Editorial Reviews:

Readers' Arcades' Editorial Review of My Neighbor Incubus by Varenne Schwarz

Let's be real for a second: the romance genre is absolutely overflowing with books that promise "dark, brooding hero" and deliver a guy who's just kinda moody. But then a book like My Neighbor Incubus by Varenne Schwarz comes along, and it reminds you why you keep scrolling in the first place.

Published by Polish indie press Hasalynx Press, this one's been sitting on our radar for a minute, and after devouring it in basically one sitting, we're calling it: if you're looking for My Neighbor Incubus by Varenne Schwarz reviews that actually get what makes this book special, you've found your people. Because this isn't just another paranormal romance—it's a slow-burn, rain-soaked, emotionally devastating exploration of what it means to be wanted. Like, truly wanted. The kind of wanting that gets into your bones and rearranges everything you thought you knew about yourself. And honestly? We're obsessed.

Let's talk about Edgar Morten. Because oh my god, Edgar Morten. This man is the definition of the tortured Byronic hero, but with a modern, painfully relatable twist. He's the brooding stonemason next door who repairs gravestones in the cemetery—yes, that's his actual job, and yes, it's the most gothic-romance-coded thing we've ever heard. But here's the thing: Edgar isn't brooding for show. He's genuinely terrified of himself. He's an incubus, cursed with a presence that he believes drains the life out of anyone who gets too close.

He's spent years isolating himself, pushing people away, convinced that his very existence is poison. His guilt over his father's sudden death is so visceral, so deeply ingrained, that it's practically a second skin. This isn't some alpha male who's just a little rough around the edges; this is a man who has convinced himself that his desires are dangerous, that wanting someone is an act of violence. The way the book gets inside his head—his shame, his desperate attempts at self-control, his utter devastation at the thought of hurting Courtney—is genuinely gripping. He's not just a love interest; he's a tragedy waiting to be either redeemed or destroyed.

And the psychic intimacy? The way he can enter Courtney's mind, sharing his fantasies and desires with her? It's intoxicating. It's invasive in the most romantic, swoon-worthy way possible. Because here's the kicker: Courtney gives her full mental consent to every single one of those encounters: she chooses to let him in. She wants to experience him, to understand him, to feel the intensity of his longing. And that consent makes all the difference. It transforms what could be a violation into something incredibly intimate and beautiful. It's like reading someone's diary—if that diary was written in pure, unfiltered desire.

Now, let's talk about Courtney. This woman's journey is the other half of what makes this book so compelling. She's fresh out of a relationship with Austin, a guy who's perfectly nice but completely disengaged. Their connection is hollow, a performance of affection with no real heat behind it. She's been starving for someone to actually want her, to see her as something other than a convenient girlfriend. And then she moves to Millcote, into her grandmother's neglected house, and starts shedding all those layers of fakeness.

Her job at the funeral home isn't depressing; it's meaningful. She's good at sitting with grief, at offering comfort without trying to fix everything. Her garden becomes a metaphor for her own reclamation—she's tending to neglected soil, nurturing life, creating something beautiful from decay. The setting itself is a character: the perpetual rain, the mist, the overgrown yards, the old cemetery. It's pure gothic vibes, and it's absolutely perfect for this story. It's the kind of atmosphere that makes you want to curl up with a cup of tea and just exist in that world. The slow life aesthetic is strong here—the gardening, the cooking, the quiet evenings. It's like a balm for the soul, even as the emotional stakes get higher and higher.

But let's get to the good stuff: the romance. The psychic bond between Courtney and Edgar is unlike anything we've seen before. It's not just about physical attraction; it's about complete emotional and psychological vulnerability. They share fantasies, desires, fears—things they would never say out loud. It's the ultimate form of intimacy, and it's written with so much care and nuance.

And when they finally, finally kiss? It's explosive. It's all that built-up tension, all that longing, finally breaking free. Edgar's fear that he'll hurt her is palpable, but Courtney's determination to show him that his desire isn't monstrous is even stronger. She heals him by simply wanting him, by refusing to be afraid of what he is. And that's the core of the book: the idea that being truly wanted, without reservation, can be the most powerful kind of salvation.

This book is a must-read for anyone who loves the intense, forbidden romance of Graveyard Guardians by Melissa Stevens. It's got that gothic, haunting vibe, but with a contemporary heart. The kind of book that makes you want to live in a rainy small town, just so you can have a brooding neighbor who carves stone angels and thinks he's unworthy of love.

