From New York Times best-selling and Edgar Award-winning author Ben H. Winters, this supernatural page-turner about a real-estate nightmare will make you think twice about your dream home.
Susan and Alex Wendt have found their dream apartment in a gorgeous Brooklyn brownstone.
Sure, the landlady is a little eccentric. And the elderly handyman drops some cryptic remarks about the basement. But the rent is so low, it’s too good to pass up.
Big mistake. Susan awakens every morning with fresh bug bites, but neither Alex nor their daughter, Emma, has a single welt. An exterminator searches the property and turns up nothing. The landlady insists her building is clean. Susan fears she’s going mad—until she makes a chilling discovery in the bonus room.
Filled with Hitchcockian suspense, The Bonus Room is a horrifying tale of a dream home that becomes a nightmare.
Ben H. Winters is the author most recently of the novel The Quiet Boy (Mulholland/Little, Brown, 2021). He is also the author of the novel Golden State; the New York Times bestselling Underground Airlines; The Last Policeman and its two sequels; the horror novel Bedbugs; and several works for young readers. His first novel, Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters, was also a Times bestseller. Ben has won the Edgar Award for mystery writing, the Philip K. Dick award in science fiction, the Sidewise Award for alternate history, and France’s Grand Prix de L’Imaginaire.
Ben also writes for film and television. He is the creator and co-showrunner of Tracker, forthcoming on CBS. Previously he was a producer on the FX show Legion, and on the upcoming Apple TV+ drama Manhunt.
He has contributed short stories to many anthologies, as well as in magazines such as Lightspeed. He is the author of four “Audible Originals”– Stranger, Inside Jobs, Q&A, and Self Help — and several plays and musicals. His reviews appear frequently in the New York Times Book Review. Ben was born in Washington, D.C., grew up in Maryland, educated in St. Louis, and then grew up a bunch more, in various ways, in places like Chicago, New York, Cambridge, MA, and Indianapolis, IN. These days he lives in LA with his wife, three kids, and one large dog.
A chaotic horror experience, The Bonus Room is overall effective, if tonally inconsistent, starting out as a quiet psychological horror, but in its last act flips the script 180, becoming a campy, visceral, in-your-face creature horror. Losing some threads and abandoning logic along the way, I can see readers be annoyed by this sudden switcheroo and lack of a proper lead-up, but I was in the mood for something unhinged, and this fit the bill perfectly.
Post-reading, I found out The Bonus Room is actually a re-titled re-release of Bedbugs from 2011; which may explained why even with Ben H. Winters being a relatively established author, there was so little buzz about this from earlier this year.
Intentional or not, The Bonus Room reminds me of schlocky, low-budget horror films from the 80s, the unheard-of kind you stumble upon on the shelves of video rental stores. Not the most polished, but packs a punch and have nifty ideas buried among its rough patches If you're in the mood for something a little bombastic and not at all caring about nuances (I got the same 'vibe' from this as The Stranger Upstairs by Lisa M. Matlin), this short novel is worth checking out.
Thank you to NetGalley and Quirk Books (is that not the most fantastic name?) for providing a copy of this novel for review.
I have been a Ben H. Winters fan for a while. From the originality of the alt-history work 𝙐𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝘼𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨, to the intrigue of the post-apocalyptic dystopian novel 𝙂𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚, to the tenderness of much-more-than a courtroom drama that is 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙌𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩 𝘽𝙤𝙮, Winters delivers great care with his characters. The author often focuses on redemption for the commonly flawed. His main characters have a pattern of seeking absolution during times of great oppression and/or chaos. This is a major theme in his apocalyptic end-of-the-world trilogy 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙇𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙋𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙣 series (the third book is the ringer).
So, imagine my surprise to learn that Winters had released a horror novel! I'm a big fan of horror especially that which isn't just gory with body horror, but rather centers a deeply disturbing psychological element. This fits that bill. Yes, it is creepy, even in the crawly way, but I am as entomophobic as the next reader, and I was perfectly fine, so I am certain you will be, too. (Think metaphorically. It really helps.)
