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The Unhaunting
In this short, sharp, Southern Gothic horror novel, home takes on a whole new meaning. From Micaiah Johnson, the No. 1 Sunday Times bestselling author of
The Space Between Worlds.
At the end of the Civil War, a daughter of the Confederacy made what she thought was an innocent to build a house where nothing bad could happen. But peace came at a price, and one hundred and seventy years later Shantell and her friends are about to discover where all that darkness ended up.
When Shantell’s best friend, Avery, tells her he has inherited a house big enough to make their dreams of a sanctuary come true, she’s too cautious to be optimistic. A lifetime of loss has taught her cynicism, and even though Avery swears the house has never experienced a tragedy, she goes along expecting everything from black mold to evil spirits.
But not only is the house in better shape than they’d expected, it makes them better Shantell’s anxiety stops flaring up; terminally shallow Avery is suddenly capable of deeper emotions; and Tobias, Avery’s older brother and the contractor for the job, even quits chain smoking.
There’s an eeriness to the calm, and it’s almost a relief when they realize they do not walk alone in Abernathy House. As they dig into the house’s history, Shantell, Avery, and Tobias discover that there’s only one thing worse than a house that’s a house that desperately wants to be.
'You've never seen a haunted house like this one before' KYLIE LEE BAKER
'Original, imaginative, and terrifying' P. DJÈLÍ CLARK
'Charts the liminal middle ground between Shirley Jackson and Toni Morrison' CLAY McLEOD CHAPMAN
'Ferocious and poetic' VERONICA ROTH
'Ingenious... anxiety-inducing from start to twisty end' VICTOR MANIBO
Micaiah Johnson 2026 (P) Penguin Audio 2026
At the end of the Civil War, a daughter of the Confederacy made what she thought was an innocent to build a house where nothing bad could happen. But peace came at a price, and one hundred and seventy years later Shantell and her friends are about to discover where all that darkness ended up.
When Shantell’s best friend, Avery, tells her he has inherited a house big enough to make their dreams of a sanctuary come true, she’s too cautious to be optimistic. A lifetime of loss has taught her cynicism, and even though Avery swears the house has never experienced a tragedy, she goes along expecting everything from black mold to evil spirits.
But not only is the house in better shape than they’d expected, it makes them better Shantell’s anxiety stops flaring up; terminally shallow Avery is suddenly capable of deeper emotions; and Tobias, Avery’s older brother and the contractor for the job, even quits chain smoking.
There’s an eeriness to the calm, and it’s almost a relief when they realize they do not walk alone in Abernathy House. As they dig into the house’s history, Shantell, Avery, and Tobias discover that there’s only one thing worse than a house that’s a house that desperately wants to be.
'You've never seen a haunted house like this one before' KYLIE LEE BAKER
'Original, imaginative, and terrifying' P. DJÈLÍ CLARK
'Charts the liminal middle ground between Shirley Jackson and Toni Morrison' CLAY McLEOD CHAPMAN
'Ferocious and poetic' VERONICA ROTH
'Ingenious... anxiety-inducing from start to twisty end' VICTOR MANIBO
Micaiah Johnson 2026 (P) Penguin Audio 2026
Audible Audio
First published September 29, 2026
About the author
Micaiah Johnson
5 books1,580 followersMicaiah Johnson was raised in California's Mojave Desert surrounded by trees named Joshua and women who told stories.
She received her Bachelor of Arts in creative writing from the University of California, Riverside and her Master of Fine Arts in fiction from Rutgers-Camden. She now studies American Literature at Vanderbilt University where she focuses on critical race theory... and automatons.
She received her Bachelor of Arts in creative writing from the University of California, Riverside and her Master of Fine Arts in fiction from Rutgers-Camden. She now studies American Literature at Vanderbilt University where she focuses on critical race theory... and automatons.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 165 reviews
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
This one had such a creepy and unsettling premise, and I really wanted to love it more than I did. There was something about the idea of a house that seems almost too perfect that immediately pulled me in. A place that is supposed to be a sanctuary, where nothing bad has ever happened, should feel comforting… but somehow that made it even more disturbing. Because if a house has no tragedy in its history, then where are the ghosts coming from?
I really liked the darker ideas behind this story. The thought that a house can become more than just a structure, that it can hold onto the people, emotions, and darkness surrounding it, gave the story an eerie atmosphere. The line about a house being a ghost story waiting for its death really fits the feeling of this book. There is this constant sense that something is wrong, even when everything looks completely fine on the surface.
Shantell was probably the character I connected with the most. She has been through so much loss, and I appreciated that her past actually mattered to who she was. Her relationship with Avery and Tobias also gave the story some emotional depth, especially as they began changing after coming into the house. Watching people who have been carrying their own struggles suddenly become calmer, kinder, or more hopeful was fascinating, but also incredibly creepy because I kept wondering what the house wanted in return.
And honestly, that was one of my favorite parts, the feeling that the house itself was almost a character. Something about it felt alive without needing to constantly be in your face. The calmness was more unsettling than chaos would have been. When everyone starts feeling better, you would normally think that's a good thing, but here I was sitting there thinking, okay… what is actually happening?
I also enjoyed the history surrounding the house and the idea that something created with the hope of becoming a safe place could end up carrying so much darkness. There were some genuinely creepy moments, and I liked the mystery of figuring out how everything connected without having every answer handed over immediately.
That being said, this was definitely a three-star read for me. I liked the atmosphere and the ideas much more than I loved the execution. There were parts where I found myself wanting the story to move a little faster, and I sometimes felt like I was waiting for the horror to really grab me and not let go. I wanted more of that gut-punch feeling and more moments that genuinely scared me.
I also think the concept had so much potential that I kept expecting it to go even darker. The idea of a house that desperately wants to be haunted is SUCH a creepy concept, and I wanted more of that unsettling energy throughout the story.
Overall, I enjoyed the darkness, the strange history, the ghosts, and especially the question of what happens when a place that is supposed to be a sanctuary isn't quite as innocent as it seems. It definitely gave me some things to think about, and there were moments that stayed with me, but I just didn't connect with the story enough to give it a higher rating. A creepy, atmospheric read with a fascinating concept that unfortunately didn't completely pull me in.
I really liked the darker ideas behind this story. The thought that a house can become more than just a structure, that it can hold onto the people, emotions, and darkness surrounding it, gave the story an eerie atmosphere. The line about a house being a ghost story waiting for its death really fits the feeling of this book. There is this constant sense that something is wrong, even when everything looks completely fine on the surface.
Shantell was probably the character I connected with the most. She has been through so much loss, and I appreciated that her past actually mattered to who she was. Her relationship with Avery and Tobias also gave the story some emotional depth, especially as they began changing after coming into the house. Watching people who have been carrying their own struggles suddenly become calmer, kinder, or more hopeful was fascinating, but also incredibly creepy because I kept wondering what the house wanted in return.
