I loved the slow, beautiful writing and Carwyn and Rhian's life on the Welsh sheep farm immediately drew me in. Their gentle love story is perfect, and means you dread even more the horror that you sense is coming. The folklore shifts and changes, and whilst the darkness in their lives starts small, it grows and intensifies until it's desperately hard to see Rhian struggling with her husband's unrelenting, unsettling obsession.
Careful going, though, down among the rough and lichened stones with beards of brilliant green, down through the dripping, twisted trees that spread their roots to drink out of the stream, among the moss and fungi where it would not be unthinkable to catch just fleeting glimpses of the Tylwyth Teg, or little wizened goblins hid in every hollow log. Along the path a squirrel broke and fled, and Eira seemed to weigh up giving chase and then thought better of it. There was a long day’s work ahead.