This novel is actually a re-release of Winter's 2011 novel 𝑩𝒆𝒅𝒃𝒖𝒈𝒔, with a more palatable title, and most definitely a wider audience than its debut generated, now that the author is much more well-known. The story follows a couple who get a lot more than they bargained for when they find a great apartment for rent in Brooklyn.
The author employs subtle foreshadowing via color, texture, and beckoning spaces, even the wild witheredness of the outside lot seems like a message. The reader senses warnings the characters dismiss. A whiff of something startling, unsettling, a scent of danger, brushes by the otherwise enchanted Susan. A cautious and quiet conversation between Susan's husband Alex, and the prospective landlord Andrea, completes the five senses of foreboding. This couple has never heard of my rule that you spend one night in a place before you commit to living there. Also its corollary: anything too good to be true probably is.
The couple themselves appear at first to be rather ordinary, their main identifying traits being of an artistic bent. They have minor disputes about money, and they navigate the usual challenges of balancing marriage, work, and family. They both have stifled their true ambitions to some extent, which causes the majority of the tension in their relationship. The few ways the couple differentiate from each other are in terms of power dynamics, and personality type. Their young daughter is confident, charming, and and precocious in the modern way today's kids are.
Often, readers will refer to how *relatable* a main character seems, but my approach is different: how real do they seem? In this case, I actually do find the character Susan to be relatable in one major context: the "since you're not working right now" implicit pressure on the spouse who isn't bringing in any income, to earn their worth by doing everything. As it turns out, that's probably the only thing the character and I had in common, but it meant something to me for the author to acknowledge it. Susan's quibbles with their nanny seemed the only thing that didn't fit, to me, in this story. Even having a nanny at all. Maybe that's an upper middle class New York thing?
The author invites us to consider how much of what couples really feel about each other gets expressed, and how much is stuffed down, ostensibly to keep the peace, but which will bubble up, like lava, in other ways. In this story, no detail is unimportant, and each accentuates the mood of the narrative, as it takes a steady, wide turn. The generalized discomfiture begins to take a manifest shape. The atmosphere of the new apartment is changing Susan's personality; she becomes more insistent, impatient and brusque, to an embarrassing degree. This perfectly sets her up to not be taken seriously, to be seen as emotional rather than rational.
The main focus remains squarely on the house itself, its idiosyncrasies, and the mysterious bonus room and the off-limits basement. The creepiness is rising. And whether we choose to believe it or not, there exists a great deal of evidence that certain places can be imprinted by strong emotions and past events. Call it supernatural or paranormal, but the sheer number of examples cannot rule out the existence of slippery things, simply because they are hard to explain.
At the one third mark, I began intensely to dislike Susan, who seemed selfish, unreasonable, and kind of obtuse, which is ironic, because that's exactly how Susan sees others in her orbit. Is the house causing her to project? What effects is it having on her, over time, or was she always this [forgive me] entitled White-woman insufferable? We are meant to have conflicting feelings regarding her character.
As an aside, if you can, do actually play the music Susan has on while she paints frenetically. Not because it's fast-paced. It's not. Bach's "Mass in B Minor" is more of a mesmerizing, otherworldly, hypnotic piece. By playing it along side the character, you really get a feel for the kind of induced fever trance of this eerie particular episode in the bonus room.
As Susan's growing paranoia begins to take over her consciousness, what does she suspect? What does she believe? There is the evil you can see, and the evil you can't see. Which is worse?
Cleverly, Winters includes recognizable elements of characters from other classic stories: Gregor Samsa, Dorian Gray, Kathleen Lutz, Wendy Torrance, even Paula Anton.
There is a mystery here, a shadow truth more diabolical than we had guessed, something worse than the heebie jeebies, something closer to the Twilight Zone movie in which an airline passenger insists a gremlin is trying to sabotage the plane, but no one believes him, dismissing him as delusional.
I won't give away what happens at the end, but boy is it highly climactic!
I cannot wait to see what genre this author writes in next, and I'm hoping for weird fiction, because this seems like a perfect segue.