And honestly, that was one of my favorite parts, the feeling that the house itself was almost a character. Something about it felt alive without needing to constantly be in your face. The calmness was more unsettling than chaos would have been. When everyone starts feeling better, you would normally think that's a good thing, but here I was sitting there thinking, okay… what is actually happening?
I also enjoyed the history surrounding the house and the idea that something created with the hope of becoming a safe place could end up carrying so much darkness. There were some genuinely creepy moments, and I liked the mystery of figuring out how everything connected without having every answer handed over immediately.
That being said, this was definitely a three-star read for me. I liked the atmosphere and the ideas much more than I loved the execution. There were parts where I found myself wanting the story to move a little faster, and I sometimes felt like I was waiting for the horror to really grab me and not let go. I wanted more of that gut-punch feeling and more moments that genuinely scared me.
I also think the concept had so much potential that I kept expecting it to go even darker. The idea of a house that desperately wants to be haunted is SUCH a creepy concept, and I wanted more of that unsettling energy throughout the story.
Overall, I enjoyed the darkness, the strange history, the ghosts, and especially the question of what happens when a place that is supposed to be a sanctuary isn't quite as innocent as it seems. It definitely gave me some things to think about, and there were moments that stayed with me, but I just didn't connect with the story enough to give it a higher rating. A creepy, atmospheric read with a fascinating concept that unfortunately didn't completely pull me in.
Want to Read
May 16, 2026A woman with a lifetime of loss inherits a house big enough for her dreams of sanctuary to come true... but soon enough realizes that she's not walking alone in that house.
Many thanks to NetGalley, Putnam/G.P. Putnam's Sons and the author, Micaiah Johnson for an early copy.
Publication date: September 29, 2026
Many thanks to NetGalley, Putnam/G.P. Putnam's Sons and the author, Micaiah Johnson for an early copy.
Publication date: September 29, 2026
Want to Read
February 28, 2026I am SEATED for all the books Micaiah Johnson writes until the end of time.
August 18, 2026
God, I don't even know how to begin rating or talking about this.
On the one hand, I found the first half difficult to get invested in. Like I could feel everything building, but that sense of unease really had to mount in both severity and frequency as the novel goes on. I knew there would be payoff and had a general idea of where we'd be heading, but I can't deny that my intrigue was initially slow to manifest. I only mention this because I hope others who might feel similarly will stick with it.
Once it gets going, however, I thought the read was entirely engrossing and well worth the destination. This shared a lot of similarities with Ready or Not and Get Out and even Starling House. But that ending in particular (not to mention the covers and release dates) really made me feel like this and Reliquary are sisters.
I need to go stew in my emotions over this, and probably experience some very dreams, but this was a really good book.
Note: this is incredibly different than her debut and its sequel, and doesn't reach their heights and my love for those books. but I'm 0% mad I read it.
Thank you to NetGalley and Putnam for granting me an ARC. All thoughts and opinions are my own.
On the one hand, I found the first half difficult to get invested in. Like I could feel everything building, but that sense of unease really had to mount in both severity and frequency as the novel goes on. I knew there would be payoff and had a general idea of where we'd be heading, but I can't deny that my intrigue was initially slow to manifest. I only mention this because I hope others who might feel similarly will stick with it.
Once it gets going, however, I thought the read was entirely engrossing and well worth the destination. This shared a lot of similarities with Ready or Not and Get Out and even Starling House. But that ending in particular (not to mention the covers and release dates) really made me feel like this and Reliquary are sisters.
I need to go stew in my emotions over this, and probably experience some very dreams, but this was a really good book.
Note: this is incredibly different than her debut and its sequel, and doesn't reach their heights and my love for those books. but I'm 0% mad I read it.
Thank you to NetGalley and Putnam for granting me an ARC. All thoughts and opinions are my own.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
"The house is waiting."
4.2/5
I went into The Unhaunting expecting a haunted-house story and got something considerably more thoughtful and unsettling. Johnson takes the familiar conventions of supernatural horror and uses them to explore racism, slavery, generational trauma, and the lived experience of being Black in America without reducing any of those subjects to convenient thematic decoration. The social commentary is woven into the architecture of the story itself, giving the horror a weight that extends well beyond the supernatural. The result is a novel that manages to be both genuinely frightening and deeply contemplative, particularly in its questions about safety, belonging, and what it means to inherit a history you did not choose.
The writing is controlled and remarkably atmospheric, with prose that knows when to be spare and when to become lyrical. Johnson creates an especially effective tension through the contrast between apparent tranquility and the persistent sense that something beneath it is profoundly wrong. The house becomes an unsettling presence in its own right, particularly as its influence intersects with the grief, trauma, and complicated histories of the people within it. I was especially invested in Shantell, whose past is treated as something formative rather than incidental, and in the relationships that give the supernatural elements an emotional foundation. There are some genuinely disturbing moments, but the quieter unease ultimately stayed with me longer than the overt horror.
The Unhaunting is an intelligent, provocative reimagining (frankly reinvention) of the haunted-house story that uses horror to examine history, identity, trauma, and the complicated price of feeling safe. I appreciated that Johnson trusts the reader to sit with those questions rather than explaining every implication or reducing them to tidy answers. It is eerie, occasionally brutal, and surprisingly beautiful in its darker moments. It is the kind of horror that leaves you thinking about what, exactly, the ghosts are haunting - and what it costs to know the peace of the promised land.
Thank you Penguin Random House for the ARC of this standout novel in exchange for an honest review. It was a pleasure to read & review, and I look forward to the next.
4.2/5
I went into The Unhaunting expecting a haunted-house story and got something considerably more thoughtful and unsettling. Johnson takes the familiar conventions of supernatural horror and uses them to explore racism, slavery, generational trauma, and the lived experience of being Black in America without reducing any of those subjects to convenient thematic decoration. The social commentary is woven into the architecture of the story itself, giving the horror a weight that extends well beyond the supernatural. The result is a novel that manages to be both genuinely frightening and deeply contemplative, particularly in its questions about safety, belonging, and what it means to inherit a history you did not choose.
The writing is controlled and remarkably atmospheric, with prose that knows when to be spare and when to become lyrical. Johnson creates an especially effective tension through the contrast between apparent tranquility and the persistent sense that something beneath it is profoundly wrong. The house becomes an unsettling presence in its own right, particularly as its influence intersects with the grief, trauma, and complicated histories of the people within it. I was especially invested in Shantell, whose past is treated as something formative rather than incidental, and in the relationships that give the supernatural elements an emotional foundation. There are some genuinely disturbing moments, but the quieter unease ultimately stayed with me longer than the overt horror.
The Unhaunting is an intelligent, provocative reimagining (frankly reinvention) of the haunted-house story that uses horror to examine history, identity, trauma, and the complicated price of feeling safe. I appreciated that Johnson trusts the reader to sit with those questions rather than explaining every implication or reducing them to tidy answers. It is eerie, occasionally brutal, and surprisingly beautiful in its darker moments. It is the kind of horror that leaves you thinking about what, exactly, the ghosts are haunting - and what it costs to know the peace of the promised land.
