
Member Reviews

Mayra was a dreamlike, mysterious book that kept me curious through to the end. Very quickly, the reader gets a sense that something is not quite right early on, but Gonzalez did a great job of showing not telling.
I did find the ending and plot a little underwhelming, but overall an unsettling and intriguing read.

This story had a lot going for it. The writing in this was phenomenal.
Looking forward to more works by Nicky Gonzalez in the future.
I will say, this read more like literary fiction than horror for me. I love both genres but felt like it didn't hit heavily enough on the "horror" side.
Thank you NetGalley for this ARC!

The publisher reached out to me and offered the opportunity to read an eARC.
I should’ve said no. I should’ve DNF’d. But, I kept reading thinking maybe it would get better. It never did.
Thank you Random House and NetGalley for the ARC.

A reunion with a toxic friend becomes a terrifying descent into Southern Gothic horror in this compelling novella.
I approached this book with curiosity and left with a newfound appreciation for the haunted house genre. Nicky masterfully crafts an atmosphere of dread, where the true horror simmers beneath the surface until the explosive climax.
Even before the overt scares begin, the psychological tension is palpable, leaving you questioning the sanity of the characters and the reality of the events unfolding within the house. The toxic dynamic between Ingrid and Mayra is disturbingly familiar, offering a sharp exploration of how such friendships can subtly manipulate and erode, ultimately revealing a darkness that's both human and supernatural. This is a must-read for anyone who enjoys their horror with a side of psychological depth and Southern charm.
Thank you NetGalley, Random House Publishing and Nicky Gonzalez for an ARC for an honest review.

When Ingrid's old friend invites her out to a remote cabin, things get a little weird.
I actually really loved this. I think the author really captured a certain type of female friendship that a lot of women can relate to on a deep level, and the way she wrote about it was just superb. So evocative. I loved the whole atmosphere. The dream like quality of the second half was very nicely done. Just enough creep to be gothic, while not being 100% horror. Very strange and creative. If this is her first book, I can't wait to see what she will do next.

Mayra is an unexpected, out of the blue reunion gone awry! Mayra is definitely one of those stories where you’re enticed trying to figure out what happens early on. This is a good read if you want something different than your traditional twisted, dark story. The intricate, almost like a one sided cat and mouse game of navigating such a deep relationship such as best friends was really interesting to me. Throughout the read I was asking myself so many questions, and prompted to keep reading to see the boundaries of friendship being pushed. It was nice that this story gave contextual background on the character’s friendship/relationships with others in their lives which I felt really helped the storyline. I also do like how Mayra is open to reader’s interpretation, which adds to that ominous sort of energy of the storyline. I also did heavily enjoy the amount of time taken to place the audience in the heart of south Florida; being a Florida native it added onto the effect of my reading experience.
The transitions between certain parts of the story could’ve been more fluid for me, but I could see how the author used that sort of choppy form of transitioning through parts to add to that effect. I also did not really enjoy the journal entries, as I felt that they were excessive and a bit tedious.
A huge thank you to Netgalley and Random House Publishing group for an ARC of Mayra expected to publish on July 22, 2025.

I went into Mayra expecting a deep southern gothic horror. What I got was slightly off center of that. Mayra weaves a tale of a turbulent and toxic adolescent friendship that is rekindled in adulthood. Ingrid is quick to come to the siren call of Mayra, traversing deep into the swamplands of Florida to disconnect with the world and reconnect with Mayra.
While I didn't feel the horror until the last quarter, Gonzalez does a phenomenal job breathing life into the setting and the characters and masterfully switching the tone from dreamlike to foreboding on a dime.
Thank you to NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

