That prologue hooked me, HARD and the book never let me go after that. I loved this dark, trippy, and bloody story of transformation, old gods, twisted magic, and the way the memories and stories of a place, a family, a people, a world can reverberate through individual lives. Liz and Julian (and Mary!) make for excellent company as we go ever deeper into the darkness of San Ojuela. There's spiky, gnarly vibe to Olivas's story and it winds its way like a snake through lives and places, politics and power.

Great book! It had all the fears of growing up. Make a choice. Turn the page or close the book. Enter the darkness if you wish!

Sundown in San Ojuela is a brilliant story that blends horror, cultural identity, and family together into a captivating tale that will keep the reader engaged until the end.

The characters are really what makes Sundown in San Ojuela so engaging. Liz is a phenomenal character whose relationships with her family feel real, stressful, and loved.

Olivas' writing is so immersive, pulling the reader into deep descriptions that come alive on the pages. You really get a feel to the sounds, smells, and textures of the setting, as well as the eeriness of the supernatural elements.

“You’re you, there’s nothing you can do about that.”


Do you know who you are? M.M. Olivas’ debut novel, Sundown in San Ojuela is full of characters either wrestling with, running from, or discovering their identities. Part gothic horror, part bildungsroman, part neo-noir western, the book is full of darkness. The evil presented in San Ojuela is fictional, but likely recognizable wherever you go in this country. In many ways, San Ojuela is every small town in the U.S. We’re introduced to the titular setting through Oliver; a young man living with his undocumented parents, desperate for escape from his mother and father, and from this feeling of being different that even he hasn’t yet seemed to fully uncover. Olivas describes Oliver’s depression in shape and form but leaves it unnamed and open for interpretation from the reader, but I suspect some readers will recognize it more clearly than others. What we can say concretely about the individual is that their father wants them to fit into a masculine box and that he’s isolated by losing his friends to colleges he cannot afford. In frustration, he lashes out and hits the open road in his father’s prized car without knowing where he’s going.


There’s a fitting irony to being introduced to San Ojuela through a need for escape because this is a novel about things you cannot run away from. Upon his arrival, Oliver finds himself violently harassed at an ICE checkpoint. After, he soon encounters a battered boy fleeing a salivating mob of hegemonic conformity in the form of small-town teenagers shouting homophobic and racist slurs. Things are not as they appear with the boy in the black-striped serape, now sitting shotgun, and he leads Oliver to Casa Coytol, a legendary Spanish hacienda, the local haunted house of San Ojuela. There’s quite a bit more than ghosts lurking behind its walls. I’ll leave Oliver's fate to you, reader, but all this is prologue.


From here, the novel picks up with ‘Dark Liz Who Can See the Dead,’ the first of many main POV characters. Liz is nineteen and a dancer who sees ghosts. She believes her sixth sense is the result of losing her soul. Upon learning of the death of their Tiá Marisol, she and her sister must return to San Ojuela where they spent time as children living with their father and aunt. As they stand to inherit her estate, the task of getting Tiá Marisol’s affairs in order falls to teenage Liz, her younger sister, and their mother. The girls are infamous in San Ojuela, as the two children who, according to local legend, disappeared from Casa Coytl, the hacienda which is now the bulk of their inheritance.


Samuel was the caretaker of Casa Coytl, hired by Tiá Marisol, and his presence is immediately suspicious. He's got a little Mr. Dark from Something Wicked this Way Comes and Leland Gaunt from Needful Things in him. He lives on the grounds and runs a local antique store, the archetype fits him like a well-worn suit, though his fascination with Mesoamerican culture and the conquistador armor he possesses sets him apart from his literary forebears.


The large, diverse cast of characters are intimately relatable, something I'd attribute to Olivas’ emotionally layered and poetic prose that translates even the most specific of situations into something recognizable. This is absolutely not universal, but even violent unlikable characters are painted with such humanity that they feel distinct, understandable and alive.