Thank you Penguin Random House for the ARC of this standout novel in exchange for an honest review. It was a pleasure to read & review, and I look forward to the next.
October 20, 2026
One of the most original haunted house stories I've ever read. I was invested from the start. I worried that this narrative would be bogged down by a love triangle, but to my immense relief, that didn't happen. Giving the house a voice was a risk that absolutely paid off. It added to the malice. This one was rich in atmosphere, America's dark history, and compelling characters.
October 11, 2026
What an interesting and unconventional "haunted house" story!
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
This is an engaging and intricate horror novel, without the clichés of the genre, but self aware enough to reference them. The characters feel well-formed and their motivations make sense, which adds depth to the events that befall them; Shantell was a sympathetic protagonist who I easily could root for. I really enjoyed the way the horror aspects of this book worked as an analogy for trauma and the ways in which we despise and value it simultaneously. The racial aspects of the book were very well written and powerfully moving; nothing felt unnecessary or added for shock value. I felt that the ending made perfect sense for the characters and didn’t diminish from the overall stakes of the book.
In conclusion, I really enjoyed reading this novel and would recommend it, despite not being a typical horror fan!
Thank you to Netgalley, the author and the publisher for the advance e-copy.
In conclusion, I really enjoyed reading this novel and would recommend it, despite not being a typical horror fan!
Thank you to Netgalley, the author and the publisher for the advance e-copy.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
While I liked the exploration of how the genocidal sins of the past affected the present in the form of a cursed estate, this turned out to be just an okay read for me. But I know other readers who might enjoy this novel a lot better than I did.
A lot of the story hinged on the reader connecting with the characters, understanding their traumas and their shared histories. So, this ended up being more of a character study with a loose plot about a haunted house.
I liked the hauntings, the creepy vibes, and learning about the house's racist origins, but I never fully connected with the characters. Their backstories and relationships were so melodramatic, especially with Shantell's past, and it felt really over the top, like the author wanted to throw every tragedy at Shantell. And with Shantell and Avery's close relationship and the will-they-won't-they situation (while Avery was already seeing someone) turned this story into more of a soap opera than I would've liked.
But if you like Gothic melodrama with a slower pacing, then this might be your thing. I just wish that I could've felt something for the characters so I could actually enjoy the novel fully.
Thank you to G.P. Putnam's Sons and NetGalley for this arc.
A lot of the story hinged on the reader connecting with the characters, understanding their traumas and their shared histories. So, this ended up being more of a character study with a loose plot about a haunted house.
I liked the hauntings, the creepy vibes, and learning about the house's racist origins, but I never fully connected with the characters. Their backstories and relationships were so melodramatic, especially with Shantell's past, and it felt really over the top, like the author wanted to throw every tragedy at Shantell. And with Shantell and Avery's close relationship and the will-they-won't-they situation (while Avery was already seeing someone) turned this story into more of a soap opera than I would've liked.
But if you like Gothic melodrama with a slower pacing, then this might be your thing. I just wish that I could've felt something for the characters so I could actually enjoy the novel fully.
Thank you to G.P. Putnam's Sons and NetGalley for this arc.
September 15, 2026
This book is unsettling! The house, the characters, and the story- just unsettling. I loved every minute of this ride. Brothers Avery and Tobias Abernathy, along with childhood friend Shantell, are renovating the Abernathy family home as a place of stability for Shantell. Avery is motivated to complete the renovations for Shantell, giving her a soft place to land after a difficult time in the city. She has experienced so much loss and pain. Previously estranged brothers, they now share a more peaceful bond. Each one of these characters experienced hardships throughout their lives.
Then there’s the house. The house served as the big house for the master’s family during the Civil War- everything and everyone around the house
suffered immeasurable losses and pain. But during the renovations, the house is making the trio strangely better. Shantell is calmer, Avery more caring, and Tobias kinder and healthier! Of course, it wants something in return. Author Micaiah Johnson does something unique by giving the house a POV too. I love this and it effectively provides the chills to the story. My favorite parts of the book come from the POV of the house.
This is an intriguing story. The unnerving plot twists and turns had me invested all the way to the end. My only issue is the pacing of the story in the beginning. It was too slow of a buildup, but the originality of the story outweighed the slow start. If you enjoy haunting stories, get this one!
Thank you to NetGalley and Putnam Books for allowing me access to the ARC in exchange for my honest review.
Then there’s the house. The house served as the big house for the master’s family during the Civil War- everything and everyone around the house
suffered immeasurable losses and pain. But during the renovations, the house is making the trio strangely better. Shantell is calmer, Avery more caring, and Tobias kinder and healthier! Of course, it wants something in return. Author Micaiah Johnson does something unique by giving the house a POV too. I love this and it effectively provides the chills to the story. My favorite parts of the book come from the POV of the house.
This is an intriguing story. The unnerving plot twists and turns had me invested all the way to the end. My only issue is the pacing of the story in the beginning. It was too slow of a buildup, but the originality of the story outweighed the slow start. If you enjoy haunting stories, get this one!
Thank you to NetGalley and Putnam Books for allowing me access to the ARC in exchange for my honest review.
October 3, 2026
And I will still continue for a haunted house story, I like.... sigh.
October 1, 2026
To review once I've sat with it a while - but THIS, this was everything I could ever want out of Micaiah Johnson writing a haunted house.
July 16, 2026
I read an eARC of this book on NetGalley so thank you to the author and the publisher. I really enjoyed this author’s sci-fi books and I’m delighted to see they can do horror just as well.
I really enjoyed this, I found it absolutely gripping and I highly recommend it! But it is going to be hard to review because I so badly want to avoid spoilers, yet I want to talk about so much in the book!
This is a haunted house book. That’s clear from early on. Our main character is asked by a close friend to travel to the south and help him fix up a house he has inherited. From early on, apparitions occur, strange things happen. The characters are broadly quite accepting of this. What’s clever is the why behind the hauntings. This isn’t jump scares and revenge hauntings. There’s a far reaching and subtle reason for why the house is the way it is and it’s fascinating. There’s a real poignancy to this and it’s quite thought provoking with how it leaves you feeling about the house.
Main character is brilliant. She has a lot of trauma and it’s left her quite cynical. Which leaves her perfectly positioned to deal with what comes up. Far more than her friend who expects everything is going to be fine. Then we have the slightly more challenging character of the brother. There’s a complicated relationship with our main character and it changes throughout the book.
The atmosphere was great. There’s some very creepy moments in this book. I flew through this book as I was so engrossed!
I really enjoyed this, I found it absolutely gripping and I highly recommend it! But it is going to be hard to review because I so badly want to avoid spoilers, yet I want to talk about so much in the book!
