Calla left her life behind, haunted by a curse she cannot control. She seeks refuge in the land of a thousand hellos, Ireland, for a fresh start—a place where no one knows who or what she is.
Colm fled from Clonmara seven long years ago, but now it’s his father’s birthday, and the clan has gathered to celebrate the ould one. Each day brings back the memories that ruined him.
Saoirse dwells in the shadows of a lost love, unwilling to move on and unable to forget. The crystals say one thing, but the cold, hard truth tells another.
Ciarán walked away from the woman he loved for the fun, for the craic. He didn’t realize that one rash decision would impact the lives of so many, least of all his own.
Four broken hearts, brought together by the thread of love.
I began my writing career in the pre-dawn of a winter morning while my husband snored like a train. We could call my husband the catalyst. If it weren’t for him, I would never have gone to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, feed the cat, and sit on the loveseat in front of the fire. It was there, in those moments of wondrous quiet, that I did something I had never thought possible. I opened my laptop, and while the coffee went cold, I wrote a story. My husband had no idea that these sojourns to the loveseat in front of the fire would become a daily occurrence, that writing would become an obsession, but the cat knew. She knows everything. I write stories that make you laugh, make you cry, and make you love. Thank you, friends, for reading! In the beginning, there was an empty page. I am a writer who lives in Muskoka, Canada, with a husband who snores, a hungry cat, and an almost perfect canine––he’s an adorable little shit.
Calla is running from herself, believing a change in location can cloud the consequences of her “gift” Saoirse is straddling her painful past and the present. Colm is trying to avoid his truths. Ciaran is lost, or is he?
All of them are hoping for something. Maybe the magic of Ireland and one small town will show them the way to their happily ever afters.
As a reader, we are literally dropped into the middle of the beginning - Things have already begun, yet they haven't (it will make sense) For me, the confusion was part of the intrigue.
The author uses flashbacks and retellings to provide backstories as well as to weave the mystery that surrounds each of our characters. Carefully laying the paths that interconnect them to one another - think 6 degrees of separation Resulting in an enchanting tale that transports the reader as if they were in the midst of it all
This was one I had to read in sections. The author's writing style took some time for me to acclimate to. It was very detailed, leaning heavily on character moments And as I find with many first in series, there is a lot of stage setting and character intros Occasionally, I felt the story slowed a bit, but as with any good coaster ride, the downs were rewarded with some great “OMGoodnes” moments.
Secrets slowly begin to see the light of day, forming a much greater connection between our cast. Colm slowly wears Calla down (at times, she made me so mad) Saoirse begins to see herself in a new light and Ciaran... You will have to read their tale
This book kept me wanting more! The main character was easy to like and I truly felt like I could visualize being in Ireland with her. From the way the characters speak to the way the author describes the surroundings it’s just easy to paint the picture in your mind. I loved the little twists/surprises that happen within the story. This book kept me on my toes and wanting more! I can’t wait to read the next book!!! Great job to the author! I’m obsessed!.
I received a free copy of this book via Booksprout and am voluntarily leaving a review.
A captivating blend of paranormal fantasy, pagan mythology, and sizzling romance set in Ireland, the land of a thousand hellos.
Haunted by a curse she is desperate to escape, Calla flees Canada to Ireland, only to discover startling revelations which connect her latent power to her past. In the Emerald Isle, she meets the intriguing Colm, a man she is inexplicably drawn to, yet afraid to become involved with because of the dark secret hidden within her.
Saoirse is a pagan witch blessed by the gift of sight, trying to reconnect with her lost love Keiran, who is trapped between realms.
Interwoven by fate, the four lost souls find solace in each other as the threads of love entwine them together.
Calla arrives in the mystifying country of Ireland, a land steeped in ancient folklore. Her quest: to unravel the mystery surrounding her birth and come to grips with her own identity. Are the tales of fairies, witches, and potent magic more than just stories? Mystery permeates the very air, from the disappearance of a young man, visions of death, and even clandestine operations, all entwined in a love story. But be warned: this tale contains steamy scenes and ends on a suspenseful cliff-hanger…prepare to be swept away!
Really enjoyed this book. It was a fun, fast read. I can not wait for the second book. This book is for you if you like Irish stories, found family a little supernatural element sprinkled in. I liked both main characters a lot and am looking forward to the next adventure.
There’s something incredibly immersive about The Scald Crow, a book that throws you headfirst into its world without hesitation. It’s rich, atmospheric, and filled with a distinct voice that sets it apart. While I admire what this book sets out to do, it wasn’t always the easiest read.
The most defining element of The Scald Crow is its dialogue; it's unapologetically heavy, dense with Irish slang, and so deeply woven into the narrative in a way that it feels like you’re eavesdropping on real conversations. The characters feel alive, their voices distinct and authentic. The setting breathes through the way they speak, making the world feel textured and real. But at the same time, it makes for a mentally exhausting read. The dialogue is so dominant that it often overshadows the rest of the story, leaving little room for moments of quiet reflection or deeper immersion into the plot. I found myself needing to take breaks, not because the story wasn’t engaging, but because reading through such thick dialect for long stretches became overwhelming.
That being said, the atmosphere is fantastic. There’s a rawness to the way the world is built, a gritty realism that makes every interaction feel charged with history and weight. The characters are compelling, even when they’re difficult to understand at times, and their relationships add depth to the novel. There’s something about the rhythm of the writing that makes it feel like an oral tradition put to paper, and that’s a rare and beautiful thing to capture.
Where The Scald Crow struggles, for me, is in balance. The dialogue is an immersive tool, but when it dominates the narrative, it becomes a barrier rather than an enhancement. I wanted more time to sit with the world, to let the story breathe between the rapid-fire conversations. The pacing felt relentless, and while that adds to the raw energy of the book, it also made it harder to stay engaged for long stretches.
This is a book I respect more than I loved. It’s bold, unique, and absolutely worth reading for those who enjoy deeply character-driven narratives steeped in regional authenticity. It’s not a book you breeze through, as it demands patience, and sometimes, that patience runs thin. A solid 3 stars for me, though I'd round up to 3.5 for sheer ambition and atmosphere.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
The Scald Crow has a fascinating plot that will open even greater world building in the future books. The characters were great and well rounded, I enjoyed getting to meet the whole O’Donnell clan without it feeling unnecessary. The four points of view was done well, and I felt connected to each of the characters. The background details about the characters were revealed in great ways and I’m excited to see how the relationships between the characters along with how their personal development goes in the future. I felt like this book was both a cozy read but also enough mystery and excitement to keep you invested. As much as I loved the plot and the characters, the writing style and flow of the book leaves something to be desired. There were times when I thought I was missing chunks of text only to realize the story was now in a vision. Once I got the hang of the visions and began to understand the characters more it worked better. The second half of the book flowed better for me. The ending of the book was unexpected but absolutely a perfect lead into the next book in the series. The ending and the great character building had me hooked and excited for book 2. I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
DNF at page 144. Beautifully written and super steeped in Irish mythology, just not for me. Too lyrical in style and literary in feel.
I picked this up as a wrapped blind book thinking it would be Irish romantasy (the teaser mentioned fae + Irish mythology). I was a bit hesitant when I saw the blurb at the back talk about the author's "lyrical narration style," since that isn't usually my thing, but thought to give it a shot. Alas, my instinct was right. I'm sure readers who enjoy lyrical narration and a more literary bent to the romantic fantasy genre will enjoy this, it's just not for me.
Read from Sept 8, 2025 - DNF page 144 Dec 2, 2025.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Oh look, a nice quiet inheritance story (in which the inherited property comes with unsettling visions, fae politics, and a deeply inconvenient attraction to a man whose life you may or may not be about to complicate beyond repair).
The Scald Crow is a dark, sensual tale of identity and inheritance, of old magic stirring beneath modern life, and of one woman discovering that her past is rather more complicated than she had been led to believe.
I went into The Scald Crow expecting a fairly standard set-up. You know the sort: mysterious inheritance, trip to Ireland, a slightly crumbling property, perhaps a few secrets tucked away in dusty drawers.
Instead, the book takes one look at that expectation and immediately hands Calla a vision she very much did not ask for.
Calla Sweet arrives in Ireland to settle the estate of a man she barely knew, which would already be awkward enough without the small detail that she can apparently sense things she really ought not to be able to.
This becomes particularly noticeable when she meets Colm O’Donnell and very quickly realises that something is not quite right.
As first impressions go, it’s not ideal.
Colm, understandably, is not especially thrilled to discover that the woman he has just met may have some kind of unsettling insight into his family’s circumstances. On the other hand, he is also very much attracted to her, which complicates matters, as these things tend to do.
Because nothing says “promising romance” quite like mystery, tension, and the creeping suspicion that fate may have taken a rather personal interest in your life.
Most of the story follows Calla as she attempts to untangle her inheritance, her increasingly vivid visions, and her growing connection to Colm. Unfortunately for her, the more she learns, the clearer it becomes that this is not simply a matter of paperwork and property.
It is, in fact, a matter of old magic, hidden truths, and a number of people who know far more than they are willing to say.
Quite a number of people.
Calla spends much of the book trying to answer a series of increasingly complicated questions about who she is, where she belongs, and why everything seems to be happening now. And every time she gets close to an answer, something shifts.
Usually in a way that raises at least two further questions.
Meanwhile, Colm is dealing with his own set of difficulties, including family tensions, past losses, and the growing realisation that the woman he is falling for is not, strictly speaking, ordinary.
To his credit, he handles this with a mixture of concern, determination, and a willingness to carry on regardless, which is either very romantic or a triumph of questionable judgement depending on your perspective.
Possibly both.
Their relationship develops with considerable intensity. This is not a slow-burn “we shall talk about our feelings over several months” situation. This is very much a “we have met, something strange is happening, and we are going to lean into it immediately” arrangement.
Which works rather well, largely because neither of them is entirely in control of what is happening.
There is also a strong sense throughout the book that Ireland itself is watching. The folklore is not decorative; it is active, present, and occasionally unsettling. The world Calla has stepped into is one where old stories are not stories at all, but something much closer to reality.
And Calla is very much in the middle of it.
What I enjoyed most about the book is how the mystery continues to expand. It begins with a simple inheritance, then becomes something deeper, stranger, and rather more dangerous.
Every answer comes with consequences.
And just when it feels as though things might settle into something resembling clarity, the story shifts again, reminding you that this is only the beginning of something much larger.
Inheritance, folklore, hidden identities, intense attraction, and a heroine discovering she is far more entangled in everything than she ever expected.
What can I say? This one starts with a house and very quickly becomes something else entirely.
I had a great time with it.
*I received a copy of this book from Yarde Book Promotions for review consideration.
From the very first pages, The Scald Crow feels less like a straightforward paranormal romance and more like stepping into a landscape where something old is quietly waiting. Ireland is not simply a setting here — it feels watchful, layered, and deeply rooted in stories that have never quite faded.
What makes the opening chapters so effective is how grounded they are in Calla herself. We meet her not as someone powerful or assured, but as a woman carrying the weight of a past she has not fully come to terms with. There’s a sense of dislocation about her — as though she has never entirely belonged anywhere — and that feeling follows her into Ireland. The inheritance that brings her there feels less like an opportunity and more like a pull, something drawing her into a life she does not yet understand.
Her early experiences are marked by a growing unease. Strange perceptions, moments that don’t quite align with reality, and an awareness that something is shifting just beneath the surface. These are not presented as dramatic shocks, but as quiet disturbances — the kind that are easy to dismiss at first, until they begin to accumulate. That slow build is what gives the novel its atmosphere. It never rushes to explain itself, allowing uncertainty to linger.
Colm enters the story within this unsettled space, and his presence immediately adds both warmth and tension. He is grounded in the world Calla has stepped into — connected to place, to family, to history — in a way she is not. Their dynamic works because of that contrast. Where Calla is uncertain and searching, Colm is steady, but not untouched by his own past. There is a weight to him, a sense of things unresolved, which makes their connection feel less like coincidence and more like something inevitable.
