“I’m in your blood, and you are in mine…”

The Netherlands, 1887. Lucy’s twin sister Sarah is unwell. She refuses to eat, mumbles nonsensically, and is increasingly obsessed with a centuries-old corpse recently discovered on her husband’s grand estate. The doctor has diagnosed her with temporary insanity caused by a fever of the brain. To protect her twin from a terrible fate in a lunatic asylum, Lucy must unravel the mystery surrounding her sister’s condition, but it’s clear her twin is hiding something. Then again, Lucy is harboring secrets of her own, too.

Then, the worst happens. Sarah’s behavior takes a turn for the strange. She becomes angry… and hungry.

Lucy soon comes to suspect that something is trying to possess her beloved sister. Or is it madness? As Sarah changes before her very eyes, Lucy must reckon with the dark, monstrous truth, or risk losing her forever.

I have a confession. Based on the title alone, I fully expected this to be a vampire book. It’s not, but what I got instead was something weirder, darker, and honestly … better. I’m definitely not mad about it.

Set in the Netherlands in 1887, the story centers on Lucy and her twin sister, Sarah. Sarah has taken a sudden turn in health. She refuses to eat, she rambles about a recently discovered corpse on her husband’s estate, and seems to be rapidly slipping into what the doctors call “temporary insanity.” Lucy isn’t buying it. She suspects something else is going on. Something much darker.

I mentioned earlier that I thought this was going to be a vampire book and I stuck with that thought for a while, so the reveal of what was really happening with Sarah was a nice surprise. Even more of a surprise was the lengths to which Lucy was willing to go to save her.

The relationship between the sisters is (unsurprisingly) the heart of the book. It’s tense, intimate, and complicated in that way only twin bonds can be, especially when trauma, guilt, and mystery start to mix. The emotional stakes feel just as high as the supernatural ones, and that’s what gives the horror real teeth.

And speaking of horror, this book is gothic horror done right. It’s rich in atmosphere, unsettling in all the best ways, and filled with creeping dread that builds rather than blasts. I read My Darling Dreadful Thing by this author last year and enjoyed it, but this book felt tighter. The pacing is sharper, the tension more finely wound, and the horror is a lot more visceral.

And I do mean visceral. This book does not shy away from body horror. It gets gross. And while that’s usually not my favorite horror flavor (body horror and cannibalism are way up there on my personal ‘no thank you’ list), I have to admit—it works here. It’s not just there for shock value. It serves the story and genuinely adds to the growing unease. This one isn’t just gross though, it’s also emotional. We feel Lucy’s intense need to rescue her sister. There’s something deeply satisfying about a horror novel that isn’t afraid to be weird, messy, and a little bit sad.

Bonus points for the audiobook: I listened to an advance copy narrated by Emily Tucker and she was phenomenal. She captured the quiet tension, the emotional chaos, and the full descent into madness like a pro. If audiobooks are your thing, I’d say this one is absolutely worth the listen.

I would absolutely recommend this one to fans of gothic horror, body horror (in manageable doses), and anyone curating their Halloween TBR. It’s spooky, strange, emotionally rich, and just twisted enough to leave you slightly off-kilter. In other words: perfect for all my fellow weirdo horror lovers.

Book Club/Book Box: