Itch!
By Gemma Amor
Something moves on the forest floor . . .
Josie is at rock bottom. Burned out, heartbroken and recovering from an abusive relationship, she lives a haunted existence after returning to her isolated hometown on the edge of the Forest of Dean.
But the tall, dense pine trees are not the only things casting shadows across her skin.
Josie’s hopes of a fresh start are horribly derailed when she stumbles across a dead woman’s decaying, ant-infested body in the woods. The grim discovery sends her into a downward spiral, forcing her to face uncomfortable truths about the victim and her own past – all whilst battling the swarming black ants that seem to have burrowed into her mind . . . and her flesh.
As Josie struggles with infestations of all kinds, she scratches the surface of an age-old mystery – a masked predator stalks the forest around Ellwood, a place deeply gripped by ancient folklore and strange customs. So when the village dresses up for its annual festival, Josie gets closer and closer to unveiling a monster, and begins to ask
Are these dark crawling insects leading her to uncover the truth?
Or is she their next victim?
My thoughts:
This is a sharp little horror-thriller that digs into trauma, grief, and survival while still delivering plenty of skin-crawling moments. I went into this expecting something quick and creepy, and while it absolutely delivers on that front, there’s more going on beneath the surface than I anticipated.
The story follows Josie, who is very much at rock bottom. She’s recovering from a physically abusive relationship, mourning the loss of her mother, and trying to survive life with a distant, emotionally damaging father. Returning to her isolated hometown on the edge of the Forest of Dean is meant to be a fresh start, but it quickly becomes clear that the past isn’t finished with her. Josie is a deeply sympathetic protagonist. Her fear, exhaustion, and self-doubt feel real, and the book does a good job portraying how trauma lingers long after the immediate danger has passed.
Things take a sharp turn when Josie stumbles across a dead woman in the woods. The body is decaying and infested with ants, and from that moment on, the story slips into something far more disturbing. Josie begins to feel as though ants and bugs are inhabiting her body, crawling beneath her skin and into her thoughts. If body horror isn’t your thing, I’ll say this upfront. There isn’t a lot of it here. The imagery is creepy, yes, but it never tips into excess. The insects serve a purpose beyond shock value and are essential to the story being told.
One of the book’s strengths is its use of symbolism. The infestation mirrors Josie’s internal state, the way trauma burrows into your mind and refuses to be ignored. The ants are unsettling, but they’re also meaningful. The horror is as psychological as it is physical, which made the story far more effective for me.
I also really enjoyed the way folklore is woven throughout the narrative. Ellwood is steeped in ancient traditions, rituals, and customs that have been carried on unquestioned for generations. The book explores how “tradition” can be used as a shield, masking cruelty, violence, and deeply ingrained misogyny. There’s a constant sense that something old and rotten is lurking beneath the village’s surface, hiding in plain sight.
What worked particularly well is the uncertainty surrounding the central mystery. For a good portion of the book, it’s unclear whether Josie is dealing with something paranormal, a human predator, or the lingering effects of trauma and grief. That ambiguity keeps the tension high. You’re on this journey with Josie, questioning your own assumptions as much as she does, until the truth of who or what killed the woman in the woods is finally revealed. I’ll admit that I figured out what was really going on fairly early. That said, it didn’t lessen my enjoyment at all. The satisfaction here isn’t about a shocking twist. It’s about watching the pieces fall into place and seeing Josie reclaim her agency in the process.
This book is creepy, smart, and emotionally grounded. It tackles abuse, loss, and survival with care while still delivering effective horror. If you like folklore-infused thrillers, symbolic horror, and stories that blur the line between psychological and physical terror, this one is well worth your time.