What develops between them is immediate, but not shallow. The intensity of their relationship mirrors the wider story — instinctive, difficult to explain, and not entirely within their control. It grows alongside the strange pull of the world around them, so that emotional and supernatural elements become increasingly difficult to separate.
As the novel progresses, the scope of the story begins to widen. What starts as a personal narrative — a woman dealing with an inheritance and her own uncertainty — gradually reveals itself to be something much larger. The questions Calla is asking about her present begin to lead backwards, into history, into identity, and into a version of the world where myth is not separate from reality.
Importantly, these revelations do not bring clarity so much as they bring complexity. Each answer shifts Calla’s understanding of herself, often in ways that are destabilising rather than empowering. Her journey is not about stepping neatly into a new role, but about adjusting to the knowledge that her life has never been as simple as she believed.
Running alongside this is a strong sense of place. The novel uses Irish folklore not as decoration, but as foundation. It shapes the tone of the story, the behaviour of its characters, and the boundaries of what is possible. There is a constant sense that the modern world sits lightly on top of something much older, and that Calla is beginning to slip between the two.
The emotional core of the story remains in its relationships. Not just the central romance, but the connections to family, to community, and to the past. These relationships are often complicated, shaped by things left unsaid or only partially understood. That gives the story a quiet weight, even in its more fantastical moments.
By the final chapters, the novel has shifted again. What began as a story of uncertainty and discovery becomes something more open-ended, as though the ground beneath the narrative has expanded. There is a sense of movement rather than resolution — of doors opening rather than closing.
It’s this balance — between intimacy and scale, between the personal and the mythological — that makes The Scald Crow stand out. It allows its story to unfold gradually, trusting the reader to sit with its uncertainty and follow where it leads.
Rather than offering neat answers, it leaves you with the feeling that this is only the beginning of something much larger — and that Calla’s story is far from over.
I went into The Scald Crow expecting something steeped in Irish folklore—a touch of fae magic, a hint of romance, and a story shaped by place and tradition. What I didn’t expect was how deeply those elements would intertwine, or how quietly the story would shift from something grounded into something far more layered, where love, loss, and survival all carry equal weight.
At first, the story feels almost simple. Calla arrives in Ireland after inheriting a property from a family member she has never met, looking for a way out of a life that has never quite worked for her. There’s something steady in that beginning—new place, new start, the possibility of something different. But even in those early chapters, there’s a sense that the land itself holds more than it’s letting on.
Because beneath that familiarity, something else is already present.
The folklore isn’t decorative here—it’s woven into everything. It sits in the language people use, in the things they avoid saying, in the way certain names carry weight when spoken aloud. There’s a strong sense that the land belongs to something older, and that people live alongside it rather than in control of it. Traditions and customs don’t just add colour to the story; they feel important, almost protective, grounding the characters in something that has existed long before them.
And then there’s the romance.
Calla and Colm’s connection doesn’t unfold gently. It arrives with a kind of intensity that feels instinctive rather than chosen. Their relationship moves between dream and reality, blurring the line between the two in a way that makes everything feel heightened. There are moments of tenderness, but they’re often edged with something sharper—desire that builds too quickly, interactions that feel almost overwhelming in their urgency. It’s not a comforting romance; it’s one that feels consuming, unpredictable, and at times slightly dangerous.
That sense of danger never fully leaves.
Because even as the relationship deepens, the story keeps reminding you that this world isn’t entirely safe. There’s a constant tension between what feels human and what feels just out of reach, and that tension runs through every interaction. Love here doesn’t exist separately from risk—it sits alongside it, shaped by it.
Running parallel to all of this is Ciarán’s story, which brings a quieter, more unsettling kind of weight. His survival is not freedom. He exists on the edge of the human world—able to be present, to see, to remain close—but unable to truly interact. That distance gives his storyline a haunting quality, as though he is caught between states, neither fully gone nor fully there. What keeps him anchored are the small, familiar things: customs, habits, the rhythms of life that still belong to him, even if he cannot fully belong to them anymore.
Saoirse’s perspective adds another emotional layer again. Where others are moving forward—whether willingly or not—she feels caught in what has already been lost. Her grief is still, heavy, and unresolved, and it lingers in a way that contrasts sharply with the intensity of the other storylines. It gives the novel a quieter kind of heartbreak, one that doesn’t need dramatic moments to be felt.
What makes the book work so well is how all of this exists together without being forced. The folklore, the romance, and the emotional weight of the characters all feed into each other, creating a story that feels both intimate and expansive at the same time.
The Scald Crow doesn’t rush to explain itself, and it doesn’t offer easy answers. Instead, it builds something slower, more atmospheric, and more emotionally tangled. It begins with something familiar, but gradually becomes something much harder to define—a story where love isn’t simple, survival isn’t guaranteed, and the past never quite stays where it should.
And by the end, it’s clear that this is only the beginning of something much larger—something that hasn’t finished unfolding yet.
*I received a copy of this novel from Yarde Book Promotions for review consideration.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Calla Sweet returns to her native Ireland to claim an inheritance from a mysterious relative. She doesn’t know what awaits her in the Emerald Isle, but she figures she has little to lose. Her former life in Canada has imploded, her promising TV career scuttled by her propensity to lose control and make wild, dire predictions that often come true. She suffers from visions and terrors, trances that fracture reality and sudden knowledge arising from unknown sources.
When a flock of wayward sheep sends her rental car careening into a treacherous bog, she is rescued by Colm O’Donnell, a fellow exile returned to Ireland for his father’s birthday. Despite her determination to remain aloof in order to protect her privacy and her sanity, she feels a powerful connection with the handsome, enigmatic Irishman.
Before she knows it, her life and her emotions are entangled with the O’Donnell family and their close friends. In particular, she’s drawn to Saoirse, proprietor of the town pub and a self-avowed witch, who mourns the disappearance of her true love, Colm’s brother Ciaran. No one has seen Ciaran for years. Calla, straddling as she does the mundane and the magical, converses with the lost brother and concludes that he’s a prisoner of the Other Folk, the Faerie beings the Irish people both revere and fear.
