this book shook me and cracked me open. it crawled up under my skin and inside my chest, LITERALLY MAKING ME GASP FOR AIR. i devoured this novel in one sitting, my heart pounding, my breath catching, my eyes brimming with tears—because Milktooth is not just a story my friend, it's a reckoning....

the story was about survival. about how love—real, deep, aching love can be twisted into something unrecognizable, and how the hardest thing in the world isn’t always leaving, but believing you deserve to. Sorcha’s journey from yearning to entrapment to escape is written with such raw intimacy that it physically hurt to read. Chris is the kind of abuser who thrives in the shadows, manipulating with sweetness, controlling with love—until that love turns violent. the insidious nature of queer abuse, so rarely explored in fiction, is handled with brutal honesty and heartbreaking clarity. it's the kind of story that forces you to confront the ways we rationalize harm, the lies we tell ourselves to survive.

but this isn’t just about destruction—it’s about rebuilding. how love can still be a refuge, even after it’s been used as a weapon. Sorcha’s journey to the Scottish Highlands, her tentative reconnection with Aunt Agnes, the fierce loyalty of her friends—these moments glowed with hope. the prose is stunning, lyrical yet sharp-edged, weaving together trauma and tenderness with haunting beauty. and the found family element? i sobbed. i sobbed so hard. because at the end of it all, it isn’t just about breaking free—it’s about creating something new. something stronger. something your own.

this book wrecked me in the best way. it's fearless, devastating, and darkly funny in a way that only the best stories are. if you’ve ever clawed your way out of something you thought would consume you, if you’ve ever yearned for a love that doesn’t destroy, if you’ve ever wondered whether you were strong enough to begin again—this book is for you.

well deserving of the 5 ⭐️ thank you so much @nimbuspub & Jaime Burnet for the ARC!