I know that for many people (especially in cities), bedbugs are a practically existential horror. Let's imagine, now, an extra layer of dread and paranoia on top of one's baseline bedbug fear, and you can see what works in this book. It's piggybacking on whatever bedbug experience one brings to it -- the book seems to have originally been published as Bedbugs in 2011, in the wake of a bedbug outbreak in New York City the previous year, so I'm sure it would have really captured some people's imaginations at the time -- but hey, other horror books piggyback on people's fears of clowns, murderers, sharks, what have you. And there's some suitably creepy imagery here, which I found effective.
Unfortunately, while certain scenes work in isolation, the plot as a whole really falls apart especially at the end. The book tries to ride the line between "this is a real cosmic horror" and "this is the portrait of a mentally ill person falling apart" but when it finally breaks toward one of the two the surrounding details don't really make any sense (). It's a frustrating ending. One imagines a shorter, more open-ended (and frankly, less "happy-ending"-ish) version of this story that would be really great.
There's something particularly illimitable about Urban Horror, specifically here New York City, although this category has been successfully applied to Paris and Tokyo too, London, Edinburgh...
From almost the beginning, THE BONUS ROOM [formerly BEDBUGS, 2011] has a gentle and subtle frisson of ROSEMARY'S BABY. I guess that in a city of millions in population, statistically there are bound to be some weirdos; and not unlikely that some of those are in a sufficient economic status to be homeowners and landlords. THE BONUS ROOM doesn't so much riff ROSEMARY'S BABY as it just offers a subtle scent of it, like a memory at the corner of the eye.
This is my first novel by Ben H. Winters. I found it very well done, a seriously subtle approach of Horror, a Horror that emphasizes many different aspects of the senses: vision, audition, olfactory, tactility. The secondary characters "could be" victims of psychological divergence [diverging from human normality], or they could be actually evil. Then there's the character mutation of the husband (another factor of ROSEMARY'S BABY), subtly creeping on little kitty feet (allegorical) while the wife has reason to believe she may be losing contact with consensus reality too. All in all, a high price to pay, solely to live in the apartment of one's dreams!
For me at least, there is a creeping sense of dread [decades of Horror have rendered this reviewer incapable of hope for a happy ending once we see what's behind the curtain]. As with the protagonist, Susan, we feel the anxiety, the dread; we just can't pinpoint exactly WHY.
"Bedbugs hide under mattresses and in the corners of doorframes; badbugs hide in the crevices of human history, in the instants between seconds, in the synapses between thoughts. When bedbugs latch on, they feast on blood for ten minutes and fall away; badbugs feast not only on blood, but on body and soul. And when they latch on, they feast forever."
This book is wicked, sinister, intense. It will crawl around, make you itch, cause your tiny hairs to stand on end. It will haunt you.
This was riveting, captivating, so well written it pulled me in and refused to let go. I bonded with Susan, her life, her new landlady, new apartment. And then I tumbled with her down a deep, dark chasm.
Fast-paced and creepy; every page invokes further feelings of dread and paranoia Susan (MC) is experiencing. A psychological horror which focuses on a woman's descent into madness--but is she really? A fun take on the classic tale of a dream home turned nightmare. Definitely not a character driven book which was totally fine by me.
The synopsis of The Bonus Room (formerly under the title Bedbugs) made me giggle and then be horrified. Brooklyn New York is the setting and an old historic brown house is the environment where everything happens. Sometimes a dream house is truly a nightmare if you look long and close enough. Alex and Susan Wendt thought they had found the ultimate home. With a cast of characters such as an eccentric landlady and a elderly handyman and let's not forget the basement. And oh the bug bites-ewww. The bugs make for a creepy addition to the home.! Susan is the only one who is bitten by the bedbugs Alex and their daughter Emma aren't. Great book creepy and spooky at the same time. Thank you to Quirk Books for the review copy in exchange for an honest review.
Okay, I'm itchy now. Haha I really enjoyed this read. It made me so uneasy and paranoid about bugs on me while I was reading. This was shorter than 250 pages. Quick and easy read!
