by Bernard Taylor
“When it began there was no way of knowing that anything had begun.”
With a sad, despairing look back at the untold events of the last few years, we almost instantly know something went horribly wrong at the book’s opening. Then there’s the abrupt shift to a sweet, idealistic family existence where we are deftly swept into the personal lives of the Marlowe family who one evening host a strange, pregnant woman in their house.
The book is 1/5 over by the time a glimpse of horror rears its head, just for an instant. Then, as abruptly as before, we’re treated with the gently stunning story of how the parents, Alan and Kate, first met as young professionals–a very real, enchanting, simple story–and then we’re back into the enveloping family structure that lovingly moves along. One gets a sense of appreciation and even spiritual fulfillment watching the family heal from tragedy and progress through their strength and bonds with each other.
But as we learned at the very beginning, it’s not to be. Only tremendous skill lets us forget while the spell is weaved, and it’s a beautiful, haunting thing.
You’ve been told almost nothing of the plot, very little about the book, and hopefully that’s enough, because you’ll want everything to be as fresh as possible when you sit down to read this.
A sweet, small-town family existence. The foreknowledge that it’s not going to end well. Sensuous, wistful writing that doesn’t waste a word and softly pulls the heart-strings and mists the eyes. But don’t be fooled. While this book is technically horror, it’s really sheer terror, and it’ll hit you in that one place you can never escape: home.
The Godsend is a brilliantly crafted tapestry of love and triumph, panic and doom, giving you no chance to put it down. Go get it, and happy Halloween.