When it comes to horror, I'm not looking to have the bejesus scared out of me. Yes, you read that correctly. I am in fact a big ol' wimp and I'm not afraid to admit it. You can judge all you want, you horror junkies, but my bar is somewhere around reading Goosebumps and having nightmares afterwards.

So it's no surprise that I hemmed and hawed when it came to reading this book. Could I handle it? Is it too scary? Would I have nightmares for weeks and live to regret it? I even asked the person who knows me best what he thought, and my husband so helpfully put it in tennis terms that I was trying to make an unforced error.

But something about this book called to me, and I just couldn't let it drop. And I'm so glad I went for it. Because not only did it not scare the bejesus out of me, but I actually had the most ridiculously good time with it.

When Margaret and her husband Hal first came upon that beautiful Victorian house, they couldn't believe their luck. But soon after moving in, they began to realize why it had been sitting empty for so long. And slowly but surely, things reach a fevered pitch every September. While Margaret loves the house quirks and all, Hal can't take it anymore. Soon after he leaves, Margaret's daughter Katherine shows up looking for her missing father. But what Katherine doesn't understand is that her being there and poking around is making things so much worse.

Let me just say right now, The September House isn't like any other horror book I've ever encountered. The tone isn't dark and depressing as all heck. Instead, there's this levity that makes it so much fun. Maybe that tone isn't quite the norm when it comes to this genre, but I certainly didn't mind and I'm glad the author chose to take it in that direction. It makes an otherwise inaccessible genre feel entertaining and delightful (words I never thought I'd associate with horror).

Most books of this genre take their mission to scare the reader very seriously, almost to their detriment. The protagonist (always a female) is made to jump and squeak and whimper at every dark corner, shadow, and small noise that emanates in their vicinity, as if their fear would somehow translate onto the reader. But instead of adding to the atmosphere, it just makes me roll my eyes. After all, if such simple things could send our protagonist into a tizzy, then how could they possibly handle the really scary stuff? Thankfully, this book does not fall into such a trap.

Margaret is the most strong and competent heroine I have ever come across in a horror book. Nothing fazes her. Not blood running down her walls, not apparitions that appear and try to bite her, and certainly not unspeakable evils in her basement. She just carries on with conviction and all her wits about her, and it's a breath of fresh air, I tell you.

This book has the feel of a thriller, meant to keep the reader engaged and turning the pages. There are interesting developments along the way that you don't see coming, and the overall progression of the story arc is both surprising and satisfying.

That isn't to say there aren't moments of seriousness and fear, but they did not overwhelm the scaredy-cat in me. Rather, the built-in comedic relief and the strong female protagonist both helped to offset the fright, and turned this into a horror story I could actually enjoy.

Now after such an unexpected experience, I'm left wondering if horror is really my long-lost favorite genre after all?

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars