
The Crimson Fire opens with a punch and I mean that literally and narratively. The first two parts (there are 6 parts in the novel) set the tone, sharp and fast, and I was immediately in. I’ve seen some reviews say the story starts a little slow and takes time to pick up, but honestly? I never felt that. The pacing worked for me right from the beginning.
This is Abel Montero’s debut novel, and that fact alone is kind of wild. It’s dense in all the right ways. Layered, political, morally tangled and yet still very readable. The prose flows easily, which is great because whew, there are a lot of names. Especially in Part 2, my tired brain kept whispering, who are you again? There are so many people! A small index or dramatis personae might’ve saved me a few headaches. That said, even when I forgot who was whose cousin or captain, I could still follow what mattered. The writing is clear enough to guide you through the fog.
We follow four main PoVs throughout, but they come with varying degrees of narrative weight. The core of the story rests with Shadi, a noble teenage girl, and her guard (her dagger), Darjin. And let me just say; I was rooting for Shadi almost instantly. She’s sharp, layered, and gets under your skin in the best way. The other two PoVs are Eshfen, a rebel zealot, and Ensin Andik, a detective on his tail. None of these perspectives feel like filler—they all bring something distinct to the table.
The side characters are also well-drawn. They are not just extras in the background. Everyone feels like a whole person. Complete with fears, loyalties, contradictions. The cast is large, but never hollow.
Emotionally, though, I sometimes felt at arm’s length. These characters are logical, often ruthlessly so. That works thematically, and for the kind of world they’re in, but it also meant I didn’t feel as much as I wanted to. Shadi gives us glimpses of vulnerability, but overall, emotion plays second fiddle to reasoning.
And THEN around the 55–60% mark, everything clicks into place. The pace ramps up, threads tighten, and the payoff starts to land. By that point, there wasn’t a single PoV I didn’t want to follow. There’s no filler here. No wasted chapters, no throwaway scenes. Just story momentum all the way down. For a 420-page book, it’s impressively tight. Every scene pulls its weight.
In the end, The Crimson Fire sets the stage for a story with massive scope, rich politics, and characters who feel like they’re only just beginning. It is a strong, confident and ambitious debut. I’m absolutely reading the next one.
Thank you to the author for providing me with an ARC in exchange for an honest review