Generational trauma is an overriding theme in Christina Henry’s The Place Where They Buried Your Heart, a haunted house novel that sinks its teeth into you and doesn’t let go until the books is ended. I’ve been enjoying Henry’s dark tales for the past few years (impressively, she publishes about one per year), so I was looking forward to this story set in Chicago, Henry’s hometown. The novel is in the classic mold of a haunted house novel, a creepy home where some nasty things happened in a Chicago neighborhood that has long-lasting effects on the residents, and the family of Jessie Campanelli particular.
On an otherwise ordinary street in Chicago, there is a house. An abandoned house where, once upon a time, terrible things happened. The children who live on this block are told by their parents to stay away from that house. But of course, children don’t listen. Children think it’s fun to be scared, to dare each other to go inside.
Jessie Campanelli did what many older sisters do and dared her little brother Paul. But unlike all the other kids who went inside that abandoned house, Paul didn’t return. His two friends, Jake and Richie, said that the house ate Paul. Of course adults didn’t believe that. Adults never believe what kids say. They thought someone kidnapped Paul, or otherwise hurt him. They thought Paul had disappeared in a way that was ordinary, explainable.
The disappearance of her little brother broke Jessie’s family apart in ways that would never be repaired. Jessie grew up, had a child of her own, kept living on the same street where the house that ate her brother sat, crouched and waiting. And darkness seemed to spread out from that house, a darkness that was alive—alive and hungry.
We are introduced to Jessie in 1993, when she is in high school. Henry wastes no time in setting the stage with an opening line that is guaranteed to pull in the reader:
“I was at home, grounded for stealing cigarettes from Johnnie’s corner story, on the day my baby brother, Paul, was eaten by the house at the end of the street.”
The house is the former residence of the McIntyre family who were murdered by their “hard man” of a patriarch named Glen. Ever since that happened in 1973, residents of the neighborhood try to steer clear of the seemingly dilapidated house. The architecture stands out in the neighbohood, it is wooden where many of the houses in the neighborhood are brick.
As often happens with older sisters, Jessie is harangued by her kid brother Paul to the point where she dares him to enter McIntyre house. Paul gets his friends Jake and Richie to join him on this dare into the infamous house. Unfortunately, Paul never returns and while both his friends escape, Jake loses an arm. Jessie’s family is devastated, she blames herself for daring Paul, Jessie’s father never recovers emotionally and the tension between Jessie and her mother only gets more potent as mother and daughter merely tolerate each other’s presence. Jessie finds solace in a young father in the neighborhood, Ted Dobrowski who all but adopts Jessie. It doesn’t hurt that Jessie found herself attracted to Ted’s son Alex.
Henry jumps the narrative roughly a decade; Jessie has a son and Ted continues to be a major support system in her life. Like many of the residents of the neighborhood, Jessie finds herself still in the house where she grew up with the looming specter of McIntyre House casting a gloomy cloud of fear. The house has been relatively quiet for a few years, no children have gone missing. No murders have happened and with Jessie’s son about the age her brother Paul was when the house consumed him, Jessie grows even more concerned. Especially because McIntyre House seems to be hungry and awake.
This is an emotionally dark novel. Right, it’s a horror novel, duh. But the grief, dread, regret, trauma Henry laces throughout the narrative is potent and hard to turn away from once you start. One theme the story proves out is how difficult it can be for a person to leave what can be considered an abusive relationship, if that relationship is to a haunted house on the street where you live. That isn’t to say it is all doom and gloom, because in Jessie, Christina Henry has given readers an empathetic and engaging protagonist to follow in this first-person narrative. She isn’t without hope, her determination is very admirable and given her experiences, her somewhat stiff nature is completely understandable and justified.
McIntyre House is very much a character, which is often the case in haunted house stories. I mentioned how the design and look of the house make it stand out in the neighborhood. Once some of the characters step foot in the house, the house truly comes alive and is a truly terrifying place. Like many central characters in novels, McIntyre House manages to draw people in, it keeps people around it much like an abusive husband/father whose power keeps his wife and children in his orbit. I feel as if we only scratched the surface of this big looming house that in some ways, resonated with the infamous Marston house from Stephen King’s classic masterpiece, ‘Salem’s Lot. The root of the evil may be slightly different, but the foreboding presence is certainly there!
There are some very enthralling set pieces in the novel, gripping and bloody scenes of terror that when visualized, are quite disturbing. The supernatural aspect of the novel was fascinating, but I wanted to know more, learn more, and maybe see just a little bit more of it. However, including some of the supernatural scenes and elements in such a judicious manner without over-explaining them raised their power and importance.
I found myself tearing through the novel, completely enwrapped in the story and blocked out everything around me. This isn’t a surprise to me because Christina Henry has proven repeatedly to be an incredible storyteller who balances terror and thrills with some insightful elements. The conclusion felt a little bit sudden, but it was effective nonetheless. It feels like there might be some more story to tell… either with events that occurred prior to our introduction to Jessie or perhaps later in time.
I’d also like to again give a shout-out to the art department of Berkley Publishing. This is a very eye-catching cover with the composition of the font that evokes horror of the 1960s and 1970s, the lovely and creepy haunted house at the center, and the look of the worn edges that gives the novel an aesthetic of a classic old and lovingly worn paperback. Great color scheme with the deep purple that would sit very nicely (from the theme/quality of story and physical design of the book) next to Rachel Harrison’s Play Nice, also published by Berkley.
There was a great animated family horror movie released in 2006 which I watched recently – Monster House – that has a decent amount of resonance with Henry’s novel. Given that the film was aimed at younger audiences, it doesn’t go quite as dark, but I feel as if people who enjoyed the film would enjoy The Place Where They Buried Your Heart and vice-versa.
Bottom line – another terrific horror novel from Christina Henry, it will definitely sink its teeth into you!
Recommended.
© 2025 Rob H. Bedford
Berkley | Hardcover
November 2025 | 320 Pages
https://www.christinahenry.net/
Excerpt: https://thenerddaily.com/the-place-where-they-buried-your-heart-by-christina-henry-excerpt/
Review copy courtesy of the publisher
