The story begins in Dobbs Ferry, New York, in the early 1960s, when Ivy Halliday receives a letter out of the blue from Argentina. Her uncle, a wealthy banker, has passed away and left her a sprawling fortune, a mysterious house called Casa Florencia, and a legacy she never expected. What starts as a thrilling surprise inheritance quickly spirals into something far more complex. As Ivy, her husband Glenn, and their two children travel to Buenos Aires to claim the estate, they’re drawn into a web of secrets connected to the aftermath of World War II, old family mysteries, and unsettling ties to the shadowy presence of Nazis who fled Europe after the war. The book unfolds with a mix of domestic charm, suspense, and lurking danger that creeps in through hidden doors, whispered rumors, and strangers who may not be what they seem.

I found myself pulled into this one almost immediately. The writing has a warmth to it, especially in the early chapters with Ivy’s family, that made me want to sit at their breakfast table and listen in. The descriptions of Buenos Aires were lush and inviting, and yet every time the narrative turned toward the darker threads, like the Nazi fugitives, the shadowy history of Casa Florencia, I felt my stomach tighten. That balance between light and heavy is tricky to pull off, but Quinn manages it well. At times, the prose leans a little old-fashioned, but that suits the period setting. I liked that it didn’t try to be flashy. It let the story carry the weight. The mystery around the wallpapered door in the mansion had me grinning like a kid, and the way tension built slowly but surely kept me hooked.

What really got me, though, was the emotional undertone of Glenn’s memories from the war. Those scenes were haunting, and they gave the book a gravity I wasn’t expecting. I could feel his reluctance to face Argentina, knowing the place had become a hiding spot for men he once fought against. As someone who loves mysteries, I appreciated that the danger didn’t just come from some masked villain lurking in the night but from history itself pressing down on the present. The family scenes sometimes lingered, and I caught myself itching to get back to the secrets. But when those secrets came forward, they delivered. The mix of personal drama, historical shadows, and good old-fashioned hidden-room intrigue made for a rewarding read.

Once Upon a Safehouse is the kind of book I’d recommend to anyone who enjoys mysteries laced with history, family drama, and just a touch of gothic atmosphere. If you like stories about ordinary people stumbling into extraordinary secrets, this will hit the spot. Fans of historical mysteries or readers curious about how World War II echoes could ripple into later decades will find plenty here to sink into.

Pages: 174 | ASIN : B0FPHQG2CQ