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A review by booksamongstfriends
Fang Fiction by Kate Stayman-London
2.0
2.5/5 All right, all right, we get it—vampires are hot. But like...what else?
This book is one of those reads that can have you giggling, kicking your feet, and enjoying the ride, but then you stop and realize: Did they just use sexual assault to push this character along? And suddenly, the charm fades, leaving a sour taste.
The premise of Fang Fiction is something many book lovers could find intriguing. Imagine discovering your favorite vampire fantasy characters are real, and then getting thrown into their world. The main character finds herself living out the exact story she’s been obsessed with, using her book knowledge to help her new vampire companions while uncovering the truth behind the novels and their many lies. It’s a fun, meta concept.
Of course, we get the broody male lead—a classic trope. He’s playful yet misunderstood, gentle yet intense, and, naturally, irresistibly drawn to the female protagonist. But here’s where the book falters for me: there’s not enough tension. For something labeled as “enemies-to-lovers,” she’s never really his enemy. Sure, she starts out seeing him as the villain from the books, but she quickly realizes he’s not, and the progression feels too easy.
And then there’s the elephant in the room: the sexual assault subplot. From early on, it’s clear the protagonist was assaulted by her company’s golden boy during a work party. While this event is hinted at and eventually confirmed, its treatment in the narrative is deeply problematic. The assault is used almost exclusively as a plot device—to explain her leaving her old life behind, to give her trauma to overcome, and, most frustratingly, to forge intimacy between her and the male lead. It feels shallow, unnecessary, and reductive.
Every mention of the assault lacks depth or nuance, and instead of being a meaningful exploration of her experience, it’s reduced to a tool for character development. This was especially frustrating because it overshadowed what could have been a highly entertaining read. The setup—vampires battling for control on an island with witches writing books about it, giving the whole thing a “Love Island” twist—is hilarious and engaging. But the mishandling of such a serious topic ultimately undercut my enjoyment and left me feeling disappointed.
This book had the potential to be a clever, modern take on vampire romance. Instead, it’s bogged down by a problematic narrative choice that just didn’t sit right with me.
This book is one of those reads that can have you giggling, kicking your feet, and enjoying the ride, but then you stop and realize: Did they just use sexual assault to push this character along? And suddenly, the charm fades, leaving a sour taste.
The premise of Fang Fiction is something many book lovers could find intriguing. Imagine discovering your favorite vampire fantasy characters are real, and then getting thrown into their world. The main character finds herself living out the exact story she’s been obsessed with, using her book knowledge to help her new vampire companions while uncovering the truth behind the novels and their many lies. It’s a fun, meta concept.
Of course, we get the broody male lead—a classic trope. He’s playful yet misunderstood, gentle yet intense, and, naturally, irresistibly drawn to the female protagonist. But here’s where the book falters for me: there’s not enough tension. For something labeled as “enemies-to-lovers,” she’s never really his enemy. Sure, she starts out seeing him as the villain from the books, but she quickly realizes he’s not, and the progression feels too easy.
And then there’s the elephant in the room: the sexual assault subplot. From early on, it’s clear the protagonist was assaulted by her company’s golden boy during a work party. While this event is hinted at and eventually confirmed, its treatment in the narrative is deeply problematic. The assault is used almost exclusively as a plot device—to explain her leaving her old life behind, to give her trauma to overcome, and, most frustratingly, to forge intimacy between her and the male lead. It feels shallow, unnecessary, and reductive.
Every mention of the assault lacks depth or nuance, and instead of being a meaningful exploration of her experience, it’s reduced to a tool for character development. This was especially frustrating because it overshadowed what could have been a highly entertaining read. The setup—vampires battling for control on an island with witches writing books about it, giving the whole thing a “Love Island” twist—is hilarious and engaging. But the mishandling of such a serious topic ultimately undercut my enjoyment and left me feeling disappointed.
This book had the potential to be a clever, modern take on vampire romance. Instead, it’s bogged down by a problematic narrative choice that just didn’t sit right with me.