Review: Malice House by Megan Shepherd

Malice House by Megan Shepherd

Blurb from Goodreads:

YOU CAN'T KEEP OUT WHAT'S ALREADY INSIDE

“One step away from our world lies another: a land of violent fantasies, of sharp-toothed delights. . . .”

Of all the things aspiring artist Haven Marbury expected to find while clearing out her late father’s remote seaside house, Bedtime Stories for Monsters was not it. This secret handwritten manuscript is disturbingly different from his Pulitzer-winning works: its interweaving short stories crawl with horrific monsters and enigmatic humans that exist somewhere between this world and the next. The stories unsettle but also entice Haven, practically compelling her to illustrate them while she stays in the house that her father warned her was haunted―clearly just dementia whispering in his ear.

Reeling from a failed marriage, Haven hopes an illustrated Bedtime Stories can be the lucrative posthumous father-daughter collaboration she desperately needs to jump-start her art career. However, everyone in the nearby vacation town wants a piece of the manuscript: her father’s obsessive literary salon members, the Ink Drinkers; her mysterious yet charming neighbor, who has a tendency toward 3:00 a.m. bonfires; a young barista with a literary forgery business; and of course, whoever keeps trying to break into her house. But when a monstrous creature appears under Haven’s bed right as grisly deaths are reported in the nearby woods, it’s clear she is about to uncover dark, otherworldly family secrets―and completely rewrite everything she ever knew about herself.

 This started off interesting but devolved about 60% in -- the suspension of disbelief and plot points left unexplained just didn't work for me.  It was still interesting and I liked the MC but I think it could have gone so many other places.  Definitely a bit of a mix of thriller and horror -- hope you have better luck!

Malice House comes out next week on October 4, 2022 and you can purchase HERE.  

The bell on the door to Lundie Bay Books chimed as I pushed it open. Entering a bookstore always reminded me of stepping into another world. It didn't matter where you started--you could be on cobblestone streets of a Greek island or the blustery sidewalk of Chicago's Est Side, but the moment you stepped across the threshold, you might as well have been stepping into every bookstore They all held the same feel, the same smells. Ink, paper--like dry tea leaves.