Myrrh has a goblin inside her, a voice in her head that tells her all the things she’s done wrong, that berates her and drags her down. Desperately searching for her birth-parents across dilapidated seaside towns in the South coast of England, she finds herself silenced and cut off at every step.
Cayenne is trapped in a loveless marriage, the distance between her and her husband growing further and further each day. Longing for a child, she has visions promising her a baby.
As Myrrh’s frustrations grow, the goblin in her grows louder and louder, threatening to tear apart the few relationships she holds dear and destroy everything around her. When Cayenne finds her husband growing closer to his daughter—Cayenne’s stepdaughter—and pushing her further out of his life, she makes a decision that sends her into a terrible spiral.
The stories of these women will unlock a past filled with dark secrets and strange connections, all leading to an unforgettable, horrific climax.
This is the first book I’ve read by Polly Hall, and I was drawn in by the striking cover and intriguing title. Although it’s marketed as a psychological thriller, I would describe it more as a slow-burn, multi-POV psychological women’s fiction with horror elements. The story explores identity, belonging, motherhood, family, grief, shame, and the need to know where you come from and where you fit in the world.
It has an unusual multi-POV structure. It’s mostly told via alternating POVs of Myrrh and Cayenne, with a few sections from Marian and Sandra. Myrrh, Marian, and Sandra are in third person, while Cayenne’s POV is in first person, which works well because she’s the most complex and unlikeable. You could definitely label Cayenne as the villain, although I recommend you allow the story to unfold before deciding.
The book also opens with a short but compelling prologue in which an unnamed character speaks to the reader, warning us that when we discover what they’ve done, we’ll be asking why they did it. I needed to know who was speaking, and I was immediately intrigued. From there, the story moves between POVs in very short chapters, many only a few minutes long.
Cayenne’s married to an older man and resentful of the attention he gives his daughter, while her own desire to have a child consumes her. Myrrh’s trying to uncover the truth about her biological parents, and her search takes her to different places. Sandra’s dealing with her complicated marriage and receives a shocking message from her son. Lastly, Marian, who lives in Cornwall, appears in only a few chapters, but she’s an important piece of the puzzle. The story slowly reveals how all of these women’s seemingly separate lives are connected.
And then there’s the goblin—probably the strangest and most memorable element of the book. It’s a constant presence in Myrrh’s head, insulting her and reminding her of her failures. I wondered if the goblin was meant to be interpreted as something supernatural or as a manifestation of Myrrh’s shame and deeply rooted feeling that she doesn’t belong. Flashbacks show Myrrh had a few difficulties growing up, but she also had a very loving adoptive family, which made the goblin hard for me to fully understand.
Cayenne’s storyline was probably the most difficult to read but also the most fascinating. She wants to create a family, but she feels excluded by her husband, and her thoughts become manipulative and sinister. In her inner monologues, she spends so much time rationalizing that what she’s planning is justified, and it becomes repetitive—particularly when she repeatedly speaks of her anger toward her stepdaughter and her dark plans.
The biggest challenge for me reading this was the structure and flow. I can see why the author chose to tell the story this way, but I found the writing quite choppy at times. There were many moments when I felt as though a chapter ended before the thought or scene completely finished. For much of the book, I was also wondering how Cayenne’s story was related to Myrrh’s. The connection between Sandra and Myrrh is easier to see, and I found that part compelling. I kept waiting for Cayenne’s connection to fall into place, and when it finally does, a lot of what comes earlier takes on a different meaning. I think the unfolding may work really well for some, but for me, it created more confusion than suspense.
The ending has some heartfelt moments, particularly in relation to Myrrh and the question of who her real family is. After everything she goes through and all the psychological torment from the Goblin, I appreciated the emotional resolution of her character arc. At the same time, I found the ending anticlimactic. After such an intense buildup and a disturbing escalation in the climax, I expected something more dramatic and layered.
Overall, Myrrh is an original and strange reading experience. It’s not a fast-paced thriller, and you’ll need patience because of the fragmented structure. But if the premise of a woman searching for her birth parents while battling a goblin inside her head sounds like your kind of read, I think it’s worth checking out the blurb to decide whether it’s for you. I’m still thinking about that goblin and what it really represents!
And if you’re an audiobook listener, I recommend this one on audio over print. Charlie Albers does a fantastic job bringing these women to life and giving each very different voices and personalities. Some of the goblin’s rants almost sounded like dark nursery rhymes, which made them very creepy and immersive to listen to!
