Crone

I wanted to hate this book when it started. Eli Lamp, our protagonist, is a wreck—a man whose life has been a series of bad decisions and worse luck, and Rosson doesn’t give him the decency of a quick redemption arc or even a neat villain to blame. He just keeps falling, and the story keeps pulling him deeper into a mess of local legends and old sins. That could’ve been exhausting, but Rosson’s writing is so precise, so unflinching in its portrayal of despair, that it somehow becomes hypnotic instead of depressing. The narration, whoever their name is, nails the tone: a voice that’s equal parts weary and wary, like the narrator’s already seen what’s coming and is just waiting for you to catch up. My only real critique? The middle section sags a bit under the weight of its own dread—there’s a moment where it feels like the story’s stalling out, and I had to remind myself to keep going. But that’s part of the point, isn’t it? A good horror story shouldn’t rush you toward the light. By the time the final act unspools—messy, brutal, and completely unexpected—I was hooked. If you want a horror story that feels like a bad dream you can��t wake up from, this is it. If you want easy answers, look elsewhere.