This is a haunted house book. That’s clear from early on. Our main character is asked by a close friend to travel to the south and help him fix up a house he has inherited. From early on, apparitions occur, strange things happen. The characters are broadly quite accepting of this. What’s clever is the why behind the hauntings. This isn’t jump scares and revenge hauntings. There’s a far reaching and subtle reason for why the house is the way it is and it’s fascinating. There’s a real poignancy to this and it’s quite thought provoking with how it leaves you feeling about the house.
Main character is brilliant. She has a lot of trauma and it’s left her quite cynical. Which leaves her perfectly positioned to deal with what comes up. Far more than her friend who expects everything is going to be fine. Then we have the slightly more challenging character of the brother. There’s a complicated relationship with our main character and it changes throughout the book.
The atmosphere was great. There’s some very creepy moments in this book. I flew through this book as I was so engrossed!
October 7, 2026
The Unhaunting is a wonderfully eerie and deeply thought-provoking story that takes the familiar idea of a haunted house and turns it into something much more complex — and much more unsettling.
From the beginning, I was intrigued by the premise. Abernathy House seems almost too good to be true: a beautiful home with no history of tragedy, offering Shantell, Avery and Tobias the chance to create the sanctuary they’ve always dreamed of. But when a house seems determined to make its inhabitants happier, healthier and somehow better versions of themselves, you know something is very, very wrong.
I really connected with Shantell. Her history of profound loss has shaped the way she sees the world, and I appreciated that her grief, anxiety and distrust weren't simply treated as character flaws to be overcome. Her perspective gave the story an emotional weight that made the supernatural elements feel even more unsettling.
The atmosphere is fantastic. There is a constant sense that something isn't quite right, even during the moments when everything appears peaceful. I loved that creeping feeling of unease — the kind where you know there is something lurking just beneath the surface, but you can't quite figure out what it is.
What really stood out to me, though, was the way Micaiah Johnson uses the haunted-house concept to explore grief, trauma, racism, violence, loss and the ways people carry their past with them. This is much more than a straightforward ghost story. There are some genuinely creepy moments, but there is also a lot here to think about after turning the final page.
The mystery surrounding Abernathy House kept me turning pages, and I enjoyed watching Shantell, Avery and Tobias piece together its strange history. The idea of a house that isn't simply haunted, but actually wants to be haunted, is wonderfully original and gave the story a distinctive twist.
Atmospheric, unsettling and surprisingly emotional, The Unhaunting is a fascinating take on the haunted-house story. It’s the kind of book that makes you look at the idea of “home” a little differently — and perhaps makes you think twice about moving into a house that seems a little too perfect.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the opportunity to read and review this book. All opinions are my own
From the beginning, I was intrigued by the premise. Abernathy House seems almost too good to be true: a beautiful home with no history of tragedy, offering Shantell, Avery and Tobias the chance to create the sanctuary they’ve always dreamed of. But when a house seems determined to make its inhabitants happier, healthier and somehow better versions of themselves, you know something is very, very wrong.
I really connected with Shantell. Her history of profound loss has shaped the way she sees the world, and I appreciated that her grief, anxiety and distrust weren't simply treated as character flaws to be overcome. Her perspective gave the story an emotional weight that made the supernatural elements feel even more unsettling.
The atmosphere is fantastic. There is a constant sense that something isn't quite right, even during the moments when everything appears peaceful. I loved that creeping feeling of unease — the kind where you know there is something lurking just beneath the surface, but you can't quite figure out what it is.
What really stood out to me, though, was the way Micaiah Johnson uses the haunted-house concept to explore grief, trauma, racism, violence, loss and the ways people carry their past with them. This is much more than a straightforward ghost story. There are some genuinely creepy moments, but there is also a lot here to think about after turning the final page.
The mystery surrounding Abernathy House kept me turning pages, and I enjoyed watching Shantell, Avery and Tobias piece together its strange history. The idea of a house that isn't simply haunted, but actually wants to be haunted, is wonderfully original and gave the story a distinctive twist.
Atmospheric, unsettling and surprisingly emotional, The Unhaunting is a fascinating take on the haunted-house story. It’s the kind of book that makes you look at the idea of “home” a little differently — and perhaps makes you think twice about moving into a house that seems a little too perfect.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the opportunity to read and review this book. All opinions are my own
September 26, 2026
The Unhaunting by Mcaya Johnson, Avery has recently inherited a house from his uncle Avery that was built years ago by his ancestor Adele who tried to put a curse on the house so it wouldn’t absorb any negative feelings or emotions so when he and his best friend Chantelle go down to Mississippi to fix the house up the first night they are they’re visited by a ghost and this is just the beginning. Throughout the book we also get to hear from dead uncle Avery let me just say there was a lot about the book that confuse me like the whole thing with Emily Chantelle and Avery and Tobias who was supposed to be problematic and maybe he was but not as much as they made it out to be in the beginning I also found the ending strange I also don’t get why if a ghost is black they automatically have to be a dead slave I mean even back when slavery was still legal they had very wealthy Black people and they died as well so IDK maybe I missed something I don’t know I thought that would be no ghost there then there was ghost there then the house helped them with their bad habits and they kept saying they were going to leave but didn’t leave I would be lying if I didn’t say that I really did like the book I just wasn’t a big fan I guess of the ending. Also #NetGalley, #TheBlindReviewer, #MyHonestReview,
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Note: This review was originally published at FanFiAddict.
Micaiah Johnson is one hell of a writer. That much is immediately apparent in the opening pages of The Unhaunting, where I found myself instantly captivated by her storytelling prowess. Her authorial voice is commanding and, right from the outset, demands that you pay attention.
The Unhaunting revolves around best friends since childhood – the Black, neurodivergent Shantell and the modestly wealthy and white Avery. Shantell was never quite sure how rich Avery was, but when he inherits the familial estate in the deep South, she learns pretty quickly. The place is run-down, but the fixer-upper opportunity promises them a refuge, particularly for reclusive Shantell who is becoming a shut-in. Avery swears up and down that the Abernathy House was never a slave plantation, but as the home’s quirks begin to grow and the truth of the Abernathy family and the dark history of the town surrounding them is slowly revealed, the truth is far worse. The estate isn’t haunted. But it sure does want to be.
The older I get, and the more my kids grow, the more I recognize the truth behind the sentiment that every home is haunted. We all have ghosts. Hell, that’s the central metaphor behind ghost horror, right? In The Shining, the ghosts were all about alcoholism and domestic abuse. While there’s some of that here in The Unhaunting, the metaphors get plumbed quite a bit deeper when viewed through the lens of African-American history. Johnson uses the trope of the haunted house (but not really, remember) as a canvas to explore white privilege and the whitewashing of history.
