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Home Sick
Not yet published
Expected 14 Jul 26“The symmetry should have tipped me off.”
After a violent incident at work, Tamsin goes looking for a fresh start in a remote cottage far away from her old life. Here she could make real friends, find a job she loves, become a whole new person, even.
But the solitary cottage is actually a semi-detached, with only a thin wall separating her from a total stranger. Her neighbour is an enigma. Dowdy one moment, vivacious the next, but always wearing an unnerving smile. Tamsin can’t shake the feeling that there’s something wrong with her, especially when she starts experiencing disturbances in her own home.
As the locals share strange stories about her house, and her barely contained paranoia spirals out of control, Tamsin begins to suspect that the past she was so desperate to escape might never let her go.
After a violent incident at work, Tamsin goes looking for a fresh start in a remote cottage far away from her old life. Here she could make real friends, find a job she loves, become a whole new person, even.
But the solitary cottage is actually a semi-detached, with only a thin wall separating her from a total stranger. Her neighbour is an enigma. Dowdy one moment, vivacious the next, but always wearing an unnerving smile. Tamsin can’t shake the feeling that there’s something wrong with her, especially when she starts experiencing disturbances in her own home.
As the locals share strange stories about her house, and her barely contained paranoia spirals out of control, Tamsin begins to suspect that the past she was so desperate to escape might never let her go.
288 pages, Paperback
Expected publication July 14, 2026
About the author
Rhiannon Grist
10 books14 followersRhiannon A Grist is an award-winning author of Weird, Dark and Speculative fiction. Her dark fantasy / folk horror 'The Queen of the High Fields' (Luna Press) won Best Novella at the 2023 British Fantasy Awards.
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March 5, 2026I blurbed this one!
"Just as each person can hold multitudes, Home Sick manages to be both creepy and comforting, dark and delightful, sweet and strange. It is beyond a shadow of a doubt one of the best horror books you can pick up in 2026 and beyond."
"Just as each person can hold multitudes, Home Sick manages to be both creepy and comforting, dark and delightful, sweet and strange. It is beyond a shadow of a doubt one of the best horror books you can pick up in 2026 and beyond."
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April 6, 2026literary folk horror by way of weird girl fiction - this scary story is a heartbreaking character study of isolation, rage, and painful reckoning with oneself.
lifelong misfit tamsin has fled to the scottish countryside in the wake of a mysterious incident at work. moving into one half of a duplex on the outskirts of a cozy village, she's determined to make a fresh start and leave her old self behind.
i wasn't expecting this horror novel to feel like so-called "weird girl fiction," which has become wildly popular within its own niche. but i suppose we could call this weird girl horror, because at the center of the narrative is tamsin's necessary confrontation of how painful it is to be the weird girl, to know that you are unlikable, to watch yourself in social interactions and know that you are being perceived badly, but to be powerless to transform into someone more "normal."
very early on, i wondered if tamsin was intentionally written as autistic. she has an acute sense of shame, engages in rote self-criticism, admits that she is guarded and prone to black-and-white thinking, and experiences social alienation and rejection sensitive dysphoria.
tamsin also struggles to mask in social situations, and she falls into detailed fantasies of different, more likable selves that she wishes she could be and human connections she wishes she could have. i kept waiting for the text to acknowledge that these are major neurodivergent experiences! and i'm extremely curious to know whether a neurodivergent angle was intended by the author. with this autistic reading, the book feels profoundly sad.
okay, as for the horror - there are some truly terrifying moments, including one dread-inducing shock that made me GASP. as is acknowledged in the text, there's something fundamentally alarming to the human brain when we encounter dark doubles, doppelgängers, misbehaving shadows.
the sense of fear is dropped here and there when we go deep into tamsin's introspective inner monologue, but there is an unceasing tone of dread and powerlessness.
there's also a delicious touch of scottish folklore, with the potential of fae inflicting their surreal horror on those who dare to occupy the house built on their hollow hill.
the pacing is inconsistent - there were parts where i couldn't put the book down, and other times where it felt plodding. i do think the first section is the strongest, seeped with expertly crafted tension and the uncanny terror of not trusting your own mind or the place that's supposed to be a safe space. the middle is rather slow, and toward the end there's a series of trippy, reality-bending sequences that really push the limits of fever dreams.
ultimately this is an excellent character study of a deeply lonely person, wracked with anger and trying her best to become someone she likes better. when she finds that this fundamental change is impossible, she instead must learn to hold her most hated parts of herself, her own dark shadow.
the final chapter ties everything up with a tidy little bow, but it feels right for this cathartic story. tamsin's deep inner turmoil and scathing self hatred have finally been soothed.
Thank you to NetGalley and Rebellion / Solaris for providing me with a copy of this book in return for an honest review.
lifelong misfit tamsin has fled to the scottish countryside in the wake of a mysterious incident at work. moving into one half of a duplex on the outskirts of a cozy village, she's determined to make a fresh start and leave her old self behind.
i wasn't expecting this horror novel to feel like so-called "weird girl fiction," which has become wildly popular within its own niche. but i suppose we could call this weird girl horror, because at the center of the narrative is tamsin's necessary confrontation of how painful it is to be the weird girl, to know that you are unlikable, to watch yourself in social interactions and know that you are being perceived badly, but to be powerless to transform into someone more "normal."
very early on, i wondered if tamsin was intentionally written as autistic. she has an acute sense of shame, engages in rote self-criticism, admits that she is guarded and prone to black-and-white thinking, and experiences social alienation and rejection sensitive dysphoria.
tamsin also struggles to mask in social situations, and she falls into detailed fantasies of different, more likable selves that she wishes she could be and human connections she wishes she could have. i kept waiting for the text to acknowledge that these are major neurodivergent experiences! and i'm extremely curious to know whether a neurodivergent angle was intended by the author. with this autistic reading, the book feels profoundly sad.
okay, as for the horror - there are some truly terrifying moments, including one dread-inducing shock that made me GASP. as is acknowledged in the text, there's something fundamentally alarming to the human brain when we encounter dark doubles, doppelgängers, misbehaving shadows.
the sense of fear is dropped here and there when we go deep into tamsin's introspective inner monologue, but there is an unceasing tone of dread and powerlessness.
there's also a delicious touch of scottish folklore, with the potential of fae inflicting their surreal horror on those who dare to occupy the house built on their hollow hill.
the pacing is inconsistent - there were parts where i couldn't put the book down, and other times where it felt plodding. i do think the first section is the strongest, seeped with expertly crafted tension and the uncanny terror of not trusting your own mind or the place that's supposed to be a safe space. the middle is rather slow, and toward the end there's a series of trippy, reality-bending sequences that really push the limits of fever dreams.
ultimately this is an excellent character study of a deeply lonely person, wracked with anger and trying her best to become someone she likes better. when she finds that this fundamental change is impossible, she instead must learn to hold her most hated parts of herself, her own dark shadow.
the final chapter ties everything up with a tidy little bow, but it feels right for this cathartic story. tamsin's deep inner turmoil and scathing self hatred have finally been soothed.
Thank you to NetGalley and Rebellion / Solaris for providing me with a copy of this book in return for an honest review.
April 1, 2026
Thank you to Rebellion and Solaris for providing this ARC for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
Home Sick by Rhiannon Grist is a folk-horror story that follows Tamsin, a frantic woman looking for a fresh start in her life following a violent incident at her workplace. She purchases a house sight unseen in the Scottish country side, but it’s far from the pastoral respite she’s been looking for. Her discomfort in the new home goes from bad to worse when she starts feeling like something is deeply amiss with her neighbor and her new home.
The best and worst thing about Home Sick was how vividly and successfully Grist builds the character of Tamsin. She is angry, paranoid, jealous, unreasonable, and filled with righteous indignation. She seems to have never met a person she didn’t have a judgmental thought about. This is one of the most unlikeable characters I’ve ever read. She sour, vindictive, and deeply insulted by the existence of others. If you really vibe with Moshfegh’s weird girl main characters, you’ll find her to be engaging. However, she’s so tediously horrible for the first 80% of the book that after a certain point I stopped caring about whether she’d find personal growth. Instead, I hoped a chunk of plaster would bop her on the head and finish the job. I’d say that Tamsin is decidedly well written but also unpleasant.
