Reviewed by Ephantus Gold
“The House Guests: A Novel” by Amber and Danielle Brown was a book that did not ease me in gently but grabbed me by the collar right from the first page. It began with Iris as she remembered the most haunting thing in her life, being forced to watch her own mother take her life in front of her. The gun had been bought from a pawn shop with money her mother had stolen from the most unlikely person where she worked. That opening was shocking and honestly disturbing and it set the tone for what turned out to be a raw and unsettling journey. Purchase Here.
Iris had already been scarred by years of neglect and abuse from her mother, and those wounds never healed. She kept having nightmares, she could not sleep without chemicals in her system, and the chaos in her head never seemed to stop. Even with all that, she still tried to hide her desperation from her boyfriend Eli, holding on quietly to the hope that he would not leave her. When I found them, they were on their way to a lonely lake, Eli’s idea of the cure for her constant torment, and maybe a way out of the heavy block of stone she had been buried under for over a year.
At the lake, Iris came across something that rattled me as much as it did her. A strange man was bent over the dirt, digging frantically like he wanted to hide something or someone. The image burned into her, and when Eli’s friends later joined her, she tried to tell them but none of them believed her. They mocked her, saying it was her bad eyesight, and when she mistook a doll for a severed arm, she was ridiculed even more. Eli himself did not defend her when he joined them but only grew colder, turning his attention toward another woman. The doubt took over, and I kept asking myself the same thing Iris did – Was she truly losing her mind, or was she the only one who saw the truth nobody else dared to face? That scene pushed the story into deeper dread and put doubts in me about who to trust.
The structure of the story felt like a slow spiral where every step down brought more uncertainty, moving from strange sightings, like when one of the friends claimed to see a skull, to Iris’ sleepless nights, trapped in her own fear. That layering of dread made the book heavy and claustrophobic. The prose itself worked like a trap, sharp and unsettling, even in quiet moments. All of it carried menace. So when betrayal came, it hit harder, especially because Eli never stood by her.
The characters were painfully real in how frustrating they were. Iris clung to Eli and his love, but he mocked her fragility and eventually discarded her like she was nothing. In the worst turn, he even handed her over to a friend, like she was a thing to be passed to the highest bidder. That made him more terrifying than any ghostly shadow or imagined figure in the story. Her friends were no better, brushing off her fears, mocking her mistakes, leaving her completely alone.
Trust, betrayal, and gaslighting ran through every page. I kept asking if Iris was imagining everything or if she was the only one who refused to be silenced. “The House Guests: A Novel” kept that question alive, not only about Iris but about the people around her. That was what made it devastating, and yet I could not look away.