Along the way, Johnson explores the racial politics separating white and Black America, and the commonalities that can transcend those divisions. The question, of course, is whether Shantell and Avery’s friendship can survive the Abernathy House and the horrors it remembers, inflicts, and desires. What the house can offer those who dwell within it, and the toll those promises can take on others, makes for a brutally toxic relationship. For the long familial line of Abernathy’s that have lived there, only the positives have ever been experienced, while the town outside the edges of the property learn loss and sorrow in horrifying fashion. Of course, as one character notes along the way, “there’s a distance from which poverty appears indistinguishable from a curse.”
Shantell’s mere existence as a Black American, let alone one that’s neurodivergent, anxious, and scarred by loss, offers the house all the pain and terror it could possibly crave. Johnson meticulously explores what it means for Shantell and her family to live in the United States, with its history of slavery and present-day racism. Her existence runs in stark contrast to Avery’s, who has only ever known peace and safety. He’s from a world where the passing of a family member means getting a whole damn house unasked for. For Shantell, the death of a family member most often means being saddled with debt, funeral expenses, and potentially the loss of a home, like the one she grew up in.
The social commentary is potent, thoughtful, and provocative. So, too, is the horror. Johnson conjures up some truly nightmarish apparitions, presenting them to us in grisly, garish detail. Even more shocking, though, are the powerhouse revelations Johnson casually drops throughout the narrative. She expertly drops a bombshell in the prologue, one that surprised the hell out of me and ensured my undivided attention. I had to know what was coming next, and I found myself hooked.
The Unhaunting is a masterclass in literary horror. It’s smart, subtle, relevant, and morbidly beautiful. Johnson puts a beautiful twist on the classic haunted house trope, enriching the ghostly narrative with metaphors about mental health and trauma, the price of safety, and the Black experience in America. For my money, it might not only be one of the best horror books of 2026, it just might be one of the best haunted house books ever.
Micaiah Johnson is one hell of a writer. That much is immediately apparent in the opening pages of The Unhaunting, where I found myself instantly captivated by her storytelling prowess. Her authorial voice is commanding and, right from the outset, demands that you pay attention.
The Unhaunting revolves around best friends since childhood – the Black, neurodivergent Shantell and the modestly wealthy and white Avery. Shantell was never quite sure how rich Avery was, but when he inherits the familial estate in the deep South, she learns pretty quickly. The place is run-down, but the fixer-upper opportunity promises them a refuge, particularly for reclusive Shantell who is becoming a shut-in. Avery swears up and down that the Abernathy House was never a slave plantation, but as the home’s quirks begin to grow and the truth of the Abernathy family and the dark history of the town surrounding them is slowly revealed, the truth is far worse. The estate isn’t haunted. But it sure does want to be.
The older I get, and the more my kids grow, the more I recognize the truth behind the sentiment that every home is haunted. We all have ghosts. Hell, that’s the central metaphor behind ghost horror, right? In The Shining, the ghosts were all about alcoholism and domestic abuse. While there’s some of that here in The Unhaunting, the metaphors get plumbed quite a bit deeper when viewed through the lens of African-American history. Johnson uses the trope of the haunted house (but not really, remember) as a canvas to explore white privilege and the whitewashing of history.
Along the way, Johnson explores the racial politics separating white and Black America, and the commonalities that can transcend those divisions. The question, of course, is whether Shantell and Avery’s friendship can survive the Abernathy House and the horrors it remembers, inflicts, and desires. What the house can offer those who dwell within it, and the toll those promises can take on others, makes for a brutally toxic relationship. For the long familial line of Abernathy’s that have lived there, only the positives have ever been experienced, while the town outside the edges of the property learn loss and sorrow in horrifying fashion. Of course, as one character notes along the way, “there’s a distance from which poverty appears indistinguishable from a curse.”
Shantell’s mere existence as a Black American, let alone one that’s neurodivergent, anxious, and scarred by loss, offers the house all the pain and terror it could possibly crave. Johnson meticulously explores what it means for Shantell and her family to live in the United States, with its history of slavery and present-day racism. Her existence runs in stark contrast to Avery’s, who has only ever known peace and safety. He’s from a world where the passing of a family member means getting a whole damn house unasked for. For Shantell, the death of a family member most often means being saddled with debt, funeral expenses, and potentially the loss of a home, like the one she grew up in.
The social commentary is potent, thoughtful, and provocative. So, too, is the horror. Johnson conjures up some truly nightmarish apparitions, presenting them to us in grisly, garish detail. Even more shocking, though, are the powerhouse revelations Johnson casually drops throughout the narrative. She expertly drops a bombshell in the prologue, one that surprised the hell out of me and ensured my undivided attention. I had to know what was coming next, and I found myself hooked.
The Unhaunting is a masterclass in literary horror. It’s smart, subtle, relevant, and morbidly beautiful. Johnson puts a beautiful twist on the classic haunted house trope, enriching the ghostly narrative with metaphors about mental health and trauma, the price of safety, and the Black experience in America. For my money, it might not only be one of the best horror books of 2026, it just might be one of the best haunted house books ever.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Abernathy House has one sales pitch: nothing bad has ever happened here. Which, if you've ever watched literally any horror movie in your life, is the kind of sentence that should make you back your car into the nearest ditch and leave. Instead, Avery inherits it, announces that it's going to become everyone's fresh start, and Shantell, who has enough survival instincts to be suspicious of free happiness, reluctantly comes along anyway.
The weird part is...the house actually starts helping. Shantell's anxiety eases. Tobias quits chain-smoking. Avery, who has spent years treating emotional depth like it was an optional software update, suddenly starts acting like a person with an inner life. Everybody is healthier. Everybody is calmer. Everybody should be asking a lot more questions than they are.
I loved Shantell because she's the only person in this situation whose first instinct is, "This feels illegal." This woman has lived through enough loss to know that peace usually sends a bill eventually. Avery, meanwhile, keeps believing in the house with the unwavering confidence of a golden retriever who has never once considered that the stick might bite back. Their friendship carries so much history that even when they're arguing, you can feel how badly they want the other person to be okay.
And Tobias quietly wandered in and became one of my favorite people in the book. He's trying to renovate this impossible house while carrying enough emotional baggage to qualify for excess luggage fees. The man cannot swing a hammer without unpacking another layer of grief. Frankly, nobody in Abernathy House needed ghosts. These people were already haunting themselves.
Then the actual ghosts show up.
What I wasn't prepared for was how quickly the haunting stops feeling like the scariest thing in the room. The house isn't just creepy. It's hungry. It wants something. It wants suffering to mean something. It wants history to disappear without anyone paying for it, and that realization is somehow so much more unsettling than another shadow in a hallway or another face in a mirror.
There were stretches where I found myself wanting the middle to move a little faster because it felt like the house kept proving the same point in slightly different ways. But every time I thought I had a handle on what this story was doing, it twisted into something stranger. This isn't interested in asking whether a house can be haunted. It's asking who gets to build a life untouched by tragedy, and who has always been forced to carry the cost.
The emotional gut punch landed in a way I wasn't expecting. Shantell has spent her whole life carrying grief that wasn't fair, wasn't earned, and wasn't chosen. Watching her wrestle with the idea of a place where pain simply...doesn't exist made me realize how impossible that promise actually is. Somebody always pays. The question is whether you're willing to notice who it is.
