Review: Dawn in Ruins by Magda Mizzi

Synopsis:

The world ended in silence. The fight for what’s left will not.

Ten months after the collapse, teenager Annie’s world has shattered, and with it, everything she once believed about monsters. They don’t always lurk in shadows. Sometimes they wear uniforms. Sometimes they wear the faces of those you love.

In the ruins of Sydney, Annie finds an unlikely ally in Jude—a half-infected boy marked by virus and twisted science. His strange, dangerous abilities make him both a threat and their best hope. But the line between abomination and saviour is thinner than either imagined.

Haunted by what was done to him, Jude carries scars deeper than flesh. Meanwhile, Annie’s younger brother, Lucas, remains a prisoner, infected and altered. If she doesn’t reach him soon, Lucas will face the same fate that nearly destroyed Jude—experiments that don’t just scar flesh but twist what it means to be human.

As secrets unravel and the origin of the virus comes to light, Jude learns a devastating truth: his connection to the outbreak is deeper, darker, and far more personal than he ever imagined.

Together, Annie and Jude race through a city where every shadow hides a threat. When they are torn apart, survival becomes more than a mission—it becomes a promise: to endure, to protect, and to bring each other back from whatever hell awaits.

From the shattered edges of the Fractured Reality universe comes a story of desperate hope and fierce loyalty—because in a world this ruined, some things are lost forever. But some are worth risking everything to save.

Favorite Lines:

“Before the world cracked, Annie believed monsters lived in stories. Now she knew better. They had names. Faces. Uniforms. Sometimes they looked like strangers with guns. Sometimes they looked like people you loved. Sometimes they were the ones you’d sworn to protect, until you couldn’t.”

“Maybe…but love is stubborn, isn’t it? It makes you brave, and foolish. I mean she was pretty determined to  have Othello —to keep him. She went against her father to be with him. That would have been pretty hard in those times. Shit, it’s still hard now. So, I guess she’s committed.”

“And they kept walking. Not towards certainty. But towards something. And, for now, that was enough.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Dawn in Ruins had me hooked from the first page. It’s dark, visceral, and unflinchingly human. Magda Mizzi takes a familiar apocalypse — a mutated virus, collapsing cities, soldiers with cold eyes — and turns it into something deeply personal. The story follows Annie, a teenage girl fighting to save her brother Lucas after the world has already burned, and Jude, a half-infected boy whose body is as much a mystery as his loyalty. From the first pages, the writing drags you into the heat, the grit, and the smell of a dying city. Every sentence feels alive and dangerous.

What I loved most is that this isn’t just another survival story. It’s about guilt and grief and that stubborn will to keep moving when everything is already broken. Annie isn’t your typical YA heroine — she’s angry, reckless, and full of contradictions. You can feel her pulse in every scene, from the blood and dust of Sydney’s ruins to the quiet moments when she can’t decide whether to hate or trust Jude. Mizzi captures that inner push and pull perfectly, the mix of fear and defiance that defines what it means to stay human when the world no longer is.

The relationship between Annie and Jude drives the novel. It’s tense and uncomfortable at times, but that’s what makes it work. Jude isn’t romanticized; he’s unsettling, strange, and sometimes frightening. Yet there’s a tenderness under the surface — a sense that both of them are clinging to whatever hope they have left. Their conversations carry the same weight as the action scenes, and the smallest touches or silences often say more than words.

There’s a cinematic quality to the writing — I would not be surprised to see this book hit the big screen in a few years. Mizzi’s Australia feels scorched and hollow, but also hauntingly beautiful. Every setting has a heartbeat, from the cracked roads to the eerie calm of the water. Dawn in Ruins is more than post-apocalyptic fiction. It’s a story about endurance, trauma, and the fragile connections that still matter when everything else has been stripped away. It leaves you raw but strangely hopeful.

