Book Review: Dead & Breakfast by Kat Hillis and Rosiee Thor
Sometimes, the universe speaks directly to our souls, doesn’t it? Recently, I found myself craving something lighter, a gentle escape from the intensity of life lately. Enter Dead & Breakfast by Kat Hillis and Rosiee Thor—exactly what I didn’t realize I was starving for. This delightful blend of whimsy and warmth is a breath of fresh, moonlit air, perfect for the horror lover seeking a softer touch.
At its core, Dead & Breakfast invites readers into the hilariously charming world of Arthur and Sal, a married vampire couple who run a quaint bed and breakfast in a town that isn’t exactly open arms to the paranormal crowd. These two are not your typical bloodthirsty fiends; they are relatable, slathering on sunscreen and indulging in garlic scones—after which Sal suffers from all-too-familiar food allergies. It’s this humor and relatability that voices all the fun in the novel.
The idyllic setup quickly morphs into a cozy mystery when the town mayor is found dead in the couple’s begonias, complete with two mysterious puncture wounds. Suddenly, Arthur and Sal are thrust into a whirlwind of eccentric allies: a quirky werewolf barista named Theo, an elven coroner, and a rather pragmatic city manager. The dynamic between these characters is delightful, rich with playful banter and heartfelt moments that kept me turning the pages with a grin.
What I particularly loved about Hillis and Thor’s storytelling is how they seamlessly blend diverse paranormal beings into the narrative. Each character—from the enigmatic Lore, the elven coroner, to Brody, the misunderstood graffiti artist—hints at a larger commentary on identity and acceptance. The authors deftly use the metaphor of “monsters,” inviting readers to reflect on the real-life struggles faced by those who don’t fit the norm, including LGBTQ+ individuals and dreamers who fear judgment. They remind us that what society often fears can be true beauty, kindness, and artistry.
The tone of the book strikes that perfect balance between cozy humor and deeper meaning. It’s filled with corny puns and delightful moments, yet it bravely addresses themes of belonging and acceptance. It resonated with me deeply, reminding me that in a world of thorns, seeking out gentle touches can be profoundly healing.
In conclusion, Dead & Breakfast is a joyous romp that invites anyone who enjoys cozy mysteries, whimsical humor, or heartfelt tales of acceptance to join Arthur and Sal on their adventure. I wholeheartedly give this gem five stars—it’s as deserving as a perfectly baked scone at a vampire-run B&B. So grab a cozy blanket, settle in with a cup of something warm, and let this story remind you of the beauty that dwells within our differences. Trust me; your soul will thank you.
(Thank you, Berkeley, for gifting me a copy of this warm-hearted novel!)