Leftwich Blues/Elfwitch Rules is a sweeping fantasy tale woven into the struggles of a fractured family. It starts in myth, with vows made under the moon and curses that shake kingdoms. Then it jolts into the present, landing in the Ozarks with two twins caught in the fallout of their parents’ broken marriage. From there, the story keeps folding back and forth between a mystical Realm of hunters, owls, and ancient metals, and the harsher modern reality of courtrooms, social workers, and family strife. The twin narratives eventually bleed together, blurring what is real, what is allegory, and what is memory.

The writing bounces between old-world fantasy language and down-to-earth small-town chatter. That clash can be jarring, but it also gives the book a unique energy. One minute I was caught up in quicksilver necklaces glowing under a full moon, the next I was listening to kids argue about video games and crackheads. Sometimes I found myself laughing at the dialogue, other times I felt weighed down by how bleak it could get. The swings were sharp, but they kept me reading.

What hit me hardest wasn’t the magic or the battles. It was the raw mess of family life. The fights between Mom and Dad felt too familiar, too close to real arguments I’ve overheard in my own life. The kids’ tug-of-war over which parent to trust felt honest, painful, and sad. The fantasy parts worked like a mirror, twisting those personal struggles into epic stakes. When the twins lost their footing in the “real” world, it was like the Realm itself was cracking apart. That connection between worlds gave the story its punch.

The sudden shifts might throw some readers. But for people who like fantasy mixed with real grit, who don’t mind faith and scripture tucked into the corners, and who can handle a story that cuts close to the bone about family, it’s worth the ride. I’d recommend it to readers who like their myths messy, their heroes flawed, and their stories willing to sit in both wonder and heartbreak.

Pages: 435 | ASIN : B09CD1D958