Review: The Splintered Parts by Ana Yudin

Synopsis:

Someone—or something—is trying to bury itself inside Soraya’s skin.

It started her sophomore year of college, after she slipped in the shower and hit her head. Since then, nothing has felt real. The lights flicker all at once. She hears tapping at her window, and someone outside keeps calling her name.

Desperate to understand what’s happening to her, Soraya enters a neuroscience doctoral program in the Southwestern desert. But the deeper she dives into her studies, the more the line blurs between reality and distortion.

As a rare solar eclipse approaches, Soraya races to uncover the mystery. Eclipses have a way of exposing what’s been lurking in the dark, and if Soraya gets it wrong, she may lose far more than her sanity.

Favorite Lines:

“Just because something felt real didn’t mean it was.”

“Soraya hated the ‘tell me about yourself’ question. She was supposed to toe the fine line between personable and professional. If she answered frankly with a narration of her autobiography, then she’d seem too personal and self-involved. But if she answered too professionally, she’d be deemed impersonal—and likability was important currency in the world of academics.”

“Not everyone is so sure of their passion in life like you seem to be. Some of us look and look for it, but it never comes.”

My Opinion:

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

Psychological thrillers can be difficult to pull off because they ask readers to question everything they’re seeing without making the story feel unfair. The Splintered Parts does a nice job walking that line. From the opening chapters, there’s an unsettling feeling that something isn’t quite right, and while the book introduces plenty of possible explanations along the way, it never rushes to give the reader answers. Instead, it slowly builds an atmosphere of uncertainty where every strange event leaves you wondering whether Soraya is dealing with a mental health crisis, something neurological, something supernatural, or perhaps a combination of all three. I found myself constantly second-guessing what I thought was happening, which is exactly what I want from this type of story.

Soraya is an interesting main character because so much of her internal conflict exists outside of the mystery itself. She’s a neuroscience Ph.D. student researching consciousness and near-death experiences, but she’s also someone who can’t seem to shake the feeling that she’s living a life she didn’t entirely choose. Throughout the story, the tension between pursuing a practical career and pursuing something that genuinely fulfills her becomes just as compelling as the strange events surrounding her. I also appreciated that the scientific discussions never felt like they were there simply to sound impressive. They fit naturally with Soraya’s academic interests and gave the mystery a unique angle that separates this from many other psychological thrillers.

The relationships were another highlight for me. Soraya’s friendships, her complicated relationship with her family, and especially her interactions with her younger sister all add another layer to the story. There are moments where the family dynamics feel painfully realistic, particularly when expectations, comparisons, and career choices come into play. Even when I didn’t always agree with Soraya’s perspective, I understood why she reacted the way she did, which made her feel like a believable and flawed protagonist rather than someone who was simply easy to root for.

The atmosphere is probably what stayed with me the most after I finished reading. The Arizona desert, the hiking trails, the research lab, and Soraya’s apartment all gradually become places that feel just a little off, creating an almost dreamlike sense of unease. Yudin also does a good job weaving together psychology, folklore, neuroscience, and speculative ideas without losing sight of the emotional story underneath. By the end, I found myself thinking less about the mystery itself and more about the questions the novel raises regarding identity, purpose, and the different versions of ourselves that might exist because of the choices we’ve made throughout our lives.

Summary:

Overall, The Splintered Parts is an ambitious psychological thriller that blends science, suspense, paranormal elements, and introspection into something that feels different from many books in the genre. Readers who enjoy stories that slowly unravel rather than relying on constant action will likely appreciate the pacing, and anyone interested in unreliable perceptions, consciousness, speculative science, or character-driven mysteries should find plenty to enjoy here. It’s a thoughtful story that asks readers to question not only what’s happening to the main character, but also how much our own identities are shaped by the paths we choose to follow. Happy reading!

Check out The Splintered Parts here!


 

Review: At Death’s Door by Allen Rebot

Synopsis:

One wrong turn. Seven locked doors. No way out.

When Kayla wakes up in a silent, snow-covered forest void of all life, her only sanctuary is a mysterious, pristine manor nestled among the trees. Inside, the coffee is hot and the decor is lavish, but the inhabitant is nowhere to be found. The only thing more unsettling than the silence is the hallway of doors, each etched with the image of a different beast.

At the end of the hall stands the “Gnarled Door,” a mass of intertwined roots that refuses to budge.

When Kayla finds a silver skeleton key, she inadvertently begins a descent into a series of waking nightmares. Each door she unlocks transports her into a twisted reality born from her own deepest fears: a claustrophobic dollhouse guarded by a predatory jack-in-the-box, a schoolhouse haunted by shadows of her past, and a museum where history refuses to stay dead.

As the manor begins to rot around her, Kayla realizes she isn’t just a guest; she’s a participant in a trial for her soul. To escape the “Forest of Souls” and avoid becoming a shadow herself, she must collect every key and face the truth of how she arrived at Death’s door.

In this house, your nightmares aren’t just in your head-they’re right behind the next door.

Favorite Lines:

“Trees, long since made barren by winter, stood around me like vultures waiting for their next meal to breathe their last”

“The owner of this place might be weird, but their drink-making skills are impeccable.”

“I refused to acknowledge the lantern-like eyes that watched us from behind the trees.”

My Opinion:

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

There’s a very specific kind of horror book that feels like it was written by someone who genuinely loves being scared. Not in a polished, prestige horror way where everything is symbolic and emotionally restrained, but in the “what nightmare can I throw at the reader next?” kind of way. At Death’s Door absolutely falls into that category.

