After The French Girl, I had a theory: Lexie Elliot was on the fast track to becoming one of my favourite authors.


An eerie, old Scottish manor in the middle of nowhere that’s now hers.

Ailsa Calder has inherited half of a house. The other half belongs to a man who disappeared without a trace twenty-seven years ago—her father.

Leaving London behind to settle the inheritance from her mother’s estate, Ailsa returns to her childhood home, nestled amongst the craggy peaks of the Scottish Highlands, joined by the half-sister who’s almost a stranger to her.

Ailsa can’t escape the claustrophobic feeling that the house itself is watching her—as if her past hungers to consume her. She also can’t ignore how the neighbourhood animals refuse to set one foot within the gates of the garden.

When the first nighttime intruder shows up, Ailsa fears that the manor’s careless rugged beauty could cost her everything.
 



As always, a copy of this book was provided by the publisher or author in exchange for my honest review. This does not effect my opinion in any way.

First things first, after last years publication of The French Girl I knew that Lexie Elliot had the potential to be one of my newest favourite authors. Elliot writes in a way that is luxurious and atmospheric; setting the novel's tone in a way that makes your hairs stand up on edge with the purest form of unease. The Missing Years was one of my most anticipated reads for that reason and boy, it did not disappoint!

Eerie and creepy doesn't begin to explain The Missing Years in any capacity. It is honest, but it does not do it justice. Much like with The French Girl, there is a bleak and slow prose to the novel that really captured my attention from the get-go. See, even reading the synopsis alone piqued my interest enough to cause the thudding of my heart to go on high.

As I read The Missing Years it struck me that this novel would have been the perfect read for autumn. Summertime is all well and good, but the qualities that Elliot exudes in her writing screams autumn. In all its suspense and intrigue, The Missing Years makes it impossible to put down. Unlike The French Girl the unexpectedness of The Missing Years is in more than just the uncertainty of what is happening, who to trust, and what happens next, it is in the bending of genres.

I feel like thrillers have really stepped up their game this year by incorporating fantastical elements to the lingering questions they urge readers to ask. In the case of The Missing Years, it is a twist of magic that cuts through the already tense atmosphere and leaves readers chilled to the bone. Elliot mixes these traits together stunningly and hoo boy, I was hooked.

There isn't much that can be said about the premise of The Missing Years without staring you down with spoilers, so I'll leave you this: if you liked thrillers and creepy old houses that leave you feeling unsettled and as if someone's eyes are piercing into the back of your skull, The Missing Years will be for you.

To say that this novel consumed me would be an understatement. I loved it!