The book isn’t all that scary, except that it begs for a lot of self reflection (which people really hate, I guess.) It’s listed as horror, but except for some spooky house bits and a smattering of gore, it’s not all that scary. I’d say that this is more of a modern adult fairytale than anything else, moral included. I think the author does a very good job at creating a modern tale of self-perception, self-discovery, and managing impotent anger. Even though there’s definitely a climax that’s framed in a morality lesson, it doesn’t feel overly preachy or heavy handed.
I did enjoy the overall concept of the story, especially the folklore and fairytale parallels. However, I do think the author created a protagonist so especially odious that I did find myself really disliking her and feeling disconnected from the story due to my feelings on Tamsin. 3.5/5, with a recommendation for those looking for a slightly more psychological, less gory horror option.
Home Sick by Rhiannon Grist is a folk-horror story that follows Tamsin, a frantic woman looking for a fresh start in her life following a violent incident at her workplace. She purchases a house sight unseen in the Scottish country side, but it’s far from the pastoral respite she’s been looking for. Her discomfort in the new home goes from bad to worse when she starts feeling like something is deeply amiss with her neighbor and her new home.
The best and worst thing about Home Sick was how vividly and successfully Grist builds the character of Tamsin. She is angry, paranoid, jealous, unreasonable, and filled with righteous indignation. She seems to have never met a person she didn’t have a judgmental thought about. This is one of the most unlikeable characters I’ve ever read. She sour, vindictive, and deeply insulted by the existence of others. If you really vibe with Moshfegh’s weird girl main characters, you’ll find her to be engaging. However, she’s so tediously horrible for the first 80% of the book that after a certain point I stopped caring about whether she’d find personal growth. Instead, I hoped a chunk of plaster would bop her on the head and finish the job. I’d say that Tamsin is decidedly well written but also unpleasant.
The book isn’t all that scary, except that it begs for a lot of self reflection (which people really hate, I guess.) It’s listed as horror, but except for some spooky house bits and a smattering of gore, it’s not all that scary. I’d say that this is more of a modern adult fairytale than anything else, moral included. I think the author does a very good job at creating a modern tale of self-perception, self-discovery, and managing impotent anger. Even though there’s definitely a climax that’s framed in a morality lesson, it doesn’t feel overly preachy or heavy handed.
I did enjoy the overall concept of the story, especially the folklore and fairytale parallels. However, I do think the author created a protagonist so especially odious that I did find myself really disliking her and feeling disconnected from the story due to my feelings on Tamsin. 3.5/5, with a recommendation for those looking for a slightly more psychological, less gory horror option.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
Rhiannon Grist understands that TRUE horror is: not remembering what you ranted about at the pub last night
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
3.5 rounded down
I liked this book, don't get me wrong! I just think it was doing somehow both too much and not enough the whole time. I thought the idea is really amazing, I loved the setting, and I thought the locals in the village were all fun and unique characters. Our main character, however, I found to be really, I don't know, inconsistent? It's hard to put my finger on exactly what didn't click with me about her.
But my main issue is with the execution of the story itself. The story really wanted to beat us over the head with doubles, mirrors, shadows, and Dolly the sheep, for some reason? There's something there in all that, it was just all a little too much. Even if we had just focused on mirrors, that would have been enough!
There's also the neighbor of it all. I really wanted more of the neighbor, we get like, two or three interactions before the big showdown. The story would have been much more effective to me if Tamsin had multiple weird encounters with her, but, oh well I guess. I just think I would have had a better time if the story leaned more into Scottish folklore and dark fairy tales.
One thing I will say in praise of the book is you have to wait and wait and WAIT to find out what Tamsin did and what she was running from and I absolutely loved it. You really had to work to find out what it was and it was WORTH IT! I feel like oftentimes a lot of books I read nowadays either give The Big Secret away too early OR make you wait until the very end and it was a nothingburger the whole time. (I'm looking at YOU Ruth Ware, when you wrote In a Dark, Dark Wood. I'll never forgive you.) I will absolutely be keeping this author on my radar to see what they come out with next.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for a free eARC in exchange for an honest review.
I liked this book, don't get me wrong! I just think it was doing somehow both too much and not enough the whole time. I thought the idea is really amazing, I loved the setting, and I thought the locals in the village were all fun and unique characters. Our main character, however, I found to be really, I don't know, inconsistent? It's hard to put my finger on exactly what didn't click with me about her.
But my main issue is with the execution of the story itself. The story really wanted to beat us over the head with doubles, mirrors, shadows, and Dolly the sheep, for some reason? There's something there in all that, it was just all a little too much. Even if we had just focused on mirrors, that would have been enough!
There's also the neighbor of it all. I really wanted more of the neighbor, we get like, two or three interactions before the big showdown. The story would have been much more effective to me if Tamsin had multiple weird encounters with her, but, oh well I guess. I just think I would have had a better time if the story leaned more into Scottish folklore and dark fairy tales.
One thing I will say in praise of the book is you have to wait and wait and WAIT to find out what Tamsin did and what she was running from and I absolutely loved it. You really had to work to find out what it was and it was WORTH IT! I feel like oftentimes a lot of books I read nowadays either give The Big Secret away too early OR make you wait until the very end and it was a nothingburger the whole time. (I'm looking at YOU Ruth Ware, when you wrote In a Dark, Dark Wood. I'll never forgive you.) I will absolutely be keeping this author on my radar to see what they come out with next.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for a free eARC in exchange for an honest review.
January 29, 2026
Tamsin did ~something bad~ at her copywriting job in Edinburgh, and flees to the countryside for a fresh start after purchasing a cottage sight unseen. When she arrives, she realizes that it’s actually duplex (the agent failed to mention that) and her neighbor is… off. Eventually she begins experiencing some ominously weird shit.
The hauntings & disturbances Tamsin experiences are based off of a Scottish folktale, which I am not familiar with so that was a fun aspect of the story! 75% in shit gets REALLLL spooky!!!! Normally that would bug me but it’s such a short book that it’s whatever, there was enough slightly spooky stuff sprinkled in throughout the first 75% of the book that it keeps you intrigued. The story has some underlying themes of self-discovery, vulnerability and personal growth which adds some depth to what otherwise would have just been a fun horror story. It’s a quick read, and I really enjoyed the mythology!
Thanks to NetGalley & Solaris (Rebellion Publishing) for the advanced copy in exchange for my honest review. This book will be published on July 14, 2026.
The hauntings & disturbances Tamsin experiences are based off of a Scottish folktale, which I am not familiar with so that was a fun aspect of the story! 75% in shit gets REALLLL spooky!!!! Normally that would bug me but it’s such a short book that it’s whatever, there was enough slightly spooky stuff sprinkled in throughout the first 75% of the book that it keeps you intrigued. The story has some underlying themes of self-discovery, vulnerability and personal growth which adds some depth to what otherwise would have just been a fun horror story. It’s a quick read, and I really enjoyed the mythology!
Thanks to NetGalley & Solaris (Rebellion Publishing) for the advanced copy in exchange for my honest review. This book will be published on July 14, 2026.
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March 9, 2026I think I need to sit on this for a while after reading it, because towards the end there were details I might have missed at first. Luckily I can say the book has a satisfactory ending, and some things that were unclear in the first half became easier to understand in the second half.
I liked the folklore inspiration and the eery descriptions, as well as the characterization. There are occasional displays of humour as well, and I always appreciate those in a grim, eerie book like this one.
I liked the folklore inspiration and the eery descriptions, as well as the characterization. There are occasional displays of humour as well, and I always appreciate those in a grim, eerie book like this one.
April 29, 2026
4⭐️ - Oh, what a fun read!
Tamsin is trying to outrun a pretty major mistake from her old life in Edinburgh, so she does what any slightly unhinged, desperate-for-a-fresh-start person might do and buys a cottage sight unseen in the countryside. Naturally, the estate agent forgot one tiny detail: it’s not actually a standalone cottage. It’s attached to another house, complete with a sealed basement door connecting them 🫣
From the start, there’s something off about the neighbour, and it doesn’t take long for things to get weird. Strange noises, objects shifting and that horrible feeling of being watched when you’re definitely alone. You’re never quite sure if this is supernatural, psychological, or Tamsin slowly unravelling in real time.