This book wastes almost no time dropping you into danger. Kayla wakes up stranded in a freezing forest with no memory of how she got there, finds an isolated house in the middle of nowhere, and things immediately begin spiraling into increasingly surreal nightmare logic. What starts as eerie haunted-house horror turns into something much stranger and meaner. The dollhouse section especially is where the book really hooked me. Once the scale starts changing and Kayla ends up trapped inside the dollhouse itself, the story goes from creepy to genuinely claustrophobic.

One thing I appreciated was that the horror never really sits still. A lot of indie horror novels introduce one cool concept and stretch it thin for 250 pages. This one keeps escalating. Every room feels like its own contained nightmare with different rules and imagery. The toy room, the jack-in-the-box, the cardboard canyon, the doll family at the dinner table… it all feels very visual and cinematic. You can tell the author has a strong imagination for creature design and environmental horror. Some of the imagery honestly feels like it would translate perfectly into an indie horror game.

The jack-in-the-box scenes were probably the standout for me. There’s something deeply unsettling about the way childish things are described throughout the book. The toys don’t just become scary because they move. The descriptions linger on textures, sounds, proportions, weird smiles, and movement patterns in a way that feels intentionally uncomfortable. The scraping sound of the jester dragging its box around became one of those recurring horror details that instantly creates dread every time it comes back.

I also liked that Kayla reacts like an actual person most of the time. She panics, swears, bargains with herself, makes dumb choices, then adapts anyway. She doesn’t suddenly become hyper-competent just because the plot needs her to survive. There’s a messy, exhausted quality to her narration that helps the book feel grounded even when the story gets completely surreal.

The pacing is probably one of the book’s strongest qualities. Chapters move quickly and almost always end with either a reveal, a new threat, or a shift in environment. It makes the book very easy to binge. I kept telling myself “one more chapter” because the structure naturally pushes you forward.

The strongest thing the novel does is maintain this feeling that the world itself is hostile and wrong. Not just haunted. Wrong. The house doesn’t operate on normal logic, the toys feel malicious in an almost fairy-tale way, and the constant shifts in scale and reality make everything feel unstable. It reminded me a little of survival horror games where every new area introduces a completely different flavor of fear.

Summary:

Overall, if you like atmospheric horror with creepy objects, distorted reality, monstrous toy imagery, shifting environments, and relentless tension, there’s a good chance this will work for you. It feels like a haunted maze built by someone who grew up loving horror movies, escape rooms, creepy pasta, and nightmare-fueled video games. Happy reading!

Check out At Death’s Door here!


Oddball in 3G by Marc Berlin

Synopsis:

Robert Krieger’s life is falling apart.

He’s been fired from his job, split up with his girlfriend, and has a controlling mother he feels obligated to call twice a week. As a result, he’s developed a distressing anxiety disorder.

Robert lends money to an acquaintance across the hall in his building, a small-time drug dealer named Skids. When Skids is brutally beaten by enforcers working for an inner-city drug gang, the Dragons, he gives Robert a “package” to hold for him until he either asks for it back or dies. Determined to find a new girlfriend, while jogging one morning Robert meets the beautiful and willowy Lindsey Marriott, whom he awkwardly begins to romance. Soon afterwards, he finds himself in a bloody one-man war with the Dragons, who believe Robert possesses money Skids owes them.

Robert is soon juggling an array of anxiety-heightening issues, which together conspire to wreak havoc on his fragile sanity.

Gritty and violent, ODDBALL IN 3G is a psychological thriller that’s also surprisingly funny.

Favorite Lines:

“I have rules, and the rules say this: you’re human, act accordingly.”

“Everything, I realize, is temporary – especially life itself.”

My Opinion:

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

Oddball in 3G by Marc Berlin is a quirky, offbeat novel that delivers a refreshing dose of humor and satire while weaving in moments of genuine heart and clever commentary.  From the very first page, it was clear I was in for a delightfully unpredictable ride.

The story primarily follows Robert Krieger who immediately reminded me of a mixture between Norman Bates and Dexter Morgan but with very sarcastic and dry sense of humor which lent to the almost conversational storytelling tone throughout this book that I found I really enjoyed.

What really impressed me was Berlin’s sharp wit and keen observational humor. His writing is snappy, with dialogue that feels natural yet packed with clever quips and subtle digs at life’s absurdities. The pacing is brisk, ensuring there’s never a dull moment, and just when you think you’ve figured out where the story is headed, it throws a curveball that keeps you on your toes.

Despite the humor, Oddball in 3G isn’t just a collection of comedic sketches—it has surprising depth. Beneath the layers of absurdity are themes of friendship, loneliness, and the odd connections people form in unexpected places. The characters’ antics might be exaggerated, but their emotions and struggles feel genuine, giving the novel a balance between laughter and poignancy.

I do want to call out that it is possible that some of the more surreal elements might not appeal to readers looking for a straightforward narrative. But for those who enjoy a story that embraces the bizarre with open arms, this book is an absolute treat.

Summary:

Overall, Oddball in 3G is perfect for fans of quirky comedies and character-driven stories that don’t take themselves too seriously but still manage to say something meaningful. If you’re looking for a fun, fast-paced read that keeps you entertained while offering a fresh perspective on life’s oddities, Marc Berlin’s latest is well worth picking up. Happy reading!

Check out Oddball in 3G here!