It was November of 2019, I believe, when my bookish college roommate gifted me a tattered copy of Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca (1938) for my 20th birthday. It wasn't until the pandemic hit and we were all confined to the walls of our homes that I finally picked it up, but once I did—well, I've never been the same. It was one of those books, for me. I read the whole of it in a matter of three days. Slamming the book shut, I unceremoniously dubbed it 5 stars on Goodreads and left the following review: "This novel does an incredible job weaving a murder mystery-slash-ghost story underneath the facade of a romance. The whole story is masterfully done, right down to the title. I absolutely loved the depth and individuality of each character, the rhythmic pacing, the unique progression of the plot, and the ultimate plot twist which left me floored in a way no other book has. A literary masterpiece with the last page sending you right back to the first for a re-read." B...
H. L. Ackerman | Fiction Author Blog