The characters were interesting, but let’s not pretend they were groundbreaking. Lowen was the embodiment of passive protagonist syndrome, letting everything happen to her instead of actually doing anything. Jeremy? A walking enigma whose personality shifts depending on what the plot demands. And Verity? Absolutely terrifying—but more of a concept than a fully developed character. Crew, their son, had serious "creepy kid in a horror movie" energy, but his role in the story felt like an afterthought. Were they compelling? Sure. Were they consistently well-written? Not really.

This book practically drenched itself in tension. The gothic, isolated mansion? Creepy as hell. The eerie silences and slow-burning dread? Expertly done. Hoover nailed the unsettling vibes, making even mundane moments feel loaded with unease. It’s a masterclass in "something-is-very-wrong-here" energy. That said, it did lean into haunted house clichés a little too often—ominous noises, flickering lights, the works. But hey, it worked.

Hoover’s writing is fast, accessible, and sharp, but not particularly deep. It’s the kind of writing that sucks you in and keeps you turning pages, even if it occasionally lacks finesse. The manuscript sections? Disturbing, sure, but they often felt more like shock value for shock value’s sake rather than a meaningful exploration of Verity’s psyche. Dialogue was serviceable, but there were moments where it felt stilted, especially between Lowen and Jeremy. Overall, easy to read but not exactly literary brilliance.

Look, Verity is a wild ride, and that’s why the plot works. The pacing is fantastic, the suspense is gripping, and the twists are absolutely unhinged. But when you take a step back? Some of it is... kind of ridiculous. The manuscript twist was a brilliant concept but so over-the-top that it was hard to take seriously. And the ending? A prime example of “let’s throw in one last twist just because.” It’s fun, but it doesn’t always make sense.

Was I hooked? Absolutely. This book grabs you by the throat and doesn’t let go. Even when I rolled my eyes at some of the more dramatic moments, I still had to know what happened next. If nothing else, Hoover knows how to write a story that demands to be read in one sitting. The only reason this isn’t a 10? The payoff didn’t quite match the buildup.

Oh boy. If you’re the type to nitpick plot holes, Verity is going to drive you insane. Jeremy’s behavior? All over the place. Lowen and Jeremy’s relationship? Unrealistically fast and kind of inappropriate given, you know, the circumstances. The big twist? Raises way more questions than it answers. And let’s not even get started on the inconsistencies with Verity’s condition. Just don’t think too hard about it and you’ll have a great time.

Did I have fun? Hell yes. Was it a flawless masterpiece? Hell no. Verity is the book equivalent of a trashy psychological thriller movie—you know it’s a little ridiculous, but you’re having too much fun to care. It’s messy, addictive, and full of wild moments that will either leave you gasping or rolling your eyes (sometimes both). If you go in expecting a logic-tight, deeply layered psychological thriller, you might be disappointed. But if you just want a fast, disturbing, utterly gripping read? You’ll love it.

Verity is unhinged, addictive, and unsettling in all the best ways—but it’s also full of contrived twists and questionable logic. Think of it as popcorn thriller fiction: wildly entertaining, occasionally ridiculous, but impossible to put down. If you’re here for deep, thought-provoking psychological horror, this isn’t it. But if you want a book that will grab you and refuse to let go? Buckle up.