In this story of angels, demons, humans, and abominations, there are exactly three female characters. One has no name and is only there to be sexually assaulted and impregnated. One actually manages to take a few actions before being sexually assaulted. The third exists primarily to be pregnant and to forgive the main character; the idea of her being sexually assaulted is the main character’s motivation, but she’s only there to inspire rather than to do anything. They’re all humans. No angels, no demons, no abominations — in this author’s world, there’s no reason for a character to be female unless she’s going to be impregnated, sexually assaulted, or inspiring. Or weeping. The women do an awful lot of just standing there crying.
Despite a real attempt at examining how awful humans can be, the most horrifying thing about this book is the lack of one half the human race. It’s a shame; the premise had promise, but the execution was distractingly self-serving — ironically so, since the main character’s growth involves an epiphany in which he realizes that’s how he’s treated the women in his life.
The girlfriend, Jess, has two modes: comforting and threatened. We never see the Black Farm from her point of view. The story occurs almost entirely in her absence as Nick tries to rescue her. She cries a lot, isn’t very good at running, and so on — tropes that were tired in the 80s. I find myself surprised she wasn’t wearing heels so one could break, and that she never twisted an ankle. She has no character growth; how could she, when she has no personality and apparently no emotions other than being utterly devoted? In fact, the main character is the only one who undergoes any kind of development at all.
I wish I’d paid for this with a credit, because cash purchases aren’t refundable.