This was 3.5 stars for me. I loved the premise, loved the way the house itself became such a fascinating presence, and found myself thinking about the ending long after I closed the book. Even when I wanted certain sections to tighten up, I couldn't stop turning over what the house represented once everything clicked into place.
Whodunity Prize: For Making Me Distrust Every House That Claims to Have "Good Bones" From Now Until the End of Time
Thank you to Putnam and NetGalley for the ARC. Next time someone tells me they've inherited a beautiful old Southern mansion where nothing bad has ever happened, I'm blocking their number instead of helping them unpack.
The weird part is...the house actually starts helping. Shantell's anxiety eases. Tobias quits chain-smoking. Avery, who has spent years treating emotional depth like it was an optional software update, suddenly starts acting like a person with an inner life. Everybody is healthier. Everybody is calmer. Everybody should be asking a lot more questions than they are.
I loved Shantell because she's the only person in this situation whose first instinct is, "This feels illegal." This woman has lived through enough loss to know that peace usually sends a bill eventually. Avery, meanwhile, keeps believing in the house with the unwavering confidence of a golden retriever who has never once considered that the stick might bite back. Their friendship carries so much history that even when they're arguing, you can feel how badly they want the other person to be okay.
And Tobias quietly wandered in and became one of my favorite people in the book. He's trying to renovate this impossible house while carrying enough emotional baggage to qualify for excess luggage fees. The man cannot swing a hammer without unpacking another layer of grief. Frankly, nobody in Abernathy House needed ghosts. These people were already haunting themselves.
Then the actual ghosts show up.
What I wasn't prepared for was how quickly the haunting stops feeling like the scariest thing in the room. The house isn't just creepy. It's hungry. It wants something. It wants suffering to mean something. It wants history to disappear without anyone paying for it, and that realization is somehow so much more unsettling than another shadow in a hallway or another face in a mirror.
There were stretches where I found myself wanting the middle to move a little faster because it felt like the house kept proving the same point in slightly different ways. But every time I thought I had a handle on what this story was doing, it twisted into something stranger. This isn't interested in asking whether a house can be haunted. It's asking who gets to build a life untouched by tragedy, and who has always been forced to carry the cost.
The emotional gut punch landed in a way I wasn't expecting. Shantell has spent her whole life carrying grief that wasn't fair, wasn't earned, and wasn't chosen. Watching her wrestle with the idea of a place where pain simply...doesn't exist made me realize how impossible that promise actually is. Somebody always pays. The question is whether you're willing to notice who it is.
This was 3.5 stars for me. I loved the premise, loved the way the house itself became such a fascinating presence, and found myself thinking about the ending long after I closed the book. Even when I wanted certain sections to tighten up, I couldn't stop turning over what the house represented once everything clicked into place.
Whodunity Prize: For Making Me Distrust Every House That Claims to Have "Good Bones" From Now Until the End of Time
Thank you to Putnam and NetGalley for the ARC. Next time someone tells me they've inherited a beautiful old Southern mansion where nothing bad has ever happened, I'm blocking their number instead of helping them unpack.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Unfortunately, this book just wasn't for me. It is very YA even if the characters are in their thirties. I just couldn't find any connection to any of them and the story dragged and was very confusing.
I stopped reading when one of the characters referred to a Y-incision by using the word vivisection, that was just the last drop.
DNF @ 35%
Thank you NetGalley, Penguin General UK and the author for allowing me to be an early reader. All opinions are my own.
I stopped reading when one of the characters referred to a Y-incision by using the word vivisection, that was just the last drop.
DNF @ 35%
Thank you NetGalley, Penguin General UK and the author for allowing me to be an early reader. All opinions are my own.
August 29, 2026
Thank you Putnam for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
This book is so good.
I was expecting a run of the mill haunted house book and got so much more. This book was truly unsettling and had I not had to go to sleep, I would have read through it in one go.
The writing style is immaculate. Not too much description, not too little. Dialogue that feels real. Some passages in this book were moving and lyrical and beautifully expressed.
This book unflinchingly addresses racism, slavery, the experience of being Black in the world. This aspect of the book was especially powerful and elevated it beyond being just a horror novel.
Absolutely loved it. Five easy stars.
This book is so good.
I was expecting a run of the mill haunted house book and got so much more. This book was truly unsettling and had I not had to go to sleep, I would have read through it in one go.
The writing style is immaculate. Not too much description, not too little. Dialogue that feels real. Some passages in this book were moving and lyrical and beautifully expressed.
This book unflinchingly addresses racism, slavery, the experience of being Black in the world. This aspect of the book was especially powerful and elevated it beyond being just a horror novel.
Absolutely loved it. Five easy stars.
July 7, 2026
Anxiety-inducing from start to twisty end, The Unhaunting kept me up all night! As only Micaiah Johnson can deliver, this ingenious spin on the haunted house story explores how privilege, much like Abernathy House, is as mesmerizing as it is cruel, and the price it exacts is nothing short of horrific. Come inside, if you dare.
October 10, 2026
There have been a lot of haunted house stories recently. Haunted houses are, of course, a metaphor. But what is it a metaphor of?
This book has a different metaphor than any other I've read.
Avery and Tobias are brothers, and Avery has inherited an old house outside a small town. They go to inspect it and prepare to renovate, along with Avery's best friend, Shantell. The brothers are white, Shantell is Black. The third-person narration focuses on Shantell, and we get her thoughts but not the brothers'.
Renovation begins, but things are strange. The house isn't badly damaged at all, in fact there's remarkably little for a house this old. Also, they rebuild a porch and that may or may not have been there to begin with, but Shantell thinks the house should have one. Also, strange presences are seen inside.
What's going on? The POV shifts suddenly when a first-person narrator enters the scene. To avoid spoilers I'll call it the Entity. It is clearly not a person and is careful about revealing itself to the humans.
"Nothing bad happens in the big house" as a townsperson puts it. The meaningful word in that sentence is 'in'. This story is about the unacknowledged privilege of well-off families, and the suffering shifted onto others (including minorities) to accommodate the lifestyles of those families. This is a devastating exposure of how privilege works, quietly and relentlessly and often largely unacknowledged by those who are the beneficiaries.
My hat is off to Micaiah Johnson. I've never seen a haunted house metaphor as clearly and cleverly developed, and one that so forcefully deals with the real-world consequences of privilege. I think the biggest problem with the discussion of privilege today is that those who have it swim in a sea of it without realizing it, and those who don't have it have obstacles put in their lives constantly that the privileged don't see, because it doesn't happen to them. This not just a racial thing, it's also a gender thing, and a class thing in those societies that are not white. It can also be a family thing - Avery inherited, Tobias did not.
Of all the haunted house stories I've read in the past five years, this may be the best because of the real-world issues that it deals with.
