10-12-2026 Kerry E.B. Black Binges Books!

Continuing my appreciation for Latine Heritage Month, I’m including some more reviews of work by Latine horror writers. These reviews by no means present an exhaustive list, so please comment with your recommendations for Latine horror authors. You know I love to enrich my TBR shelves!

Goddess of Filth by V. Castro

You know that scene in Gerta Gerwig’s “Barbie” movie, the one where America Ferrera’s character monologues what it’s like to be a woman? “It’s literally impossible to be a woman…You have to be pretty, but not too pretty…” Well, that resonates.

So does Goddess of Filth by V. Castro, but in a much bloodier, more bruja way. 

Young female friends imitate the film “The Craft” by invoking something. One of them inadvertently welcomes something powerful, a fellow female, but much, much older. It sort-of possesses her, changing her retiring personality into something much bolder. She smears dark makeup across her face and spouts ancient Aztec phrases. Her worried mother calls in a priest who’s unable to help. The friends support one another, and they all learn a lot about themselves, their personal sexuality, and each other.

Though a slim volume, V. Castro stuffs it with wisdom, honesty, spice, a surprising dollop of patriarchal obsession, and more than a little gory revenge.

Jawbone by Monica Ojeda

Deviant high school girls, an abused and mentally damaged teacher, a Creepy Pasta god. . . This is Monica Ojeda’s recipe for her disturbing novel, Jawbone. Some words of caution. The subject matter is not nice. (Abuse, bullying, abduction, precocious prepubescent behaviours, self-harm, etc…) The paragraphs are long. (That might be a translation issue, though?) However,  I enjoyed the references to Moby Dick and H.P. Lovecraft, and of course the jawbone itself refers to Biblical Cain and Abel. The author handled the predictable slip into insanity from surprising sources well. Truly, this book shows the males of the species aren’t the only ones who can manipulate and inflict severe emotional harm.

A Sunny Place for Shady People by Mariana Enriquez 

A Sunny Place For Shady People by Mariana Enriquez, translated by Megan McDowell, features twelve short, speculative stories of magical realism and horror set in the author’s beloved Argentina. The collection starts with a ghost story, and the second examines the dangers of crime. Next up are creepy, melting faces and a woman of considerable girth who finds love in an unconventional way. “Night Birds” was my favorite of the group, with a “wasting” girl and the others who inhabit a house with her. There’s an aging woman in one story, a complaining ghost in another, an unforgettable refrigerator cemetery; hyenas, a foul old guy, and the notorious black-eyed children. My second favorite of the collection was the penultimate, titled “Local Artist.” The stories dip into an active and colorful imagination. 

The Possession of Alba Diaz by Isabel Canas

The Possession of Alba Diaz by Isabel Canas is a romantic, historical horror novel set in a mining town in Mexico in 1765. The titular heroine feels something wrong within herself, something seething with anger and a potential for evil. She’s engaged to a man who she doesn’t love and who can’t truly love her, but then she meets her fiance’s cousin, a mysterious alchemist with an occult past. Cinematic, sweeping, and spectacular. 

Book Review: The Hacienda also by Isabella Canas

Interested in an intriguing historical Gothic story? Well, then, The Hacienda by Isabella Canas is for you. Set in Mexico after a war for independence, a beautiful young woman ignores rumors surrounding a handsome widower and marries. She attempts to renovate his estate, but something supernatural is afoot.

Atmospheric, heart breaking, and well written, this book hits all the top notes of an excellent perfume. There are definite nods to Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, but with an interesting religious twist from an unlikely source. Richly detailed, this book possesses its own magical interpretation of the genre, and it’s one I thoroughly enjoyed.

Mayra by Nicky Gonzalez

As people, we grow, or we’re supposed to. Through life’s experiences, we might find ourselves vastly different from the person we were in high school. Nicky Gonzalez explores this dynamic through a female friendship in the novel, Mayra. This novel is described as southern Gothic, and there are elements of that in this story. The lead character receives an invitation from her estranged, titular friend to visit a house so deep in the Florida Everglades that there’s no cell reception. It’s a chance to unwind and rest, as well as reacquaint with one another. But the house, which is owned by Mayra’s boyfriend, is strange. It seems to grow and morph around them, to adapt to their needs. The boyfriend doesn’t want to “ruin their vacation,” so he does the grocery runs, keeps the car keys, and decides much, and he’s decidedly “too nice.” A discovered, older diary indicates they weren’t the house’s only guests. There’s something off, indeed, with twisting, unyielding marshes, freaky mirrors, and other potential traps. This book meanders the way the women’s days drift, with flashbacks and musing. 

This Thing Between Us by Gus Moreno

Take a possessed “Alexa,” add a deeply grieving groom, and mix in a mysterious door. As suggested by the kind-of trippy cover, This Thing Between Us by Gus Moreno invites readers to visit a different sort of novel. It’s not really divided into chapters, and the formatting is unique. Another peculiarity is the story is told in letters to the recently deceased wife. What begins as a haunted dwelling morphs into a more Lovecraftian story. The creepy happenings keep readers guessing, and boy, there’s a lot of heart break. The chills range from psychological to visceral, and our mourning hero seems unable to safely turn to anyone for comfort. This Thing Between Us possesses shades of Stephen King’s Pet Sematary, though with a polarizing conclusion I had to re-read to grasp. 

The Copper Man by Debra Castaneda

Weird, supernatural happenings occur when a copper mine is to be reopened in a small, mountain town with a tragic past in Debra Castaneda’s The Copper Man. The legend of this Copper Man began when a grieving father exacted revenge on the children of the mine execs, including the twin brother of the protagonist, Leah. Leah returns to her childhood home of Tribulation Gulch as a journalist covering the mine’s reopening. However, even before she makes it through the tight tunnel to enter the town, her visit is plagued with strange sightings and a panic attack. When the death toll rises and her own daughter and her beau’s son are threatened, Leah has to decide if the job is worth the risk - or if leaving will escape the reach of this mysterious being! Or like West Virginia’s Pt. Pleasant Moth Man, could the supernatural happenings foretell of impending disaster? This book is a part of The Dark Earth Rising series by the author which apparently explores urban legends and environmental issues. I look forward to reading the rest of the series!

Kerry E.B. Black reads widely and reviews almost all of it, because she knows how hard it is to bring visibility to good books and hard-working authors in this world glutted with media. She lives outside of the city of steel, three rivers, and zombies with her supportive husband, two of their five children (the rest have grown and flown), three cats, and a service dog. This author of two paranormal thrillers (Awakening at Equinox and Spring of Spirits), four collections of short scares (Herd of Nightmares, Carousel of Nightmares, Nightmares on Holidays, and Fairy Herds and Mythscapes), two poetry collections (Poetic Nightmares and Witches in the Air) and a pseudo-historical novella (Wolves at Bay) is a member of the HWA.

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