I’ve never visited Ireland, though it’s on my bucket list, but after reading The Scald Crow, I have incredibly vivid impressions of the Irish landscape, both natural and human-made. The novel brims with glorious description. Ms. Park also does a fantastic job capturing the cadence of the language and the social rhythms of a tightly knit village society. Clonmarra and its environs come to life as she details the sights, sounds and tastes (yes, there’s a lot mouth-watering food!) that Calla encounters in her new home.
The author also excels in capturing subtle shifts in emotion. The darkness haunting Calla feels real and compelling, even if she (and we the readers) do not really understand it. Likewise, Saoirse’s grief at the loss of her love strikes to the heart, intense and believable.
Set against these positive aspects, I have to say that I found the plot of this novel rather incoherent and some of the characters disturbingly inconsistent. In particular, Calla’s interactions with Colm seem very strange. One moment she is acting reticent and cautious, an understandable reaction given her uncertainty about her mental state as well as her much-mentioned virginity. The next moment, she is flirtatious and challenging, her dialogue full of slang and pet names. It feels as though she has a split personality, which I don’t believe was the author’s intention.
Colm behaves in an equally inconsistent manner, first hot then cold, though this is partially explicable by the magical shifts of reality he experiences in Calla’s presence. When he unexpectedly morphs into a classic romance Dom, taking control of her orgasms and acting like he’d channeling Christian Grey, I could only shake my head. This did not, in my opinion, enhance the story.
Meanwhile, it gradually becomes clear that Calla is half-Faerie, but honestly I could not figure out what that meant in terms of her powers or her personal experience. She sees people’s deaths, like the legendary Banshee; she transports Colm to illusory worlds; she has scary out-of-body experiences. How does all this relate to her heritage? Even magical worlds need rule and constraints. Hanna Park is silent about what Faeries can and cannot do, and what abilities Calla has inherited.
Finally, other readers might have different definitions, but the abrupt end of this novel felt a lot like a cliff hanger to me. Almost nothing is explained, and nothing is resolved. I found this quite unsatisfying.
In short, reading The Scald Crow was a mixed experience. I really enjoyed the world-building, but I wish the characters and plot had been equally coherent and believable.
The Scald Crow begins in a place that feels familiar—grief, family, and the pull of returning home—but it doesn’t stay contained for long. What unfolds is a story that gradually widens in scope, moving from something grounded and recognisable into a world shaped by folklore, instinct, and forces that are never fully explained but always felt.
At the centre of the novel is Calla, whose arrival in Ireland is driven as much by escape as it is by circumstance. Inheriting a property gives her a reason to leave behind a life that has never quite worked for her. Her abilities—visions of the past, glimpses of the future, and moments she cannot fully control—have made it impossible for her to settle anywhere or form lasting connections. Rather than being presented as a gift, these abilities feel isolating, placing her slightly out of step with the world around her. This sense of disconnection shapes much of her character, making her both observant and guarded.
Colm’s story runs alongside hers, rooted more firmly in place and memory. His return home brings with it the weight of family expectations, loss, and the unresolved disappearance of his brother, Ciarán. Where Calla arrives as an outsider, Colm is tied to the land and its history, even when he would rather distance himself from it. His perspective adds a different kind of tension to the story, one grounded in what has been left behind rather than what lies ahead.
The relationship between Calla and Colm develops within this shared space, but it does not follow a predictable path. It is shaped as much by instinct as by interaction, unfolding through moments that exist both in waking life and in something less easily defined. Their connection feels immediate, but not simple. It carries a sense of inevitability, as though it belongs to a pattern that has already begun to take shape.
Running beneath their story is the lingering presence of the fae, which the novel handles with restraint. Rather than presenting them directly, the narrative allows their influence to emerge gradually through atmosphere, language, and suggestion. Conversations hint at a structure that exists beyond human understanding, where certain names are not spoken lightly and certain events are accepted rather than questioned. This approach gives the world a sense of depth without fully revealing its boundaries.
Ciarán’s storyline adds another dimension to the narrative. His disappearance is not treated as a single event, but as something that continues to affect those around him. When his situation is explored more closely, it becomes clear that his survival is neither simple nor entirely explained. What stands out is the way his experience is grounded through familiar customs and traditions, suggesting that even in unfamiliar circumstances, there are ways of holding onto identity.
The plot itself unfolds steadily, focusing less on dramatic turns and more on gradual discovery. Information is revealed in fragments—through conversation, memory, and small shifts in understanding—rather than through direct exposition. This allows the story to build tension over time, encouraging the reader to piece together what is happening rather than being told outright.
The setting plays a significant role in shaping this experience. Rural Ireland is not simply a backdrop, but an active presence within the story. The land feels lived-in and layered, carrying both history and suggestion. It provides a sense of continuity, even as the narrative begins to move into less certain territory.
What emerges from all of this is a story that feels both grounded and expansive. It begins with personal circumstances—loss, escape, return—but gradually opens into something wider, where individual experiences are connected to a larger, more complex world. By the end, the narrative feels less like a complete arc and more like the beginning of something still unfolding, leaving space for what is to come next.
I didn’t expect The Scald Crow to feel as complex as it does. This complexity is evident not only in its plot but also in its characters—how their lives intersect, conflict, and resist settling into anything neat or predictable. The narrative feels less like a straightforward story and more like a collection of lives encountering something they don’t completely understand, with each character reacting in their own unique way.
Calla arrives in Ireland with more than just a suitcase. Her decision to leave everything behind after losing her job seems practical on the surface, but as the story unfolds, it becomes clear that she has never really had a place to call home. Her visions read as if she has psychosis; she is never truly grounded in the present and always pulled elsewhere. Yet, there are moments when she knows things she shouldn’t—particularly about death. That certainty lends her experiences a weight that’s hard to dismiss, blurring the line between something psychological and something more tangible, and more frightening.