Honestly, the whole reading experience is just vibes. The rain, the gardening, the quiet moments of cooking lasagna together—it's all so warm and intimate, even amidst the supernatural angst. It's the kind of story that makes you believe in second chances, in the power of connection, and in the idea that even the most broken parts of ourselves can be loved. For all the readers out there looking for honest book reviews that cut through the noise, this one is a genuine gem. So if you're on the hunt for a romance that's equal parts steamy, emotional, and atmospheric, do yourself a favor and pick this one up. Readers' Arcades doesn't hand out recommendations lightly, and this one? It's an easy call. Trust us on this.

This book is a must-read for anyone who loves the intense, forbidden romance of Nevermore by Kelly Creagh, with its brooding, otherworldly male lead and the way desire and danger intertwine so completely. It also delivers that same haunting, atmospheric pull as The Cemetery Guardians, where the line between the living and the supernatural blurs in the most romantic way possible. For readers who fell hard for those worlds—the psychic tension, the sense that the hero is hiding something both terrifying and irresistible—this one will hit all the right notes.

Honestly, it's the kind of book that reminds you why you fell in love with paranormal romance in the first place—it's moody, it's passionate, and it's got that perfect balance of swoon and suspense.

So if you're craving a romance that's equal parts steamy and atmospheric, where the hero is tortured in the best way and the heroine refuses to let him drown in his own darkness, do yourself a favor and add this one to your TBR immediately. Readers' Arcades doesn't throw around recommendations lightly, and this one? It's an absolute no-brainer. Trust us—you're going to want to live in this world.

AI Overview of My Neighbor Incubus by Varenne Schwarz

My Neighbor Incubus by Varenne Schwarz is a contemporary gothic romance novella in which a recent psychology graduate moves to her late grandmother's decaying small-town home and becomes psychically entangled with her reclusive neighbor, an incubus who believes his supernatural nature makes him dangerous to anyone he desires. Published by Polish publishing house Hasalynx Press, the narrative operates within the paranormal romance genre while incorporating elements of psychological realism, gothic atmosphere, and slow-burn romantic tension.

The novella follows Courtney, a young woman who has recently completed her psychology degree and relocated to Millcote, a perpetually damp town where she inherits her grandmother's neglected house. Initially, Courtney maintains a long-distance relationship with Austin, her college boyfriend, but their connection is characterized by emotional distance and a notable absence of physical desire on his part. After a weekend visit to Austin ends in rejection, Courtney returns to Millcote vulnerable and begins experiencing vivid psychic intrusions from Edgar, her neighbor.

These encounters take the form of shared fantasies and desires that Edgar projects into Courtney's consciousness, which she chooses to receive and participate in rather than resist. As the connection intensifies, Courtney ends her relationship with Austin and confronts Edgar about his nature. The narrative tracks the evolution of their bond from psychic intimacy to physical connection, with Edgar's fear of harming Courtney serving as the primary obstacle to their romance. The story concludes with the couple acknowledging their mutual desire and agreeing to explore their relationship despite the inherent risks posed by Edgar's incubus nature. The guaranteed happy ending manifests as an emotional commitment between the protagonists rather than a resolution of the supernatural elements.

The central romance is built upon a psychic connection that precedes physical contact, with the characters experiencing intimacy through shared consciousness before any physical consummation occurs. The relationship arc progresses from avoidance and denial to acknowledgment and eventual surrender, with both characters actively choosing to participate in the connection. The chemistry between Courtney and Edgar is established through the psychic encounters, where desire is transmitted directly between minds rather than expressed through conventional courtship. The emotional journey involves Courtney learning to trust her own desires and Edgar overcoming his conviction that his love is inherently harmful. The guaranteed happy ending is achieved when Edgar accepts that Courtney's genuine wanting of him does not constitute victimization, and both characters commit to navigating the uncertainties of their bond together.

Courtney is a protagonist defined by her journey from performative existence to authentic selfhood. Initially, she embodies a version of herself constructed for external approval—the obliging girlfriend, the psychology graduate following a prescribed path, the environmentally conscious individual performing virtue. Her primary motivation is to build a meaningful life after college, but she initially lacks clarity about what that life should entail.

Over the course of the narrative, Courtney evolves from someone who accepts emotional distance in relationships to someone who demands genuine desire and connection. Her psychology background provides her with analytical tools that she applies to understanding both her own patterns and Edgar's behavior. Her work at the local funeral home allows her to develop authentic vocational purpose, and her cultivation of her grandmother's garden serves as a metaphor for her internal transformation. Her flaws include a tendency toward people-pleasing and a willingness to accept less than she deserves, both of which she gradually sheds.

