In A Madness Unmade, Erin K. Larson-Burnett weaves a captivating tale of gothic mystery and necromantic power, drawing readers into the haunting world of Laurel Rumbroom, the last guardian of the Underhallow. This sanctuary for restless spirits, established under the Revenant Accords, has long offered protection to the dead—until Laurel’s world is turned upside down. With her father’s sudden death, the burden of maintaining the sanctuary falls entirely on her shoulders, and as the Underhallow’s security unravels, so, too, does Laurel’s sense of reality. Desperate for answers, she seeks help from the very spirits she protects but soon discovers that the line between friend and foe may be more tenuous than she ever imagined.

From the opening pages, Larson-Burnett introduces a world where death is not a finality but a complex, ongoing journey. Laurel’s life is anything but ordinary. Between managing spectral beings and grappling with French lessons, she walks a delicate line between the ghostly and the mundane, a balance that gives the novel its unique charm. It’s in this interplay between the supernatural and the everyday that A Madness Unmade finds its rhythm, combining dark fantasy with moments of levity in unexpected ways.

The heart of the story, however, lies in Laurel’s personal evolution. She is a character shaped by grief—haunted not only by spirits but by memories of her father, whose death is shrouded in mystery. As her necromantic abilities awaken, Laurel’s journey becomes one of self-discovery, fraught with the tension of whether she can resurrect her father or if she is chasing an impossible dream. This internal conflict adds emotional weight to her character arc, elevating the stakes beyond the supernatural. The deeper Laurel dives into her own power, the more the novel explores profound themes of loss, obsession, and the cost of meddling with forces beyond life itself. The novel’s darker tones rise as Laurel faces the harrowing truths about her father’s spirit. His betrayal, the ghostly taunts, and the omnipresent moths—symbols of death reanimated by Laurel’s magic—add layers of eerie symbolism. Larson-Burnett’s writing intensifies toward the climax, creating an atmosphere thick with urgency and difficult choices. The final scenes leave a lasting impact, a bittersweet meditation on the cost of necromancy and the fragile, painful hope that drives Laurel forward.

Yet despite its grim undertones, A Madness Unmade is not without warmth. Laurel’s quirky sense of humor, even in the face of death, and her banter with Master Godwin inject lightness into the story. These moments of humor, paired with philosophical musings on life, death, and the afterlife, create a well-rounded narrative that feels both profound and entertaining. The novel’s ability to balance the macabre with personal growth and self-acceptance makes it stand out in the gothic fantasy genre.

Larson-Burnett delivers a rich, character-driven narrative that blends dark fantasy with emotional depth. A Madness Unmade is not just a story of necromancy and haunted spirits; it’s an exploration of grief, belonging, and the complexities of power. Laurel Rumbroom, with her blend of vulnerability and determination, is a protagonist readers will root for, navigating the perilous boundaries between life and death while holding on to hope. Fans of gothic fantasy will be enthralled by this haunting, magical journey, and eager for whatever comes next in Laurel’s story.