The Divine Flesh is a must-read for fans of cosmic horror and those seeking a story that pushes the boundaries of the genre. It’s a haunting, thought-provoking journey that lingers long after the final page.
This novel is not for the faint of heart, but readers who enjoy philosophical horror with emotional depth will find it unforgettable.

I’m definitely going to be re-reading this one. I feel like I need a few days to process. I loved this. This was, for lack of a better word, divinely weird in the best of ways.

This books writing is chaotic, overwhelming, and amazingly done. It’s confusing, like a fever dream. But you’re drawn in, entranced. A broken couple and an eldritch deity, in an overwhelming twisty turns story. It’s absolutely right up my alley.

If you don’t like twisting narratives and confusing stories it won’t be for you, and that’s ok. More for me!

I found this read a fun and wild ride. It's also a great palate cleanser, not too taxing and ends with a definite resolution.
The author does a really good job describing the transformative and grotesque fleshy events making for some really active visuals.
I recommend this cosmic horror love story for anyone who enjoys body horror with comedic flair (but check trigger warnings).

I loved the concept of this book—it reminded me in some ways of a podcast I enjoy (Malevolent). However upon reading, they are in fact, very different! Jennifer Plummer is a junkie and is being inhabited by a cosmic being called the Divine Flesh. The plot is fascinating and kept me invested. There is a lot of POV jumping and I found it to be confusing at times. There’s a lot of graphic body horror in it too, so please check the warnings on it before reading! Drew is a very talented writer and some of those scenes made me feel nauseous which is a testament to her provocative imagery.

This was absolutely horrifying, and I mean that in the best possible way. There were scenes that made me feel so much viscerally. The writing style really sucked me in.

' [...] but oh dear God what the fuck were you supposed to do when you said the prayers and the demon started praying them with you?'

I'll be completely honest, I have no idea what I just read. It was good? But I didn't understand what was happening most of the time? And I think that gives you the exact atmosphere of this book, actually. We follow Jennifer Plummer, a self-destructive drug addict infested with a god-like thing called Divine Flesh. Things didn't start very well, and they just kept getting worse and worse as the story progressed. There's a lot of horror in here, especially body horror, and it will make you squirm in disgust quite often. It's an interesting exploration of what the human mind can conjure, and what it can endure reading. It's fascinating how I was more disgusted by the acts of certain humans in this story than I was disgusted by Divine Flesh's fleshy, disgusting abominations. And I'm talking about creatures right out of your worst nightmares, with hundreds of eyes and hundreds of teeth ready to devour you. The author's mind created something remarkable here, very much inspired by the Christian concept of God, Judgment Day, the Light, and the creation of humanity.

I'd recommend this if you're interested in something unlike anything else you've (probably) ever read, and if you love to loose your sanity while reading. It's an absolute must to read the triggers first, though, because there are many. I'm not sure if I was exactly the right audience for this, but I did mostly like it, I think.

I wanted to love this book and I usually love a good, weird horror read but this one was so tough to get through and I truly didn’t really know what was happening half of the time. I struggled

I don't usually get into fantasy horror, but this was really interesting. It was a bit of a slow burn and took a bit to get started but I stuck with it and I'm glad I did.

The Divine Flesh isn’t just horror—it’s a descent. A grotesque, mesmerizing, soul-shaking descent into obsession, faith, and the blurred boundary between devotion and decay. Drew Huff doesn’t write to comfort. She writes to confront—and this book had me squirming, breathless, and strangely moved from start to finish.

From the very first page, there’s an unease that settles into your skin. This isn’t shock-for-shock’s-sake horror. It’s body horror with purpose—metaphysical, spiritual, psychological. The kind that makes you question what it means to inhabit a body at all. The kind that asks: If transcendence required sacrifice, how far would you go? And what if the transformation isn't holy, but something far older and hungrier?

The protagonist is haunting in the truest sense—the unraveling both repulsive and magnetic. Huff makes you watch it all happen, and you can’t look away. The prose is lyrical in the most dangerous way: beautiful enough to draw you in, brutal enough to leave scars. It reminded me of the best of Clive Barker or Laird Barron—writers who understand that horror can be deeply human even when it’s soaked in the surreal.

What stayed with me wasn’t just the gore or the dread (though trust me, those are here in abundance). It was the ache. The longing. The terrifying vulnerability of someone reaching for the divine and finding something monstrous instead.

The Divine Flesh is not for the faint of heart—but if you’re drawn to horror that doesn’t flinch, that stares directly into the abyss and lets the abyss smile back, you need to read this. It's raw, it's philosophical, and it's absolutely unforgettable.

Well that was .. bonkers!

The premise for this book is right up my street. Anything including body horror or gore, I will absolutely be drawn to. And the Divine Flesh definitely did justice to the genre in regard to how uncomfortable it made me (in the best way possible).

However, despite the book only being quite short in length, I feel it would’ve benefited from being a little shorter in length. At points, the plot just seemed to disappear for me and I forgot what the whole point of the whole book was.

2.5/5 stars !

Thank you to Net Galley, the author, and the publisher for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

The Divine Flesh by Drew Huff is a wild and visceral horror novel that blends body horror, cosmic horror, dark humor, and elements of the surreal. The story centers around the bizarre and codependent relationship between Jennifer Plummer, a drug mule with a chaotic life, and the "Divine Flesh", an ancient, interdimensional flesh goddess who has inhabited Jennifer's body since birth.
This book is also a love story between Jennifer, the Divine Flesh, and Daryl (Jennifer's ex-husband).