The Bonus Room by Ben H. Winters. Thanks to @quirkbooks and @netgalley for the gifted Arc ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Susan and Alex have found the perfect affordable Brooklyn home for them and their daughter. After moving in Susan wakes every morning with bug bites, but only Susan. No one can find any bugs and Susan thinks she’s going crazy. Until she finds a discovery in the apartments bonus room.
This is a perfect fast paced and quick read for horror fans. It’s intense, but not long winded or complicated. It would be a good starter book for those wanting to get into horror. If you have a sensitivity to bugs, do not read this book. I’m very serious. Parts bothered me and I have a regular mild annoyance to bugs. No matter what, you are going to feel them creeping on you while reading this one.
“The bedbugs were more than bedbugs, they weren’t going anywhere, and they could not be escaped.”
I struggled with this one at first - the writing style felt a bit flat, and I found it hard to get into. Which was a shame, because I was really excited about the premise - a couple moves into what seems like the perfect Brooklyn brownstone, but soon the wife, Susan, starts waking up with mysterious bites. No one else in the house is affected, and as her paranoia grows, she begins to question whether there’s really an infestation or if something far more sinister is at play 🤔
Thankfully, I stuck with it because descent into madness stories are my favourite, and once things started unravelling, I actually really enjoyed it. The slow-burn tension works well, giving it a bit of a ‘Rosemary’s Baby’ vibe.
That said, be warned—this book will make you feel itchy! 🩸
Best to go in blind but just know, you will be second guessing the whole way through whether or not Susan is going mad or if they really have bedbugs. You will start to imagine teeny tiny creepy crawly insects pinging around the room, barely detectable. You will think they are crawling along your skin as you're turning the pages. By the end, you'll wonder if you might just have bedbugs too.
**I received a free ARC from Quirk Books via Netgalley.
That was just horrifying and disgusting and creepy and vile and chilling. I did not like bugs before and I like them even less now. Blechhh!!! I think I need a thousand showers and a bleach bath. That's all to say, this was really well done and did what I imagine the author intended.
This was an absolute joy to read! In saying that, it's also so riddled with tension and anxiety but in the best possible way
I dont know what I was expecting when I started this but it definitely wasn't what I ended up getting. In some ways it's a psychological thriller, in others a horror vibe. It veers from a nice wee domestic noir to a slow descent into madness and the reader having no clue what's real and what's not.
The characters are well written. I loved the relationships and the dynamics between the characters. They're well written and realistic and so so compelling.
The story is quite a simple one but it's so vividly told and the writing style really does make the reader get swept up in what's going on. There are a few twists and turns and the ending is quite the shocker.
I've enjoyed several books by Mr. Winters, enough that when I saw an ARC of his forthcoming novel available, I didn't hesitate to check it out.
I read half this book thinking, "Wow, weird that this author would write a second book about bedbugs...." If only I'd read to the end of the synopsis, I would have found this essential info: "Previously published in 2011 as Bedbugs."
I gave it 5 stars when it was originally published, but I guess I'm a harsher grader now. Plus, it tricked me! Mean, republished book.
I hadn't realized before I read this book that it was Ben H. Winter's 'Bedbugs' republished under a different name—not that it took anything away from the reading experience, it's just that I've had Bedbugs sitting on my shelf unread for YEARS, so I'm glad I finally got to it.
Disclaimer: Do not read this book while lying in your bed. Or your couch. Or any porous surface of any kind. better yet, reading it standing up. In the middle of a parking lot, preferably. The Bonus Room was a nightmare of a book, in the best sense. It was the kind of deliberately and indulgently slow narrative that aims to drive both the characters and the reader mad—and mad I was driven. I don't think I'll ever forget the slow unravelling that Winters subjected us to as we're left to wonder if the narrator is truly the unreliable type (which I enjoy), or the type that is truthful to a fault but is ignored due to their position in the world, or their own home (which I also enjoy). Susan was the perfect character to appoint the story's main dilemma with. She was content, but just barely so, and thus perfectly prone to the specific horrors that were occurring (or not occurring), because why not? What's one more problem?
