Rubedo by Leona Caelestis is the first instalment in the Necrocene series, two words I had to look up before even starting the book! Published a couple weeks ago, I was immediately drawn to the surreal cover, something warped yet beautiful, which perfectly captures the feel of this novel. This book is not for the faint of heart at 452 pages, not to mention the graphic content, but from the title alone (an alchemy reference) you have to admire the sheer ambition behind it. It feels like a project driven by a very clear artistic vision rather than market trends, which makes it stand out to me.
The plot follows Rebecca as she meets the enigmatic Frederick and is gradually drawn into his orbit. What first seems like a good thing culminates in her sudden abduction and forced transformation into a Tumulari vampire. She awakens disoriented, her body alien and “famished beyond rationale,” and finds herself thrust into a hidden, highly structured society governed by the Pax Sanguinis, the vampire government.
Promised restoration through an alchemical remedy known as Azoth’s Kiss and taken in by the covenant called the Children of Luke, she initially believes there may be a way back to herself. However, she soon realises that this so-called salvation may be bittersweet. As she discovers the vampire world and begins to understand what she has been pulled into, including a wider scheme about a substance that threatens both mortals and immortals, she will have to use every ounce of courage not just to survive, but rebel.
The portrayal of vampirism is one of the novel’s most distinctive elements. You get the sense the author is deeply familiar with the genre and thought out how she wants to depict it. It is not romanticised in any form, and indeed a large portion of the characters are not very nice people. Rebecca’s transformation itself is unsettling and often grotesque, focusing more on degradation than power or allure. For readers used to something like Twilight (apologies if this is too obvious a comparison), this will feel like a far more adult contrast.
Frederick and Rebecca’s dynamic is easily one of the best part of the novel, which is about as far away from traditional romance as you can get. Their relationship begins with a sense of attraction, but quickly shifts into something far more manipulative and abusive, “She would rather die a monster than live as his toy.” The push and pull between control and agency creates a tension that runs through the entire book, and it becomes clear that their relationship likely won’t end well.
Her sobs broke against him, ragged and ceaseless. She clung not out of trust but because her body had no strength left to resist. There was no solace in his words. How could there be?
Rebecca is a likeable protagonist, even as she may get more morally ambiguous as the book goes on. It’s refreshing to see a character with a Thai background, not to mention the Thai culture included in the book. There are plenty of memorable characters with otherworldly names in the book. My favourite character, though, was Nacho, Frederick’s courier and intermediary, who turns out to be one of Rebecca’s few allies.
Stylistically, the novel is beautifully written and leans heavily into ornate, almost classical prose. At times it can be quite demanding to read, with a deliberately florid register that recalls authors like R. F. Kuang or Mary Shelley. The author favours elevated diction, alongside a wide range of descriptive flourishes, often choosing words like “aesthete” and “crystallised”. This gives the book a distinct voice, but it also means it is not an easy read. If you are looking for something fast-paced and accessible, this may feel heavy, though others like me may find the richness rewarding.
In terms of pacing, though the opening moves surprisingly quickly—Rebecca’s abduction arrives as early as chapter three, which leaves relatively little time to fully establish her human life beforehand—the novel is otherwise quite deliberate and takes its time. Later sections slow down considerably, prioritising atmosphere, dialogue and internal reflection over plot momentum. This pacing can be noticeable, but it also allows the themes to develop more fully. It ultimately depends on whether you prefer action or depth.
The level of detail and care put into the world is something to behold. The terminology, Blood-Parent, Hemanet, Thrall, alongside the secret society and occult vibes gives the novel a strong sense of identity and makes the vampire world feel vividly alive.
The author is clearly very well-read, and isn’t afraid to show it off. Set in London, the story has a wide array of cultural and intellectual allusions, including references to figures as diverse as Carl Jung, the Buddha and other elements of Thai folklore like the Krahang. It’s rare to read a book where the author has developed such a keen sense of style in their prose.
The darker topics of the book are handled without restraint, particularly in the depiction of torture and Rebecca’s physical and psychological distress. These moments are intense and, for some readers, may feel uncomfortable to sit with. Personally, though, I appreciated the darkness of Rubedo, even if at times it feels overwhelmingly bleak.
Occasionally, the writing debatedly leans a little too far into stylisation—phrases like “permafrost melancholy” can feel slightly overly flowery—but overall the writing remains a clear highlight. Both in the writing and the plot, I would say the balance between beauty and brutality is one of the book’s defining themes I really enjoyed, besides the overarching motif of evil.
She ran with the wolves and the wolves with her, and they were not symbols and she was not a metaphor; they were breath, and heat, and the wet smell of leaf-mould, and the drum of pads on sodden loam.
In sum, Rubedo is a lovingly written and beautifully unsettling vampire epic. Despite the long length, it maintains a clear sense of purpose throughout, even as the scope expands, and you can feel the amount of thought and effort the author has invested in the project oozing out of every page. It is not always an easy read, but it is an incredibly impressive one, especially for a debut.
Final verdict: For fans of Manacled by SenLinYu or Anne Rice, this is a dense but gripping vampire novel that stands out for its imagination and distinctive approach to the genre. Just be prepared for a book that explores the dark side of human nature.
You can get your copy of Rubedo here!