Parts of this felt like a fever dream (in a good way), very much an am I losing it or is she losing it situation. Tamsin isn’t exactly a reliable narrator, so you’re constantly questioning whether what she’s experiencing is real, imagined, or tangled up in whatever she’s desperately trying to leave behind.
There’s body horror, genuinely creepy imagery, and it all ties back to Scottish folklore, which made it feel fresh and a little different from your typical haunted house story. There’s also a strong thread of self-reflection, with Tamsin being forced to confront parts of herself she’d much rather keep buried.
A super bingeable read with a unique premise, some really cool folklore, and enough weirdness to keep things interesting. I really enjoyed this one!
Thank you to NetGalley, Rebellion and Solaris for the ARC!
Tamsin is trying to outrun a pretty major mistake from her old life in Edinburgh, so she does what any slightly unhinged, desperate-for-a-fresh-start person might do and buys a cottage sight unseen in the countryside. Naturally, the estate agent forgot one tiny detail: it’s not actually a standalone cottage. It’s attached to another house, complete with a sealed basement door connecting them 🫣
From the start, there’s something off about the neighbour, and it doesn’t take long for things to get weird. Strange noises, objects shifting and that horrible feeling of being watched when you’re definitely alone. You’re never quite sure if this is supernatural, psychological, or Tamsin slowly unravelling in real time.
Parts of this felt like a fever dream (in a good way), very much an am I losing it or is she losing it situation. Tamsin isn’t exactly a reliable narrator, so you’re constantly questioning whether what she’s experiencing is real, imagined, or tangled up in whatever she’s desperately trying to leave behind.
There’s body horror, genuinely creepy imagery, and it all ties back to Scottish folklore, which made it feel fresh and a little different from your typical haunted house story. There’s also a strong thread of self-reflection, with Tamsin being forced to confront parts of herself she’d much rather keep buried.
A super bingeable read with a unique premise, some really cool folklore, and enough weirdness to keep things interesting. I really enjoyed this one!
Thank you to NetGalley, Rebellion and Solaris for the ARC!
Want to Read
January 6, 2026NetGalley compares this to We Used to Live Here
I'm on board
I'm on board
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
This was an interesting read and I was very hyped to get my hands on a copy of Home Sick. Whilst I was really intrigued by the first 60% of the book, I found myself less interested in the latter 40%. The spooky elements alongside the mythology influences were great and made me want to continue reading to find out the ending. However I just wish the tension and horrors that the author was building to were delivered upon in the end - the climax of the story just fell flat for me.
February 8, 2026
Absolutely loved this! The characterization is so complex and the horror elements are perfectly done. The final gauntlet of facing herself was so spectacularly wrought and so deeply creepy. More than anything I was impressed by its thematic originality. I read a ton of haunted house stories and while many are excellent few have a truly original take. Tamsin’s character arc is unique, powerful, and believable.
March 13, 2026
4.5⭐
Home Sick by Rhiannon Grist is a beautifully written piece of folk/psychological horror that completely got under my skin & I flew through faster than I anticipated. Told in six parts, this story follows Tamsin, a woman who leaves behind her life in the city after a violent incident at work and relocates to the countryside in hopes of becoming someone new. What she finds instead is a place that feels wrong from the start, a house that seems to know too much, a neighbor who may or may not be what she appears, and a growing sense that no matter how far she runs, she can't outrun herself.
What I loved most about this book is how layered it is. On the surface, it’s eerie, isolating, and deeply unsettling, but underneath it all, there’s a story about identity, shame, anger, reinvention, and the impossible task of trying to sever yourself from the parts of you that feel ugly or dangerous. Tamsin is most definitely not always likable (which some people may not care for), but she IS fascinating. Her loneliness, her instability, and her desperate desire to become a different version of herself made her feel painfully real. Though some may say this is a creepy/haunted house read, the true horror IMO isn’t just the house but rather what happens when a person is forced to confront the shadow self they’ve spent years trying to bury.
The folk elements worked so well for me too. TBH I’m not a huge folk-horror fan, HOWEVER, this may be an exception. The countryside setting has that deceptive cottagecore softness to it at first, but Grist turns it into something more. The house, the town, the doubles, the fairytale logic, the stitched-together folklore of mirrors and shadows all builds this creeping sense that Tamsin has stepped into a place where reality is thinner than it should be. I especially loved how the novel played with duality and doubling without losing the emotional core of the story. It felt symbolic, strange, and intimate all at once even though it was creepy AF.
The writing itself is just straight up GORGEOUS. When I exported my highlights and notes, I have over 16 pages in total, so that gives you an idea of how into this I was. There are so many lines in this book that are so real & natural, I kept thinking ‘DAMN I totally get that!’. Grist is able to write in a way that you truly can be in Tamsin’s head, understanding the alienation, anger, and self-loathing so precisely. This is one of those horror novels where the prose is doing a lot of heavy lifting in the best possible way and is straight up immersive, eerie, and often unexpectedly tender.
What really sealed this as a 4.5-star read for me was the way it all came together emotionally. This is not just a haunted-house story as I said already, but it’s also not just a descent-into-madness story either. It becomes something more cathartic than that and can be summarized I suppose as a story about reckoning with yourself, integrating the worst and most wounded parts of who you are, and understanding that healing is not the same thing as becoming pure or untouched. We’re all messy, angry, eerie, and even weird in our own ways and what we do with all that is up to us.
Thank you to NetGalley, Rebellion | Solaris, and Rhiannon Grist for the advance copy. All thoughts and opinions are my own and shared voluntarily.
Home Sick by Rhiannon Grist is a beautifully written piece of folk/psychological horror that completely got under my skin & I flew through faster than I anticipated. Told in six parts, this story follows Tamsin, a woman who leaves behind her life in the city after a violent incident at work and relocates to the countryside in hopes of becoming someone new. What she finds instead is a place that feels wrong from the start, a house that seems to know too much, a neighbor who may or may not be what she appears, and a growing sense that no matter how far she runs, she can't outrun herself.
What I loved most about this book is how layered it is. On the surface, it’s eerie, isolating, and deeply unsettling, but underneath it all, there’s a story about identity, shame, anger, reinvention, and the impossible task of trying to sever yourself from the parts of you that feel ugly or dangerous. Tamsin is most definitely not always likable (which some people may not care for), but she IS fascinating. Her loneliness, her instability, and her desperate desire to become a different version of herself made her feel painfully real. Though some may say this is a creepy/haunted house read, the true horror IMO isn’t just the house but rather what happens when a person is forced to confront the shadow self they’ve spent years trying to bury.
The folk elements worked so well for me too. TBH I’m not a huge folk-horror fan, HOWEVER, this may be an exception. The countryside setting has that deceptive cottagecore softness to it at first, but Grist turns it into something more. The house, the town, the doubles, the fairytale logic, the stitched-together folklore of mirrors and shadows all builds this creeping sense that Tamsin has stepped into a place where reality is thinner than it should be. I especially loved how the novel played with duality and doubling without losing the emotional core of the story. It felt symbolic, strange, and intimate all at once even though it was creepy AF.
The writing itself is just straight up GORGEOUS. When I exported my highlights and notes, I have over 16 pages in total, so that gives you an idea of how into this I was. There are so many lines in this book that are so real & natural, I kept thinking ‘DAMN I totally get that!’. Grist is able to write in a way that you truly can be in Tamsin’s head, understanding the alienation, anger, and self-loathing so precisely. This is one of those horror novels where the prose is doing a lot of heavy lifting in the best possible way and is straight up immersive, eerie, and often unexpectedly tender.
What really sealed this as a 4.5-star read for me was the way it all came together emotionally. This is not just a haunted-house story as I said already, but it’s also not just a descent-into-madness story either. It becomes something more cathartic than that and can be summarized I suppose as a story about reckoning with yourself, integrating the worst and most wounded parts of who you are, and understanding that healing is not the same thing as becoming pure or untouched. We’re all messy, angry, eerie, and even weird in our own ways and what we do with all that is up to us.
Thank you to NetGalley, Rebellion | Solaris, and Rhiannon Grist for the advance copy. All thoughts and opinions are my own and shared voluntarily.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
This is a bit of an odd one. It took me a while to figure out what was going on, which kept me intrigued. It had some really odd and creepy moments. Then it all came together too easy. The ending was like a weird creepy/ horror vibe where the person has to go through some shit to find themselves again.