This book has a different metaphor than any other I've read.
Avery and Tobias are brothers, and Avery has inherited an old house outside a small town. They go to inspect it and prepare to renovate, along with Avery's best friend, Shantell. The brothers are white, Shantell is Black. The third-person narration focuses on Shantell, and we get her thoughts but not the brothers'.
Renovation begins, but things are strange. The house isn't badly damaged at all, in fact there's remarkably little for a house this old. Also, they rebuild a porch and that may or may not have been there to begin with, but Shantell thinks the house should have one. Also, strange presences are seen inside.
What's going on? The POV shifts suddenly when a first-person narrator enters the scene. To avoid spoilers I'll call it the Entity. It is clearly not a person and is careful about revealing itself to the humans.
"Nothing bad happens in the big house" as a townsperson puts it. The meaningful word in that sentence is 'in'. This story is about the unacknowledged privilege of well-off families, and the suffering shifted onto others (including minorities) to accommodate the lifestyles of those families. This is a devastating exposure of how privilege works, quietly and relentlessly and often largely unacknowledged by those who are the beneficiaries.
My hat is off to Micaiah Johnson. I've never seen a haunted house metaphor as clearly and cleverly developed, and one that so forcefully deals with the real-world consequences of privilege. I think the biggest problem with the discussion of privilege today is that those who have it swim in a sea of it without realizing it, and those who don't have it have obstacles put in their lives constantly that the privileged don't see, because it doesn't happen to them. This not just a racial thing, it's also a gender thing, and a class thing in those societies that are not white. It can also be a family thing - Avery inherited, Tobias did not.
Of all the haunted house stories I've read in the past five years, this may be the best because of the real-world issues that it deals with.
October 8, 2026
When Shantell’s best friend Avery inherits a (post-war) plantation home, the two of them join Avery’s brother Tobias at the house for the summer to fix it up. There’s something weird about the house, from the occasional ghost sightings to the disappearing attic to the spooky warnings from the local townsfolk. Except the house isn’t haunted, it just wishes it was.
Like a runaway AI, the house in The Unhaunting isn’t evil because of what it is, but because the instructions that were built into its foundations were warped to begin with. Avery’s great-grandwhoever built the house to be a place where nothing bad can happen, and there are a lot of really wrong ways to interpret that instruction.
Obviously the whole “not haunted but trying to be” plot is new, but what really sets this ghost story apart is the way the story interacts with privilege and blackness and generational grief. Anyone who enjoyed When the Reckoning Comes by LaTanya McQueen or Ring Shout by P. Djèlí Clark will want to pick this one up.
Like a runaway AI, the house in The Unhaunting isn’t evil because of what it is, but because the instructions that were built into its foundations were warped to begin with. Avery’s great-grandwhoever built the house to be a place where nothing bad can happen, and there are a lot of really wrong ways to interpret that instruction.
Obviously the whole “not haunted but trying to be” plot is new, but what really sets this ghost story apart is the way the story interacts with privilege and blackness and generational grief. Anyone who enjoyed When the Reckoning Comes by LaTanya McQueen or Ring Shout by P. Djèlí Clark will want to pick this one up.
September 30, 2026
In a normal third person narrative, the unnamed narrator is an observing presence that can access characters’ histories, thoughts, and actions. A first-person narrator can do much of the same thing; the “I” just tells us who’s speaking, not that the narration is limited to what that speaker is physically seeing in the moment.
The problem in this book is that it switches between an unnamed third-person narrator and passages where the house speaks in first person, then jumps back again. Because both first and third person narrators can describe the characters, their pasts, and what’s happening around them, the information itself doesn’t clearly signal whose perspective we’re in.
Once the house’s first person sections appear, I could no longer tell whether a given passage was coming from the third-person narrator, the house, or just a continuation of the same voice. Entire pages would read as third-person, then a line or two would shift into first person, then slide back, leaving it unclear whether the observations belonged to the house or the original narrator.
Instead of being immersed in the story, I kept having to stop and figure out who was telling me what and how they could know it. That constant confusion is why I DNFed.
The problem in this book is that it switches between an unnamed third-person narrator and passages where the house speaks in first person, then jumps back again. Because both first and third person narrators can describe the characters, their pasts, and what’s happening around them, the information itself doesn’t clearly signal whose perspective we’re in.
Once the house’s first person sections appear, I could no longer tell whether a given passage was coming from the third-person narrator, the house, or just a continuation of the same voice. Entire pages would read as third-person, then a line or two would shift into first person, then slide back, leaving it unclear whether the observations belonged to the house or the original narrator.
Instead of being immersed in the story, I kept having to stop and figure out who was telling me what and how they could know it. That constant confusion is why I DNFed.
August 9, 2026
This was a brilliant and unique twist on the standard haunted house. Having said that, I liked the concept of the story more than I connected with it.
Something about this just didn’t work for me. While the characters were well fleshed out, I just didn’t become attached to them. I think this also stopped me from feeling any real suspense or tension building, and it took me longer to read than it should have. I just wasn’t reaching for it.
With that being said, I can see how this would resonate with and be enjoyed by others.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the free ARC provided in exchange for my honest review
Something about this just didn’t work for me. While the characters were well fleshed out, I just didn’t become attached to them. I think this also stopped me from feeling any real suspense or tension building, and it took me longer to read than it should have. I just wasn’t reaching for it.
With that being said, I can see how this would resonate with and be enjoyed by others.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the free ARC provided in exchange for my honest review
August 13, 2026
As expected of Micaiah Johnson, there were some lines that gave me chills, some that felt like a stiletto (the knife not the shoe) between the ribs, and a few that just felt clever (the “pop star cast in a period piece” was one I really liked).
I really loved how it didn’t shy from any darkness. But when have we known Johnson to shy from darkness? Shantell had such a rough go of things, a life of grief and pain and anxiety, and even as she started to forget it, we really couldn’t because it was such an indisputable fact of her personhood. Seeing how people chose their grief, their pain because it was THEM and not having it would cost pieces of themselves they wouldn’t be willing to lose… it felt heavy and true.
My one gripe was that it started to feel a little slow in the lead-up to the climax. The book isn’t long but it dragged when Shantell and Avery change things up (which I also didn’t like… it felt to me like it cheapened the depth of their friendship from before the house). I did however really love how Shantell and Tobias came to understand each other in the way they did.
{Thank you Putnam for the advanced copy in exchange for my honest review; all thoughts are my own}
I really loved how it didn’t shy from any darkness. But when have we known Johnson to shy from darkness? Shantell had such a rough go of things, a life of grief and pain and anxiety, and even as she started to forget it, we really couldn’t because it was such an indisputable fact of her personhood. Seeing how people chose their grief, their pain because it was THEM and not having it would cost pieces of themselves they wouldn’t be willing to lose… it felt heavy and true.
