Haggard House is everything I crave in a gothic novel—decay, obsession, secrets, and a house that feels more alive than the people trapped inside it.

From the first page, the atmosphere wraps around you like a velvet curtain soaked in rain. The writing is lush, eerie, and cinematic. Rhoads masterfully crafts a slow burn of psychological tension that builds and cracks like the portrait on the cover. Every creaking floorboard and candlelit hallway is saturated with dread and memory.

The protagonist is haunted not only by the house, but by grief, guilt, and generational trauma. The way the past and present collide is chilling and beautifully executed. I didn’t want to leave, even when the shadows got too close.

If you love Rebecca, The Haunting of Hill House, or The Little Stranger, Haggard House deserves a place on your gothic TBR. I closed the book and immediately wanted to reread it—just to feel the unease again. Check your trigger warnings 

Final thoughts: Atmospheric, haunting, and utterly absorbing. Haggard House isn’t just a setting—it’s a character, and one you won’t forget.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.