Every year around this time, with the leaves turning and
pumpkins making their way into stores, I find myself craving ghost
stories. Stories that make you want to sleep with the lights on and
double-check the locks on the doors and windows when the slightest
sound is heard. Stephen M. Irwin deftly accomplishes both in his
debut novel.
Nicholas Close is living his dream life in London. He has a
beautiful wife, they’re renovating their new home together,
and he has a job he enjoys. When a sudden and tragic accident takes
his wife’s life, he can’t get past the devastation, the
collapse of their dreams, and the downward spiral of his life. One
other problem he’s having that he would do anything to
escape: he’s seeing ghosts. Not just simple hauntings, like
socks going missing and found in odd places, but the last violent
moments of people’s lives over and over like a movie he
can’t shut off. Everywhere he goes they appear, making him
wonder if he’s losing his mind.
Nicholas makes the decision to move back to his native Australia
with the hope of starting fresh. His hometown doesn’t have
much to offer, but it was home many years ago, and what he’s
looking for is a clean slate that his small town can provide. His
mother, never a very affectionate person, welcomes him home rather
half-heartedly, but he’s fine with the reception, not
expecting much more than the cup of tea she offers. His sister, a
mother and successful business woman, decides to visit him as well,
and Nicholas finds in her a kindred spirit of sorts. She
understands about the ghosts and reveals a small secret: their
long-dead father believed in witchcraft, and she herself is a
follower.
When a child disappears into the woods that have long haunted
Nicholas, he starts to see and hear things that he knows
can’t be possi