The Brides by Charlotte Cross: A haunting feminist reimagining of Dracula’s forgotten women

The women history remembers as Dracula’s brides have always been little more than shadows lurking at the edges of someone else’s story. In The Brides, Charlotte Cross drags them into the light and gives them voices of their own, crafting a Gothic horror novel that is as interested in the dangers facing women as it is in the dangers lurking within Castle Dracula itself.

Releasing July 7, 2026, The Brides is a feminist Gothic horror novel that reimagines the origins of Dracula’s infamous brides through the perspectives of the women who fell under his influence—and the one who escaped.

Cross chooses to tell this story in an epistolary format, relying primarily on journal entries, letters, patient notes, and personal accounts from multiple characters. Epistolary novels are not usually my favorite storytelling method. They require a great deal of work from readers, who must constantly parse who is writing, how the various accounts connect, and what information can be trusted.

There’s also an inherent artificiality to many epistolary novels. Characters often write lengthy, fully realized narratives in their journals as though they are secretly novelists. Fortunately, Cross addresses this concern early when Lucy explains that she hopes to become a “lady writer,” making her detailed journal entries feel more believable as a form of practice.

Even so, there were occasional moments when I found myself pulled out of the story while sorting through perspectives and timelines. However, Cross handles the format better than many authors working in this style. The various documents feel purposeful, and while readers may occasionally need to pause and orient themselves, the narrative rarely becomes confusing enough to derail the story’s momentum.

What struck me most about The Brides was how effectively it uses vampire horror to explore the precarious position of women in Victorian society. Lucy, Mafalda, Eliza, and Alice all possess varying degrees of privilege, yet none of them are truly free. Their independence depends largely on luck, circumstance, and the goodwill—or neglect—of the men around them.

Lucy enjoys a small inheritance only because her late mother had the foresight to protect it from Lucy’s father. Without that financial security, however modest, Lucy’s future might have looked very different. Rather than traveling through Europe with the woman she loves, she could easily have found herself working as a governess simply to survive.

Even Alice, who serves as Eliza’s lady’s maid, occupies an interesting social position. She is dependent on employment yet fortunate enough to work for a kind mistress who values her wellbeing. The novel repeatedly highlights how fragile such arrangements can be, particularly for women whose futures are largely determined by forces beyond their control. And then, of course, there is Dracula himself—another powerful man determined to reshape the lives of women according to his own desires.

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The novel unfolds across two interconnected timelines. The first takes place in the 1880s and follows Lucy, Mafalda, Eliza, and Alice as they journey toward Transylvania. What begins as a trip motivated by illness, companionship, and adventure gradually transforms into something far more sinister as a mysterious nobleman inserts himself into their lives.

The second timeline takes place years later in the early twentieth century. Lady Lowell has been confined to a mental institution suffering from what doctors describe as zoophagy. Her physician, however, gradually begins to suspect a far more troubling explanation—one tied to events he would much rather leave buried in the past.

This structure works particularly well because it allows the mystery to unfold from multiple directions. Readers witness the original horrors while simultaneously watching another character attempt to reconstruct what happened years later. The result is a story that balances revelation with suspense.

The later timeline also introduces fascinating questions about madness, trauma, and the ways society dismisses experiences it cannot explain. In a world where vampires exist but are rarely acknowledged, those who encounter them risk being labeled insane rather than believed.

While the characters and themes are compelling, the real highlight of The Brides is its atmosphere. Cross excels at building a sense of mounting dread. Long before Dracula reveals himself, there is an unsettling feeling that something is wrong. Strange encounters, troubling visions, mysterious illnesses, and the persistent presence of a man who seems to appear wherever the women travel all contribute to an escalating sense of unease.

The Gothic setting feels rich and immersive, filled with dark forests, isolated estates, whispered secrets, and the constant threat of unseen horrors. Cross creates a world where vampires exist just beneath the surface of ordinary life, known only to a handful of terrified individuals who understand how dangerous that knowledge truly is. The tension surrounding Dracula himself is particularly effective. He remains an ominous force long before he becomes an active threat, allowing readers’ imaginations to fill in the darkness.

The Brides succeeds both as a Gothic vampire novel and as a thoughtful exploration of women’s lives at the end of the nineteenth century. Although the epistolary structure occasionally requires patience from readers, Charlotte Cross handles the format skillfully enough that it enhances more than it hinders.

Readers who enjoy atmospheric Gothic horror, feminist reinterpretations of classic monsters, and stories steeped in dread and historical detail will find plenty to appreciate here. Most of all, The Brides reminds us that the women history relegates to the margins often have the most fascinating stories to tell.

Have you read The Brides or are you planning to pick it up when it releases? Let me know your thoughts on Gothic vampire fiction and literary retellings in the comments below.

An advance reader copy of this book (ARC) was provided to me by the publisher via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.

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Related Content

• Muddy meets: Kincardine-based author Charlotte Cross (Muddy Stilettos)
• Charlotte Cross discusses The Brides (video) (Forbidden Planet TV)
• Women & Modern Horror: An Unexpected Feminist Genre (Her Campus)
• Can horror movies terrify us into protecting women’s rights? One Columbia professor thinks so (Vogue)

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