Two boys, bound by fate and a voracious desire ingrained in their souls despite their animosity, inhabit the chilling, suspenseful world of Hazelthorn, a botanical gothic horror that explores the complexities of moral ambiguity, selfishness, love, and the cost of ambition.
Seven years ago, Evander was buried—alive—by his childhood friend, Laurie. Now, hidden away in the grand yet suffocating mansion of Hazelthorn, he lives confined to a single room. He is never allowed to leave, and his only company comes from his watchful guardian, Byron, and the dutiful butler, Carrington. One day, he finds his bedroom door unlocked. For the first time, he steps out into the looming darkness of the halls—and from that moment on, things take a dark turn as he begins to unravel the cruel secrets hidden within it.
Hazelthorn by C.G. Drews is an incredibly well-crafted piece of horror fiction. From the first page, we are introduced to the distorted cycle of solitary confinement that Evander experiences. Evander is a whirlwind of confusion, desperation, and raw emotion. ‘Pain has become a thing he wears,’ as the book says. He’s a character of extreme complexity; and the moral ambiguity he carries—rooted deeply in his true nature—makes his inner monologue an embodiment of eeriness. Yet, it is precisely that unsettling quality of his that really immerses readers deeper into this narrative.
Laurie, on the other hand, is a smug teenager that feigns nonchalance and indifference towards those around him. Yet, buried deep within him is a raw, visceral pain and despair that he can confide in only himself. However, he doesn’t let his anguish consume him completely—his silent resilience plays a pivotal role in the narrative, transforming both his and Evander’s lives.
Hazelthorn is suspenseful, harrowing, and eerie all at once. Each chapter pulled me deeper into the story—from the steady pace and character development to the unveiling of secrets and turning points, all of these are woven into a narrative that is both compelling and thought-provoking. Furthermore, the dynamics between the characters are complex yet admirable; their bond is rooted in their childhood and strengthened by the mysteries that pervade the book.
This narrative also does more than terrify—it interrogates the complexity of human desires, showing how human nature can often lead people astray into a cloud of judgment, obsession, and an unceasing hunger for power. Hazelthorn delves into themes of familial legacy, abuse, and the cycles of violence, questioning whether individuals are inherently monstrous or merely products of their traumatic circumstances. Yet human desires and experiences are defined by both virtue and vice; all it takes is the effort to resist unethical impulses, break these cycles of abuse, and act with reason. The core message suggests that true agency comes from recognizing and confronting one's own darkness to find a path to survival and justice.
On top of that, C.G. Drews is incredibly talented when it comes to crafting a vivid and suspenseful narrative. Throughout the book, I was completely drawn to the striking, vivid imagery that is present in this story; the ability to capture both the harrowing themes and quiet intimacy between the characters is incredible to say the least.
Ultimately, while I enjoyed the eeriness and the thrill that rise with the escalating suspense, I also appreciate how Hazelthorn highlights how the differences in a person can lead them to be seen as monstrous or wrong. The narrative may have an incredibly gripping plot, but its undercurrent—showing how the characters transform affliction into a form of hope that hints at a future for both monsters and humans—is profoundly moving.
4.7 stars