Haunted Ever After

I’ll admit, I side-eyed the premise at first—*another* ghost romance? But *Haunted Ever After* won me over by committing hard to its weirdness. The ghost in Cassie’s house isn’t a moody specter with a tragic backstory; he’s a snarky, boundary-ignoring nuisance who feels like a cross between a nosy neighbor and a TikTok comment section. That balance of humor and heart is where DeLuca excels. The romance, meanwhile, is a slow burn with actual friction: Cassie and the coffee shop owner (whose name I won’t spoil, but imagine if Batman ran a café and hated small talk) have chemistry that’s 30% sexual tension, 70% mutual annoyance. It’s refreshing to hear a love story where the leads don’t instantly adore each other. Sheneman’s performance elevates the material, especially in group scenes—her ability to switch between Cassie’s exasperation, the ghost’s smugness, and the town’s eccentric locals is impressive. My only critique? The pacing drags slightly in the middle, when the ghost’s backstory takes center stage. While it adds depth, the shift from snappy banter to melancholy feels abrupt, like a podcast cutting to a sudden ad break. And while the steamy scenes sizzle, the audio mixing occasionally makes whispered dialogue hard to catch (pro tip: use headphones). Still, the payoff—a finale that’s equal parts sweet, spooky, and satisfying—makes it worth the ride. If you love romances where the setting is a character (and that character is a sun-bleached, ghost-infested mess), this is your next listen.