A sticky, sweltering heat. An old house that promises sanctuary. Two women who were once girls together, tangled in loneliness and desire, hurting and loving each other. These are the bones beneath the skin and flesh of Mayra, a gothic novel from debut author Nicky Gonzalez.
I was drawn in by the esca of the cover and the promise of an isolated, labyrinth house nestled in the swamps of Florida, a place I'm well familiar with. But for much of the book, the setting is secondary to the thorned relationship between Ingrid and Mayra. They met as young girls, at the peak of their insecurity and loneliness. And with one interaction, one misunderstanding, they doomed each other to a spiraling dance of unhappiness. Mayra forever playing the contrarian to catch Ingrid's approval; Ingrid forever trying to play cool for Mayra's. An unhappy mirror.
So, if you don't enjoy toxic codependent relationships, you likely won't enjoy a good part of this book, as there are large swaths of backstory that explore just that.
As for the supernatural element of gothic, this book definitely has that. Though it doesn't fully come to fruit until the last stretch. Some reviewers have called this section a "fever dream," and while that's fair, it's arguably the best part of the book. It ties together all the odd strands of the story, and it makes all the odd questions like "why are they sleeping outside so much" and "why does Ingrid's sense of direction suck so bad" make perfect sense. It's not oversight on the author's part at all, and I'm annoyed on her behalf.
Here, I'll get a little spoiler-y.
That being said, I found the book too anchored in the past. It makes *sense* why this is done, but... I really wanted to see more development between Ingrid and Mayra. Mayra is so lost, so unmoored, and Ingrid is so consumed with the idea of who Mayra was (a girl who once looked at her and assigned her value). It makes the entire book a tragedy. Mayra is described as an angler fish... but that's a hook I can't sink my teeth into. She didn't lure Ingrid to the house: it was a cry for help.
And so, the character arcs to me feel unfinished. Mayra and Ingrid still feel like stunted teenagers who've grown a little taller, might have gotten jobs and degrees, but are still very much who they once were. And in terms of Benji... what an odd can of worms. There is so much potential in him. But it feels like a missed opportunity to not crack him open and see what the house had left behind in the folds of his brain.
Is he Paul? How many women has he led to the same fate? Why did he pick Mayra? Is there any soul left?
With that said, Mayra is an excellent book with the best portrayal of codependent teenage girls I've ever seen.

For about 85% of the book, I was enthralled, super engaged, and unsettled. But then, the repetition started increasing, and I started skimming increasingly, needing to get to the big moment, the climax, where all the cards would be shown…which never actually happened. While Ingrid started to be more curious and suspicious the moment I was waiting, the satisfaction never came, and all I was left with was a myriad of questions. While I understand why the author left it that way, I'm frustrated because I read all that for what? I think even a mini epilogue to explain the outside world more and how Benji got there, and how no one raised the alarm about Ingrid's absence, would be beneficial to tie a few things up. Benji is seen doing some weird stuff that I assume, as the reader, is part of the story surrounding the house and its hold on the occupants, but it's never explained, so it ends up being just a strange scene with no weight behind it.
I surprised myself by really enjoying this book, as I didn’t think it'd be for me when I started. But the unsettling atmosphere kept me hooked, and I think the writing captured the setting and the deeply flawed relationships realistically and interestingly. Overall, while I did like the book, not having a solid or semi-solid resolution of the story brings my rating down.

