The house was designed to protect her. That part was true.

Running from a life she barely survived, Clover has built a second self. New name, new county, a new husband who notices everything. Beckett's remote home on the Devon coast anticipates her every need. It warms the floors before she wakes. It learns the temperature she likes her bath. It knows things about her she has never told a living soul. Twelve weeks pregnant and alone five days a week, she tells herself this is what it feels like to be loved by a man who pays attention.

Then the house begins to show her things it shouldn't know.

A name she buried five years ago, spoken aloud by a kitchen speaker. A photograph of a child no algorithm should be able to find. A medical alert at four in the morning that sends her out into forty minutes of unlit lane, and that no one will ever be able to prove was a lie. Every time she reports what she's seen, the system shows nothing, and her husband asks if she's been sleeping.

The house is the only witness to what the house is doing. And Clover has a history that means no one will believe her. Her only weapons are a pencil, a paper calendar, the back of a receipt, and a friend two hours up the motorway.

In the tradition of Ira Levin's Rosemary's Baby and the Irish moral suspense of Tana French, Mind How You Go is a psychological thriller driven by dread.

A novel about what it means to be known by a system that was built to keep you.

Thank you for your interest in reviewing Mind How You Go.

What to expect:

* Tone & style. A quiet, atmospheric, claustrophobic slow-burn literary thriller. Readers at home with Tana French and Sarah Moss (Ghost Wall) will recognise the register — creeping dread and moral tension.

* On structure. This is a suspense novel rather than a puzzle. There is no twist being withheld. You will usually be a step ahead of the narrator, and the tension comes from watching a woman be disbelieved in real time, by systems and by people who mean well.

* Voice. The story is narrated in an authentic, colloquial Hiberno-English voice. Regional phrasing and Irish syntax — amn't, I've no notion, I'm after saying — are deliberate, and reflect the narrator's origins and interior world rather than errors.

* Themes & content considerations. The novel deals realistically with coercive control, covert domestic surveillance, emotional manipulation, psychiatric hospitalisation, the institutional weaponisation of perinatal mental health, and the loss of a child through the family courts. It also contains historic domestic abuse, a death described in detail, a brief scalding injury to a young child, and a passage depicting intrusive thoughts about harming an infant. Pregnancy is central throughout, including false alarms about the baby's wellbeing.

* Reviews. If you share your review on Goodreads, StoryGraph, retail sites or social media, please tag #MindHowYouGo. Because the narrator's past is disclosed gradually, we'd ask that reviews stay spoiler-free about her history and the ending.