5 STARS | 3/5 CHILLIES

I HAVE A PROBLEM.

Apparently, I have developed romantic feelings for a house.

Yes, you read that correctly. A HOUSE.

And before anybody suggests I need professional help, allow me to explain.

I picked up What Thorne Hall Remembers by Elise Marchant, expecting a deliciously dark gothic romance. An old mansion, mysterious people, family secrets, a little magic, and enough atmosphere to make me reconsider walking down a corridor alone.

Perfect. Exactly my kind of book.

What I didn’t expect was to spend the following hours worrying about the emotional well-being of the building itself.

Good grief, Elise!

Thorne Hall has more personality than some people I’ve known for twenty years. I swear that house could have its own Instagram account, and I’d probably follow it.

I absolutely LOVED the atmosphere. The cold, the shadows, the silence, the feeling that something is happening just beyond what you can see. Elise describes everything so beautifully that I could practically feel myself wandering through those rooms.

Would I spend a night there?

Absolutely.

Would I sleep?

NOT A CHANCE.

And then we have the characters.

Oh, these people!

I wanted to hug them, shake them, occasionally lock them in a room together, and refuse to open the door until they had an honest conversation.

Seriously, people. COMMUNICATION!

I guess the problem in any relationship is always communication; it gets me every book, and I always complain about it. The secret is that I love miscommunication. In books, just in books, of course.

But that’s also what made me care about them. They’re complicated, stubborn, imperfect, and carrying enough emotional baggage to require their own moving company.

I particularly enjoyed how the story takes its time revealing its secrets. Little things appear along the way, details you almost overlook, and later you realise they were important all along.

I LOVE THAT.

I love an author who trusts me to pay attention rather than explaining everything as though I’m attending a compulsory training session at work.

And the romance?

Beautifully slow, emotional, and just spicy enough to remind us that we’re all adults here.

Three chillies from me.

Although, to be fair, I was so invested in everything else that the romance could have taken a tea break, and I would still have been happily reading.

There’s also something very touching beneath all the darkness. The book made me think about memories, mistakes, the things we wish we could undo, and how difficult it can be to forgive, especially when the person we’re struggling to forgive is ourselves.

Now, THAT is something I appreciate in a story.

And can we please discuss Bramble?

Because apparently an emotionally complicated gothic mansion wasn’t enough. Elise also decided to give me a little dog to worry about.

Woman, I have five dogs at home. I already have enough anxiety about small creatures!

By the time I reached the final chapters, I was completely invested. I wanted answers, I wanted happiness, I wanted certain people to behave themselves for five bloody minutes, and I wanted that house to receive whatever architectural equivalent of a nice warm hug exists.

And when I finished?

I smiled.

That lovely, satisfied smile you get when you close a book and realise you’ve genuinely enjoyed spending time inside its world.

Was I occasionally impatient with the characters? Of course. I’m Italian. Patience was never going to be my greatest contribution to humanity.

But I loved the slow unfolding of the story, the gothic atmosphere, the emotional complexity, and the way everything eventually came together.

FIVE STARS.

For making me fall in love with a mansion, for giving me characters I cared about, for the mystery, the romance, the wonderfully atmospheric writing, and for making the hours disappear.

If you enjoy gothic romance, old houses, secrets, magic, slow burns, and stories that leave you emotionally attached to things made of bricks and mortar, I think you’ll enjoy this one.