Del Rey for the eARC**

Oh man this scared the crap out of me. I loved how they used La Llorana story to further make this book amazing. I loved the character development. A generational curse so strong and when it was broken you felt the relief for Alejandra. V Castro I want to read all your books

This book demonstrates one of the starkest contrasts between premise and execution I’ve read in a while. The fundamental idea of exploring Latina women’s intergenerational trauma, internalized hatred, and complicated relationships with family and motherhood through the predatory specter of La Llorona is a truly rich one. But in my opinion, The Haunting of Alejandra fumbled through this premise with flat characters, painfully direct and cursory messages, and some of the most wooden writing I’ve read in a long time.

To me, this is a pretty striking example of how weak writing can detract from a reading experience. Every time I started to get interested in what was happening in the story, I’d encounter writing that was distractingly awkward and clunky to jar me out of my enjoyment.

“It’s why she felt attracted to him: he was someone different from her.”

“His hands were around the waist of the woman. It was in the shape of a woman who had never carried children.”


"She guided this baby into the world through her physical tunnel, and she wished she had her mother to guide her through the emotional tunnel of childbirth.”


The three main weaknesses I identified - prose, characterization and messages - tended to combine in a really painful way during Alejandra’s therapy sessions. What could have been an emotional and complex exploration of trauma’s legacy and healing never felt more than shallow and painfully heavy-handed to me, and all of it was conveyed in wooden dialogue between characters who never approached feeling real.

“You do need help to heal your mind and heart. Work through the trauma of your past to help you cope with your present.”


“Wow. I know an entity is attacking me. And say you are right and it is La Llorona, why me?”

There were also flashbacks to Alejandra’s female ancestors, and these were quite repetitive. All of them were trapped in unhappy and/or abusive marriages, had sex that they regretted and felt alienated about motherhood and traditional feminine roles. Then La Llorona would inevitably arrive to be described the exact same way multiple times and wreak havoc upon them. Perhaps with the exception of Flor, none of these women felt like distinct people at all.

There were a couple of scenes where Castro’s messages were conveyed at incredibly jarring times, such as when a woman who was in labor while suffering from a gunshot wound paused to contemplate to herself that it’s fine for some women to enjoy housework as long as they aren’t pressured into by their husbands, whose expectations of marriage were also shaped by society's expectations in turn lol. The characters’ (limited third person) internal monologues tended to be phrased in strange anachronistic ways, such as when Alejandra’s mother (a teen at the time) reflected that she “knew [her father] was doing his best as a single father at a time when mothers and fathers had their own domains.”

As I said at the start, the premise is a rich one, and I truly wish that this book had been reworked and refined until it got to a place of doing the idea justice. As I read it, it did not succeed for me in its execution and just felt awkward and underdeveloped.

Alejandra is in a shit marriage, is struggling with the concept of motherhood, and has just about had enough whenever she begins to see a dripping wet, rotten flesh covered entity. It begins "casually" enough- a Ring-esque style image in her pool, stringy black hair barely floating above the water's surface. From here, Alejandra begins a journey of reconnecting with her ancestors, her children, and herself.

This is a story of post-partum depression, highlighted by the lore of La Llorona. It is complicated, heartbreaking, and very real. For this, I believe it deserves at least 3 stars.

I don't know if I love Castro's writing style just yet. I do love the gore, the imagery. Great horror elements. The conversations between characters seemed forced at times and not as natural as I would have preferred. However, I think this is a culturally rich book that deserves a nod and its place within the horror genre.

I received this eARC from NetGalley and the publisher in return for an honest review.

The book opens with Alejandra struggling with motherhood as a woman without a support system: she is barely hanging on when she sees an apparition. As a reader, it was disorienting, and I was uncertain how much to trust what she was experiencing with visions of ghosts, or demons? At the same time, her exhaustion and feelings of a lost identity was strikingly real. Combining a Mexican folkloric creature, La Llorona, with a mother’s mental health struggles was well done. Furthermore, Alejandra was of Mexican-American descent, but had been adopted into a white, evangelical family, disconnected from her cultural heritage.

Alejandra is the center of the story, but the stories of her ancestors through her maternal line are told, a parallel to Alejandra’s journey to finding her identity. There were moments in the story that were gripping, but I also found much of the prose to be utilitarian, and the dialogue in particular to be stilted. I struggled most with the writing involving Alejandra’s therapist.

This took me out of the story at times in what was overall an engrossing novel.

This was such a creepy book!!! Alejandra is a mother and wife who must face a darkness that is rooted deep inside herself and her family. The writing is great and I could hardly put this one down!!

I was interested from the beginning when you hear of Alejandra’s family history. The entity haunting her family is spine chilling and I found that I started looking over my shoulder as I was reading. This is a very unique haunting as it seemed to come from inside rather than an outright haunting. Which I thought made it even scarier!

I recommend this to those who like a good chilling read with a lot of fight and creepy things all along the way.

Thanks so much to NetGalley for the opportunity to read this for my unbiased opinion.

I was very excited for this book. I had read and loved Goddess of Filth by this author so I couldn’t wait to read my hands on this one. And it was so good! I loved how dark this book was. Can’t wait to read more by this author.

I absolutely loved this book. I was not ready for just how good and creepy this book was. The thoughts on motherhood, marriage, family, and more. But how it wraps it all in a Spanish horror story? Perfection. 4 ⭐️

The Haunting of Alejandra is a tale of generational curses and healing. Alejandra finds herself in a new city with her husband and three kids. She is overwhelmed with a sense of dread and finds herself plagued by what she believes are hallucinations. She makes the decision to start therapy and, in doing so, begins to discover generational curses held by the women of her ancestry. Having come from adoption and only recently meeting her birth mother, she has to learn all that she can to discover why she is being plagued by La Llorona to save herself and her children.

While reading this, I saw myself in Alejandra more than I'd ever care to admit, and seeing her fight to break the curses bestowed upon her from her birth was healing in its own way. This was a multi-generational POV, and I found myself absolutely engrossed in each woman's experience as I took in each page. I was absolutely moved by the emotion of each of them from the start to the ends of their lives. This one will sit with me for a while.

Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for an advanced reader copy of this book!

I was so enthralled while reading Castro's book! The setting and atmosphere were chilling, and I loved the interplay of magical realism with the thrilling element of human behavior and trying to figure out where things WENT WRONG. The characters were intriguing, and I found myself committed to their wellbeing and wanting to know what happened to them. I was also so glad to read a Latin-inspired story that combined mysterious elements with something beyond a true-crime gritty detective whodunnit. Such a great read!

I was a little unsure about this at the beginning, but the slow burn in the story was well worth the wait!

V. Castro has started carving out a place for her perspective in contemporary horror, and no one writes quite like her. Her stories have such a strong feminine point of view, informed by Latin American and Indigenous cultures, and are unapologetically sensual. Her traditional publishing debut, "The Haunting of Alejandra," retains those hallmarks from her earlier indie works, but something is lost along the way. The story is a riff on La Llorona and a curse that affects generations of women from the same family, but the present day scenes are a little too sedate. Ultimately, I was left wanting more.