Summary: A story about Ingrid and her friendship with Mayra, spanning from their teenage years to present time. Mayra invites Ingrid to a house she’s renting out in the woods, and what begins as a reconciliation to a strained relationship shapeshifts into a horror dreamscape she might not escape from.
Genre: magical realism, adult, suspense, gothic thriller with horror elements
Thank you to Netgalley for providing this digital book. I am leaving this review voluntarily.
To start, this was incredible writing. Nicky Gonzalez has a beautiful way of joining words together. I highlighted so many passages and took screenshots to remember. I was truly very impressed this was her debut novel.
From the beginning, I was hooked. I related to Ingrid in many ways, but the biggest way was her struggle with invisibility and how she felt she mattered only when she was seen by that one, particular friend. Mayra is the person to whom Ingrid measured her self-importance. Suffocated by her loneliness, she is handed gulping breaths of air by Mayra’s attention. She gives in and feels elevated for it. The way a girlhood friend is the moon in your dark night, so Mayra was to Ingrid. In later years, then, it was hard to read how their friendship become strained and distant. But in many ways, you can see why Ingrid felt bypassed the way she did. It’s never fun to feel left behind, to be the one not chosen.
In her adult years, she’s made a little life for herself and was okay with it, to an extent. And so when Mayra’s invitation to join her at a vacation-style rental house in the swamps of Florida arrives, Ingrid is tempted. Once there, what appears to be a sincere reunion turns into a vortex of anxious dread and uncertainty of just what exactly is happening.
Honestly, I am not doing this book justice with my summary. The writing is so good! It became very special to me. Like, “my mind can make monsters from smoke,” or “Could a place make me regress? A person certainly could,” or “They laughed together and all my hot blood went cold remembering how easily, moments earlier, I’d become their inside joke,” or “The entire time, I managed a low-grade seasickness, unsure of my footing in what felt like ancient memory,” or “Mayra and I had been close for a few months by then, which, in the freefall of friendship one can only experience around that age, might as well have been a lifetime,” or “Our friendship became something hard and coiled. Rusty from disuse, it shrieked under pressure it had once been able to withstand,” or “Maybe it wasn’t about being saved, I thought. Maybe it was enough to have a witness. I smiled. With Mayra on my mind, I felt the universe contract just a bit.”
God, this writing. It’s superb, choice words woven into sentences that illuminated entire thoughts for me. I loved it.
Ingrid’s oddness shines through in unique moments. “I’d been a resident in my own mind long enough to know, it wasn’t her dress but her skin, that I wanted to wear.” Her deep insecurity and vulnerability are palpable, and it’s easy to see why Mayra became so important to her as girls. Now, in the middle of a humid swamp, the awkwardness is made that much more substantial by Benji’s presence. He is Mayra’s boyfriend, the owner of the house in the swamp. I felt Ingrid’s suspicion and unease about Benji comforting, because despite the veneer of friendly and slightly aggressive hospitality, there is something off about that guy. What he says and how he says it, her observations about him were astute and legitimate. And when he ate the dust ball with the cobwebs?! I think I gasped out loud.
The story devolves into a spiral of complex eeriness. A horror creeps in with every new discovery in the house, an Alice in Wonderful effect with smaller and smaller doors and closed off spaces where a thick hush maybe hides a crowd of people holding its breath. A look within reveals an empty room, a floor made of mirrors, an orchard of orange trees. Benji’s behavior, while never outward physically threatening, grows startlingly more foreboding. There was a moment when Ingrid, in a move I think all women have experienced, was looked at by Benji for just a second too long and she “made no sudden movements.” The anxiety and fear of that moment gave me chills.
The jumps in time toward the end are fascinating, indicative of the strangeness of Ingrid’s reality. Her desperation, her intense yearning for escape, made fear clench in my gut. I did not want back in that house.
Overall, this was a parallel between Ingrid and Mayra, the past inhabitants of the house, and those whom it might still swallow up, those to come. The environment was an alive character, the insects crawling on your skin, the sweat slicking down your spine, the house’s familiar door the only thing you stumble upon no matter how far you run. I truly enjoyed the yawning horror of Ingrid’s panicking mind, her desperate attempts to remember herself, to live.
I look forward to more of this author’s work and I will read her future books.
4.75/5

Atmospheric and richly descriptive, Mayra stays true to the southern gothic tradition. While I was waiting for the horror to start, it crept up on me insidiously. Similar to Ingrid’s experience in the house, Mayra lulled me into complacency before sinking her claws into me. The final surreal trip back to reality felt a bit rushed, but isn’t that true to the story?
Thanks to NetGalley and Random House for the ARC

Weird, but good. I'm still not really sure where the ending came from. In some ways, I would've loved this if the book didn't end in that way? It was almost more sad without the weird "horror" twist of the house you can't escape but you actually can escape? Mayra not wanting to leave because she felt so lost and like she fit in nowhere made it a little creeper in some ways. Also not entirely sure if the ending was Ingrid assuming Mayra's identity? Or Ingrid trying to direct the python hunters to Mayra? A lot of questions. I feel like this was kind of an attempt to combine horror with something more, and I think it would've maybe been better if it was just the something more. There's horror enough in the flashbacks, lost friendships, Florida setting, etc.

