When the Past That Haunts You Isn't Your Own - an Editorial Review of "The House on Chambers Road"

Book Blurb:

Sometimes the past that comes back to haunt you isn’t yours…C.J. McGroarty blends the gothic touches of a good ghost story with the rich, evocative details of historical fiction in this tale of love, loss, and redemption.

Interior designer Libby Casey desperately wants to move on from her grief and the painful secret that has plagued her since her husband’s death. When she buys an 18th-century house on the outskirts of town that she feels inexplicably drawn to, she thinks she has a chance to do just that.

But soon after moving in, she finds she’s not alone. An ominous voice whispers in the night, mysterious objects appear and disappear, and odd scents waft from the old kitchen garden.

Looking for answers, she digs into the history of the estate and the man who built it, Hugh Peter Jones. Like Libby, Hugh harbored his own troubling secret. But will this secret hold the key to banishing her ghost for good? And will Libby finally find the peace she desires?

Book Buy Link: https://geni.us/mPet

Author Bio:

C.J. McGroarty grew up in a small town outside of Philadelphia, Pa., where history was around every corner. A former newspaper reporter and editor, she has an MFA in creative writing and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. Her fiction has appeared in a variety of journals and magazines. Her first novel, Clara in a Time of War, was published in 2022. She lives in Chester County, Pa., with her husband and their cat.

Editorial Review:

1792, Jones Estate, Simms, a village outside of Philadelphia

Abigail and Alice stood side by side in the dark bedchamber where their father lay dying. The lamp on the table flickered shadows across his haggard face. His breathing came quick and shallow.

“Do you suppose death will free him of his burden… whatever it was?” Abigail whispered.

“I think it is the only thing that shall free him,” Alice said. She reached down to touch the slender brush clenched in her father’s hand, its fine bristles stiffened with old green paint. “He would not relinquish this. I suppose it’s doing no harm. But come. I must head for home.”

Abigail took up the lamp and followed her sister down the stairs. The candle brought a dim luster to the knot of dark hair at the back of Alice’s head. The same dark color as Abigail’s. The color that had once been their father’s.

The story jumps in immediately from the prologue with an introduction that pulls us in and makes us want to learn more. We are taken back in time to 1792 and into the room with Abigail and Alice as their father faces his last days on this earth. But this story will feature dual timelines as we learn about modern-day Libby who purchases the house, as well as the history of who has lived there before.

The House on Chambers Road by C.J. McGroarty is a disturbing, masterfully constructed book that skillfully combines the frightening resonance of a traditional ghost story with the sorrowful beauty of historical fiction, from its evocative first line to its emotionally rewarding ending.

McGroarty draws readers into a story as complex as the old house it is set in, with a strong sense of atmosphere, a profound emotional core, and a fundamental mystery based on secrets that date back centuries. Long after the last page, the work remains captivating.

From its evocative first line to its emotionally satisfying conclusion, C.J. McGroarty's The House on Chambers Road is a distressing, masterfully written work that deftly blends the somber beauty of historical fiction with the terrifying resonance of a classic ghost story. With a deep emotional core, a strong sense of atmosphere, and a central mystery rooted in centuries-old secrets, McGroarty captivates readers with a tale as intricate as the old mansion in which it is situated.

The House on Chambers Road is fundamentally about a woman who is trying to start over after suffering an unfathomable loss. An 18th-century home that appears to speak to Libby Casey, an interior designer dealing with sorrow and a personal secret, captures her attention right away. With the purchase of the property, she embarks on a journey that delves into a ghostly mystery ingrained in the estate's foundations as well as into her own psyche.

Spring passed into summer, and summer became fall, and as the fog of my grief began ever so slowly to lift, I sometimes found myself driving by the Jones estate, now inhabited by new owners. I would sit and idle a while on the grassy shoulder, just watching. Odd, but it always felt as if the house had been expecting me.

And then there were the dreams. Or were they nightmares? I woke up from one such dream, cold and shivering. I’d been outside the Georgian in a pouring rain, pounding with a knocker at the red front doors, Rap! Rap! Rap! It had felt so real that I reached up to my hair to see if it was wet. In another of these dreams, I was standing in a doorway, staring into a room where a man sat in the shadows by a lit fireplace. And when I called to him, he wouldn’t answer, wouldn’t even look my way.

 I kept it all to myself—the visits to the house, the dreams— until one night I finally told Diana, my best friend, as we sat in her kitchen drinking wine.

The plot's harmony between the inside and the outside is what makes it so gripping. McGroarty creates a story with two layers: one that delves into Libby's emotional recovery, and another that reveals the background of Hugh Peter Jones, the guy who lived - and maybe still lives - in the house. As Libby learns more about the estate's history, she is forced to face her own, and this interaction of ancestry and personal history is what gives the book its emotional weight.

