A Pawn’s Game begins with a mysterious chess match in a dimly lit park and never lets go of that eerie tension. What starts as a quiet story about David Morgan, a man juggling family turmoil, betrayal, and exhaustion, slowly unfolds into something darker, stranger, and far more psychological than I expected. The story weaves family drama with psychological suspense, bringing in a chilling undercurrent that turns the familiar into the threatening. Lomax builds a world that looks ordinary on the surface, a man, a wife, a daughter, a friendly neighbor, but underneath, every detail hums with unease. It’s a domestic thriller that plays out like a slow, inevitable game of chess, one where every move feels both deliberate and fatal.

I found myself torn between admiration and frustration with Lomax’s writing. Her prose is sharp, cinematic, and almost hypnotic at times. She knows how to draw out tension until it hums. But there were moments when I had to stop and take a breath because the story hit hard. The emotional weight is relentless, betrayal, guilt, obsession, and the pace can feel suffocating. I loved how every scene felt heavy with subtext. Lomax doesn’t waste words. She lets small details do the talking. A gesture. A look. The hum of a refrigerator. It’s unsettling in the best way. And while some of the dialogue leans dramatic, the overall writing keeps its edge. It’s intimate, haunting, and very relatable.

What truly hooked me were the ideas behind the story. The notion of control, choice, and consequence. The chessboard isn’t just a symbol, it’s a presence. The way Lomax uses the game to mirror the moral and emotional collapse of her characters is brilliant. Each move feels like a confession, each captured piece like a sin coming home to roost. I found myself thinking about it long after I stopped reading. The book left me uneasy because it reminded me how people can become pawns in their own lives, moving, reacting, obeying invisible rules they never agreed to. It’s bleak, yes, but honest.

I’d recommend A Pawn’s Game to readers who enjoy psychological thrillers that make you squirm a little. It’s perfect for those who liked Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl or Paula Hawkins’ The Girl on the Trainm, not for the shock twists, but for the slow unraveling of human nature. It’s not light reading. It’s heavy, layered, and a little cruel. But it’s also deeply rewarding if you stick with it.

Pages: 122 | ASIN: B0DRLLZ8GG