The House at the End of the Moor was my first foray into the writing of Michelle Griep, but it won’t be my last. I loved the atmosphere, especially the moody moor setting of the first part of the book. I also thoroughly enjoyed the writing, was invested in the plot, and found most of the characters likable and sympathetic. Most of all, I really appreciated how Griep wove the characters’ faith into the story. We see that faith grow in some, while we see it twisted and used as a weapon by others. While I found some elements too heavy-handed, such as the romance and the portrayal of the villains, even those aspects largely won me over by the end of the novel.

Our story begins with a prison break. Oliver was wrongly accused of a crime, and has served 9 months of his sentence at an incredibly harsh prison, Dartmoor prison, on the moors of England. When an opportunity presents itself he makes his escape, bent on clearing his name and bringing the man who framed him to justice. I was immediately sucked into the story and invested from this very first chapter. Oliver’s plight gripped me, as did his handling of it. His faith was both evident and conflicted in these early pages, which felt believable to me. I was reminded of Edmond Dantès from The Count of Monte Cristo.

The second chapter introduces our main perspective character, Maggie, and opens with references to Jane Eyre. Those references helped to cement the tone and setting for the reader. Maggie relates to Jane and counts her as a favorite literary heroine. Even the writing itself emulated Brontë, as well as other darker, gothic fiction from the same era. It’s in first person, which is not my favorite, but it actually worked beautifully here. The ways the writing reflected the period in which it was set also aided the portrayal of faith. The faith element could have felt very heavy-handed, but it didn’t. Instead, it felt period appropriate and left me feeling a bit wistful.

The villains in this story are terrible. Maybe too terrible? They feel almost cartoonishly dastardly. Sebastian, the third of our perspective characters, who is one of these villains. I think he was still supposed to be sympathetic in some way, but he was horrendous. I have no problem with a morally gray character, but that’s not an accurate description of Sebastian. He was a purely blackhearted character for most of the story, one who considered himself to be righteous. He was too busy passing judgment on others to see in his actions his own broken, sinful nature. Definitely my least favorite of the perspectives we followed. I hated being in his head. His views on authority, on the worth of others, were appalling. And because he was so awful, I found his crisis of conscience late in the novel almost wholly unbelievable. Almost. He felt modeled after Javert from Les Misérables, but less nuanced. All of that being said, I did somehow end up feeling for him. And I was relieved to find the end of his story more hopeful than that of Javert.

I wish I had enjoyed the romance at bit more, as that was such a central part of the plot, but I kept wanting to get back to the rest of the story. Which is a completely subjective issue. I’m just not in my romance era at the moment, which is not Griep’s fault. There were a few times that I rolled my eyes at the pair, but I can’t deny the sweetness of the relationship, or how satisfying it was when the central plot resolved and resulted in the union of the couple.

Overall, I really enjoyed The House at the End of the Moor. It’s one of those books that I found new for less than $4, so I decided to give it a try. I’m glad that I did. This is my favorite kind of historical fiction in terms of tone and setting. Griep has a back catalogue that I’m eager to dig into, as I really enjoyed her style. I also really enjoyed the literary references, both those more blatant and those merely hinted at in the lives and actions of the characters themselves.

It was a sweet Christian historical romance. It was fast-paced but slowed down at the end as the author attempted to tie everything up in a little bow.