It was ok. I don't think this story will stick with me particularly. I think this could have been pushed further and been really creepy and not such an easy wrap up.
Thanks Netgally for my advanced copy
It was ok. I don't think this story will stick with me particularly. I think this could have been pushed further and been really creepy and not such an easy wrap up.
Thanks Netgally for my advanced copy
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
Thank you netgalley for the Arc of this book!
When I tell you this book creeped me out, I mean it creeped me out! I had to double check my bedroom door was definitely shut 🤣🤣
I loved the eerie spookiness of it all, but one of my favourite things was Tamsins character development and how it all came together for the ending.
I really had no idea where the book was going to or how it was all going to play out so I was so surprised!!!
Love love love! Add it to your tbr asap!
When I tell you this book creeped me out, I mean it creeped me out! I had to double check my bedroom door was definitely shut 🤣🤣
I loved the eerie spookiness of it all, but one of my favourite things was Tamsins character development and how it all came together for the ending.
I really had no idea where the book was going to or how it was all going to play out so I was so surprised!!!
Love love love! Add it to your tbr asap!
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
4.5
February 1, 2026
It took a while for the story to really land for me, and the supporting cast wasn’t as fleshed out as I’d hoped. That said, the book should strongly appeal to fans of We Used to Love Here, Black Mirror, and folktale/eldritch horror. It’s gore-drenched, suspenseful, and genuinely frightening at times. If you’re in the mood for a unsettling, atmosphere-heavy read, this one delivers.
February 5, 2026
3.5 rounded to 4. This is a traditional Scottish tale of fae and I enjoyed it for the most part. It’s so so rare to find stories of the fae as they were traditionally. They were, quite frankly, terrifying. There was no romanticizing them here and it was awesome. My only gripe would be the pacing. Sometimes it was fine but it seemed drag at times. Thanks to NetGalley for ARC access!
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
This book and I weren't compatible in any meaningful sense.
The premise hooked me. Woman with a violent, mysterious past relocates to a remote Scottish cottage, weird neighbour, isolation, off vibes. I was so ready to love this.
And then nothing happened. For ages. And then still nothing happened, but now we’ve added ✨dream sequences✨ to the mix, which made it worse.
This is one of the slowest burns I’ve ever read, except it never actually ignites. It takes a solid third of the book to even hint at momentum, and then when things finally start to move, plot threads just get casually dropped like we won’t notice.
Tamsin our FMC is, without exaggeration, one of the most irritating protagonists I’ve come across. The paranoia kicks in immediately with no build up or escalation, just straight to full meltdown. She hears her neighbour walking around in the next room and instantly jumps to: “Had they followed me upstairs?" Girl. Please. Be serious.
Everything is a threat to Tamsin. Neighbour cutting the lawn? Ominous. Someone existing nearby? Suspicious. Breathing in her general direction? Clearly sinister.
And the frustrating part is, Rhiannon Grist writes her very vividly. Tamsin's angry, sour, paranoid, jealous, bitter, judgemental, vindictive, sarcastic. She's incapable of encountering another human being without immediately thinking the worst of them. She’s perpetually aggrieved. If you enjoy that very specific brand of deeply unpleasant female narrator, you might find her fascinating. I didn't. I found her exhausting and completely stopped caring what happened to her by about page 3.
The Scottish backdrop is doing the absolute least. The book wants us to think it's important, but beyond a Gaelic house name, there’s no real sense of place. This could have been set anywhere and it wouldn’t have made a difference. And there are all these tiny “Scottish” details that feel just slightly off; nothing huge, but enough of them that they start stacking up until the whole setting feels unconvincing. If you're not Scottish, you won't notice, but writing this from my house in the Scottish countryside I need to say: calling this Scottish folk horror is a straight up lie.
Then there’s the genre confusion. This isn’t really horror, it reads more like a modern fairy tale, but the shift from mystery/thriller into fantasy/dark fairytale territory is so abrupt. The symbolism's incredibly heavy-handed too; I clocked the neighbour “twist” almost immediately, and while I thought I’d at least enjoy the journey there really wasn’t one. Just a series of very obvious metaphors being aggressively underlined.
It’s clearly aiming for a “female rage” narrative, but it feels more like a label than something fully realised. There are sharp observations in here, but they’re buried under how on-the-nose everything is.
And somehow, despite spending the entire book in Tamsin’s head, she still feels both overdeveloped and underdeveloped. I understood what the book was trying to say about her, but I never felt it. Her motivations don’t quite land, her personality feels inconsistent, and her introspective monologues, while occasionally interesting, don’t feel grounded in her actual actions or experiences.
I finished the book still confused about who she was supposed to be, which isn't ideal for a first-person narrative.
Overall: so boring. Painfully boring.
The premise hooked me. Woman with a violent, mysterious past relocates to a remote Scottish cottage, weird neighbour, isolation, off vibes. I was so ready to love this.
And then nothing happened. For ages. And then still nothing happened, but now we’ve added ✨dream sequences✨ to the mix, which made it worse.
This is one of the slowest burns I’ve ever read, except it never actually ignites. It takes a solid third of the book to even hint at momentum, and then when things finally start to move, plot threads just get casually dropped like we won’t notice.
Tamsin our FMC is, without exaggeration, one of the most irritating protagonists I’ve come across. The paranoia kicks in immediately with no build up or escalation, just straight to full meltdown. She hears her neighbour walking around in the next room and instantly jumps to: “Had they followed me upstairs?" Girl. Please. Be serious.
Everything is a threat to Tamsin. Neighbour cutting the lawn? Ominous. Someone existing nearby? Suspicious. Breathing in her general direction? Clearly sinister.
And the frustrating part is, Rhiannon Grist writes her very vividly. Tamsin's angry, sour, paranoid, jealous, bitter, judgemental, vindictive, sarcastic. She's incapable of encountering another human being without immediately thinking the worst of them. She’s perpetually aggrieved. If you enjoy that very specific brand of deeply unpleasant female narrator, you might find her fascinating. I didn't. I found her exhausting and completely stopped caring what happened to her by about page 3.
The Scottish backdrop is doing the absolute least. The book wants us to think it's important, but beyond a Gaelic house name, there’s no real sense of place. This could have been set anywhere and it wouldn’t have made a difference. And there are all these tiny “Scottish” details that feel just slightly off; nothing huge, but enough of them that they start stacking up until the whole setting feels unconvincing. If you're not Scottish, you won't notice, but writing this from my house in the Scottish countryside I need to say: calling this Scottish folk horror is a straight up lie.
Then there’s the genre confusion. This isn’t really horror, it reads more like a modern fairy tale, but the shift from mystery/thriller into fantasy/dark fairytale territory is so abrupt. The symbolism's incredibly heavy-handed too; I clocked the neighbour “twist” almost immediately, and while I thought I’d at least enjoy the journey there really wasn’t one. Just a series of very obvious metaphors being aggressively underlined.
It’s clearly aiming for a “female rage” narrative, but it feels more like a label than something fully realised. There are sharp observations in here, but they’re buried under how on-the-nose everything is.
And somehow, despite spending the entire book in Tamsin’s head, she still feels both overdeveloped and underdeveloped. I understood what the book was trying to say about her, but I never felt it. Her motivations don’t quite land, her personality feels inconsistent, and her introspective monologues, while occasionally interesting, don’t feel grounded in her actual actions or experiences.
I finished the book still confused about who she was supposed to be, which isn't ideal for a first-person narrative.
Overall: so boring. Painfully boring.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
Thank you NetGalley and Solaris for the ARC in exchange for an honest review!
“Home Sick” by Rhiannon Grist is a strange, unsettling, and deeply introspective folk horror story that blurs the line between haunting and self-confrontation. What begins as a quiet story about starting over in the countryside slowly mutates into something far more disorienting. The book is part psychological descent, part Scottish folklore nightmare, and part self-help journey through the darkest corners of the self.
Tamsin, awkward, angry, and painfully self-aware, flees Edinburgh after doing something bad at her copywriting job and impulsively buys a cottage sight unseen. Only upon arrival does she discover the place is actually a duplex and her neighbor is unsettlingly familiar. As Tamsin struggles to settle into her new town, her social discomfort, poor communication skills, and simmering resentment make her both deeply relatable and frustratingly unreliable. It’s often unclear whether her isolation is caused by the people around her or by her own defensive behavior.
