Arthur Oakes is a reader, a dreamer, and a student at Rackham College, Maine, renowned for its frosty winters, exceptional library, and beautiful buildings. But his idyll—and burgeoning romance with Gwen Underfoot—is shattered when a local drug dealer and her partner corner him into one of the worst crimes he can imagine: stealing rare books from the college library.

Trapped and desperate, Arthur turns to his closest friends for comfort and help. Together they dream up a wild, fantastical scheme to free Arthur from the cruel trap in which he finds himself. Wealthy, irrepressible Colin Wren suggests using the unnerving Crane journal (bound in the skin of its author) to summon a dragon to do their bidding. The others—brave, beautiful Alison Shiner; the battling twins Donna and Donovan McBride; and brainy, bold Gwen—don’t hesitate to join Colin in an effort to smash reality and bring a creature of the impossible into our world.

But there’s nothing simple about dealing with dragons, and their pact to save Arthur becomes a terrifying bargain in which the six must choose a new sacrifice for King Sorrow every year—or become his next meal.

I read Joe Hill’s “The Fireman” several years ago and absolutely devoured it, so I was really looking forward to this one. This thing is massive at nearly 900 pages. And somehow, miraculously, it never drags. Not once. I tore through it over three days and felt genuinely sad when I reached the end. That’s always the sign of something great.

The concept alone is catnip for me. A group of college friends, a desperate situation, forbidden magic, and a dragon summoned through a deeply unsettling ritual. What else could you want? But what really makes this book work isn’t just the high-concept horror. It’s the characters. Joe Hill knows how to write relationships that feel lived-in, complicated, and emotionally real. These friendships aren’t glossy or idealized. They’re messy. They’re loyal. They fracture under pressure. And they still somehow hold.

Arthur Oakes is easy to root for from the start. He’s bookish, gentle, and in over his head with some really terrible people. The crime he’s forced into feels claustrophobic and cruel, and his fear is palpable. Watching him turn to his friends for help is what sets the entire story in motion, and every choice that follows feels inevitable and horrifying all at once.

The friend group is fantastic. Each character has a distinct voice and presence, and none of them feel interchangeable. Even the characters who are objectively awful are written with such care that I found myself fascinated by them. There were moments where I caught myself rooting for people I absolutely should not have been rooting for. That says something about the quality of writing here!

The dragon itself—King Sorrow—is terrifying in a quiet, existential way. This isn’t a creature you can bargain with safely. Every deal has weight. Every solution costs something real. The annual sacrifice requirement gives the story a ticking clock that never lets up, even during the quieter moments. There’s always a sense of dread humming beneath the surface.

And let’s talk about pacing. For a book this long, the structure is rock solid. The story unfolds in layers, with tension constantly tightening. No section overstays its welcome. No subplot feels indulgent. Every piece matters. The writing is confident and sharp, and Hill knows exactly when to linger and when to cut away.
There is one section in particular that takes place on a plane that absolutely floored me. I won’t say anything more than that, because going in blind is part of what makes it work. But that stretch of the book is burned into my brain. It’s pure cinematic horror. I could see every frame. I could feel the panic. That alone sold me on the idea that this story would translate beautifully to the screen. And yes, I want this as an HBO miniseries. Not a movie. A full, sprawling, prestige adaptation that lets the characters breathe and the horror sink in slowly. The material is perfect for it.

I also need to give serious credit to the audiobook. This is not a short listen, and the only reason I was able to move through it as quickly as I did was because the production is excellent. Ari Fliakos anchors the narration with a strong, engaging performance, and the supporting cast adds texture and emotional punch where it counts. If you love audiobooks, this one is absolutely worth your time.

I found this book to be rich, complex, funny in unexpected places, and genuinely thrilling. It’s about friendship, fear, power, and what happens when we get in over our heads. It’s absolutely brilliant and I can’t recommend it enough.