Death in the Haunted Wood by Kim Griswell is the kind of book that lures you in with the promise of cozy fall vibes and then smacks you upside the head with murder. And I say that with love. Huge thanks to Storm Publishing and NetGalley for my gifted ARC—I was not prepared for how badly I needed a Halloween-themed mystery involving an aging horror star, a spooky campground, and a sarcastic children’s book author turned reluctant sleuth.
Here’s the setup: Saffi Graywood, widowed writer of the wildly successful Aunt Saffi’s Bedtime Reader series, is hiding out in her RV somewhere along the Oregon coast, supposedly working on her next book. In reality, she’s ignoring deadlines, sipping hot drinks, and minding her own business—until a friend ropes her into helping Malcolm Morton, a retired horror movie icon with a flair for drama and a sudden stalker problem. Malcolm’s planning the grand reopening of an abandoned campground-slash-theme park called “The Haunted Wood,” which sounds perfectly normal if you’re into derelict animatronics and fog machines operated by unpaid theater kids.
But someone’s not thrilled about this comeback. Malcolm’s been receiving creepy, vintage Halloween postcards—each one more threatening than the last—and when a body turns up beneath the dock, Saffi finds herself in yet another murder mystery she did not ask for. Because of course she does.
The town is picturesque, the locals are weird, and the suspects are exactly the kind of people you hope to encounter in a cozy mystery: a sheriff who clearly knows more than he’s saying, a too-helpful campground manager, some intense costumed guests, and enough passive-aggressive tension to fuel a murder weapon or two. Everyone’s got secrets, everyone’s got motive, and somehow Saffi’s chai supply is always running low at the worst possible moment.
Griswell nails the tone here—sharp, warm, atmospheric, with a touch of noir peeking through the autumn leaves. The pacing is just right: not so slow you’re yawning between chapters, not so fast that it feels like a Scooby-Doo chase scene. And Saffi? I’d absolutely follow her into another murder. She’s clever, emotionally guarded, appropriately skeptical of everyone she meets, and exactly the kind of woman who would rather ask snarky follow-up questions than politely ignore a lie. Relatable.
The real draw, though, is the setting. Griswell paints the Oregon coast like a postcard soaked in fog and secrets. Every scene is dripping in atmosphere: mist rolling through the evergreens, jack-o’-lanterns flickering on cabin porches, the faint scent of woodsmoke and cinnamon in the air. If you’re the type who puts up Halloween decorations before the first leaf falls, this book is your aesthetic on paper.
And the mystery? Surprisingly layered. The murder isn’t just a plot device—it’s a puzzle, and a good one. Clues are dropped like breadcrumbs, but Griswell doesn’t make it too easy. You’ll have your list of suspects, and you’ll change your mind at least three times. I had a working theory halfway through that was very satisfying to be wrong about.
One standout quote that sums up the book’s vibe perfectly:
“The Haunted Wood may be reopening, but something in the shadows never closed.”
Tell me that’s not the perfect tagline for a murder mystery set in a foggy Halloween wonderland. Go on, I’ll wait.
Also, can we talk about the Halloween Spooktacular? It’s everything: costumed chaos, themed drinks, suspicious party guests, a performance from a man who peaked in 1973, and a killer lurking just out of frame. It’s like Knives Out met Hocus Pocus at a campground and brought murder as a plus-one.
This is book two in the Pacific Northwest Cozy Mystery series, but it stands alone just fine. That said, you’ll absolutely want to go back and read book one once you’re done. Saffi’s character arc is subtle but strong, especially in how she’s navigating grief without being swallowed by it. She’s not your standard sunshine-and-scones cozy heroine—she’s real, a little rough around the edges, and genuinely fun to read.
If you’re the kind of reader who wants high-stakes murder but refuses to give up fall comfort in the process, this is your book. It’s the literary equivalent of wearing a chunky sweater to a crime scene: warm, moody, slightly unhinged, and stylishly practical.
Five stars. No notes. Except maybe “bring a flashlight” if you’re reading at night.
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