Soon, classic signs of a haunting emerge: strange noises, shifting objects, an overwhelming sense of being watched. But “Home Sick” refuses to offer easy answers. The disturbances could be supernatural, psychological, or something in between. Grist leans heavily into Scottish folklore, particularly traditional, terrifying interpretations of fae, doppelgangers, and mirroring without romanticizing them. The idea of duplication and reflection runs through the book, not just in the plot but in Tamsin herself, as she grapples with self-esteem issues, suppressed rage, and the parts of herself she’d rather ignore.
The middle of the story veers into fever-dream territory, intentionally confusing and uncanny. Tamsin is a profoundly unreliable narrator, and you are left to question whether she’s hallucinating, being manipulated by fae magic, or finally cracking under the weight of unresolved trauma. When the story reaches its final third, the creep factor spikes dramatically, with moments of blood, body horror, and surreal imagery, though this is less a traditional horror novel and more an introspective one.
The ending takes an unexpected philosophical turn, asking Tamsin (and the reader) to confront the idea of the “shadow self.” Growth comes not from denying anger or fear, but from acknowledging it, understanding it, and choosing what to do with it. While this shift felt a bit overly reflective, it provides a satisfying emotional resolution and genuine character growth.
Overall, “Home Sick” is not the book it first appears to be. It’s a quietly creepy, wonderfully weird folk horror that uses fae mythology and doppelgangers to explore anger, identity, and self-acceptance. This book is best suited for those who enjoy unreliable narrators, unsettling atmosphere, and horror that’s more about inner transformation than jump scares. This novella lingers long after the final page like moss creeping over stone.
“Home Sick” by Rhiannon Grist is a strange, unsettling, and deeply introspective folk horror story that blurs the line between haunting and self-confrontation. What begins as a quiet story about starting over in the countryside slowly mutates into something far more disorienting. The book is part psychological descent, part Scottish folklore nightmare, and part self-help journey through the darkest corners of the self.
Tamsin, awkward, angry, and painfully self-aware, flees Edinburgh after doing something bad at her copywriting job and impulsively buys a cottage sight unseen. Only upon arrival does she discover the place is actually a duplex and her neighbor is unsettlingly familiar. As Tamsin struggles to settle into her new town, her social discomfort, poor communication skills, and simmering resentment make her both deeply relatable and frustratingly unreliable. It’s often unclear whether her isolation is caused by the people around her or by her own defensive behavior.
Soon, classic signs of a haunting emerge: strange noises, shifting objects, an overwhelming sense of being watched. But “Home Sick” refuses to offer easy answers. The disturbances could be supernatural, psychological, or something in between. Grist leans heavily into Scottish folklore, particularly traditional, terrifying interpretations of fae, doppelgangers, and mirroring without romanticizing them. The idea of duplication and reflection runs through the book, not just in the plot but in Tamsin herself, as she grapples with self-esteem issues, suppressed rage, and the parts of herself she’d rather ignore.
The middle of the story veers into fever-dream territory, intentionally confusing and uncanny. Tamsin is a profoundly unreliable narrator, and you are left to question whether she’s hallucinating, being manipulated by fae magic, or finally cracking under the weight of unresolved trauma. When the story reaches its final third, the creep factor spikes dramatically, with moments of blood, body horror, and surreal imagery, though this is less a traditional horror novel and more an introspective one.
The ending takes an unexpected philosophical turn, asking Tamsin (and the reader) to confront the idea of the “shadow self.” Growth comes not from denying anger or fear, but from acknowledging it, understanding it, and choosing what to do with it. While this shift felt a bit overly reflective, it provides a satisfying emotional resolution and genuine character growth.
Overall, “Home Sick” is not the book it first appears to be. It’s a quietly creepy, wonderfully weird folk horror that uses fae mythology and doppelgangers to explore anger, identity, and self-acceptance. This book is best suited for those who enjoy unreliable narrators, unsettling atmosphere, and horror that’s more about inner transformation than jump scares. This novella lingers long after the final page like moss creeping over stone.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
Thank you to Rebellion Publishing for this ARC via NetGalley.
I am conflicted by this one. On one hand, I was quite entertained whilst reading this, but on the other I was underwhelmed.
After a (secret) violent incident takes place at her work, Tamsin seeks a fresh start. Her escape takes the form of a cottage in a remote area away from her old life, a place where she hopes to become a whole new person. Her dreams are quickly crushed when she realises the cottage is semi-detached, and she only owns half of it. Her dreams are crushed even further when she realises her neighbour is strange, to say the least. Tamsin's suspicions that something is not quite right deepen when she hears strange stories about her home that back her hallucinatory experiences there. Certain that she will not be able to escape her hidden past, or her anger, Tamsin spirals into paranoia.
Unfortunately, the symbolism was so heavy-handed that I guessed the neighbour twist almost immediately after it started. Still, I expected to enjoy the journey towards the reveals, but instead I found the shift from mystery/thriller to fantasy/dark fairytale jarring. It is clear the author was leaning into a ‘female rage’ concept here but I do not quite believe this contained enough substance to make that facet feel anything other than buzzy. Whilst the book did have some sharp observations, they felt almost buried beneath how explicit they all were.
Tamsin herself seemed inconsistent to me, the novel was written in first-person yet I struggled with a lack of connection towards her. It felt to me that the author did not fully commit here. Tamsin is an angry woman but when she monologues about the why’s behind it I found it was interesting to read but not in relation to Tamsin’s character and the things she has done or feels. Both her motivations and her personality felt underdeveloped. Ultimately, I was confused by her. This issue carried into the side characters, Rowan and Fergus were interesting but they just didn’t do enough. Even the neighbour herself could have done with some more page time.
The neighbour was the most interesting part of this in my opinion. Even though I did see the twist coming, I found the tension she built very interesting. I was reading this book at night and felt scared to go to the bathroom lest she appear behind me in the mirror and eat me or some such horror. Atmospherically, this novel is incredible, but in a way that saddens me more because the potential is there for me to adore it but unfortunately the execution was lacklustre for me.
I appreciate the themes at play, and this book was compelling but ultimately I was left wanting.
I am conflicted by this one. On one hand, I was quite entertained whilst reading this, but on the other I was underwhelmed.
After a (secret) violent incident takes place at her work, Tamsin seeks a fresh start. Her escape takes the form of a cottage in a remote area away from her old life, a place where she hopes to become a whole new person. Her dreams are quickly crushed when she realises the cottage is semi-detached, and she only owns half of it. Her dreams are crushed even further when she realises her neighbour is strange, to say the least. Tamsin's suspicions that something is not quite right deepen when she hears strange stories about her home that back her hallucinatory experiences there. Certain that she will not be able to escape her hidden past, or her anger, Tamsin spirals into paranoia.
Unfortunately, the symbolism was so heavy-handed that I guessed the neighbour twist almost immediately after it started. Still, I expected to enjoy the journey towards the reveals, but instead I found the shift from mystery/thriller to fantasy/dark fairytale jarring. It is clear the author was leaning into a ‘female rage’ concept here but I do not quite believe this contained enough substance to make that facet feel anything other than buzzy. Whilst the book did have some sharp observations, they felt almost buried beneath how explicit they all were.
Tamsin herself seemed inconsistent to me, the novel was written in first-person yet I struggled with a lack of connection towards her. It felt to me that the author did not fully commit here. Tamsin is an angry woman but when she monologues about the why’s behind it I found it was interesting to read but not in relation to Tamsin’s character and the things she has done or feels. Both her motivations and her personality felt underdeveloped. Ultimately, I was confused by her. This issue carried into the side characters, Rowan and Fergus were interesting but they just didn’t do enough. Even the neighbour herself could have done with some more page time.
The neighbour was the most interesting part of this in my opinion. Even though I did see the twist coming, I found the tension she built very interesting. I was reading this book at night and felt scared to go to the bathroom lest she appear behind me in the mirror and eat me or some such horror. Atmospherically, this novel is incredible, but in a way that saddens me more because the potential is there for me to adore it but unfortunately the execution was lacklustre for me.
