I’ve been following Hache Pueyo’s career in short fiction for some time, ever since her 2019 story An Open Coffin was featured in The Dark. So, I was eager to dive into her debut novella, But Not Too Bold. The premise had a weird, creepy allure, and the cover art by Andrew Davis was hard to ignore, despite my long-standing arachnophobia (I confess, I had to remove the cover while reading). Still, the story’s intrigue was too strong to pass up.
In But Not Too Bold, Dália, a young maid at the eerie Capricious House, finds herself unexpectedly promoted. She had been training under Ms. Matilde to become the next Keeper of the Keys, but with Matilde’s sudden and violent demise at the hands of the mansion’s mistress, Anatema, Dália is thrust into the role earlier than expected. Anatema, however, is no ordinary noblewoman. She is a monstrous, spider-like creature with a taste for both gourmet food and human flesh.
Dália’s new position comes with high stakes: to survive, she must find the thief who stole one of Anatema’s dolls—creations crafted from the memories of those the lady has devoured. If she fails, Dália will meet the same grisly fate. But this is no conventional murder mystery. As Dália delves deeper into the twisted mansion’s secrets, she uncovers uncomfortable truths about her employer’s past, and the dark, dangerous relationships Anatema has cultivated over the years. The lady has a disturbing habit of courting young women, marrying them, and then consuming them when they fail to please her.
While the novella is marketed as a monster romance, it offers much more. Beneath the surface of eerie tension, Pueyo explores themes of labor, exploitation, consent, and power dynamics in relationships. Though these themes aren’t fully developed due to the novella’s brevity (just over 100 pages), they provide enough substance to spark meaningful reflection.
The investigation itself isn’t structured like a traditional mystery. The pacing is more deliberate, and the plot’s red herrings are swiftly resolved. Instead of a frantic search for answers, the novella invites readers to explore the house, meet its inhabitants, and venture into the nearby village. Dália’s interactions with the characters give us a broader understanding of the world and the magic that fuels Anatema. However, Pueyo is careful to keep much of the world’s details shrouded in mystery. Don’t expect a fully fleshed-out magical system or exhaustive explanations about Dália’s world. Nevertheless, the novella’s sparse details create a richly unnerving atmosphere.
Despite its brevity, But Not Too Bold excels in its worldbuilding. The unsettling setting and complex characters leave a lasting impact, while the romance between Dália and Anatema unfolds in a way that is both chilling and compelling.
At just 100 pages, readers may find themselves wishing for more, but in my view, the novella is perfectly pitched. Pueyo packs an impressive amount of creativity into this short format, leaving room for intrigue and unanswered questions. For those seeking a unique speculative experience with a side of sapphic monster romance, But Not Too Bold is sure to satisfy.
