Over a week or so, my boyfriend and I took turns reading this to each other in the bath after work. Perhaps that's not the correct atmosphere in which to consume a horror story; I imagine reading this in a single evening, alone by lamplight, you would be well enough spooked. As it is, not being spooked doesnt hurt the rating in my eyes as that sort of thing is often as much in the reader's hands as it is the story's. Anyway, this is an enjoyable story that is only occasionally confusing re time period. Also, I don't know why Anne insisted on going to Venice in the end; Oliver, my guy, I would have dumped her ass right there and found a good homosexual to shack up with if I were you. That white lady wouldn't have known what to do with you, then. She only has power over young heterosexuals, I'm telling you.