Krampus: Not the Christmas Demon You’re Looking For

As someone who loves the Krampus mythology, I went into this book hoping for a dark, spine-tingling dive into the legend of the Christmas demon. What I got instead was… a honky-tonk road trip that completely missed the mark for me.

First off, let’s talk about expectations. This book is billed as horror, but if you’re looking for something scary, eerie, or even mildly unsettling, you’re not going to find it here. Brom’s Krampus isn’t the terrifying figure I’d hoped for—it’s more like a grumpy antihero in a small-town soap opera.

The book leans hard into its Southern setting—backwoods bars, country music, the whole deal—but instead of adding atmosphere, it just felt off. I came for folklore and horror, not a honky-tonk soap opera. The one part that actually worked for me? The crooked cops. That bit felt real like something ripped straight out of the news. Wish the rest of the book had that same punch.

To Brom’s credit, the artwork in the book is fantastic, and I can’t fault his creativity. He clearly has a passion for reimagining myths, but this particular take just didn’t work for me.

If you’re into Krampus but don’t mind trading horror for honky-tonk drama, you might enjoy this. For me, though, it was a letdown.