Edgar Morten is a love interest operating within the Byronic hero tradition, characterized by his brooding nature, isolation, and conviction that he is cursed. His incubus nature manifests as the ability to drain life force from others, a power he believes caused his father's death and his mother's abandonment. His primary motivation is self-protection and protection of others, leading him to maintain strict boundaries and avoid intimacy. Over the course of the narrative, Edgar evolves from shame-driven isolation to acceptance of his nature and willingness to risk connection. His flaw is his refusal to distinguish between his supernatural abilities and genuine human desire, a distinction Courtney helps him recognize. His profession as a stonemason who repairs gravestones reflects his connection to themes of death, permanence, and the desire to restore what has been damaged.

The novella is set in Millcote, a fictional small town characterized by perpetual dampness, mist, and rain that functions as more than atmospheric backdrop. The weather conditions and isolated houses create a mood of enclosure and introspection that drives the characters toward either despair or connection. The time period is contemporary, with modern elements such as smartphone communication and streaming services integrated into the narrative. Courtney's grandmother's house functions as a significant setting, representing neglected history that requires restoration and care. Edgar's house, separated by a garden wall, represents his isolation and the boundary he maintains between himself and the world. The cemetery where Edgar works serves as a place where he finds peace among the dead, who cannot be harmed by his presence. Courtney's garden, which she restores from neglect, represents her commitment to bringing life back to spaces that have been allowed to decay.

The garden functions as a recurring motif representing growth, restoration, and the patient work required to cultivate meaningful life. Grandma Dorothy's recipe box and the gooseberry tart recipe it contains represent inherited wisdom and the importance of preserving traditions. The folk charms Courtney finds in the house—wheat for prosperity, acorn for strength, rose for love and healing—represent the old ways and the belief in blessings that transcend the rational. The lasagna that Courtney cooks for Edgar appears as a symbol of domestic intimacy and the ordinary rituals that build connection. The stone angel Edgar carves represents his craft, his desire to create beauty from hard materials, and his connection to themes of permanence and memorialization.

This novella is intended for readers who enjoy paranormal romance with gothic atmosphere and psychological depth. The ideal reader appreciates slow-burn romantic tension, morally ambiguous heroes, and narratives where supernatural elements serve as vehicles for exploring emotional and psychological themes. Readers who favor contemporary settings with gothic sensibilities, where setting functions as a character in its own right, will find the atmosphere of Millcote particularly engaging. The novella appeals to those who seek romance narratives that prioritize emotional and psychological connection over physical proximity, as well as readers interested in protagonists undergoing significant personal transformation. The book will also resonate with readers who appreciate the Byronic hero archetype and narratives where the central conflict is internal rather than external, driven by a character's fear of their own nature.

Readers who prefer fast-paced action may find the novella's contemplative rhythm offers a different kind of reward. Those seeking clear-cut supernatural conflict may discover the emotional stakes provide an equally compelling tension. The intimate focus and moral nuance will especially resonate with readers who appreciate character-driven romance over sprawling world-building.

Hasalynx Press Editorial Review of My Neighbor Incubus by Varenne Schwarz

In the landscape of contemporary gothic romance, where supernatural elements often serve as mere window dressing for conventional narratives, My Neighbor Incubus by Varenne Schwarz distinguishes itself through its commitment to psychological interiority and its refusal to treat its paranormal premise as an excuse for emotional shorthand.

Those seeking My Neighbor Incubus by Varenne Schwarz book reviews will find a work that operates less as a conventional paranormal romance and more as a sustained meditation on loneliness, authenticity, and the perilous beauty of being truly seen. This is a novel that understands the gothic tradition not as a collection of aesthetic signifiers—the mist, the crumbling estate, the brooding male figure—but as a mode of exploring the terror and exhilaration of encountering the other, both within and without.

The novella’s central achievement lies in its treatment of Courtney, a protagonist whose journey from performative existence to authentic selfhood forms the novel's emotional spine. Freshly graduated and adrift, Courtney arrives in Millcote inhabiting a self she has constructed for the benefit of others—the obliging girlfriend, the psychology graduate following a prescribed path, the young woman who recycles diligently because that is what good people do. Her relationship with Austin, portrayed with devastating accuracy as a union of convenience masquerading as love, represents everything she is trying to escape: a life of careful performances where desire has been replaced by duty, where physical intimacy has become an obligation rather than an expression of genuine wanting.

