Elegant sentences add to the pleasure of You Let Me In: glittering and menacing, they perfectly evoke their subject matter. One badly shaken character admits that he too can see fairies, and asks Cassandra what they are. “‘They are nothing,’ I told him. ‘Nothing we can define. They live in the cracks and narrow spaces, in between day and night. They are twilight people. Not quite dead, not quite alive.’” But oh, so vivid, and like Bruce’s novel, so deliciously terrifying.
Bestselling romantic novelist Cassandra Tipp has disappeared and is presumed dead. Her sole relatives, a nephew and niece, are in line for a sizeable legacy. In order to inherit, though, the siblings are first obliged to read their aunt’s final work, a novel-length letter addressed to them, in which she unearths her troubled past. Cassandra famously committed murder twice but got off on grounds of insanity. The letter claims that since childhood she was visited by Pepper-Man, a bewitching, manipulative emissary from the realm of faerie who coaxed her into her crimes. Is she telling the truth or is it all simply a deranged woman’s elaborate lie?