I originally rated this book a 3, because I may not have been in the right mind to read a slow-burn narrative, and there were dialogue and writing-device choices that weren't my favourite, but after reading it exactly 2 months ago now, I still haven't been able to get it out of my head—and that means something, right? Sometimes you just need to stew in it a little.
"The Bonus Room" by Ben H. Winters is a psychological thriller that tells the story of Susan and Alex, a couple who move into a new home with their young daughter. Susan is an artist and is excited about having a dedicated space to create her artwork. However, the room she chooses to use as her studio is not listed on the floor plan, and it seems to have a strange scent and feel. As Susan works on her painting, she begins to feel uneasy. She starts to notice strange marks on her body and suspects that the house is infested with bed bugs. Susan becomes obsessed with getting rid of the bed bugs and spends all of her time trying to eradicate them. As the infestation worsens, Susan's mental state begins to worsen, and she starts to experience vivid hallucinations and nightmares. She becomes convinced that the house is haunted and that the bed bugs are a manifestation of something more sinister.
As the tension builds, Susan's relationship with her husband starts to strain, and she becomes increasingly isolated and paranoid. In a sudden manic frenzy, she tries to murder her husband with a knife, convinced that he brought the bed bugs into the house by cheating on her. Eventually, he is able to overpower her and locks her in The Bonus Room. He tells her he is leaving and taking their daughter with him. An exterminator who they had called earlier comes and frees Susan after bed bugs have swarmed Susan. She takes care of Susan and starts to get rid of the bugs. In a sudden turn of events the landlady comes and kills the exterminator, she then throws Susan into the basement via an air vent. Susan wakes up in a garbage bin with her legs broken. After some struggle, she realizes that an old tenant who had the same obsession as her is dead and in the bin with her. The landlady opens the bin and it reveals that she is the one who is infested with the bugs. Once she leaves Susan starts to rock back and forth, eventually causing the bin to fall allowing her to access a gun and shoot the landlady as she comes back. The story ends with Susan making a full recovery, and her marriage going back to normal.
Like many novels of this genre, "The Bonus Room" aims to evoke emotion, namely: fright, horror, disgust, and fear. Finding a theme for "The Bonus Room" was difficult, even so, a theme I found is how validation for victims of trauma and people with mental disorders is so important. Susan is the only person who can see the bugs; her doctor and husband also dismiss her experience and essentially call her crazy. I think that this denial of her situation made her mental state worse and caused even more strain. This shows the importance of validation and support for people with mental health issues. A connection I made was that at one point in the book, Susan and her family notice a strange pinging in their living room. One day she decides to tell the landlady, and subsequently the pinging stops. It is revealed at the end that the previous tenant, Jessica Spender, was trapped in the same bin that Susan would end up in. To try and escape, Jessica was tapping her metal wedding ring against a glass air pipe. This part of the story felt evocative of Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart.”
Overall, I enjoyed "The Bonus Room," however, there were some parts that I did not enjoy. The first half of the story was quite good, suspenseful, dramatic, and lots of foreshadowing, but once you cross the halfway point, everything starts to unfold and it becomes a boring, jumbled mess that doesn’t really make sense. The events of the book are not realistic at all since it deals with the semi-supernatural, a person going insane because of bed bugs is a thing that could happen, but their landlady making a pact with evil super secret bed bugs just seems a little unlikely. "The Bonus Room" was an engaging book 70 percent of the time, with lots of action and things happening along with terrifying moments, the other 30 percent of the time just feels dragged on and tedious. Winters’ writing style feels very chronological, without much going into the past of the characters or their thoughts/memories. I give the book four out of five. It was fun, scary, intense, and interesting, but at the same time, it felt rushed at the end and the resolution felt out of place and too positive for the rest of the book.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Susan Wendt, her husband Alex, and their toddler daughter have been cramped in their one-bedroom apartment for far too long. Susan is keen to move into a bigger place. However, money has been tight ever since they agreed Susan would quit working to focus on her art. When she finds an ad on Craigslist for a two-bedroom for rent in Brooklyn for under $4,000 per month, it seems too good to be true. Thinking it’s probably a scam, they check it out anyway and fall in love. The spacious apartment is perfect for their family. There’s even a bonus room that Susan can use as a studio for her painting. The elderly landlady Andrea is a bit eccentric, but they take to her as quickly as she does to them.
