The biggest thanks to Tor Nightfire and NetGalley for the eARC!

Every once in a while, a book manages to take me completely by surprise. I pick it up without knowing
too much, dive in, and get very, very lost in its pages. Liz Kerin’s Night’s Edge was certainly one of those
novels that knocked me squarely off my feet. The story of Mia and her strained relationship with her
toxic mother is the subject of this first novel, one that ends in shambles. Never have I read a piece of
literature that so authentically and brutally examines narcissistic relationships and the lifestyle of
attempting to appease those who never will be satisfied. More impressive is the creative lens in which
we view these conflicts as the world has fallen prey to a pandemic of vampirism. That’s right, Mia’s
mother is blood-sucking in more than one way. When I realized there would indeed be a sequel, First
Light, I knew I would probably be just as emotionally wrecked as before, but nothing could prepare me
for the love I have found for this story.

It’s important to note that I’m writing this with tears in my eyes given I just read the last few pages of
First Light, a book that sprints headlong into darkness, unafraid of harsh truths, yet delivers one of the
most optimistic endings I’ve read in months. The events of this novel jump around a bit with past and
present timelines, but essentially things pick right back up where we left Mia. Life as she’s known it has
been completely flipped upside down as she tries to navigate the world she only knew through the
limited scope her mother allowed. Ultimately, Mia finds herself living in New York City, wrestling with
her sense of stability, ambition, identity, and purpose.

The phrase, “Wherever you go, there you are” frequently resurfaced in my mind as Mia describes her
“second shadow.” While she can physically relocate herself from a place that brought happiness
matched with unfathomable pain, the emotional turmoil Mia struggles with cannot be left in Arizona.
Many of the arbitrary rules established by her mother to keep them “safe” are obsolete now. In the
stark light of freedom, Mia experiences a paralysis of sorts, a distrust for the ability to break those
arbitrary rules.

“She never shows herself for long. A split-second shudder, and my shadow twin is gone. I still feel
her, though. That added weight. Watching me. Is she watching me or is she
watching over me? There’s a difference. Right now, I don’t know.”

Kerin manages to illustrate the haunting nature of the lingering effects of someone who overpowers
your life, your will. This is a horror novel that thrives on the terrors of grief, loss, and coming to terms
with your own loss of self.

To boot, Kerin’s pacing is light-speed with the two separate timelines converging at the culmination of
Mia’s past and where she is heading. I truly had a hard time putting this book down and often found
myself so adrift in the pages that I lost track of time. Mia’s emotional strife steers many of the decisions
she makes, for better or worse. There is a dynamic nature to First Light in that we are witness to
numerous transformations and evolutions of multiple characters. It’s a thrilling journey that is laced with
heart-wrenching prose and an unflinching examination of the complex emotions established during a
traumatic time in Mia’s life.

Perhaps the best amalgamation of the trauma Mia endured as a child is Devon himself, the Sara
(vampire) who changed Mia’s mother in Night's Edge. While he could be solely blamed for the state of
her childhood, Mia’s response to Devon is complex. In bringing so much strife to her life, he was also a
constant and one of the few people who knew Mia’s mother as well as she did. His reappearance in
Mia’s life also equates to the arrival of a multitude of emotions. There’s something so clear and fluid in
the presentation of these feelings that are normally so hard to place and describe. Kerin has all of my
applause and respect for finding words for feelings that are normally nameless ghosts.

Above all, the journey we take with Mia may be bloody, horrific, gruesome, and traumatic, but in the
end, Kerin’s conclusion makes this unyielding heartache more than worth it. Coming to terms with the
brutality of one’s past is never a light-hearted affair and doesn’t instill emotions of optimism and hope.
Yet, the characters within this story shine with grit, determination, and above all, resiliency. Mia finds a
place of understanding regarding her relationship with her mother, one that doesn’t force forgiveness
for all sins.

“I do not forgive her for what she did to me. The way she hijacked my childhood and shunned the
woman I became. But I forgive her for the places she found solace. Even the places I’d never enter
myself. I know who she was, as I know who she became, as intimately as I know every scar on my
body. Scars that still itch. Even rupture when I don’t expect them to. But there’s room for
forgiveness between the edges of my pain. Maybe someday, I’ll be able to live in the space
where the two truths meet.”

The distinction of recognition and forgiveness with grace between those two spaces is one of the most
beautiful concepts I’ve come across in literature. Through both Night’s Edge and First Light, a certain
ease can be found in the certainty of Kerin’s words and the story she chooses to tell. I feel as though I
have been equally haunted and emotionally moved by Mia’s story, one that reaches a conclusion with
this second novel. While I’m heartbroken to be saying goodbye, I cannot be more comforted and
touched by her ending. Liz Kerin, you have a forever fan.