Colm, in contrast, is someone who belongs too much. His ties to home, to family, and to what’s been left unresolved keep pulling him back, even when he’d rather stay away. His brother’s disappearance hangs over everything, not as a dramatic mystery, but as something quieter and more persistent. It’s not just about what happened to Ciarán, but about what his absence has done to the people around him.
Saoirse adds another layer to this, and I found her perspective unexpectedly affecting. She isn’t caught up in the same immediacy as Calla and Colm, but her story carries a different kind of weight. There’s a stillness to her, shaped by a love she hasn’t been able to move on from. While others are trying to make sense of what’s happening now, she feels anchored to what’s already gone, and that contrast gives the story a different emotional texture.
The relationship between Calla and Colm sits somewhere in the middle of all this. It doesn’t feel like the centre of the story in a traditional way, but more like one thread among several that keep tightening and crossing over each other. Their connection is intense, but also inconsistent—sometimes close, sometimes uncertain, never quite settled. It doesn’t follow a clear rhythm, which makes it feel more real, but also harder to predict.
What I found most striking about the book is its deliberate pacing; it doesn’t rush to unravel its mysteries. Instead, it creates a spacious environment for uncertainty to thrive, allowing various elements of the narrative to develop at their own natural rhythm. Some questions are thoughtfully addressed, while others linger without resolution, crafting a sense of unease that permeates the reading experience.
As I reached the final pages, it wasn’t a singular moment that resonated with me, but rather the intricate way in which all the narrative threads—Calla, Colm, Saoirse, and Ciarán—intertwined without ever fully coming to rest. It feels as though the story exists in a state of perpetual motion, where each character carries unresolved burdens, and the significance of what unfolds next holds equal weight to the past events that have shaped their lives.
It’s not a book that ties everything up neatly, but that’s part of what makes it work. It leaves you sitting with it, thinking about the characters long after you’ve closed it, and wondering how their stories will continue.
*I received a copy of this book from Yarde Book Promotions for review consideration.
I have always had a deep appreciation for stories rooted in folklore, magic, and the unseen forces that shape our lives, so The Scald Crow immediately captured my attention—and it more than lived up to it. What makes this novel stand out is not only its dark, mythological edge, but the way it weaves that magic so seamlessly into the relationships at its core. It feels both intimate and expansive, grounded in emotion yet touched by something otherworldly.
At the heart of the story are four broken individuals—Calla, Colm, Saoirse, and Ciarán—each carrying their own pain, secrets, and unresolved pasts. What I found particularly compelling is how their lives are intertwined through love, loss, and fate. These relationships are not simple or idealised; they are messy, raw, and deeply human. Whether it is romantic, familial, or rooted in memory, every connection feels meaningful and adds weight to the story.
Colm and Calla’s relationship, in particular, stood out to me. There is an undeniable pull between them that goes beyond attraction—it feels inevitable, almost fated. Yet at the same time, it is complicated by fear, secrecy, and the unknown. Their dynamic is intense and sensual, but also layered with tension, making it feel both beautiful and dangerous.
Saoirse’s storyline adds another emotional depth, especially in how it explores grief and the inability to let go. Her connection to love—both lost and lingering—feels incredibly poignant, and I found her perspective grounding amidst the darker, more supernatural elements.
The magical and mythical aspects of the novel are equally captivating. The presence of witchcraft, intuition, and spiritual guidance—particularly through symbols like crystals—adds a really rich layer to the story, especially when inexperience with these forces leads to devastating consequences. Alongside this, the darker faerie lore brings an unsettling edge, reminding the reader that magic is not always kind or forgiving.
What I appreciated most is how the novel balances these elements. The mythology does not overshadow the relationships, and the relationships do not diminish the magic—instead, they strengthen one another. Love, in all its forms, becomes the thread that ties everything together, even as the characters are pulled towards forces beyond their control.
This is the kind of story that quietly gets under your skin. It doesn’t rely on grand twists or spectacle, but instead builds something far more lasting—an emotional pull that stays with you. By the end, you’re left not just thinking about what happened, but about what it meant, and how easily the line between love, loss, and something darker can blur.
This book is a beautifully haunting read that ends on a cliff-hanger. I cannot wait to read book 2.
I received a copy of this book from Yarde Book Promotions. I was under no obligation to write a review.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Where Desire Feels Inevitable and Love Refuses to Stay Innocent
I finished The Scald Crow with the lingering sense that some connections are never entirely chosen—that they exist before we recognise them, and once awakened, they cannot simply be set aside. What begins as a story shaped by grief and return gradually unfolds into something far more consuming, where attraction deepens into obsession and intimacy takes on a life of its own.
The novel wastes little time establishing the intensity between Calla and Colm. From their earliest interaction, there is a pull between them that feels immediate and instinctive, as though something has already begun before either of them fully understands it. Their first true moment together—occurring in a space that exists somewhere between waking and dreaming—captures this perfectly. Though neither moves in the physical world, what passes between them feels entirely real, setting the tone for a relationship that refuses to follow ordinary rules.
As the story progresses, that connection only deepens. The shared dreams they experience are not fleeting or symbolic, but vivid and emotionally charged, creating a space where restraint no longer applies. These encounters blur the boundary between reality and something more fluid, allowing their connection to grow in ways that feel both intimate and unsettling. When that same intensity carries into the waking world, it becomes more difficult to contain. Moments of closeness emerge suddenly, often in places or situations where they should not, giving their relationship a sense of urgency that feels almost beyond their control.
The narrative moves with a steady sense of escalation. What begins as attraction develops into something far more consuming, with each interaction carrying greater emotional and physical weight. The boundaries between control and surrender begin to blur, leaving both characters—and the reader—uncertain of where one ends and the other begins.
Beneath the intensity of the romance lies a deeper exploration of connection itself. The novel suggests that love is not always gentle or stabilising, but can be disruptive, transformative, and at times overwhelming. It raises the question of whether true connection is something we choose, or something that claims us regardless of our intentions.
The Scald Crow is of course more than a romance book, for their is wonderful fantasy element as well, which makes things all the more complicated for the protagonists! I enjoyed this book and I think it will certainly appeal to fans of this genre.
