Roser Park

I’ll admit, I side-eyed the premise at first: *divorced woman takes a dog-sitting job in a creepy rich neighborhood*—how original, right? But *Roser Park* subverts expectations at every turn. Dalrymple’s writing is lean and vicious, with a knack for turning mundane details (a half-finished crossword, a neighbor’s overly polite wave) into something unsettling. The horror isn’t in jump scares but in the slow realization that Charlotte’s fresh start is just another cage, this one gilded with Spanish moss and old money. Xenia Willacey’s performance is *exceptional*—she makes Charlotte’s dark humor land without undercutting the dread, and her delivery of the more surreal passages (especially the scenes with the house’s… *residents*) sent chills down my spine. My only critique? The pacing stumbles slightly in the second act, where the tension plateaus just a beat too long before the finale’s glorious unraveling. And while the ending is satisfyingly ambiguous, I wished for one more layer of psychological depth to Charlotte’s motivations—her choices sometimes feel more plot-driven than character-driven. Still, the audiobook’s production is flawless: the sound design is subtle (a distant lawnmower, the hum of an air conditioner) but immersive, never overpowering the text. For fans of *Mexican Gothic*’s social horror or *The Haunting of Hill House*’s psychological unraveling, this is a must-listen—just don’t start it before bed.