Everything seems perfect as they move into their new home. But Susan knows it’s not. She believes Alex resents her for quitting her career and putting such a huge strain on him. He assures her that he’s supportive of her and shows it with his actions, but she doesn’t believe him. After all, a supportive husband wouldn’t sneak around with the nanny behind her back like she’s convinced he’s doing. He may not admit there’s anything wrong in their marriage, but she knows there is.
The same is true with their new home. Susan starts to notice things wrong with the apartment, like the uneven floorboard on the landing, a pinging sound whose source she can’t locate, and the rancid smell of cat piss in her precious bonus room. Then, there are the bedbugs. The apartment is infested even if nobody else, not even an exterminator, can see them. There are bites on her body to prove it. But when her sanity comes into question, she knows she has to take care of everything herself with her husband, the nanny, and especially the bedbugs.
Ominous, unsettling, and yet mesmeric, The Bonus Room by Ben H. Winters is many things all at once. It’s a dark psychological thriller with mentally stressed characters to mess with your mind. It’s a horror story that makes your skin crawl. And it’s a suspense novel that fills you with so much anxiety, your buttocks clench the seat beneath you as you read.
Reminiscent of Hitchcock, the story is written using a linear narrative style — or in chronological order — meaning there isn’t a dual timeline or flashbacks. It makes the book easy to read, but it’s also what makes your skin crawl. The tension increases as the story is told, as does your sense of fear and unease. While it’s the thought of bedbugs that make you itch, but it’s the narrative style used by the author that gives you such a strong, growing sense of the creeps. The Bonus Room is so shiver-inducing and masterfully written, it’s clear why Ben H. Winters has won so many awards. After this book, the makers of Calamine Lotion probably owe him a commission.
Thank you to Ben H. Winters and Quirk Books for the complementary eARC in exchange for a fair, unbiased review.
When Alex and Susan visit the apartment on Cranberry Street, Susan immediately knows they need to live here. It’s less than $4000 a month which is a steal for Brooklyn, has more room for their daughter and has the bonus room which she finally turn into an art studio of her own. It might be a bit old, and they might not be allowed in the basement but it’s perfect.
It’s a dream come true - until the nightmare starts. Strange noises in the air, the sensation of crawling on her skin, strange dots of a blood-like substance on her pillow, the shadow something scuttling in the corner of her eye. But the landlady swears it’s fine, and the exterminator agrees — so if it’s not a bug infestation, what is it?
“She had a powerful memory, of walking through the living room in the silence and darkness, of being watched. She almost said it, almost said ‘I felt them watching me’, but then didn’t."
TBR is a subtle, sinister little story — one that doesn’t rely on blood and shocks to frighten, but instead engages all the senses and invokes a deep sense of dread that you just can’t figure out and leaves you will a chill in your spine.
The setting is dark, visceral and evocative, creating a strange balance of realism and horror in seemingly normal places. Everything has a malicious aura, which makes it difficult to work out where or who this evil energy is coming from. A shadow is cast over everybody and everything, and as we slowly learn about the lives of our characters it doesn’t make it any clearer — they are so very human and could either be villains or victims, everyone capable or great good or terrible evil.
As our main narrator, watching Susan’s anxiety turn into almost a silent descent into feverish paranoia and chaos was morbidly compelling — I felt her isolation, her fear, her anger that she was the only one worried about his unholy infestation. It was compulsive, obsessive and utterly maddening.
For all fellow horror lovers, TBR is one that needs to be on your TBR lists - but don’t read it before bed.