Summary:

Overall, Dawn in Ruins is an emotional, post-apocalyptic survival story set in the ruins of Australia after a deadly viral mutation. Combining elements of science fiction, dystopian realism, and emotional character drama, it’s perfect for readers who love The Last of Us, Station Eleven, or The Girl With All the Gifts. It’s dark but heartfelt — a story for readers who like their survival tales human, messy, and deeply felt. Happy reading!

Check out Dawn in Ruins here!


 

Review: Solitude by Sebastian JC

Synopsis:

A young girl lives her day-to-day life in a post-apocalyptic world, confined entirely within the crumbling remains of an old church—the last refuge for a small band of survivors. She is the only child among them, and the wasteland beyond remains a mystery, known only through her daydreams and fleeting glimpses through boarded-up windows and broken towers.
Her story begins with the unexpected death of a fellow survivor—the first loss she has ever known. As grief ripples through the group, their fragile sense of safety begins to fray. Through the girl’s eyes, we see the adults around her struggle to maintain a semblance of normal life and offer her something like a true childhood, even as the dangers of the outside world press ever closer.
Solitude is a novella about found family, survival, and loss, seen through the eyes of a young girl as she tries to understand and come to terms with a world that is ultimately too big, too dangerous, and too indifferent.

Favorite Lines:

“Her world was larger up here; there was more room for possibility and imagination.”

“It was the forever part that was hard to handle. the permanence of it. The idea that someone she had known her whole life, who was always there, was gone. It was hard to think about it. Maybe this is the weight that everyone was feeling all the time. The weight of people being gone, of their lives being different forever.”

“And then she noticed it. Illuminated perfectly in the twilight, the smallest bit of green. A green that she had only seen in books and old pictures.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Sebastian JC’s Solitude follows a young girl growing up in the ruins of a church after societal collapse, where a small group of survivors struggles to endure hunger, grief, and the dangers of the outside world. Told through her observant and reflective perspective, the novel highlights the fragile dynamics of a chosen family, the cycles of daily survival, and the weight of loss.

What surprised me most about Solitude is how intimate the story feels despite its post-apocalyptic setting. It would be easy for a novel like this to lean heavily on destruction and despair, but instead, JC builds the world around one young girl’s perspective, grounding the collapse of society in the quiet moments of her everyday life. From her perch in the ruined church steeple to her careful observations of the makeshift family she lives with, the novel is less about explosions and chaos and more about survival through relationships, memory, and the fragile bonds that hold people together.

The writing style is deliberate and unhurried, mirroring the rhythms of camp life. Long passages describe the girl’s walks through ruined hallways, her habit of counting steps, or the way dust filters through stained glass. This might sound slow, but it works; the detail makes you feel like you’re inhabiting her world, and it underscores how, in a life defined by scarcity, attention to small things is survival itself. You begin to see the church and its ruins as she does: not just broken stone and wood, but a place mapped in memory, danger, and imagination.

I also appreciated how the book weaves grief into its structure. The loss of Jav early on is not a plot twist but a weight that echoes through every chapter. Each character absorbs it differently—John through silence and illness, Sandra through relentless caretaking, and the girl through restless wandering and reflection. JC shows how in survival, grief is never private; it seeps into the entire group, shaping decisions, tensions, and fleeting moments of tenderness.

At times, the book risks feeling repetitive—another patrol, another climb, another whispered conversation in the ruins—but I came to see that repetition as intentional. The girl’s world is claustrophobic, defined by cycles of watchfulness and waiting. That narrow focus made the rare bursts of danger or connection stand out all the more. By the end, what lingered with me wasn’t the bleakness of the world outside but the fragile hope inside: the idea that even in ruin, meaning is built in relationships, in ritual, and in holding onto stories of who we are.

Summary:

Overall, Solitude blends post-apocalyptic tension with quiet, detailed storytelling. It becomes less about destruction and more about memory, resilience, and the search for belonging in a fractured world. If you like post-apocalyptical sci-fi and coming-of age stories, then this book could be for you. Happy reading!

Check out Solitude here!