I Support Women’s Rights and Women’s Wrongs: A Review of I.V. Ophelia’s “The Poisoner”

Review 002—

Victorian London. The dim light of day spills over polished cobblestones and between narrow townhouses lining the street. A lone woman in a dark dress makes her way through the fog to deliver a lethal gift: a small glass vial of poison.

Alina Lis is an alchemist and botanist by trade, and a poisoner of men by necessity. London is plagued by violent cads and unrepentant playboys, and Alina has made it her mission to take them down one by one. Silas Forbes is certainly a man who belongs on her list, and when she catches him mid-crime, she knows she has work to do.

I was immediately hooked by the premise. Dark romance, obsessive vampires, and women avenging women’s wrongs make for a fantastic bouquet of tropes. The author also does a wonderful job grounding us in a lush 1890s aesthetic; macabre botanical motifs, meticulous laboratory alchemy, and visceral descriptions of oppressive luxury make the physical world feel richly alive.

The Poisoner is full of dark delights. The banter between our alchemist and “The Creature”—as Silas is first known to her—is both wickedly charming and unhinged. When his bloodlust clashes with Alina’s clinical detachment and strong sense of justice, the tension is sharp and quick. Silas himself can’t quite decide whether he wants to maim this woman or let her maim him and every glimpse into his perspective offers a delightful contrast of his conflicting desires.

I did encounter a few painful snags while reading, however— While the pacing never drags when they clash, the middle section does become circular and repetitive without the reprieve of broader world-building. The story begins to play out as more of a tight, personal drama that seems to forget what time it is inhabiting. Unfortunately, the most glaring flaw lies in the consistency of the characters’ motivations.

To be clear, I am well-versed in dark romance tropes. From standard Dead Dove fare to extreme horror and non-traditional dynamics, I have little issue with themes of corruption, vampirism, stalking, or dubious consent. What I can’t ignore is narrative inconsistency. Alina is introduced as a woman driven by a strict, black-and-white moral code and deep-seated guilt only to abandon her core convictions the second Silas offers her intoxicating attention. She acknowledges her surrender as a weakness, but the narrative quickly excuses it away.

Silas suffers a similar whiplash. Over the course of the novel, he undergoes multiple jarring transformations: from feral monster, to golden knight, to gormless coward. Rather than feeling like organic character corruption or tragic decline, it reads as a forced narrative shift where the characters bend awkwardly to fit the plot rather than driving it.

The bones of this novel are undeniably robust. The wit lands, the chemistry crackles, and the vampire lore is compelling. I wanted to love this book, and for the first half, I genuinely did.

Ultimately, The Poisoner lands at a 2/5 for me. The premise promises a heroine in absolute command of her own justice; what it delivers is a woman easily talked out of it.

If you prefer your dark romance with an unyielding dynamic where the heroine keeps her sharp edges intact, look elsewhere. But if you are drawn to atmospheric, morally grim vampire melodrama and don’t mind a lead who loses her bite along the way, there is still dark fun to be had—especially for readers who enjoy the thornier corners of A Court of Thorns and Roses or the gothic tension of Serpent & Dove.