The prose style varies depending on the point of view, Dark Liz is told in the traditional third person which lends a kind of omniscience to the reader. We get the sense that Liz, haunted by the dead, is never alone and is always being watched, which is true but it also parallels her anxiety. She’s struggling with the secret feelings she has for her classmates in dance, and to accept herself. In denial and fear, she finds herself broken, without a soul, and tied to the embodiment of death.


Then there's the vampire, the Teōtl, the boy in the black striped serape who contains “the night.” He fears the darkness within him and wants to rid himself of the curse. Told in the second person the prose emphasizes his alien nature as he often feels disconnected from his own experience. This is a character at war with himself and the passages in which he loses control emphasize this. His identity is eventually revealed, but I’ll leave that for the page. This character is burdened with an unfair amount of trauma, a lost boyfriend, and all the brutality queer children all too often face in small towns across the USA.


Sheriff Jackson is made relatable by the first-person present tense, which lends his passages intimacy but also a coercive tone. A former ICE agent, and a Hispanic son of immigrants, Olivas renders him skillfully with humanity, wracked with guilt and full of uncontrollable violence and rage. I found something sympathetic in him, but he is also a character I found irredeemably poisoned by his macho worldview. Even when he sees the consequences of his violence, that he’s hurting people, he’s unable to imagine a world where he isn’t a bruiser in a pair of boots which is sort of how he finds himself as Sheriff, wanting to stop the Chupacabra he encountered during a bloody ICE raid in his former life. Subject to the demands duty places on property over people, he breaks people as they lash out against the broken system he represents.


Ultimately, all of the characters share Latine identities and are living in a very honest depiction of contemporary America, where their families are subject to the fascist abuses of a country fueled by the schizophrenic white nativist delusion that has polluted our political discourse like toxic waste. In this book, ICE is the most sinister evil among cosmic Gods and actual vampires. The juxtaposition of the normalization of human cruelty with metaphysical evil had an absurd way of elevating the more sinister and monstrous nature of the former. Even the title takes on a double meaning, San Ojuela, home to vampires, is assessed as a “sundown town” by Oliver early in the novel referring to the ICE checkpoints sure to stop any non-white passer through.


As the blood starts flowing, and Sheriff Jackson finds himself with more bodies than answers, Liz and Mary find themselves in ever-increasing danger as they reconnect with their old childhood friend who may not be the same boy they left in San Ojuela.

There’s a lot to juggle here, and as the book picks up pace, you may find yourself fighting whiplash as the literary voice skips from character to character, but I never found it too dizzying to keep up with. Given the environment this book was released, now exacerbated from the time it was written, this is often a difficult read. The prejudice and brutality of colonialism, racism, and queerphobia are all thoroughly examined. Both queer and Hispanic identities are central to this novel with the bloody history of colonialism, Hispanic legends, and the Mesoamerican mythology informing much of the text. Undoubtedly, readers will be forced to confront things that are currently happening to their queer and immigrant neighbors.


Sundown in San Ojuela works as a horror novel because it understands what’s scariest in the world is the way we treat each other, and the way we turn one another, and ourselves into monsters. Reader, this one is dark, I must warn. Some characters that deserve survival and happiness don’t find it. But it’s not without hope which is found in each other and cooperation. At the end of the day, this book feels like it will find a home in the hands of outsiders. It feels like it was written as a plea to keep going. It feels like it’s for “you, who want to live.” Live to spite it all.

Sundown in San Ojuela is a wonderfully crafted story told by multiple narrators who at first seem quite disconnected but have their stories intertwined seemlessly by the climax, which, thrillingly, begins at the halfway point and continues through the end. The writing is thoughtful and spare, expressive and intense. MC Liz is haunted and finds her answers within the family lore of her ancestors, while trying to decipher exactly what needs to happen in order to break a centuries old curse, and processing her grief over a myriad of transitions that any person who has been a not-quite-adult will relate with. This was an excellent, emotional read that kept me guessing every step of the way.

This book was good! I liked it but didn’t love it. I definitely see potential in it and look forward to seeing what else the author does.

