It Was Her House First by Cherie Priest is a chilling ghost story with a smart, skeptical heroine—and a lesson in listening to your gut

Cherie Priest’s It Was Her House First is a fresh take on the haunted house novel, blending magical realism with classic ghost story suspense and a smart, wary heroine you can’t help but root for. When Ronnie Mitchell inherits enough money to finally buy her dream home, she snaps up a dilapidated cliffside mansion sight unseen—only to discover it comes with a terrible legacy and a very possessive spirit.

That spirit is Venita Rost, a former silent film star who may look like a cat now, but still has claws—and a long memory. Venita’s fury radiates through the house, where she is eternally bound with her nemesis, Bartholomew Sloan, a ghost shackled by his own complicity. Their presence lingers not only in creaking floorboards and flickering lights, but also in eerie, unforgettable moments—like when a man named Hugh shows up at the back door to “work” on the house. Ronnie knows he’s not living. She also knows better than to pretend otherwise. The way Priest blends these surreal moments into the everyday is one of the book’s most magical and eerie strengths.

But it’s not only ghosts that pose a danger. The real horror creeps in through the living—especially in the form of Coty, a man whose jealousy and resentment simmer just beneath the surface. As Ronnie navigates escalating threats from both the spectral and the real, Priest builds a slow-burning tension that pays off with sharp emotional insight.

There’s also a surprising amount of warmth in this haunted tale, particularly in the friendship between Ronnie and Kate, forged during the slow heartbreak of caring for Ronnie’s terminally ill brother (Kate’s fiancé). Their bond feels lived-in and real, and it adds a layer of grounded emotional resonance to the supernatural goings-on.

At its core, It Was Her House First is about what happens when women are ignored, dismissed, or punished for trusting their instincts. Venita wasn’t wrong about Sloan, and Ronnie isn’t wrong about Coty—but in both cases, no one listens until it’s too late. This novel is a visceral reminder that when your gut tells you to get out, go. If you’ve already pulled up 911 on your phone screen, don’t hesitate. Press the button. Better safe than dead.

I received an advance reader copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.

Related Content

• Getting naked on main: It Was Her House First (The Haunt)
• Cherie Priest on her time in publishing (Absolute Write)
• A conversation with Cherie Priest (Clarkesworld Magazine)
• Why horror author Cherie Priest started writing paranormal mysteries (Monster Complex)

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