When Barnes & Noble put this book in the horror section, and I read the title, I immediately thought of some secret serial killer hiding in the walls type of horror story. And then I read the book. It felt like a slog to get through, and half the time I felt like I was reading chapters just to get them over with. Granted, when I bought the book I was really interested in reading it and then hadn't touched it in quite a while.
I have to say, I really like the characters. I like their human struggles, and to be honest, my favorite was their old land lady. When she was introduced I was thinking 'surely she must be some evil killer' and then when she stopped the kid from going into the basement my first thought was that something was hiding down there. I was not expecting, however, for there to be no actual threat. It felt more like a mystery than it did a horror book. Granted, it was more like a psychological thriller but the description on the back didn't exactly clue me into that.
What sold me is the character, but what took me out of it was the lack of suspense or surprise. Or even satisfaction from the ending. She, Susan Wendt our main character, is afraid to check her pillow for bedbugs. I can understand using suspension of disbelief, but the main villain uses bedbugs to murder people. At that point just kill them yourself and stash the bodies in the basement. I can admit this was beautifully written book, and the author is no doubt wonderful with creating real, live people on the pages, but the execution of the plot until the very end just felt... boring. And I feel bad saying that because this book has potential!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
When Lucy finds a two bedroom apartment in Brooklyn that’s way cheaper than her and husband Alex wanted to pay Alex thinks it is a scam but when they arrive and meet the kind landlady Andrea Lucy knows she desperately wants to live there. When they veiw the home and Andrea shows them the spare room Lucy feels she must have this house. She quit working to pursue her art a couple of years before but has yet to start painting and this room would be a perfect studio so she is over the moon when Alex says let’s just take it. The night before they move little three-year-old Emma has a nightmare about her grandpa melting and chasing her but this is nothing compared to the strangeness that starts happening when they move in to their dream home. This is a great book because you don’t know if they are really having a problem with bedbugs supernatural T‘s or Lucy is just losing her mind but it is so much fun reading the story to find out. I love a good haunted house story in something as horrible as bedbugs in a changing painting I mean what could be scarier than that and throw in your spouse not believing any of it only heightens the drama. This was such a great book and I could imagine it being a movie with a horrible picture that Lucy painted in a frenzy might I iPad this whole book was awesome I truly and thoroughly enjoyed it if you love a good out of the ordinary horror story then you definitely love The Bonus Room by Ben H Winters . I want to thank Net Galley and quirk books for my free Ark copy please forgive any mistakes as I am blind and dictate my review.
The Bonus Room is a creepy, pop-fiction tale of infestation and terror.
Susan and Alex Wendt find their dream apartment in Brooklyn at a bargain price but soon find out all is not quite as it seems.
At its foundations, Winter's novel is a strong, fast-paced tale with some really immersive, frantic passages, which I greatly enjoyed. It’s a good offering if you like a light touch, spooky story. The imagery of the bugs and the house were rich with detail and uncomfortable in a good way!
However, I found the main character, Susan, to be a bit unlikeable and confusing. At points, Walter's voice came through in some of Susan's observations, especially her interactions with and descriptions of their babysitter.
This is, of course, just my unprofessional opinion. It's a point that I don't feel detracts too much from the strength of an otherwise immersive narrative. But, if you are a fan of feminist fiction, this novel might not be the right choice for you.
Fundamentally, this is a great, retro romp back to the 80s and 90s horror genre but set in modern-day Brooklyn. I can see it making vintage horror fans giddy with excitement. So if you like creepy books that don't take themselves too seriously, then The Bonus Room might leave you 'itching' for more!
Thank you to Netgalley for providing an e-arc of this book!
This book made me itchy and grossed out in the best way possible.
Susan and Alex Wendt move into a new upstairs apartment with their daughter Emma. They have an elderly landlord and elderly maintenance man. Quiet enough, right? Wrong. Susan wakes up with bug bites and is convinced there are bedbugs. However, neither Alex nor Emma has a single bite. An exterminator cannot find any evidence of the bedbugs either. Susan is taken to the doctor and is told the problem is all in her head essentially. She knows she’s not crazy but the problem is convincing everyone else something is wrong.
