Publication Date: 6 July 2023

When 12-year-old Eleanor Newton dies in an accident, she finds herself journeying down a mysterious river that takes her to The Underworld. She apprehensively embarks on her “afterlife” at Eventide House, a boarding school of sorts for children who have died.

The Underworld is captivating: always sunny and warm but also fractured. Strange things have been happening to Ellie since she arrived: she knows something isn’t right, and she doesn’t want to be there. She desperately wants to get back to the world of The Living to meet her new baby brother, even if it means being a ghost.

Can Ellie find a way out of the Underworld? And who – or what – will she be if she does?

The Review

Having loved The Sky Over Rebecca, I had high hopes for The Lovely Dark, and Matthew has exceeded them in every way possible.

Mesmerising writing merges Greek myth with modern day, in a post pandemic world. From the very first page, this is a book that worms its way into your soul and will no doubt stay there, such is the intensity of emotion it evokes as you traverse this world and the next with Ellie. I’m used to crying towards the end of a book, but it is a rare thing to set me off before chapter one is finished. This is definitely one that needs a big pot of tea, tissues and an undisturbed afternoon.

Matthew’s exploration of grief, both for people you have lost, and the lifetime you no longer get to spend together, is brimming with love and hope as Ellie explores a deftly crafted Underworld. Her relationships with both Justin and Ash hold her steady as she comes to terms with her new status as dead, and tries to unravel the mysteries of Eventide House and the strange world beyond it’s neatly trimmed lawns and hedges.

This is also an ode to book lovers – the power of books seeps through the story, but I have to highlight a passage from page 15 which made me feel seen: “Very quickly our books made us friends. Books are the key, you see. When you meet someone new and they’ve read the same books as you, or some of them anyway, and they feel the same way you do about them, it means they’re alright in your book. It means you can understand each other. You have a kind of shared language.” I cannot wait for more people to read The Lovely Dark and feel the same way that I do.

Great for fans of:

• The Ash House by Angharad Walker
• The Infinite Lives Of Maisie Day by Christopher Edge
• The Afterwards by A.F. Harold, illustrated by Emily Gravett

The Exclusive Extract

The front door swung soundlessly open and I stepped into the gloom of the hall. There was a stained-glass window halfway up the stairs; the last rays of the setting sun made it glow, but that was the only source of light. Below, the walls were covered with dark wood panelling and narrow passages led off in every direction. There was a small cactus in a pot on a table tucked away in the corner at the bottom of the stairs. By the front door was a stand full of black umbrellas. There was nobody around. I took a step and somebody took a step towards me out of the gloom.

I stopped, and I saw that the somebody was me. I was standing in front of an old mirror as tall as an archway. It was spotted and stained yellowy-green with age, and looking into it was like looking at myself underwater.

‘What do I call this place?’ I said.

‘This is Eventide House,’ said the voice. Eventide House. The house you come to at the end of the day.

Right then I realised how tired I was.

‘I need to sleep,’ I said.

‘You may sleep,’ said the voice. ‘Take the stairs.’

I went up and the stairs creaked welcomingly. The treads were shiny, worn down by years of use, but I didn’t slip. On the first floor the voice said, ‘Go on,’ and again, on the second floor, and I went on. The stairs narrowed and turned a corner, and then there were three steps down and five steps up, and I was at the top of the house, underneath the roof.

The ceiling was lower here and a single passageway with many doors leading off it ran the entire length of the house. These must have been the servant’s quarters, I thought, before it was a school, but when was that? How old was the house? And who would they have been the servants for?

I went along the passageway. ‘Here,’ said the voice. A door was open; beyond it was a small room.

‘This is your room,’ said the voice.

I went in. It was bare. There was a blanket folded up on the bed. A thin pillow. A threadbare carpet. But there was a window and a desk with a chair. I crossed to the window and looked out. It was dusk but I could see the dull silver line of the river curling through the valley. Between the house and river there were vegetable patches: rows of potatoes and carrots, and broad beans tied to sticks. There were also a green house and some small wooden sheds.

‘Who built this place?’ I said. ‘The house, I mean.’

‘It’s unclear,’ said the voice.

‘What do you mean it’s unclear?’ I said. ‘Why don’t you know?’

‘The house was empty when we found it,’ said the voice. ‘All we know is that people started arriving here. The children started arriving here. The house seemed to have been abandoned. We filled it with life.’

A wave of tiredness crashed over me. I took off my boots and lay down on the bed and rested my head on the pillow. I pulled the blanket over me and lay with the headphones still on my ears and the Walkman on my chest. I wondered where Justin was. If he’d arrived at a school like this one. If he was lying on his bed in his room wondering what had happened to me.

‘Where’s Justin?’ I said, but the voice didn’t answer me. Instead I heard only softly whispered words: voices praying with a kind of hypnotic gentleness in a language I didn’t understand, and behind it all I seemed to hear the sound of the river running by.

Huge thanks to Hachette Childrens for sending me a copy and for inviting me to take part in the blog tour. Do make sure you check out all of the other stops.