I have two brothers and I also hate when they force me to live forever, join a cult, and be a cannibal

Masters of Death is literary magic. It feels like the kind of book that you had to read for class but halfway through it became the book that changed your life. The plot takes its time and relies heavily on the theatrical cast and poetic and humorous prose, but aside from a lull around the 40-60% mark which is spent setting up character relationships and bringing together subplots, the pacing moves steadily.

Olivie Blake's skill as a writer is on full display in this novel for the reasons above, but to me it was especially distinct when the moral of the story was pulled together at the end. I often criticize books for their preachy endings when the rest of the story didn't support such lofty philosophizing, but this book was the exact opposite. OB excellently brings together the stories of each character up to the moment the questions are presented such that it just feels right that the character asks and in so doing, the reader naturally follows. The philosophical point of the book isn't new or unique, but OB's presentation of it is nothing short of breathtaking.

The primary reason this falls short of 5 stars for me is that middle-of-the-book lull. I think there were ways to maintain the reader's interest better as the number of flashbacks and lack of location changes in the present felt a little tedious. Nonetheless, I felt that the last 25% more than made up for the middle 20% and I have no regrets for reading this book.

If you like literary fantasy with punchy philosophy and heart-wrenching character arcs, you will love this novel.

Masters of Death is one of those books that reminds you why you love stories in the first place. It’s weird and wonderful and full of heart. The cast of supernatural characters is vivid and unforgettable, and the dialogue absolutely sparkles with wit and depth. The story flows across time and dimensions, weaving multiple perspectives into a kind of tapestry that’s intricate, surprising, and so utterly satisfying. Blake’s writing is sharp, elegant, and full of those “oh wow” moments that really make you pause and soak it all in.

But at its heart, this book isn’t about vampires, demons, or even Death, it’s about what it truly means to live. The immortal characters play their “game” as a reflection of human nature, full of love, loss, betrayal, and connection. It’s a meditation on life and love, on choices and consequences, all told through characters who feel so achingly real and romances that break and mend your heart in equal measure.

This is story isn't linear and is definitely not spoon-fed to you, it’s layered, interwoven, and poetic, and demands your attention, but it's rewarding. Every sentence carries weight, every twist resonates, and by the end, you feel both crushed and uplifted. It’s heartbreaking, hilarious, thought-provoking, and luminous. It's a story that reminds you of meaning, connection, and all of the fleeting emotions that come with being human and what you're willing to do to feel alive.

I’m in sheer awe after finishing this and I don’t even know what to do with myself, this brought me so many emotions and it engaged my brain in a way that kept me so invested through every single thing that happened.

This book makes you look at the story in a way that you’re always trying to guess what is happening and constantly making up new theories, connecting the characters’ actions to what is happening around them, picking up previous moments and connecting them to the present, and I just love how gripping the book is. Sure, you may have an idea of what is happening and have some theories in mind, but the story will always surprise you in a way, either with what is revealed or with the way it is revealed.

The pull that Evander and Laurie have towards each other is so compulsive and obsessive that it fits so well with the horror side of the story. These characters live and breathe the love they have for each other like the only way they can save themselves is by merging themselves together, with nothing else mattering. It’s not a sweet or kind love story but it is equally addictive.

The way this book encapsulates the horror genre was probably one of my favorite things while reading it. This is evident in the descriptions of the garden and the way it interacted with the characters, the gore being explicit enough that it makes you uncomfortable and even recoil at some parts and the way the some characters would act towards each other. A truly perfect queer horror story.

I can’t talk about a C.G. Drews’ book without talking about their writing. It’s so beautifully done from the detailed descriptions of the botanic elements and the horror aspect of the story, the way the characters would describe their feelings almost in a poetic way, there were so many quotes that I would read and I would have to just sit with it for a while because of how impactful they were (I may or may not have cried a little with how emotional some quotes made me).

I couldn’t help but compare this book to Don’t Let the Forest In, by the same author, because of how similar they are in themes and overall vibes, even if each book is unique in its own way, and if you liked one you'll most likely like the other.