Janice Everet is a Southern gothic historical romance that retells Jane Eyre through the perspective of a blind heroine growing up in the 1930s American South. We follow Janice from a childhood shaped by cruelty and neglect, through her years at a school for the blind, and into adulthood as she becomes a teacher and finds both purpose and love. The book mirrors the familiar arc of Jane Eyre but transforms it, rooting the story in disability representation, trauma survival, and the complicated social dynamics of its time.

As I read, I kept returning to how intimate Janice’s voice feels. Burton writes her with a sensitivity that made me slow down, especially during the painful early chapters. The scenes with Arnold, in particular, are hard to take. They’re written with an unflinching honesty that makes Janice’s fear almost tactile, and moments like the doctor noticing the bruising around her eyes and gently explaining her retinal damage hit me right in the chest. The book doesn’t sensationalize the abuse; instead, it sits with the emotional fallout and lets Janice carry both her pain and her stubborn resilience. I liked that the writing never turns her blindness into a metaphor or punishment. Burton even says in her author’s note that she wanted to challenge that trope directly, presenting blindness not as a tragedy but simply as part of Janice’s life and identity. That intention really comes through.

What surprised me most was how naturally the story shifts from gothic tension to warm, character-driven romance. The scenes with Edwin feel like stepping into sunlight after a long walk in the dark. Their relationship grows slowly, with a gentleness that contrasts with everything Janice has survived. I found myself appreciating the quieter moments: shared meals, woodworking, guiding each other through unfamiliar emotional terrain. Even the small exchanges with side characters, like Janice reading a story to a child on the bus or meeting friends at Pembrook, widen the world and keep the novel from sinking into despair. Burton’s choices here make the story less about escaping the past and more about claiming a future. And because the book is a romance, the emotional payoff lands in a satisfying, comforting way.

By the time I reached the end, I felt like I’d traveled with Janice rather than just observed her. The blend of Southern gothic atmosphere, historical detail, and classic romance gives the book a distinct flavor. It’s not a light read; some chapters sit heavily, especially for readers sensitive to themes of assault, trauma, and systemic prejudice. But the heart of the story is hopeful. It’s a journey toward dignity, connection, and the quiet courage of choosing joy after years of being told you don’t deserve it.

If you enjoy character-centered stories, historical romance with emotional depth, or retellings that genuinely reimagine their source material, this book will speak to you. Fans of Jane Eyre who have wondered what that story might look like with a heroine whose challenges aren’t tied to beauty or sight but to agency and survival might find this version even more resonant. I’d recommend Janice Everet to readers who appreciate Southern gothic atmosphere, nuanced disability representation, and a romance that feels earned and tender.

Pages: 238 | ASIN : B0FYK3JCKG