Thanks to Net Galley and Lanternfish Press for an Advanced E copy of this interesting book.
This book will appeal to those who love Silvia Moreno-Garcia and Isabel Cañas and Gabino Iglesias.
This has such a gothic, spooky feel right from the start. It opens with a jolting terrifying event and just keeps on going. Our main character returns to her childhood home after her Aunt has passed, and confronts many realities in this Fantasy/Horror story that brings in Pre- Hispanic folklore within a modern setting.
While the start was not at all slow, there was definitely some information giving that was a little long, but it was delivered in such a dreamy/creepy style that I still found it to be enjoyable. Some noted there were a lot of POV changes and while it was sometimes a little confusing, Ifound that to be part of the way the novel itself was a little eerie and disorienting. Who's doing what now? How is everyone affected? What happens next?
So if you've been looking for something creepy after the peppermint and cocoa of Christmas, this should make its way onto your reading list.
M.M. Olivas is an author to watch.

Dark. Unique. Powerful.
I loved the way this novel gives each character a strong voice and a strong backstory. I was never ready to switch povs but when it did I was never ready to leave that character. I loved all the themes this book touched on - family life, forgiveness, personal identity, acceptance, and so much more.

Sundown in San Ojuela was an interesting read...
A bit too slow for my personal taste, I enjoyed the perspective and the weaving of the lore... But ultimately I found myself very confused.
I appreciated the heavy topics it took on, but the level of writing required to tackle said topics felt a bit YA-ish at times.

I feel like this was a book that just wasn't for me personally, but I can immediately think of several people I want to recommend it to, to get their thoughts .... So, if it sounds interesting to you, be sure to check it out.
Just be prepared for a slower paced ride with an undecided destination.

This book was a trip! The first half I kept taking breaks, trying to put the pieces together. Ultimately, my knowledge of the Aztec pantheon and creation story wasn't complete enough to have the pieces to put together. The through line from colonization was also fuzzy, with a woman killed by the Spanish for witchcraft not fully threshed out or fully occupying the space her character took in holding the plot together.

That said, this is a fun horror romp that also takes on some complex subjects. I appreciated the nuance and variety of Hispanic characters who inhabited this town, even while I didn't fully like or understand all of them. The only thing keeping this from a 5 was that some of the characters seemed flat or seemed to have a bigger role than they should? and that first half of trying to figure out what's up. The first half is far from a deal-breaker, especially if you can sit back and go with the flow of a story even if you don't understand it. Or, to help it out, read up on Aztec beliefs about the underworld and creation. Highly recommend!!

I have debated for a while about how to write this review. I ended up DNFing, but I don’t want to give a star rating that would hurt the book. The horror started right away. The setting was Latine in all the very best ways. I sometimes got lost in whose perspective we were in and the time period we were in. I also think I might not have been in the right mindset when I was reading it. I think reading it physically would’ve been an easier read. I definitely want to come back to this book and try again sometime.

This book was pretty interesting due to the setting and how familiar it felt to me due to being from a small town too where lore is crucial to everyday life. My only complain was that it read YA even when exploring serious themes such as the horrors immigrants face while traveling the desert.

This is so unique. It is rare to find a book that takes all this lore and weaves it together into a book. I loved it. It took me a while to get it ready but that was on me.
I'm actually going to buy this one.

I have never read a book like this before. It weaves the cultures and heritages of the conquered and the conquerors from the points of view of mixed American/Mexican/indigenous identities. It was dark and moody and unpredictable. Perfect for fans of horror seeking diverse perspectives and lore.

With such a unique plot, it really didn't need to rely on subverting storytelling conventions. There was no need to jump between first, second, and third POVs and past and present tense for the same timeline. These distortions were jarring and not in a way that felt like it supported the story. I would have rated higher without it.

Thank you Netgalley and the publisher for an advanced reader copy in exchange for this honest review

M.M. Olivas’ Sundown in San Ojuela is a haunting, atmospheric novel that masterfully intertwines family legacy, personal trauma, and cosmic horror. With its evocative desert setting and spine-chilling lore, it draws readers into a story that feels both deeply personal and terrifyingly otherworldly.