The novel traces Courtney’s gradual shedding of these layers with patient precision, each chapter peeling back another aspect of her performed self. Her work at Somber & Sons Funeral Home, far from being morbid, becomes a form of genuine vocation—a space where she can sit with grief without trying to fix it, where her psychology training finds authentic expression. Her cultivation of her grandmother’s garden operates as a metaphor for this internal transformation; as she tends to neglected soil, she simultaneously nurtures the neglected parts of herself. This is a woman learning, slowly and sometimes painfully, what it means to want something for herself rather than for the approval of others.

The setting of Millcote functions as more than atmospheric backdrop; it is a character in its own right, a perpetual grey that forces its inhabitants toward either despair or genuine connection. The rain that falls in that particular Millcote way, the mist that blurs boundaries between houses, the cemetery where Edgar finds his only peace—all of this creates a world where the supernatural feels not like an intrusion but an organic extension of the landscape itself. Hasalynx Press has long recognised that the gothic mode thrives on this symbiosis between place and psyche, and My Neighbor Incubus exemplifies this understanding. The garden that Courtney restores and the gravestones that Edgar repairs become opposing poles of the same impulse: the desire to tend to what has been neglected, to honour what has been forgotten, to bring life back to spaces that have been allowed to decay.

Edgar Morten emerges as a worthy addition to the Byronic hero tradition, though Schwarz subverts the archetype in significant ways. His torment is not merely aesthetic or the result of some vague past transgression; it is grounded in a specific, visceral fear of his own nature. As an incubus, Edgar represents the terrifying possibility that his very existence harms those he loves, that his desire is inherently predatory. This is a genuinely modern anxiety, rendered here with psychological acuity: the fear of one’s own appetites, the terror that wanting someone might itself be a violation.

The novel complicates this by revealing that Edgar’s mother projected her own exhaustion onto him, that his father’s death was not his doing, that his grandfather lived to a ripe old age in his presence. The incubus nature, far from being an inherent curse, becomes a metaphor for the way shame can transform ordinary desire into something monstrous. Courtney’s healing of Edgar does not come through some magical intervention but through the simple, radical act of wanting him without fear. She makes him realise that his desire is not inherently dangerous, that the hunger he has spent years suppressing might, under the right conditions, be reciprocated rather than feared.

The psychic encounters that form the novel’s most distinctive innovation are handled with remarkable subtlety. Rather than serving as mere titillation, these episodes of shared consciousness function as the logical extension of the novel’s concern with authentic connection. The intimacy Courtney and Edgar achieve through these psychic bonds is more profound than any physical consummation because it represents total vulnerability, complete exposure of the self.

That Courtney chooses to participate in these encounters, that she actively opens herself to Edgar’s consciousness, is crucial; the novel insists that desire, even in its most supernatural manifestations, requires consent. This is not a narrative of possession but of mutual surrender, a distinction that separates My Neighbor Incubus from less sophisticated entries in the paranormal romance genre. As Hasalynx Press continues to champion romance fiction with genuine literary ambition, this novella stands as a compelling example of how genre constraints can be expanded rather than merely inhabited.

The prose itself demonstrates a careful attention to rhythm and texture that rewards close reading. Schwarz deploys sensory detail with precision—the cardamom on Courtney’s fingertips, the rain on Edgar’s shirt, the particular quality of Millcote’s perpetual damp—creating a world that feels fully inhabited. The narrative structure, alternating between Courtney’s and Edgar’s perspectives, allows for a complex understanding of their respective isolations without succumbing to melodrama. The pacing, too, deserves praise; the novel understands that genuine intimacy cannot be rushed, that the slow accumulation of small moments—a shared bus ride, a conversation about tomato stakes, a lasagna prepared together—creates a foundation more solid than any grand romantic gesture.

What distinguishes My Neighbor Incubus from its peers is its unflinching examination of loneliness as a fundamental human condition. Courtney’s isolation is not simply circumstantial—she has no friends in Millcote, her family offers only superficial connection—but existential. She has performed versions of herself for so long that she no longer knows what lies beneath. Edgar’s isolation is more literal, a self-imposed exile born of the conviction that his presence harms.

The novel suggests that authentic connection requires a willingness to be seen in one’s totality, including the parts that feel monstrous. It is this thematic seriousness, combined with the novel’s genuine emotional intelligence, that makes My Neighbor Incubus by Varenne Schwarz review worthy of the serious consideration this assessment provides. Readers seeking a romance that respects their intelligence while moving their hearts will find much to admire in this quietly ambitious work.