Mayra review:
I’m not sure what I read. What is happening. WHAT IS HAPPENING. Ok this is a going to make sense soon???? I’m lost in this house with strange narratives, flashbacks, waiting for it to be a thriller, reading a diary that is supposed to be a clue? But then I also really liked it! The friendship relationship relatable and silly things teen girls did from middle school on like asking how much will you pay to see my butthole and trying to find cars unlocked to open and fart in them. The food made so well. But like the atmosphere is so smothering of a never ending house! It was artsy as hell…but like I want to discuss this with all the people who’ve read it. Because it reminds me of a film that has so many plot points missed the first time and deeper meaning. I felt like I was hallucinating reading this and also ready to be scared. I liked how it ended. Fitting. Good. Satisfying. While completely not tied up at all and more questions of wait.. what the hell?? Why? Oh!! Wait? Hmm?? Ok - that was so weird but that was so good. Can you love hate something?? I respect it. It’s a dizzying and confusing work that I’m not sorry I read. But weird AF.

So, I’m just going to come right out and say it: Mayra by Nicky Gonzalez was… a bit of a hot mess. And not in the fun, “I love a chaotic story” way, but more in the “I think I might be trapped in someone’s fever dream” way.
The premise seemed solid enough—childhood best friends reunite at a mysterious house in the Everglades, surrounded by danger, tension, and a strange sense of foreboding. But, oh boy, it quickly spirals into something that made me feel like I was reading multiple books at once. One minute it’s a dark thriller, the next it’s a weird meditation on the complexity of female friendship (but only if that friendship also involves some seriously unresolved trauma). And then, out of nowhere, the house is alive—I guess? No one really knows. Add in some weird lizard-dodging and questionable decisions, and I started to wonder if I was in a twisted version of Survivor: Everglades Edition.
The main character, Ingrid, is a bit of a puzzle, too. One second, she’s driving deep into the swamp to reconnect with Mayra, and the next, she’s acting like she’s just wandered into a house of horrors where everything is supposed to be deeply symbolic (but honestly, I was mostly confused). Mayra, her old friend who fled to the Northeast for college, is still an enigmatic mix of seductive and unpredictable, but honestly? I was mostly annoyed by her constant “I’m too cool for this world” energy. I get it, Mayra. You’re mysterious. But do we really need to spend the entire book staring into the abyss of your complicated personality?
Then there’s Benji, the boyfriend who… I’m still not sure what his purpose was, other than to throw off the balance of the two women’s already highly unstable friendship. And let’s not forget the house itself, which definitely had a personality of its own (a very weird, almost claustrophobic personality), but after a while, I found myself wishing the house would just get to the point.
Overall, Mayra feels like a story that was trying to be a gothic masterpiece but got caught up in its own confusion. The plot is all over the place, the pacing is erratic, and the sense of danger is more “please tell me this makes sense soon” than “I’m on the edge of my seat!” It’s got all the right elements—friendship, secrets, dark atmosphere—but it just never fully pulls them together in a way that feels satisfying. It’s like a Gothic Pinterest board that went a little too hard on the wannabe spooky.
In conclusion, this book is a wild ride that might appeal to some readers, but for me, it was more like being trapped in a house with too many rooms and not enough clues. Do I want a reunion with Mayra? No, thank you. I’d rather stay in the swamp. At least I’d know what to expect there.
I gave this 2.5 stars rounded up to 3 for the setting. That was probably the best part of the book.
Special thanks for NetGalley and the publisher, Random House, for sharing this eARC with me in exchange for an honest review. Though this book wasn't for me, I'd try more from this author in the future.

Super intriguing premise, loved the atmosphere and mystery and general weirdness of this. Was disappoint by the ending- definitely wanted more after all that buildup.

