31 Reads of Terror: 'Sealed' by Naomi Booth

Never judge a cover by its story. Okay, maybe that’s not the saying, but in the case of Naomi Booth’s Sealed, it rings true—like a bell tolling at midnight, heralding a tale more lackluster than the cover suggests. You can’t help but wonder why this book, with its Rosemary’s Baby-esque cover art, found its way to Dollar Tree when that place actually sold things for a buck. Ah, those tariffs—they’ve killed many a dream, and apparently, many an author’s hopes too! Let me confess upfront: I’ve got a serious book addiction. It’s an uncontrollable urge, a craving that has no cure. But don’t get me wrong—this one? It’s a tough read, and I’ve certainly plowed through worse. Yet, the allure of that ominous cover tugged at me, promising spine-tingling thrills that simply never delivered. For all you trolls lurking in the comments, nodding along and asking, “Why didn’t you just read the blurb?” Well, I did, thank you very much—before I plunked down my dollar!

Now, let’s get into the plot: Alice, heavily pregnant and yearning to escape the throes of city life with her partner, Pete, thinks they’ve found safety in a remote mountain house. She’s haunted by terrifying rumors of a skin-sealing epidemic that’s beginning to infect the urban populace. But lo and behold—those mountains and their quirky inhabitants hide dangers she never bargained for. With the pressure within their relationship mounting like dark storm clouds, violence brews, and Alice is left wrestling with unimaginable horrors as she fights tooth and nail to protect her unborn child.

As I settled into this tale, I quickly realized that calling Sealed a novel might be a stretch; “novella” feels more accurate—a short, sharp jab of a read that I finished as I gulped down my morning coffee—a delicious addiction of mine. Now back to the plot! The notion of skin-sealing—or skin-eating, if you want to call it by its gruesome name—has been a well-trodden path in horror literature and cinema. And let’s not forget the age-old trope of the damsel in distress, particularly when she’s pregnant. But the added variable of Alice’s little bundle of joy puts a pulse on the stakes. You can’t help but feel a rush of empathy for her and her unborn child's safety, elevating the tension. A thrill a minute? Not quite.

Despite the brief page count, boredom crept in, like an unwelcome guest. It seems pacing was not Booth’s strong suit. However, I must give credit where credit is due—the descriptions were often rich and vivid. But the dialogue? A bit too simplistic for my liking. I crave the depth and nuance of old-school writing—yes, I’m looking at you, Mr. Stephen King! (Just kidding. I adore his work, even those wild, cocaine-fueled escapades.)

Ultimately, what you’re left with is nothing particularly harrowing or gripping until you hit the last 30 pages. And here’s the kicker: there's a birthing scene that’s written with such ferocity and clarity that it’ll echo in your mind long after you’ve turned the final page.

In sum, I walked away disappointed from Sealed. From its captivating cover and intriguing blurb, I expected something grand and horrifying, but instead, I was met with a light-hearted dud. It’s a curious contradiction—it has its redeeming qualities. If this sounds like your cup of tea, by all means, grab a copy and enjoy the journey. Just remember—you’ve been forewarned! ╌★★½✰✰

〜B.J. Burgess