I appreciate the themes at play, and this book was compelling but ultimately I was left wanting.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Although October is my official spooky season at Kindig Blog, I love a horror story all year round. The blurb of Home Sick was really intriguing, and I was excited to get started!
Tamsin is ready for a fresh start – she buys a cottage in the middle of the countryside without viewing it and is ready to start a new life away from the world. However, when she arrives and discovers the house is a semi-detached with an erratic neighbour, she realises her new house might not be the peaceful haven she had imagined…
From the moment I started Home Sick, I was hooked. Rhiannon Grist has created a real, lived in character of Tamsin who I empathised with throughout. Don’t get me wrong – she has a lot of flaws; she’s angry at the world, paranoid about what people think of her and makes some silly decisions. However, none of these flaws felt out of character for her at any point – this was just who she was. Without any spoilers, her character has quite a journey and a personality arc to travel on which led to a satisfying conclusion.
There’s an undercurrent of tension and unease which runs throughout the story. As a reader, we are constantly kept on the back foot – unsure of what is real and what is happening in Tamsin’s imagination or thoughts. There is a lot of her backstory which we are also are kept in the dark about until the very end – with vague references to something that has happened at work in her past in Edinburgh which drove me forward – wanting to find out more. The supernatural and horror aspects of the book were great, although the main twist is signposted very early on which I think ruined the reveal somewhat.
Overall, Home Sick is a twisty psychological thriller which puts you right in the mind of its somewhat twisted main character and had me hooked from the outset. Thank you to NetGalley & Rebellion – Solaris for the chance to read the ARC in exchange for an honest review.
For more of my reviews check out Kindig Blog
Tamsin is ready for a fresh start – she buys a cottage in the middle of the countryside without viewing it and is ready to start a new life away from the world. However, when she arrives and discovers the house is a semi-detached with an erratic neighbour, she realises her new house might not be the peaceful haven she had imagined…
From the moment I started Home Sick, I was hooked. Rhiannon Grist has created a real, lived in character of Tamsin who I empathised with throughout. Don’t get me wrong – she has a lot of flaws; she’s angry at the world, paranoid about what people think of her and makes some silly decisions. However, none of these flaws felt out of character for her at any point – this was just who she was. Without any spoilers, her character has quite a journey and a personality arc to travel on which led to a satisfying conclusion.
There’s an undercurrent of tension and unease which runs throughout the story. As a reader, we are constantly kept on the back foot – unsure of what is real and what is happening in Tamsin’s imagination or thoughts. There is a lot of her backstory which we are also are kept in the dark about until the very end – with vague references to something that has happened at work in her past in Edinburgh which drove me forward – wanting to find out more. The supernatural and horror aspects of the book were great, although the main twist is signposted very early on which I think ruined the reveal somewhat.
Overall, Home Sick is a twisty psychological thriller which puts you right in the mind of its somewhat twisted main character and had me hooked from the outset. Thank you to NetGalley & Rebellion – Solaris for the chance to read the ARC in exchange for an honest review.
For more of my reviews check out Kindig Blog
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
This book felt like moving into a cute countryside cottage only to realize the vibes are deeply cursed and your neighbor is smiling at you a little too hard.
Tamsin is such a messy, complicated main character in a way that actually worked for me. She is trying so hard to reinvent herself after a disaster back home, but instead of becoming a peaceful cottagecore queen, she ends up spiraling into increasingly weird and creepy situations that made me question absolutely everything alongside her.
The atmosphere is probably the strongest part. The isolated Scottish setting, the unsettling folklore, the strange little village energy where everyone seems to know more than they are saying, it all creates this constant feeling of unease. Like even when nothing huge is happening, something still feels wrong. And honestly, the neighbor alone would have me sleeping with the lights on.
I also really liked how the horror leans psychological as much as supernatural. Half the time you are wondering if the house is haunted, if Tamsin is unraveling, or if everyone around her is just collectively committed to making her lose her mind. Very stressful. Very entertaining.
The pacing dragged a tiny bit in the middle for me, and I wanted a little more from some of the creepy house stuff because those moments were genuinely the best parts. But once things start getting truly strange, it becomes hard to stop reading. There are some scenes later on that feel straight out of a nightmare you would wake up from and immediately text your friend about.
Overall, this was eerie, weird, emotional, and oddly relatable if you have ever wanted to disappear into the countryside and become a completely different person for a while. Which, honestly, same.
A really solid 4 star read for me and now I would like to never share a wall with anyone ever again.
Thank you NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for my honest opinion.
Tamsin is such a messy, complicated main character in a way that actually worked for me. She is trying so hard to reinvent herself after a disaster back home, but instead of becoming a peaceful cottagecore queen, she ends up spiraling into increasingly weird and creepy situations that made me question absolutely everything alongside her.
The atmosphere is probably the strongest part. The isolated Scottish setting, the unsettling folklore, the strange little village energy where everyone seems to know more than they are saying, it all creates this constant feeling of unease. Like even when nothing huge is happening, something still feels wrong. And honestly, the neighbor alone would have me sleeping with the lights on.
I also really liked how the horror leans psychological as much as supernatural. Half the time you are wondering if the house is haunted, if Tamsin is unraveling, or if everyone around her is just collectively committed to making her lose her mind. Very stressful. Very entertaining.
The pacing dragged a tiny bit in the middle for me, and I wanted a little more from some of the creepy house stuff because those moments were genuinely the best parts. But once things start getting truly strange, it becomes hard to stop reading. There are some scenes later on that feel straight out of a nightmare you would wake up from and immediately text your friend about.
Overall, this was eerie, weird, emotional, and oddly relatable if you have ever wanted to disappear into the countryside and become a completely different person for a while. Which, honestly, same.
A really solid 4 star read for me and now I would like to never share a wall with anyone ever again.
Thank you NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for my honest opinion.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
I had a very mixed experience with this book. For roughly the first 30 to 40 per cent, I honestly hated it. I kept reading mostly to confirm whether my initial impression was right, and in some ways, it was.
The first and second parts feel like two completely different books. Early on, the story suffers from too much explicit information and not enough trust in the reader. Everything is spelt out, leaving little to read between the lines, which made the narrative feel heavy-handed and occasionally patronising.
Once that initial setup is over, the book improves significantly. The foreshadowing becomes stronger, the suspense tightens, and the psychological horror really starts to work. I especially enjoyed the unsettling “what is real, what isn’t, is she losing her mind?” tension that drives the latter half.
Atmosphere is one of the novel’s biggest strengths. There is a persistent sense of wrongness threaded through ordinary spaces, as if home itself has become unreliable. The horror comes less from spectacle and more from the slow erosion of safety. Emotionally, the story is rooted in grief, which gives weight to the dread even when very little is happening on the surface.
The book also leans heavily on ambiguity in the second part. Not everything is explained, and mood takes priority over clear answers. This will be either deeply effective or frustrating, depending on what you prefer in horror.
Because I struggled with such a large portion of the book, I do not feel comfortable rating it higher, even though the second half worked much better for me. If half stars were possible, this would be a solid 3.5, but I am settling on 3 stars.
Overall, an eerie and emotionally grounded story with a strong payoff, but one that requires pushing through a difficult beginning to get there.
The first and second parts feel like two completely different books. Early on, the story suffers from too much explicit information and not enough trust in the reader. Everything is spelt out, leaving little to read between the lines, which made the narrative feel heavy-handed and occasionally patronising.
Once that initial setup is over, the book improves significantly. The foreshadowing becomes stronger, the suspense tightens, and the psychological horror really starts to work. I especially enjoyed the unsettling “what is real, what isn’t, is she losing her mind?” tension that drives the latter half.
Atmosphere is one of the novel’s biggest strengths. There is a persistent sense of wrongness threaded through ordinary spaces, as if home itself has become unreliable. The horror comes less from spectacle and more from the slow erosion of safety. Emotionally, the story is rooted in grief, which gives weight to the dread even when very little is happening on the surface.
The book also leans heavily on ambiguity in the second part. Not everything is explained, and mood takes priority over clear answers. This will be either deeply effective or frustrating, depending on what you prefer in horror.
Because I struggled with such a large portion of the book, I do not feel comfortable rating it higher, even though the second half worked much better for me. If half stars were possible, this would be a solid 3.5, but I am settling on 3 stars.
