Synopsis:
When a powerful magical artifact disappears from the Tanner home, Bree uncovers her family’s true legacy: they’re descendants of witches who fled a dying world centuries ago. Now, Bree must forge an uneasy alliance with Sam Sorken, her mysterious neighbor who harbors secrets of his own—he’s a necromancer from that same world, sworn to protect the coven.
Together, they race against time to stop Kestral Drach, a vengeful voodoo witch preparing to breach the Realm of the Dead and consume the power of countless spirits. As ancient histories collide with present dangers, Bree must embrace her heritage and master unexpected magic that binds her family across generations, before Kestral unleashes forces that could destroy both worlds.
Favorite Lines:
“The timing of destiny is rarely convenient”
“Balance has never been particularly difficult to disrupt.”
“Different paths sometimes lead to the same destination, my boy.”
My Opinion:
I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.
At first glance The Coven of Andromeda looks like two different novels stitched together: a high-fantasy apprenticeship set beneath lavender skies on Eldoria, and a contemporary tale of bayou folk-magic unfolding in rural Louisiana. The stitching, however, is deliberate. As dimensional rifts widen, necropolis spirits seep into southern swampland, and the narrative threads converge with satisfying inevitability.
Blacksmith frames the entire story around one idea—that so-called “life-magic” and “death-magic” are complementary halves of the same discipline . Sameril, a meticulous student of necromancy, and Bree Tanner, a reluctant heir to her grandmother’s coven, spend much of the book wrestling with that paradox. Their eventual alliance is persuasive because both characters must confront inherited duty: Sameril through the austere Codex Mortis , Bree through a family legacy that offers “truths we must face” rather than evade .
Structurally, the novel alternates measured training chapters with brisk set-piece battles; the rhythm reminds me of a well-paced anime season. The climax is undeniably crowded—multiple factions, a power-hungry voodoo queen, and a spirit of chaos invoked in a single ritual—but the ambition rarely tips into confusion. When the rifts finally erupt, Blacksmith delivers the promised spectacle without abandoning the quieter question of what balance between worlds should look like.
Stylistically, the writing alternates between lyrical description and colloquial banter. A paragraph detailing obsidian pillars flickering with ghost-light may be followed by a dry aside about who is responsible for bringing refreshments to the next ritual. This tonal flexibility works because the characters themselves embrace both gravity and levity; a sisterly bond forged late in the novel underscores that the real stakes are personal before they are cosmic .
Summary:
Overall, I would describe this as A Darker Share of Magic colliding with Practical Magic at a Cajun cookout. Readers who enjoy expansive fantasy with contemporary texture will find The Coven of Andromeda an engaging—and occasionally demanding—journey. Its length requires patience, but the reward is a robust exploration of power, responsibility, and the fragile equilibrium between the realms of the living and the dead. Happy reading!
Check out Coven of Andromeda here!