This was billed as horror, and wasn't (yet again). Maybe I just don't understand what horror is supposed to be?

I did like this for what it was though: a Native American mystery with supernatural elements, in the same general line as Bad Cree by Jessica Johns. Our heroine has been living a largely-contented life of bartending, horror novels and punk rock, when her mother starts haunting her, along with visions of an ancestral monster. Trying to become nightmare-free pushes her into digging into her family history, and her own trauma.

I really liked our borderline-alcoholic anti-social dumpster fire of a main character, and her struggles to deal with drama she absolutely does not have the coping skills to manage. She's only marginally in touch with any of her Native American culture and family, which makes having visions a lot to deal with, but she starts to connect more over the course of the story. It's a really lovely healing journey, and a page-turner mystery, and not especially scary. Though that's not entirely fair, as it's depiction of male violence against women is striking and effective.