Overall, an eerie and emotionally grounded story with a strong payoff, but one that requires pushing through a difficult beginning to get there.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
After a violent incident at work, Tamsin retreats to a remote cottage in the Scottish countryside, hoping to rebuild her life from the ground up. A fresh start, new friendships, a version of herself she can finally feel at peace with. But the isolation she seeks isn’t quite what she gets, the cottage is semi-detached, separated by only a thin wall from a deeply unsettling neighbor whose shifting demeanor and ever-present smile quickly put Tamsin on edge.
As strange disturbances begin to plague her home and the townspeople share unsettling stories about the house, Tamsin’s already fragile sense of reality starts to fracture. What follows is a slow spiral into paranoia, where the line between external threat and internal unraveling becomes increasingly blurred.
I really enjoyed this psychological horror debut. I’m always drawn to stories where the setting, especially a house, feels alive and unpredictable, and the story delivers on that front. The unease builds not just through the environment, but through Tamsin herself. As both narrator and focal point, she’s deeply self-deprecating, socially anxious, and prone to overanalyzing everything around her. At times, she’s incredibly relatable; at others, her perspective feels exaggerated, but intentionally so, reinforcing the story’s tension and ambiguity.
Grist leans into the unreliable narrator effectively, particularly in Tamsin’s interactions with her neighbor and the townspeople. Because of Tamsin’s own insecurities and tendency to overthink, we only ever see others at a distance, filtered through her perceptions, which often feel incomplete or skewed. This creates a sense of disconnection that works well thematically, though it did leave me wishing for a bit more depth and development from the supporting cast.
The novel starts on slightly uneven footing, as it establishes Tamsin’s voice and instability, but once the central mystery takes hold, the pacing sharpens considerably. The climax is especially well-executed: tense, satisfying, and, in a way, liberating for both Tamsin and the reader. The resolution ties together the psychological and horror elements in a way that feels earned and ultimately redeeming.
Overall, while the pacing may feel off at times, it seems intentional, mirroring Tamsin’s own mental state and gradual unraveling. Despite a few minor shortcomings, this book is a compelling and atmospheric read that effectively blends psychological tension with gothic horror.
As strange disturbances begin to plague her home and the townspeople share unsettling stories about the house, Tamsin’s already fragile sense of reality starts to fracture. What follows is a slow spiral into paranoia, where the line between external threat and internal unraveling becomes increasingly blurred.
I really enjoyed this psychological horror debut. I’m always drawn to stories where the setting, especially a house, feels alive and unpredictable, and the story delivers on that front. The unease builds not just through the environment, but through Tamsin herself. As both narrator and focal point, she’s deeply self-deprecating, socially anxious, and prone to overanalyzing everything around her. At times, she’s incredibly relatable; at others, her perspective feels exaggerated, but intentionally so, reinforcing the story’s tension and ambiguity.
Grist leans into the unreliable narrator effectively, particularly in Tamsin’s interactions with her neighbor and the townspeople. Because of Tamsin’s own insecurities and tendency to overthink, we only ever see others at a distance, filtered through her perceptions, which often feel incomplete or skewed. This creates a sense of disconnection that works well thematically, though it did leave me wishing for a bit more depth and development from the supporting cast.
The novel starts on slightly uneven footing, as it establishes Tamsin’s voice and instability, but once the central mystery takes hold, the pacing sharpens considerably. The climax is especially well-executed: tense, satisfying, and, in a way, liberating for both Tamsin and the reader. The resolution ties together the psychological and horror elements in a way that feels earned and ultimately redeeming.
Overall, while the pacing may feel off at times, it seems intentional, mirroring Tamsin’s own mental state and gradual unraveling. Despite a few minor shortcomings, this book is a compelling and atmospheric read that effectively blends psychological tension with gothic horror.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
This was okay overall. The beginning was a bit slow so it took a while for me to get into it, just to lose me again later on. I found our main character, Tamsin, to be relatable at times and incredibly unlikeable with her constant anger and judgement. She was written to not be liked, so I feel the author did a great job on that part, but what made me not care whether she had a happy ending or not were her inner rants. She'd go on and on and constantly get off topic, causing me to be incredibly bored. I love an unlikeable character; I just can't live with an annoying one.
The side characters didn't do much for me, but it's probably my fault for expectations I set for them. Besides a couple that "helped" the story along, where even then it was at times oddly placed, they were kinda just there.
The buildup for the big bad thing that caused her to upend her life was a big of a letdown. but the constant references to it made me feel that it was something catastrophic, like she killed someone or something. I think the build took too long for me to care once it was revealed, especially since my interest had already began to wane.
I'll say some of her anger was justified, but her responses to it definitely needed work (which was the lesson in this story). . She should've stuck with the damn therapy and she could've avoided all she went through, especially when a lot of that early anger could've been dealt with before becoming worse.
Thank you Netgalley and the publisher for an early copy of the book!
The side characters didn't do much for me, but it's probably my fault for expectations I set for them. Besides a couple that "helped" the story along, where even then it was at times oddly placed, they were kinda just there.
The buildup for the big bad thing that caused her to upend her life was a big of a letdown. but the constant references to it made me feel that it was something catastrophic, like she killed someone or something. I think the build took too long for me to care once it was revealed, especially since my interest had already began to wane.
I'll say some of her anger was justified, but her responses to it definitely needed work (which was the lesson in this story). . She should've stuck with the damn therapy and she could've avoided all she went through, especially when a lot of that early anger could've been dealt with before becoming worse.
Thank you Netgalley and the publisher for an early copy of the book!
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
Scottish folk horror is quickly becoming one of my favorite genres and Home Sick by Rhiannon Grist is another reminder of why. At its center is Tamsin, a protagonist who is far from likable. She is not a good person. She arrives in a remote village hoping for a clean slate, but she’s not someone you immediately root for, and that’s part of what makes the story so compelling. Grist isn’t interested in giving us a perfect heroine; instead, she leans into the messiness of her character, which makes the unraveling feel all the more earned.
The setting does a lot of heavy lifting. The isolated village and seemingly idyllic countryside quickly take on an unsettling edge, creating that slow, creeping dread that folk horror does so well. There’s a strong sense that something is off long before the horror fully reveals itself. The pacing is particularly effective. The story takes its time building tension, layering unease and character development before the more overt horror elements emerge. When they do, they land with impact and reinforce the novel’s underlying message.
And that message is what really elevates the book. Beneath the eerie atmosphere and supernatural elements is a thoughtful exploration of consequence, identity, and the idea that you can’t simply outrun who you are. It’s well intentioned, well executed, and absolutely heard. Overall, Home Sick is a strong entry into the folk horror genre: moody, unsettling, and thematically rich. I’ll definitely be picking up more from Rhiannon Grist.
Many thanks to NetGalley, Rhiannon Grist, and Rebellion for the ARC. All opinions are my own.
The setting does a lot of heavy lifting. The isolated village and seemingly idyllic countryside quickly take on an unsettling edge, creating that slow, creeping dread that folk horror does so well. There’s a strong sense that something is off long before the horror fully reveals itself. The pacing is particularly effective. The story takes its time building tension, layering unease and character development before the more overt horror elements emerge. When they do, they land with impact and reinforce the novel’s underlying message.
And that message is what really elevates the book. Beneath the eerie atmosphere and supernatural elements is a thoughtful exploration of consequence, identity, and the idea that you can’t simply outrun who you are. It’s well intentioned, well executed, and absolutely heard. Overall, Home Sick is a strong entry into the folk horror genre: moody, unsettling, and thematically rich. I’ll definitely be picking up more from Rhiannon Grist.
Many thanks to NetGalley, Rhiannon Grist, and Rebellion for the ARC. All opinions are my own.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Took me a while to get this book, but it was well worth the wait.
Home Sick by Rhiannon Grist introduces us to Tamsin, a young woman so desperate to start over that she purchases a cottage in the Highlands of Scotland without viewing it first.
The cottage is extremely run down, and Tamsin simply cannot get anything to work. To make matters worse, she has a neighbour who seems hellbent on being noisy whenever she’s trying to sleep.
From there, things only get worse. Tamsin starts suffering from hallucinations, feels as though she’s always being watched, and people from the village say they’ve seen her in places she hasn’t been.
