Book Review: For Whom the Belle Tolls by Jaysea Lynn
- Fiction Fans

- Jan 17
- 4 min read

There’s a group of friends that I occasionally do buddy reads with. My taste in books doesn’t always overlap with theirs, but I usually enjoy the experience of reading the book together even if I don’t always vibe with the book itself. So when one of them started raving over For Whom the Belle Tolls by Jaysea Lynn and suggested that we all read it together, I was in.
Unfortunately, not even that shared reading experience could redeem this book for me.
For Whom the Belle Tolls follows Lily, a young woman who has died of cancer and gone to the Afterlife. There’s not much plot to the book, it’s very much a slice of life story. As she explores the Afterlife (which is composed of different “realms” that correspond to various belief systems) she gets (or rather creates) a job for herself in Hell, meets a handsome demon (Bel), and adopts a traumatized child (Sharkie). Yes, there’s also a war against an invading universe at the end of the book, but it’s not well explained, over very quickly, and honestly feels like it’s only there to manufacture a reason for Lily to miss Bel (as he’s off leading part of the army).
I didn’t actually have many issues with the plot (or lack thereof) aside from the out-of-place war; sometimes it’s nice to read a book where you don’t have to worry about anything bad happening to the characters (particularly right now). No, my main issue with the book was the main character, Lily. She was the epitome of a main character without flaws. Sure, she had a traumatic past, but it never felt like she actually struggled with it. She’s the only human who isn’t afraid of any of the demons or Hell. She creates the “Hellp Desk,” which somehow revolutionizes Hell’s intake policies because now instead of bothering the demons at the front gates, the worst souls go to her and she beats them up? She makes friends with all the mythical gods immediately, and it’s So Quirky how she makes so many sex jokes upon meeting them! Isn’t that funny! When she takes Sharkie in, she somehow knows so much about fostering a traumatized child because she’s always wanted children, so she read all about child development in her spare time.
Lily’s plotline with Sharkie forms a strong emotional core throughout the back half of the book. Seeing Lily adopt Sharkie and work so hard to provide her a safe space to unpack her trauma was rewarding (even if I think everyone’s trauma gets processed too easily in the book). Unfortunately, this relationship growth is undercut entirely by Lily’s focus on how much she wants to have a child with Bel, and how sad that she can’t have one (because Souls can’t have children with what I’ll call native afterlife residents–I think there’s a phrase for them in the book, but my library ebook expired and honestly I don’t care enough to go look up the term). Ma’am, you HAVE a child with Bel. The fact that Sharkie isn’t your biological child does not in anyway mean that she is not your child with Bel–a fact that Lily sort of acknowledges, but never really grapples with. The end result left me as the reader somewhat soured on her relationship with Sharkie, as it was so trivialized by Lily’s focus on her inability to get pregnant (and, ultimately, the reveal at the end of the novel that actually, there is a way she can have a biological child with Bel).
My other big issue with the book was the character of Leviathan (Lev), another demon working in Hell. Or rather, how everyone around him reacted to him. Lev is very autistic coded, with the most stereotypical of autistic traits. He cares immensely about his paperwork and memos. He’s incredibly socially awkward. And while everyone is nice enough to him (with Lily of course being the nicest), he and his memos are also the butt of the joke in the text. Every single named demon makes fun of the memo he sent telling people not to have sex in their offices. That’s…honestly not an irrational ask?
Finally, the book also ends with a completely contrived miscommunication–Lev tells Lily that there’s a way she can become a native resident of the afterlife, she rushes off to go do that, and then Bel freaks out when Lev says that she’s gone to the reincarnation desk but inexplicably never says why. Miscommunication is one of my least favorite plot devices, and this variation of it was so easily avoidable. It was clearly only there to create narrative tension, but instead it just frustrated me.
Now, maybe if the writing had been spectacular, I would have gotten over some of these issues. Maybe. But the prose was mediocre, and the humor felt very–well, performatively online, in a tiktok way? (This book started on tiktok and is a tiktok sensation, which makes sense). All in all, it didn’t land for me.
If I hadn’t been reading this book with friends, it would have solidly been a DNF for me. And while there is a sequel in the works, and I suspect my friends will do a group read again when it comes out, I will not be joining them.