“Mayra” is a beautifully written, quirky novel that seems to promise gothic horror – but fails to deliver. Instead of the horror and thrills I was expecting, I instead got toxic friendship overload with a “haunted house” thrown in as an afterthought. If that wasn’t enough to damper it, the last 15% was an utter fever dream??
The story follows Ingrid, who, after receiving an odd call from her childhood best friend, Mayra, decides to take a vacation and visit for the weekend. Mayra has mostly been absent from Ingrid's life for better than a decade. Ingrid longs for the return and reconnection of their odd and intense friendship but is wholly disappointed to find out that Mayra’s boyfriend, Benji is the owner of the house. However, Benji is an excellent cook and host, leaving Mayra and Ingrid to explore the seemingly endless halls of the house. But what’s truly hidden beneath all the beauty of this house?
“For years, Mayra floated on the surface of my mind until, waterlogged, she finally sank to the bottom. Here she was again, risen from the deep, all smile and bite.”
Put simply, this was written beautifully. Gonzalez can make even the most mundane comments come to life on the page, and keep you hooked on reading more.
However, it truly falls apart regarding the horror and thriller aspect. What’s then delivered is a back and forth of the following:
Back to the present, where Ingrid is equally upset and follows Mayra like a puppy. Flashback time to how rude Mayra was. Back to the present. Lets SLEEP OUTSIDE TOGETHER?? Back to the past.
This was just such an… odd book. The shifts in time and constant back and forth was jarring, and didn’t add much depth save for the fact of elaborating what we already know – Mayra SUCKS.
The inclusion of Lizzie’s journal, found by Ingrid was obviously intended to add meaning and give a hint to the twist. However, it was a very slow read through these parts. I personally feel that Lizzie’s notebook was unnecessary.
Also, the extreme focus on the toxic friendship was quite off-putting. This was marketed as a gothic horror/thriller, but instead felt more like obsession on Ingrid’s end that just felt unhealthy versus haunting.
“After vying for her attention so long, feeling triumphant if I landed one joke all day, her laughter was a drug in itself.”
Like, that’s kind of obsessive.
Either way, while I didn’t care much for the plot, I absolutely and utterly adored Gonzalez’s writing. It was stunning, lyrical and dreamy. I’d be willing to read whatever she writes next SOLELY for her writing prowess. Overall, it was an amazing read, but heavily lacked in the departments it was advertised in.

This hauntingly atmospheric debut novel pulls readers deep into the swamps of Florida, where friendship, memory, and reality twist together in an intoxicating, gothic suspense. The story follows Ingrid, who reconnects with her enigmatic childhood best friend, Mayra, at a secluded house in the Everglades. But from the moment she arrives, the setting itself becomes a character—lush, eerie, and brimming with a sense of unease that only grows as old tensions resurface and the house’s mysteries unfold.
The novel masterfully builds suspense, using the swamp’s oppressive heat and lurking dangers to mirror Ingrid’s growing sense of disorientation. Mayra remains as alluring and unpredictable as ever, her new boyfriend Benji adding another layer of intrigue and tension. The trio’s interactions oscillate between nostalgia and unease, making every conversation feel like a veiled power struggle. The house, much like the swamp surrounding it, seems to pulse with secrets, distorting time and reality as Ingrid finds herself slipping further away from her sense of self.
What makes this book unforgettable is its exploration of the intoxicating power of youthful friendships—the kind that shape us, haunt us, and sometimes consume us. The gothic elements are woven seamlessly into the narrative, creating a slow-burning, immersive read that lingers long after the final page.
For fans of psychological thrillers with a rich, atmospheric setting and complex female relationships, this book is an absolute must-read. It’s a mesmerizing, unsettling story that will leave you questioning how well we ever truly know the people we once loved.

DNF at 15%, so no rating. I was invited to check this book out on NetGalley vs picking it out myself, but it sounded like a good fit for my taste, so I decided to try it. Gothic, toxic female relationship, atmospheric. Cool!
Reading the actual book, though, I found myself quite bored. The book just wasn’t getting started, and the writing wasn’t doing anything special for me.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC.

🫧no spoilers🫧
I wanted to read something different and the cover drew me in! I did enjoy the cover and the premise quite a bit. I will say Mayra was a little boring. I found myself wanting more descriptions of events and even though it was the perfect length I think it could’ve been used wisely. I also didn’t feel that the main character was very likeable. Giving her more personality would’ve had me more interested in the book overall.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC.
This one was a bit back and forth in the beginning with Ingrid and Myra. But it certainly got more interesting and bizarre.
I loved the remote setting in the swamps of Florida. The estranged friends meeting again. The maze of a house.
Quite the experience.