This novel was so much fun. While utterly fascinating and scarily relatable at times, Tamsin isn’t a reliable narrator, so it’s hard to tell whether what she’s experiencing is supernatural or psychological in nature.
The story emits a sense of eerie disquiet from the first page, which only continues to escalate and then spins out of control as Tamsin begins to mentally unravel. Grist truly gets to flex her muscles as a writer here, and I couldn’t help but be impressed.
I was also thrilled that the background characters actually came across as real people living in a rural village in the twenty-first century, for the most part, when it would have been incredibly easy to throw a bunch of stereotypes at the page and call it a day.
I will definitely be looking out for other works by Grist on the back of this.
Highly recommended.
With thanks to Rebellion for the ARC
Home Sick by Rhiannon Grist introduces us to Tamsin, a young woman so desperate to start over that she purchases a cottage in the Highlands of Scotland without viewing it first.
The cottage is extremely run down, and Tamsin simply cannot get anything to work. To make matters worse, she has a neighbour who seems hellbent on being noisy whenever she’s trying to sleep.
From there, things only get worse. Tamsin starts suffering from hallucinations, feels as though she’s always being watched, and people from the village say they’ve seen her in places she hasn’t been.
This novel was so much fun. While utterly fascinating and scarily relatable at times, Tamsin isn’t a reliable narrator, so it’s hard to tell whether what she’s experiencing is supernatural or psychological in nature.
The story emits a sense of eerie disquiet from the first page, which only continues to escalate and then spins out of control as Tamsin begins to mentally unravel. Grist truly gets to flex her muscles as a writer here, and I couldn’t help but be impressed.
I was also thrilled that the background characters actually came across as real people living in a rural village in the twenty-first century, for the most part, when it would have been incredibly easy to throw a bunch of stereotypes at the page and call it a day.
I will definitely be looking out for other works by Grist on the back of this.
Highly recommended.
With thanks to Rebellion for the ARC
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
"Danger! Leave! This place might look like a home but it's not. It's a praying mantis camouflaged as an orchid. It's a grave in disguise!"
Rhiannon Grist's debut novel is about Tamsin. After a violent incident at work she seeks a fresh start in a remote cottage far away from her old life. Here she could be a new version of her self with friends and a new job. However the cottage turns out to be a semi-detached with a very thin wall between herself and her strange neighbour. She appears to change like the wind with something quite unnerving about her. As she begins to experience disturbances that can't be explained, she turns to the locals and listens to their stories. Her paranoia soon make her feel that the life she tried to leave behind still has a hold on her.
This was quite an unsettling read. Quickly we learn of the move, the feelings Tamsin is working through and only a few loose details are dropped like breadcrumbs as to what the incident was. The reader is teased about the seriousness of the incident but ultimately left guessing until it's revealed.
The downward spiral that Tamsin finds herself in was atmospheric. The author wrote many scenes that felt almost claustrophobic. It was as though the reader was experiencing this alongside Tamsin.
I once again enjoyed this dark story. I liked that it had me guessing from the beginning.
Many thanks to @solarisbooks for the copy.
Rhiannon Grist's debut novel is about Tamsin. After a violent incident at work she seeks a fresh start in a remote cottage far away from her old life. Here she could be a new version of her self with friends and a new job. However the cottage turns out to be a semi-detached with a very thin wall between herself and her strange neighbour. She appears to change like the wind with something quite unnerving about her. As she begins to experience disturbances that can't be explained, she turns to the locals and listens to their stories. Her paranoia soon make her feel that the life she tried to leave behind still has a hold on her.
This was quite an unsettling read. Quickly we learn of the move, the feelings Tamsin is working through and only a few loose details are dropped like breadcrumbs as to what the incident was. The reader is teased about the seriousness of the incident but ultimately left guessing until it's revealed.
The downward spiral that Tamsin finds herself in was atmospheric. The author wrote many scenes that felt almost claustrophobic. It was as though the reader was experiencing this alongside Tamsin.
I once again enjoyed this dark story. I liked that it had me guessing from the beginning.
Many thanks to @solarisbooks for the copy.
April 12, 2026
3.75! A creepy folk horror tale that made me immediately worried about my creaking house, which turned into a painful tale of self acceptance.
Thank you Solaris for the review copy in exchange for my honest opinion!
I admit, I think I enjoyed this most when I didn’t understand what the threat was, even though I’m a big fan of fae and folklore myths! But when I reached the end, the horror carried through well into it transforming into a horror of self-acceptance. So I think it was the middle where this transitional period from “this is actually creeping me out” to “ah, the horrors of confronting all those inner flaws” that sagged a little for me. But the ending was satisfying in both how it dealt with the folklore element and for our MC!
Throughout, I thought that the mental images conjured and the lingering trauma were woven skilfully into the narration, dripping enough crumbs that I was constantly looking for the “ah ha” moment where threads fell into place.
However, I would be interested if the author intentionally wrote our MC as autistic, as there were aspects of her narration for me that felt coded in this way - and through that lens her lifelong sense of alienation and of being made to feel “wrong” leant a particularly heart-wrenching quality to the story.
I will definitely be looking out for work by this author again!
Thank you Solaris for the review copy in exchange for my honest opinion!
I admit, I think I enjoyed this most when I didn’t understand what the threat was, even though I’m a big fan of fae and folklore myths! But when I reached the end, the horror carried through well into it transforming into a horror of self-acceptance. So I think it was the middle where this transitional period from “this is actually creeping me out” to “ah, the horrors of confronting all those inner flaws” that sagged a little for me. But the ending was satisfying in both how it dealt with the folklore element and for our MC!
Throughout, I thought that the mental images conjured and the lingering trauma were woven skilfully into the narration, dripping enough crumbs that I was constantly looking for the “ah ha” moment where threads fell into place.
However, I would be interested if the author intentionally wrote our MC as autistic, as there were aspects of her narration for me that felt coded in this way - and through that lens her lifelong sense of alienation and of being made to feel “wrong” leant a particularly heart-wrenching quality to the story.
I will definitely be looking out for work by this author again!
April 15, 2026
👥👥👥 Home Sick by Rhiannon Grist
Tamsin packs her entire life into one small suitcase and disappears to 1B Sgàthan Sith - a house perched on a hollow hill with a quiet, unsettling atmosphere.
She’s withdrawn, awkward, the kind of person who fades into the background. Making connections doesn’t come easily and it’s clear she’s running from something - but you’re left guessing, which kept me hooked!
Things start to feel off almost immediately. Her neighbour is… inconsistent, let’s say. The house itself doesn’t feel quite right. And there’s this creeping sense that Tamsin isn’t entirely alone with herself.
From there it leans into eerie, folkloric territory - doppelgänger vibes, strange locals and that underlying “something’s watching you” feeling. It’s very much about identity, fear and what happens when you try to outrun parts of yourself that refuse to stay buried.
Tamsin isn’t the easiest character to love - she’s messy, defensive, a bit self-sabotaging - but that made her feel real. I did find myself sympathising with her, even when she frustrated me.
There are some creepy moments, a bit of gore and it’s a quick, easy read that you can sink into in one go. I just wish it leaned even further into the folklore and horror - it felt like it was holding back from going full feral.
ARC from NetGalley. All thoughts are my own.
Tamsin packs her entire life into one small suitcase and disappears to 1B Sgàthan Sith - a house perched on a hollow hill with a quiet, unsettling atmosphere.
She’s withdrawn, awkward, the kind of person who fades into the background. Making connections doesn’t come easily and it’s clear she’s running from something - but you’re left guessing, which kept me hooked!
Things start to feel off almost immediately. Her neighbour is… inconsistent, let’s say. The house itself doesn’t feel quite right. And there’s this creeping sense that Tamsin isn’t entirely alone with herself.
From there it leans into eerie, folkloric territory - doppelgänger vibes, strange locals and that underlying “something’s watching you” feeling. It’s very much about identity, fear and what happens when you try to outrun parts of yourself that refuse to stay buried.
Tamsin isn’t the easiest character to love - she’s messy, defensive, a bit self-sabotaging - but that made her feel real. I did find myself sympathising with her, even when she frustrated me.
There are some creepy moments, a bit of gore and it’s a quick, easy read that you can sink into in one go. I just wish it leaned even further into the folklore and horror - it felt like it was holding back from going full feral.
ARC from NetGalley. All thoughts are my own.
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