*I received a copy of this book from Yarde Book Promotions for review consideration.
If you like romance, the fae and all things Irish then you are going to love this book.
At the heart of the story is Calla and Colm, and their connection is utterly intoxicating. From the very first moment, there’s a pull between them that feels deeper than attraction—something instinctive, almost inevitable. That early scene at the wake, where Calla draws Colm into a dreamlike space and kisses him, is unforgettable. They don’t move in the physical world, yet what passes between them feels more real than anything grounded in reality. It’s soft and suspended, but also charged, as if something has already claimed them both.
From there, their connection only intensifies. The shared dreams are vivid and deeply intimate, blurring the line between sleep and waking until it becomes impossible to separate the two. There’s a sense that they are meeting somewhere beyond themselves, somewhere that exists just out of reach—and that makes every moment between them feel heightened, almost sacred, but also dangerous.
When they are together in the waking world, that tension becomes almost unbearable. It builds and builds, until it spills over in ways that feel urgent, reckless, and completely consuming. There is something almost obsessive in the way they are drawn to each other, as though resisting it is no longer an option - whether that be in a crowded pub, or a tack room!
What makes this even more compelling is the presence of the fae. These are not distant, passive beings—they feel deeply entwined with everything that is happening.
Ciarán’s storyline offers a haunting counterpoint to all of this. His survival feels hard-won, shaped by endurance and quiet resistance. What stands out is how Irish customs and traditions seem to anchor him—small, familiar practices that hold meaning and protection in a world that seeks to unravel identity. It suggests that even in the face of something ancient and overwhelming, there are still ways to hold onto what makes you human.
Everything in this novel feels connected—the longing, the danger, the folklore, and the sense of being watched or guided. It creates a story that is as emotional as it is unsettling, where love is not safe or simple, but something that consumes, transforms, and refuses to let go.
The Scald Crow is as dark as it is sensual, and I cannot wait to read the next book in the series.
*I received a copy of this novel from Yarde Book Promotions for review consideration.
I must admit, I have always been drawn to Irish folklore and the darker side of faerie lore, so when I began The Scald Crow, I was immediately intrigued—and it certainly did not disappoint. From the very first pages, I felt completely immersed in rural Ireland, in the quiet weight of grief, family, and tradition. The atmosphere is so vivid that it feels as though you are standing in the room during the wake, sharing in the heaviness of loss alongside the O’Donnell family. It is one of those books that is incredibly difficult to put down, and in fact, I read it in one sitting.
The world-building in this novel is particularly striking. The faerie realm is not romanticised or softened; instead, it is presented as something ancient, dangerous, and deeply unsettling. I really appreciated how the author balanced the familiar human world with this darker, hidden one, allowing the tension between the two to build naturally. It never feels forced—rather, it unfolds in a way that feels inevitable and quietly consuming.
Colm and Calla are at the heart of the story, and their relationship is one of the most compelling aspects of the book. There is a strong sense that they are drawn together by something beyond their control, and while there is a sensual, magnetic pull between them, it is never straightforward or entirely safe. Their connection feels layered, intense, and at times unsettling, which only adds to the depth of the story.
What I appreciated most is how the novel explores light and darkness, not as opposites, but as forces that exist alongside one another. The human world feels grounded yet fragile, while the faerie realm is dangerous but strangely compelling. This balance gives the story a depth that lingers, making you question where the true boundaries lie.
The writing is rich and evocative without being overwhelming, and it captures both the emotional depth of grief and the eerie pull of the unknown beautifully. If I had one small critique, it would be that at times the atmosphere is so heavy and immersive that it slightly slows the pacing—but for me, this also added to the overall tone and experience of the book.
I greatly enjoyed reading The Scald Crow and would highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys romantasy with a darker, more grounded edge.
*I received a copy of this book from Yarde Book Promotions for review consideration.
The Scald Crow doesn’t waste time with hand-holding. Author Hanna Park kicks you straight into the Irish bogs, car troubles, and uncanny vibes before you can even unpack your suitcase. It’s a ride—mud-splattered, magical, and way more emotional than you'd expect.
The story follows Calla Sweet, a Canadian news anchor who crashes—literally and figuratively—into the Irish countryside. She’s reeling from a career implosion, haunted by a mysterious ability to foresee death, and tangled up in an inheritance from a man she’s never met. What follows is a trippy, slow-burn unraveling of secrets, fae folklore, and personal reckoning, all soaked in atmosphere thicker than a pint of Guinness.
Calla’s voice is hilarious, sharp, and often heartbreaking. One minute she’s cracking jokes about bog stench and bees, the next she’s reliving trauma or spiraling into a vision. The tone swings wildly—and that’s the beauty of it. Hanna Park writes like she’s sitting across from you at a pub, telling ghost stories between pints. Sometimes poetic, sometimes blunt, always immersive.
Then there’s Colm O’Donnell. Former military, current tree farmer (ish), and the brooding mystery man you didn’t ask for but definitely needed. He’s got secrets. Big ones. The tension between him and Calla hums through the pages—not in a cheesy rom-com way, but in a “this could get really messy” kind of way. And it does.
What makes this book stand out isn’t just the Irish folklore—it’s the way Park blends it into the everyday. Faerie beliefs, ancestral ties, and supernatural tinges creep in slowly, almost casually. You’re never sure if you’re in a fantasy or just reading the most magical slice-of-life novel ever written. Either way, it works.
The pacing’s a little uneven at times. Some scenes go on longer than they probably should, especially in the quieter middle sections. But the dialogue sparkles, the emotional weight lands, and the sense of place is absolutely nailed. By the time the last page rolls around, you’re left wanting more—in a good way. It’s the first in the Beyond the Faerie Rath series, and you’ll be itching to follow Calla deeper into the rabbit hole.
The Scald Crow is a moody, magical, and wonderfully weird debut that sneaks up on you. It’s not about saving the world—it’s about finding your place in it, even if that place happens to be at the edge of two worlds.