My one gripe was that it started to feel a little slow in the lead-up to the climax. The book isn’t long but it dragged when Shantell and Avery change things up (which I also didn’t like… it felt to me like it cheapened the depth of their friendship from before the house). I did however really love how Shantell and Tobias came to understand each other in the way they did.
{Thank you Putnam for the advanced copy in exchange for my honest review; all thoughts are my own}
October 3, 2026
*audiobook via Libby*
If I had to describe this in one word, it would be thought-provoking. My brain is reeling, and it's hard to articulate how tremendous I found this to be.
The stark differences in Avery's lived experience versus Shantell's gave an added layer of depth to the characters and how they saw the world. Deeper than race, although that certainly was relevant and forthright in the story. Shantell's heavy grief and self-isolation versus Avery's depression and alcohol addiction. Their strong friendship that never crossed over into romance until they're forced to confront their feelings. The way they both protected and leaned on one another.
But then in the reveal, I was stunned and left wondering how much of it was real and how much was orchestrated by forces beyond their control. And aching to know how Tobias fared.
The parallel of the hungry house and the greed of humans wanting to preserve their dominion over others stood out and left me to ponder how much things transfer down generation after generation if left unchecked. And how shirking responsibility onto others ladens them with cares they should never have to carry.
I'll end this with a quote from Shantell to Tobias that imprinted on me:
"Feeling bad isn't useful if it just makes you do bad things. You might as well put all of that guilt into fixing the things you've actually broken."
If I had to describe this in one word, it would be thought-provoking. My brain is reeling, and it's hard to articulate how tremendous I found this to be.
The stark differences in Avery's lived experience versus Shantell's gave an added layer of depth to the characters and how they saw the world. Deeper than race, although that certainly was relevant and forthright in the story. Shantell's heavy grief and self-isolation versus Avery's depression and alcohol addiction. Their strong friendship that never crossed over into romance until they're forced to confront their feelings. The way they both protected and leaned on one another.
But then in the reveal, I was stunned and left wondering how much of it was real and how much was orchestrated by forces beyond their control. And aching to know how Tobias fared.
The parallel of the hungry house and the greed of humans wanting to preserve their dominion over others stood out and left me to ponder how much things transfer down generation after generation if left unchecked. And how shirking responsibility onto others ladens them with cares they should never have to carry.
I'll end this with a quote from Shantell to Tobias that imprinted on me:
"Feeling bad isn't useful if it just makes you do bad things. You might as well put all of that guilt into fixing the things you've actually broken."
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Thank you to Putnam for an e-arc of this book!
This book is definitely a haunted house book, but it tackles ideas and concepts that are much deeper than that as well. The book was creepy and unsettling at times, but it also made you think. I really liked our main character Shantell.
Shantell was a complicated, but very likeable character. You felt for her the more you read of the book. I enjoyed how the story was unravelling as well. The book itself was very atmospheric, and had lots of little twists and turns. This made the book overall unique, because it was different than what you normally get from a haunted house book.
I feel like the slow buildup in the book helped heighten tensions the further we got along in the book, and that gave me chills.
I would recommend this to anyone who likes a bit of social commentary with their horror, as well as anyone who has enjoyed Tananarive Due, this felt like it had similar broad strokes to it.
This is a book I feel like would be better read if you don't go in knowing too much beforehand! It definitely made things more exciting for me!
This book is definitely a haunted house book, but it tackles ideas and concepts that are much deeper than that as well. The book was creepy and unsettling at times, but it also made you think. I really liked our main character Shantell.
Shantell was a complicated, but very likeable character. You felt for her the more you read of the book. I enjoyed how the story was unravelling as well. The book itself was very atmospheric, and had lots of little twists and turns. This made the book overall unique, because it was different than what you normally get from a haunted house book.
I feel like the slow buildup in the book helped heighten tensions the further we got along in the book, and that gave me chills.
I would recommend this to anyone who likes a bit of social commentary with their horror, as well as anyone who has enjoyed Tananarive Due, this felt like it had similar broad strokes to it.
This is a book I feel like would be better read if you don't go in knowing too much beforehand! It definitely made things more exciting for me!
September 15, 2026
I actually read the first couple of pages initially and couldn't get into it, probably due to a bad brain day. It was a little slow to start, but I quickly became intrigued and I'm glad I tried again. This tackles complex themes of trauma, grief, racism, privilege, and history. It asks what makes us us, if you take all of these things away, take away all the bad, what's left? How much does it cost for things to be good?
I enjoyed the creeping dread, the mystery, and the insidious changes that occurred. The characters were interesting, with realistic relationships and I enjoyed watching the dynamic changes the plot brought. It felt quietly sad overall, and the implications of the house throughout time were devastating, especially in the context of American history and the current sociopolitical climate. It was an intriguing story, brimming with mystery and history. Thank you to NetGalley for the ARC.
I enjoyed the creeping dread, the mystery, and the insidious changes that occurred. The characters were interesting, with realistic relationships and I enjoyed watching the dynamic changes the plot brought. It felt quietly sad overall, and the implications of the house throughout time were devastating, especially in the context of American history and the current sociopolitical climate. It was an intriguing story, brimming with mystery and history. Thank you to NetGalley for the ARC.
Read
October 20, 2026"One of the blurbs for Micaiah Johnson’s highly anticipated new horror novel The Unhaunting is from P. Djèlí Clark: 'Micaiah Johnson has written a novel of unfathomable crimes, privilege, and the buried traumas of our past—that exposes both the horrors of the supernatural and the ones that lurk in our mundane world.' It’s a fitting quote, not just because the book is excellent but also given his body of work. The Unhaunting could be taught alongside Clark’s Ring Shout as explorations of Blackness and racism in American history. It’s that powerful."
Alex Brown reviews Micaiah Johnson's horror novel about racism, grief, and a house that yearns to be haunted.
Alex Brown reviews Micaiah Johnson's horror novel about racism, grief, and a house that yearns to be haunted.
October 1, 2026
Thank you to NetGalley and Putnam for the e-galley!
If you're looking for atmosphere, this book has it in spades, but not in the way one would assume when thinking about its genre. It is tackling some heavy issues like mental health, systemic racism, and all the horrors of being Black in the South, but does it in a unique way. The first half is a bit slow, as there is a lot to delve into and develop, but the second half really ramps up the creep factor as the truth starts to be revealed. If I had a complaint, it would be that the ending was a bit unsatisfying and the romance a bit lackluster. But nonetheless I would recommend this one, and am very glad I gave it a read.
If you're looking for atmosphere, this book has it in spades, but not in the way one would assume when thinking about its genre. It is tackling some heavy issues like mental health, systemic racism, and all the horrors of being Black in the South, but does it in a unique way. The first half is a bit slow, as there is a lot to delve into and develop, but the second half really ramps up the creep factor as the truth starts to be revealed. If I had a complaint, it would be that the ending was a bit unsatisfying and the romance a bit lackluster. But nonetheless I would recommend this one, and am very glad I gave it a read.
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