After an accident that nearly kills her, Emily and her husband, Freddie, move from London to a beautiful Dartmoor country house called Larkin Lodge. The house is gorgeous, striking—and to Emily, something about it feels deeply wrong. Old boards creak at night; fires extinguish; and books fall from the shelves—all of it stemming from the terrible presence she feels in the third-floor room.

But these things happen only when Emily is alone, so are they happening at all? She is still medically fragile. Her post-sepsis condition can cause hallucinatory side effects, which means she cannot fully trust her senses. Freddie does not notice anything odd and is happy with their chance at a fresh start. She, however, starts to believe the house is haunted by someone who had been murdered in it even though she can find no evidence of a wrongful death. As bizarre events pile up and her marriage starts to crumble, Emily becomes obsessed with discovering the truth about Larkin Lodge. But just as the house has secrets so do Emily and her husband.

Sometimes the best reading experiences happen when you go in blind. That was the case with this book. I’d read the synopsis months ago when I bought it, then promptly forgot the details. All I remembered was that it was supposed to be creepy, and trust me when I say it absolutely delivered.

From the first chapter, this one had me hooked. The atmosphere is pure Gothic horror: a sprawling house in the English countryside, a marriage under strain, strange noises in the dark, and a woman questioning her own sanity. It’s the kind of setup I can never resist. The story follows Emily and her husband, Freddie, as they move from London to a stately but unsettling country home called Larkin Lodge. It’s supposed to be a fresh start after Emily had a fall and was in a coma for several months while battling and nearly dying from sepsis. Emily thought her near-death experience was bad. That’s nothing compared to what the house has in store for her.

It’s not long before Emily begins to notice strange things. Fires extinguish on their own. Books tumble from shelves. A cold presence lingers in the third-floor room. But the real question is whether any of it is actually happening. Her illness and medication can cause hallucinations, and Freddie doesn’t see or hear a thing. Is the house haunted? Is Emily losing her grip? Or is something even more sinister at play?

That uncertainty is where the book shines. Pinborough masterfully builds tension without overplaying the supernatural angle. Every creak, every flicker of movement, carries weight because you can never be sure what’s real. I found myself second-guessing everyone, and that’s exactly what I want from a psychological Gothic thriller.

The Poe inspiration is also woven in beautifully. The most obvious nod is to The Raven, but I caught flashes of The Tell-Tale Heart and The Fall of the House of Usher too. It’s not a retelling, though, so don’t go in expecting that. It’s more like the author pulled from Poe’s favorite tropes: guilt, madness, decay, and the haunting power of love and death, and dropped them into her own story. The result is familiar yet original.

I also loved that every twist felt earned. Pinborough doesn’t rely on cheap shock value or misdirection. When the reveals came, they made perfect sense, but I still didn’t see them coming. That’s such a satisfying feeling as a reader who almost always figured out what is going on very early in the book.

I also appreciated how layered Emily’s character felt. She’s unreliable but sympathetic. You can feel her desperation to be believed, her exhaustion from both physical illness and emotional neglect. Freddie, on the other hand, is the kind of husband you can’t quite figure out. Is he loving or manipulative? Supportive or hiding something? The shifting dynamic between them keeps the story taut.

On a purely sensory level, this book is nearly perfect. The writing has that lush, slightly decadent quality that fits the Gothic tone so well. You can practically feel the damp chill of Dartmoor, hear the echo of footsteps in long, empty halls. It’s a story that seeps into your skin.

By the end, I was completely sold. It has everything I love about Gothic fiction, modernized without losing that classic edge. It’s dark and tragic, but also deeply human. This easily became one of my favorite reads of the month. If you’re in the mood for a haunting story that plays with your sense of reality and pays homage to Poe while doing something fresh, this is definitely the one to pick up.