The Scald Crow is one of those books where the atmosphere and the romance are so closely tied together that you can’t really separate them. The setting doesn’t just sit in the background—it shapes everything, especially the relationships.
From early on, there’s a strong sense of place. The rural Irish setting feels grounded and familiar, but there’s always something slightly off about it. Nothing is overly explained, but you get the feeling that the land holds more than it lets on. Even in quieter moments, there’s a low, steady tension running through everything—like something isn’t quite right, even if you can’t immediately say why.
That same feeling carries into the romance between Calla and Colm. This isn’t a soft or easy relationship—it’s intense, immediate, and sometimes overwhelming. There’s a pull between them from the start, but it doesn’t feel entirely comfortable or controlled. When things build between them, they don’t do it gradually—they spill over, often in moments that feel impulsive and hard to rein in. It gives their connection a raw, consuming edge that makes it really hard to look away from.
What makes it even more interesting is how that intensity never quite feels safe. Not in a dramatic or extreme way, but in a quieter sense—like something is always slightly unbalanced. You’re not watching a relationship settle, you’re watching it unfold in real time, without guarantees, and that unpredictability keeps you hooked.
The fae elements add to this without taking over. They’re not loud or heavily explained—they sit just at the edges, shaping the tone rather than dominating the plot. It’s more about the feeling they create than anything else, and that subtle presence adds to the unease that runs through the whole story.
I wouldn’t call this dark in a heavy or brutal way, but it definitely has a darker edge to it, especially later in the novel when the reader gets a glimpse inside the fae world.
It leans more towards a mood-driven, emotionally intense romantasy rather than something action-heavy. If you like stories where the romance is messy, the tension builds slowly, and the atmosphere does a lot of the work, this is well worth picking up.
It’s the kind of book that lingers—not because of big dramatic moments, but because of the feeling it leaves behind.
The Scald Crow is a richly atmospheric read that blends folklore, mystery, and romance into something that feels both grounded and quietly otherworldly. From the beginning, there’s a strong sense that something just beneath the surface is waiting to be uncovered, and that tension carries the story beautifully.
Calla is an easy character to connect with. She arrives in Ireland uncertain and carrying more than she quite understands, and there’s something very human about the way she reacts to everything that begins to unfold around her. She isn’t immediately confident or in control, which makes her journey feel all the more real as she gradually starts to piece things together.
Colm was probably the character who stood out most for me. There’s a steadiness to him, but also a sense of weight from his past that gives his character depth. I really enjoyed the dynamic between him and Calla — it’s intense, but it also feels rooted in something deeper than simple attraction.
The setting is one of the book’s strongest elements. The Irish landscape and folklore are woven into the story in a way that feels natural rather than decorative. There’s a constant sense that the past and present are overlapping, and that the world the characters are moving through is far older — and far stranger — than it first appears.
I also appreciated how the story balances its elements. There’s romance, certainly, but also mystery, family history, and a gradual unfolding of something much larger. The plot builds steadily, with each new discovery adding another layer rather than simply resolving what came before.
This was a very engaging and immersive read with a strong sense of atmosphere and character. It feels like the beginning of something bigger, and I’d be very interested to see where the story goes next.
>i> I received a copy of this book from Yarde Book Promotions for review consideration.
The Scald Crow is a hauntingly tender romance that weaves together love, regret, and emotional healing against the evocative backdrop of Ireland. Hanna Park crafts a story driven not by spectacle, but by the quiet power of wounded hearts searching for restoration.
At the center of the novel are four deeply affected characters, each carrying their own burden of loss or guilt. Calla arrives in Ireland seeking anonymity and escape from a curse she cannot control, while Colm returns to a home steeped in memories that still ache years later. Saoirse remains tethered to a love she cannot relinquish, and Ciarán grapples with the consequences of a single reckless choice that reshaped multiple lives. Their stories intersect through love not as a cure all, but as a fragile thread that binds and slowly repairs.
What distinguishes The Scald Crow is its emotional sincerity. Park allows grief and longing to unfold naturally, resisting melodrama in favor of quiet reflection. The novel understands that healing is rarely linear and that love often emerges not at the absence of pain, but alongside it. Each character’s emotional arc feels earned, grounded in introspection and consequence.
Ireland itself functions as more than a setting it becomes a living presence within the story. The sense of place, infused with memory, folklore, and communal ties, mirrors the characters’ internal landscapes. The rhythm of the prose reflects this atmosphere, lending the novel a lyrical, almost meditative quality.
The Scald Crow will resonate with readers who value emotionally rich romance, character driven storytelling, and themes of second chances. It is a story about broken hearts finding one another not to erase the past, but to face it together.
Calla doesn’t arrive in Ireland full of hope; it feels more like she’s run out of options. Losing her job has already knocked her off balance, and inheriting a property from someone she’s never heard of merely gives her somewhere to land, not necessarily a place where she belongs. From the beginning, there’s a sense that this won’t be a clean reset. Her visions are a curse that she thas tried all her life to keep hidden, because when people find out they shun her.
Colm’s situation is almost the opposite. He is tied to his origins whether he likes it or not. Family, memory, and especially the disappearance of his brother, Ciarán, quietly but heavily loom in the background of his life. When Calla and Colm meet, there’s no slow build. It feels immediate, as if something clicks into place before either of them has time to question it.
Their relationship is swoon worthy yet also frustrating, both wanting to be together in all sense of the word but Colm holds back, wanting a longer more grounded relationship with her then one based on sex alone. Still. the scenes where they are togetther and where temptation takes hold are very sensual.
There is a secondary story running along theres, and that is of Ciarán, the brother that went missing, only he isn't missing he is just somewhere other. He is alive, but he isn't aloud to live. His partner in the human world, Saoirse, has to carry the weight of his loss, hanging onto the past almost afriad to let him go.
This book is a real treat for fans of "Romantasy" novels.
*I received a copy of this book from Yarde Book Promotions. I was under no obligations to write a review.