If gore and violence are not your thing, I would stay away from this book. Usually, that is right up my alley- but it didn't hit with this one. Its storyline was convoluted with many run-on inner thoughts and confusing lore. I could have been on board if this book had been a novella and the author's thoughts were more succinct. By the end, I found myself not caring what happens to Jennifer, Daryl, or Daryl's sibling.

I AM WHAT I AM

What a thrilling read! A goddess with Ito-worthy flesh powers and a bubbly personality, a drug-addict who copes with humor who shares a worldly vessel with her, and the average human guy who both of them are in love with. Death Becomes Her meets Tender is the Flesh. It's a fresh and grotesque entry in cosmic horror canon. It manages to have comedic moments without diminishing the impact of ludicrous-but-heart wrenching scenes. All while keeping our main trio centered and evolving.

I will say I found the pacing off. The first third of the narrative is snappy and flows beautifully, but at that 33% mark things start to lag. There are a lot of elements at play in the story - the Divine Flesh and her desire to assimilate the humans around her, the mirror people and their ongoing attempts to reproduce, and the crew of murderous bigots who strive to keep their community straight, white, and Christian. Obviously DF and Jennifer are the most interesting part of the story and what hooked me in. Every time we checked in on the other plot threads, it felt like a schlep to get through. I think the mirror people in particular would have made a great storyline for a novel of their own, and condensed the story to keep Huff's stellar ideas at the forefront.

This book certainly delivered on all of my expectations in the first half alone. But that made the second half difficult to get through, and by the end I was forcing myself to get through the last few chapters so it didn't end up on my DNF list.

I will definitely be following this author and I can't wait to see what they do next!

This just read like a wild drug induced fever dream and I can honestly say, I spent most of the book confused and am not even really sure what happened lol.

I think a lot of people will like this who enjoy odd, unnerving storytelling with a lot of what the heck moments and just that all round weird vibe.

Thank you to NetGalley and the author for the opportunity to read this book

I've struggled with my rating for this one. I also struggled to get through it. There are a lot of good ideas here but I'm not in love with the execution. I flip-flopped a lot on whether or not I liked this book and sadly, despite how messed up it is, I think it's painfully average. In it's ham-fisted effort to be a deep read on dark themes, it ends up being a surface level analysis of love, codependency, and religion

This book reeked of rot, sex, and sanctity — in the best way. From the opening scene, where poor André gets snatched and ritualised like a bargain-bin saint, Huff builds a world that feels like slipping into a fever dream soaked in wine and incense. There’s a cinematic haze to everything, but it’s not for aesthetics' sake — this city of hungry flesh and corrupted faith demands to be felt, not just seen. Think Neon Genesis Evangelion meets The Passion of the Christ, if both were directed by Lars von Trier in the middle of a breakdown.

The Divine Flesh is about hunger for holiness, for intimacy, for death. Everyone wants to be swallowed, sanctified, remembered. This is not a book about clean resolutions or moral redemption. It's about the ugly need to matter — even if it means becoming something monstrous.

Let’s be clear: this book does not flirt with blasphemy — it tongue-kisses it, bites its lip, and invites it home for sacrilegious orgies. Huff doesn’t just question religious devotion; he vivisects it, digs through its entrails, and asks what it means to sacrifice, to be consumed, to worship. There’s real reverence here buried under the gore — not for any church, but for pain as a form of communion. It’s unhinged, yes, but also startlingly sincere.

This book has no brakes. None. You are hurled from scene to scene like a lamb into a volcano. It should be exhausting. And yet — it’s enthralling. Huff knows exactly when to pause the madness for moments of unbearable tenderness or clarity, like a whisper between screams. His prose is indulgent, theatrical, and oddly tactile — I could feel every bruise and breath.

Reading this book felt like being kissed by a martyr and then flayed alive. I adored it. It’s not for the faint of heart, or the devout, or the emotionally stable. But if you’re the kind of person who has ever looked at a bleeding statue and thought, Yes, more please, this is your gospel.

★★★★
Blood-soaked. Blasphemous. Beautiful.

This was so different and definitely bloody, gory, body parts everywhere. I did like the concept and the lore of the Divine Flesh. I wish there had been more but it was already a super packed book. I felt some parts were too long. I did enjoy the pov change between all the characters. It was very detailed and morbid, which I liked. Besides it being a bit too long, I enjoyed it and the audiobook was very good. The way the narrator said “Jennifer- baby”, scratched my brain. I think she did such a job with both, voicing Jennifer and the DF. It was fun and it really set the mood for the book.

I really loved the cover for this (and I know you shouldn’t judge by the cover) but that did draw me in. I like the concept and I do enjoy the writing but there is a lot going on in the story; it can get a bit confusing with the different characters and POVs.

The body horror might be a bit much for some readers, but that didn’t bother me. It’s a big, bold and unique read.

As an extreme horror and splatterpunk fan, I went into The Divine Flesh expecting something bold, brutal, and boundary-pushing—but unfortunately, it didn’t land for me. The concept is wild and original, blending interdimensional horror with body horror and dark satire, but the execution felt rushed and disconnected. The pacing was uneven, the tone forced, and I struggled to stay engaged with the story or its characters.

While I appreciated the ambition and had no issues with the intense content or trigger-heavy themes, the narrative just didn’t flow naturally. It felt more like chaos for chaos’ sake rather than a gripping descent into madness. I wanted to love this book, but it left me feeling more detached than disturbed.

If you’re new to splatterpunk and want something extreme with a unique premise, it might be worth checking out. But seasoned horror readers may find it lacking the depth and cohesion that make extreme horror so impactful.

Absolutely loved this concept as its a body horror concept and those are some of my favorite stories. I loved the writing and character building and the chaos that ensues between Jennifer and The divine flesh. I definitely recommend this to fans of body transformation and horror in general.