The novel centers on Liz Remolina, a protagonist as complex as the landscape she returns to. San Ojuela, her childhood home, is a place steeped in tragedy and secrets, and Olivas captures Liz’s internal struggle with vivid, poignant prose. Her journey to confront both her family’s past and the horrors lurking in the desert feels raw and authentic, making her a character readers can’t help but root for.

San Ojuela itself is as much a character as Liz or Julian. Olivas’ descriptions of the barren, eerie desert are so vivid they border on cinematic. The setting’s isolation and desolation amplify the tension, providing the perfect stage for the unsettling gods that stalk the story. These ancient, malevolent forces are chillingly rendered, their presence creating a sense of dread that lingers even in the novel’s quieter moments.

Julian, Liz’s childhood best friend, adds another layer of mystery and complexity. His transformation since their shared past raises questions about identity and loyalty. The dynamic between him and Liz is compelling, blending nostalgia with unease as they navigate their way through a town that feels alive with secrets.

Olivas’ writing excels in its ability to blend genres. The novel is equal parts gothic horror, psychological thriller, and speculative fiction, with elements of folk mythology that give it a unique edge. The themes of grief, memory, and redemption are woven seamlessly into the narrative, adding emotional depth to the supernatural elements.

If there’s a flaw, it’s that some of the novel’s mysteries remain intentionally unresolved. While this adds to the eerie atmosphere, readers who prefer clear answers might find themselves frustrated. However, this ambiguity feels appropriate for a story rooted in cosmic horror, where the unknown is part of the terror.

The death of her aunt brings Liz back to Casa Coyotl, a hacienda she's about to inherit, ghosts and all. Because Liz sees dead people. And they roam Casa Coyotl, and the surrounding fields and forests. Sundown in San Ojuela is a mash-up - haunted house / ghost story with a unique societal and cultural perspective. Liz and her family are brown. There's racism, there's immigration, there's colonial history. In other words, there's a lot going on.

The creep factor was high, the reveal was drawn out, the action disorienting. Good ghosts, bad ghosts, and things going bump in the night (chupacabra, anyone?). Throw in Aztec mythology and vampires, messy characters and ICE, mix it all in with some good old family drama, and you may start to get the picture. In this ambitious novel, there were many hits and a few misses (I never had a good sense of Casa Coyotl. Maybe it could have been described better?).

The originality kept my attention, Olivas spinning many plates to create this world.

My thanks to NetGalley and Lanternfish Press for the digital ARC.

"The dead cannot come back to hurt you. Only the living hurt each other."

Genuinely impressive. A spooky story with Latin-American folklore, anti-colonialist themes, queer characters, a haunted house, and bloody altercations. 19-year-old Elizabeth returns to her childhood home after the death of her aunt and must contend with her personal and the literal ghosts that stalk the old house, as her childhood friend Julian, now something much worse than just a boy, grapples with the darkness inside him and the forces he serves.
The novel employs first-, second-, and third-person narration at different times, meshing different narrative voices into a stunning symphony of perspectives, which I found worked splendidly. It took me a lot longer to get through this book than I would have liked, but I was never bored. The indigenous mythology was fascinating, and the monsters, both human and supernatural, were properly terrifying.

Thank you to Netgalley for providing a digital copy of this book for review consideration.

This was such an exciting and tense read. I thoroughly enjoyed my time with Liz, which sounds a little bizarre given the dark and brutal themes captured in the pages. I found her to be an imperfect but completely captivating and real character, my time with her flew by considering that this is more of a slower-paced book. I was fully investing in the complex family secrets coupled with the supernatural elements and I felt immersed in the world of Mexican folklore.

I struggled initially with the changing of tenses as well as the flashbacks, sometimes I had to slow my reading down to make sure that I was following the story from the right perspective, but once I was further into the book, that stopped and I was completely sucked in.

This book will really stay with me and I would recommend it to anyone interested in dark thrillers with a folklore/fantasy edge.

DNF'd at 36%. The back and forth between present-day and memories is unclear and makes for a confusing reading experience. The pacing is uneven.

This is a really great story that I was invested in. The writing is very immersive and I had a hard time putting this down! I would recommend this! Special Thank You to M.M.Olivas, Lanternfish Press and NetGalley for allowing me to read a complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.