It’s best to go into this book as blindly as possible. This was a unique take on a horror thriller book and was unlike anything I have read before. It was fast paced and had an easy-to-read writing style. It was originally published under the name Bedbugs. I think that title is more intriguing but maybe people were put off by it or something. Anyways, pick this one up if you want a unique thriller/horror read, would recommend!!!
Thank you Ben H. Winters, NetGalley, and Quirk Books for the ARC of this book.
Coming in at a lean 253 pages, I started The Bonus Room on a Thursday and finished it the next day, so it has genuine page-turning quality. The first half is undoubtedly the strongest, where the scene is beautifully set with events slowly amplifying. I would not quite call the second part an anticlimax, but it gets slightly repetitive and perhaps I expected more to happen as it gears up for an ending which is out of kilter with what precedes it. If you are looking for a scary haunted house or The Amityville Horror-type of horror, then The Bonus Room might disappoint you. It is much subtler and more psychological than that, with main character Susan Wendt finding herself struggling to settle in her new rented apartment on 56 Cranberry Street, Brooklyn, New York.
You can read Tony's full review at Horror DNA by clicking here.
Susan and Alex have found a beautiful apartment in a Brooklyn brownstone for themselves and their daughter Emma to call home instead of their current cramped quarters. Though their landlady, Andrea, is a bit eccentric and seems to suddenly rove between a kindly older lady to a woman recalling dark things and the gentle handyman mentions some things in passing that linger in Susan’s mind, this opportunity was too good to pass up with the rent being unbelievably low. While Alex is kept busy trying to keep his photography business afloat, Susan is meant to be rekindling her painting, in the small bonus room in the apartment that Susan had immediately envisioned as her studio; but with bed bugs in the headlines and Susan waking to bug bites she is quickly convinced that they have an infestation and wonders if it was related to the former tenants leaving so suddenly. With Susan the only one suffering from these bug bites she becomes increasingly obsessed with finding and proving that the apartment has bed bugs, which leads her to an alarming discovery in the bonus room that dramatically shifts her perspective of the apartment and her landlady.
A swiftly moving story that easily captures attention and is descriptive such that it could make you feel a bit itchy, the events that take place ratchet up in intensity as time progresses and raise questions about Susan’s state of mind in the process. While there were local events that fed the images that filled Susan’s mind with a reasonable, rational basis to stoke fear and paranoia, which were presented well throughout the story, there was a reliance on medications and sleep issues in presenting Susan as unreliable, which is a tactic that has been pervasively used and lessens the efficacy as a result; similarly, Susan’s character devolves into her being seen as mentally unstable as she obsesses over the bed bugs and pieces together just what is taking place, and has previously taken place, within the brownstone, which is revealed in a rather surreal and overly rapid manner for a wild turn at the end.
This was a fun, fast read. The Bonus Room begins in classic horror fashion: with a family moving into a new home that seems too good to be true. The price is incredibly cheap, the building is great, and the landlady is fun and quirky. As you might guess, it is definitely to good to be true, and watching everything unravel was great (and gross) fun.
I will say that this is not the book for you if you have a bug phobia—the author states that the original title was Bedbugs (shudder) and it lives up to that name. After I finished I wanted to check my sheets and mattress for creepy crawlies. Pick this one up if you’re in the mood for a riff on classic horror…but maybe make sure you’ve got an exterminator on speed dial.
Thanks to the publisher and to NetGalley for an early copy of this book.
I. Cannot. Stop. Itching. However, this was an absolute delight to read. I appreciate how the author combined psychological and body horror, it was done so well and kept the pacing quick and interesting. The descent into Susan’s “madness” was terrifying, I had to stop reading at some points because I didn’t like being in her head. It’s the mark of a great horror writer and storyteller when the reader becomes disturbed by what is on the page, yet can’t help but to devour the story to find out what happens next.
**Special thanks to NetGalley and Quirk Books for sharing this digital review copy in exchange for honest feedback**