Alert! Bog horror, bog horror!

Okay, now that that's out of my system, let's talk about Emma, our seventeen-year-old protagonist who’s basically living my worst nightmare: stuck in a creaky old house in Maine next to a bog called the Moss that’s so eerie it might as well have its own horror movie soundtrack. I mean, a misty, sinister bog? That’s the kind of place where I’d lose my favorite scrunchie and my sanity in one go. Emma’s dealing with ghosts—literal and figurative—because her sister vanished into this bog, and her mom disappeared too. The vibes? Straight-up gothic, like if Jane Eyre got lost in a Stephen King novel. I was hooked. 

Lueddecke’s writing is where this book shines like a full moon on a foggy night. It’s lush, atmospheric, and so vivid I could practically smell the peat and hear the creak of that haunted house. I read most of this curled up on my recliner, and I swear I kept glancing at my windows expecting to see some shadowy figure staring back. The way she weaves the bond between Emma and her missing sister had me tearing up—ugh, my heart! It’s like, I wanted to hug Emma and also maybe sage the entire house for her. Sisterly love wrapped in creeping dread? Yes, please.

It’s a slow burn, and I mean ~slow~. Like, I get it, we’re building tension, but sometimes I was like, “Emma, girl, can we speed-run this ghost hunt? I have laundry to do.” The horror elements are deliciously spooky, but a few jump-scares felt like they were trying too hard, like a Halloween pop-up store animatronic. Still, when the chills hit, they hit.

What I loved most, though, was how the story felt like a long-lost fable, all rich and dreamy. It’s not just a ghost story; it’s about grief, family, and facing your fears. I was rooting for Emma so hard,  though I won’t lie, I wanted a birmore closure. Like, throw me a bone, Lisa, I’m emotionally invested here!

The Moss is a gorgeous, spooky read that’s perfect for anyone who loves a good haunted house tale with heart or a good bog horror (yes, that is a genre!). I could’ve done with one less “what was that shadow?” moment, but it’s so atmospheric and heartfelt I couldn’t put it down. Read it, love it, and maybe don’t go near any bogs, swamps, marshes, or fens afterward. 

(Yes, I was googling the differences between wetlands halfway through this novel).