The book follows Katherine Calder, a burned-out journalist reeling from heartbreak, addiction, and the collapse of her marriage. She drifts into Greyfare, a coastal Maine town wrapped in fog, folklore, and menace. What begins as an assignment about strange lights and odd behavior slowly spirals into something darker, blending her personal unraveling with the creeping dread of a town that seems alive in ways it shouldn’t be. The story balances her private grief with an escalating sense of otherworldly danger, drawing the reader into a story where isolation, obsession, and the supernatural bleed together.

I found myself both impressed and unsettled by Juno Guadalupe’s writing. The prose is vivid, almost cinematic, and it often feels like the narrator is talking directly to you. The raw honesty in Kat’s self-destructive habits and inner monologue resonated with me. Sometimes I wanted to shake her. Other times, I felt her pain in my gut. The blend of humor and despair made her feel real. But the story also takes sudden, chilling turns. Those shifts, from Kat’s drunken sarcasm to grotesque encounters with what lurks in Greyfare, kept me off balance in the best way. It was like watching a storm roll in, beautiful and terrifying.

Kat’s internal spirals gave the story a raw and unfiltered rhythm. They slowed the pace in a way that felt intentional, letting me sit with her turmoil instead of rushing past it. Her reliance on alcohol and pills wasn’t easy to watch, but it made her struggle painfully real. That messy honesty reminded me how complicated people are, and that’s what gave the book its emotional punch. The horror elements, especially the mimicry and the way the environment itself seemed to breathe, gave me chills. They also mirrored Kat’s own sense of being replaced or erased, which added a clever layer of psychological dread.

The Lights of Greyfare is more than just a horror story. It’s about grief, identity, and the lies we tell ourselves just to keep going. I’d recommend it to readers who like their horror atmospheric and layered with emotional weight. If you enjoy Stephen King’s small-town dread or Gillian Flynn’s raw character work, this book will pull you in. Just don’t expect clean answers. Expect to sit with the fog, the echoes, and the ache of a story that wants to haunt you long after you close the book.

Pages: 345 | ASIN : B0FLLJMWZS