This story is a magical trip to Ireland - charming accents, pub music, and roadside sheep included! In terms of the setting, it is beautifully described, with special details and turns of phrase that really take you there. ("Tall blonde in a black dress" is my new favorite description of a Guinness!) It's clear the author has spent some time in Ireland, studied the traditions, and is familiar with the culture. It comes from a place of care, love, and appreciation, which is a pleasure to read.
I found the characters engaging and well-developed, gradually revealing different facets of themselves. I've always been a sucker for tall, handsome men with Irish accents, so of course the hero is totally my type. The romance is a bit tricky to follow - sometimes I found myself in a steamy scene with no real understanding how the characters got there, seeing as she turned him down just a page ago - but eventually, I let go of the plot, just went with the flow, and enjoyed the strangeness of hopping in and out of dreams. Like dancing with the fairies, you never really know what's real, and what's a dream. Still, if you like clear, easy-to-follow storylines, this one might lose you.
Also, I have to say, I found the ending unsatisfying. Yes, yes, I know there is a sequel coming, but it's hard when things cut out in the middle of a scene! I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
The Scald Crow by Hanna Park is a romantasy read about our FMC named Calla who is trying to escape a curse. She runs from Canada to Ireland to find out how to maybe break the curse. And she meets Colm who is a man that she is really attracted to, however she feels that she can't let anyone get too close because of her secret. This book has so much Irish dialouge and slang that if you really like Ireland and their culture you will love this book. The world build is great and the character relationships are really well written. You can't understand them sometimes due to the way that the dialogue is written but they still add a huge amount to the story. I liked the O'Donnell clan and all of their people. The plot is a little hard too follow as the flow of the story is not always clear and there are places the story skips around a bit and the reader is left trying to figure out where they are. Like when the two MC's are trying to interact with each other there are some parts that you are kind of left scratching your head as a reader. The ending was a bit unplanned it seems and we can tell as a reader that it was kind of like a cliffhanger where you are left standing on the edge wondering why things are left like they were. The story is overall beautiful however there needs to be more work done on the writing of the dialogue with the characters and the plot.
Calla is trying to outrun her curse, but Ireland has more than a few surprises in store for her, including handsome Colm, who awakens her soul. Can she open her heart to Colm and embrace her gift?
The Scald Crow is a breathtaking romantasy set on the glorious Emerald Isle, also known as Ireland. Hanna Park has a lyrical narration style I just love. Every scene is imbued with emotion and magic. The emotional narration captured my soul from the very first page. The characters, though, are what make The Scald Crow an unforgettable read.
Let's start with the characters. Calla is our main heroine. I connected with her on so many levels. I've been in her shoes and related to her fleeing reflex. It was so much fun to see her reawaken and discover her true self in Ireland.
Colm is a mysterious hero, but he quickly became one of my favorite characters. He has some dark secrets but it's his strength and love that won me over.
Hanna Park has penned another impossible to put down read. Warning: there's a cliffhanger and it's a doozy but rest assured, the next book is coming out later this year. Grab this book and read it today.
I can't recall ever saying this old chestnut, but if you're a PNR fan and you're only going to read one book this year, make it THIS ONE!
If you're after originality, fantastic imagery, cutting edge prose, a huge dollop of Irish mythology and a journey into the Otherworld like you've never read before. This is it. I've only just finished reading it and my heart is still pounding!
With one of the best first chapters I have read in a while and a whole host of supernatural clawing through the lush pages, as well as one of the most sensual slow burn/high chemistry romances ever and a fantastic paranormal mystery, I am buzzing louder than Calla's bees. This is Tik Tok/Book Tok worthy.
I can't believe this has been on my tbr list for weeks and now I regret leaving it so long. This is the first book I could re read a thousand times and never get bored of. I will never, and I mean this, never be able to read another pnr book again (unless it's by this author). Thank the stars there's more to come.
I received a free copy of this book via Booksprout and am voluntarily leaving a review.
I enjoyed reading The Scald Crow. I had to start by looking up what a scald crow was, as that's how I roll. What I found is that it is a crow, native to Ireland, that considered a scavenger and a, occasionally menacing, omen of death in Irish folklore. So this sets the scene! The MC Calla Sweet is a Canadian TV personality who flees to Ireland under a cloud of mystery. She's inherited a farm from what she thinks is a distant relative. Immediately she becomes involved with the O'Donnell family, esp. Colm, who has his own personal issues going on.
We quickly learn that Calla has special powers, can see death coming, and has a connection with the Otherworld. Her attraction to Colm is fast and furious even as she tries to figure out who and what she is.
The writing is dense with lots of discription. The Irish mythology is good and well explained. I will warn you that it ends on a total cliff hanger which is not a favorite of mine.
I would totally recommend this book to lovers of fantasy/romance with a deep dive into mythology.
After losing her job and coming into an inheritance, Calla leaves Canada to make a new life for herself in Ireland. There she meets Colm. Their attraction is instant, but time and circumstances wedge between them. Ms. Park did a great job. Her writing is tight, and I love the way several of the characters speak with an Irish brogue. I can easily hear it in my mind. The story focuses on two couples whose lives are intertwined through magic, family, and friendship. In my opinion, this book is more fantasy than paranormal, but at its core, the romance reigns supreme. It’s slow burn, yet the passion is fiery when it finally heats up. Be warned, there’s a big cliffhanger. I wish I had known that before I started reading, so I was a little annoyed there was no happy ending for the main characters. However, the next book will be out soon. I’m eager to know how things will work out. For lovers of fantasy romance, this is the book to read. 5 Stars
I cannot remember having read a PNR with a duo couple POV before, and it is certainly something different about how this affects the plot. Not related to this novel specifically, because it was truly great, but I am unsure whether a duo couple plotline is the thing for me.
I also usually prefer paranormal or historic settings over real world settings in present time, but the author has really made this work in «The Scald Crow», and proved to me that PNR is worth reading in such settings too. Great job!
My biggest wish for the following books in the series is that the author makes the spicy scenes even spicier. ;)
Finally, be aware of the cliffhanger, as in cliffHANGER … I am so happy to have read «The Scald Crow», but I am also unhappy about t because I asolutely loat having to wait for the next book!
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.