The elements of the ghost story are expertly integrated. The hauntings are profoundly symbolic - expressions of unresolved grief and secrets - rather than kitschy. Every otherworldly experience brings Libby one step closer to self-discovery. Thoughtful pace builds suspense gradually without overpowering the reader with spectacle.

The book is quite well-written. Every page demonstrates McGroarty's meticulous attention to detail. With clearly marked chapter breaks that facilitate comprehension and pacing, the formatting is easy for readers to follow. There are smooth transitions between Libby's contemporary story and the historical disclosures about Hugh Peter Jones. Because of the clear and colorful language, readers can focus without being distracted. The prose's lucidity highlights the novel's great artistry and heightens the spooky atmosphere.

The protagonist, Libby Casey, is complex and incredibly relatable. She is a grieving woman, not only for her deceased spouse but also for the parts of herself she lost when he passed away. Her character has a fragile complexity because of her secret, which is hinted very early on. Instead of depending on spectacular revelations, McGroarty lets Libby's emotional condition develop naturally, giving her change a genuine and earned sense.

Although they are depicted more softly, secondary characters are just as powerful. Libby's path is accelerated by the supporting cast, which includes neighbors, historians, and enigmatic guests. Every encounter pulls her deeper into the house's mystery and her own recovery. The most captivating is Hugh Peter Jones, whose presence is timeless. Hugh's own tragedy is partially exposed through letters, documents, and ghostly whispers, presenting a picture of a man who is similarly molded by grief and secrets.

Hugh and Libby share strong emotional similarities, which McGroarty manages with poise and moderation. Each character's suffering is not overshadowed by the other's; rather, they become echoes of one another over time, united by their mutual yearning for atonement.

December 1758

Hugh pulled on his new gauntlets and made a show of admiring them.

“They are more than handsome,” he said, smiling over at Miranda, who was watching him from the bed under the low ceiling of the sleeping quarters, her hazel eyes dull with exhaustion, her lips turned up in approval.

“A gift for your twenty-eighth birthday,” she said. “A handsome gift for the most handsome of men.”

Twenty-eight, Hugh thought. How had he so quickly gotten to such an age, and how in all those years had he never had a pair of fine gauntlets?

“I suppose Niall supplied the leather,” he said.

“Yes, and Hattie refused to take a single guinea for stitching them. What do you say to those initials?”

The novel's continuity is one of its best features. No unresolved subplots or loose threads remain. With deliberate effort, each scene and revelation builds on the one before it. Suspense and emotional intensity increase in tandem as the plot progressively advances. In the novel's climax, the two storylines of Libby's emotional and physical restoration of the house come together in a stunning way.

The eerie encounters, historical revelations, and personal conflicts all contribute to a rewarding and moving ending. The truth is revealed gradually, and the ensuing peaceful, cathartic release occurs without any abrupt turns or forced conclusions.

McGroarty's voice distinguishes The House on Chambers Road from other ghost stories or sorrow memoirs. Her writing is poetic without being overdone, and graceful but approachable. Readers can practically feel the creak of the wooden floorboards, the damp cold of the garden air, and the gentle rustle of draperies moving when no one is around thanks to her ability to generate a strong sense of place.

The novel has a unique tone since it combines historical fiction with a gothic atmosphere. Though it has a more personal emotional scale and a leaner narrative approach, it is evocative of Kate Morton or Sarah Waters. In this book, the haunting is more than just a ghost; it's the legacy of past events, trauma, and hidden realities.

McGroarty's expertise as a writer is demonstrated by her ability to link past and present with such emotional precision. This is not a book that relies largely on manufactured excitement or jump scares. Rather, it has faith in the narrative's subdued strength, and it has good reason to do so.

The conclusion is subtly impactful. It is redemptive without being cheesy when Libby faces the truth about the house and herself. The mystery is resolved in a really human way in the last chapters. The conclusion feels genuine because the ghost - both literal and metaphorical - is comprehended rather than exorcised.

Finally, there is tranquility for both Hugh and Libby. Additionally, the reader experiences the unique joy of being both tormented and healed. It’s a journey you will enjoy taking along with the characters.

The House on Chambers Road by C. J. McGroarty is a brilliant literary ghost story. Yes, it burns slowly, but it's the sort that becomes brighter with each new page. McGroarty tells a profoundly moving tale of loss, discovery, and the odd, eternal ways the past can speak to us through exquisite prose, a well-drawn protagonist, and a historical mystery that never loses its human essence.

This book is a must-read for readers who enjoy gothic stories, atmospheric fiction, and reflective narrative. It is a tale that honors the burden of grief, and the bravery required to confront it.

5 stars from The Historical Fiction Company and the “Highly Recommended” award of excellence

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