Narrator Performance
Myrrh is narrated by seasoned narrator Charlie Albers.
For protagonist Myrrh, Albers portrays her with a soft, thoughtful voice that captures her uncertainty without making her sound like a weak character. From the beginning, when Myrrh starts her journey to find her birth parents, you can hear her curiosity and determination, and I really felt like I was following her along as she tried to piece together her identity. A major highlight of Myrrh’s portrayal is how Albers handles the Goblin. The interactions between Myrrh and the Giblin are immersive and, at times, VERY disturbing, as you can hear how much psychological distress it causes her. Even though Myrrh’s lived with the Goblin her entire life, Albers never makes it sound like she’s accustomed to hearing it. You can hear her hurt, fear, and exhaustion every time it tears her down. Some of the Goblin’s cruel taunting almost sounds like dark nursery rhymes, and Albers’s delivery is equally haunting and unsettling—and it really added entertainment value.
I also thought Albers did a wonderful job during the flashbacks to Myrrh’s childhood, particularly the bullying scenes, as you can hear how much those experiences affected her.
The scenes between Myrrh and her adoptive mother were another major highlight, especially toward the end. Albers captures the warmth and love between them so well, and you can hear how important that relationship is to Myrrh. As Myrrh begins to uncover more about her birth parents and shares what she has learned with her adoptive mother, there’s an emotional shift in the performance. Myrrh sounds more accepting of her circumstances and more comfortable with where she belongs. There’s a stronger sense of peace and belonging in her voice, and when the Goblin finally becomes quiet, the change is especially effective because you can feel what that silence means for her.
Cayenne is portrayed the complete opposite of Myrrh, and I felt at times like I was listening to two completelydifferent narrators—a testament to Albers’s acting ability. She gives Cayenne a much more calculating, emotionally charged voice that suits this complex and increasingly disturbing character. Albers brilliantly conveys her resentment toward her husband, her jealousy of his daughter, and her desperation to create her own family. When she learns that her stepdaughter is pregnant, Albers shifts her performance. Cayenne’s jealousy suddenly sounds more conniving, and you can hear her planning something sinister, even if she doesn’t tell you exactly what it is. I disliked Cayenne more and more because of how effectively Albers conveyed her evil spiral. The climactic scenes involving Cayenne and her stepdaughter had me on edge, with Albers emphasizing the stepdaughter’s panic and Cayenne’s cruelty. The scenes involving the ghostly presence Cayenne believes is inhabiting her and making love to her were especially creepy, and Albers’s delivery of Cayenne’s disturbing inner monologues made those scenes even more twisted.
For Sandra, Albers uses a more grounded and subdued delivery that reflects a woman who’s unhappy with the lack of affection in her marriage. You can hear the emotional distance between Sandra and her husband, especially in scenes where she’s trying to understand why their relationship has become so emotionally distant. When her son informs her of shocking information, you can almost hear her mind trying to process it all. I especially enjoyed Albers’s handling of Sandra’s conversations with her husband because you can hear the hesitation in his responses and the sense that he’s trying to avoid answering what she’s asking. His tone makes his answers feel evasive and dishonest, which made me just as suspicious of him as Sandra was.
Marian only appears in a few chapters in the audiobook, but Albers still gives her emotional weight. You can hear distress and regret in her voice, especially as she reflects on the circumstances surrounding her pregnancy and the decision she had to make regarding her baby. I liked that Albers didn’t overplay Marian’s emotions—her storyline is intentionally vague at first, and feeling Marian’s pain through the performance made me want to know more.
Overall, Charlie Albers did an excellent job with a story that could have been quite difficult to follow in audio. The short chapters, constant POV changes, shifting timelines, and some choppy writing made the story feel uneven for me, and Cayenne’s inner thoughts became repetitive, but Albers kept me engaged. A standout if the performance was his, she makes the Goblin feel like a real psychological presence hanging over Myrrh. If you’re considering Myrrh, I would absolutely recommend listening to it rather than reading it in print!
Narrator Performance
Myrrh is narrated by seasoned narrator Charlie Albers.
For protagonist Myrrh, Albers portrays her with a soft, thoughtful voice that captures her uncertainty without making her sound like a weak character. From the beginning, when Myrrh starts her journey to find her birth parents, you can hear her curiosity and determination, and I really felt like I was following her along as she tried to piece together her identity. A major highlight of Myrrh’s portrayal is how Albers handles the Goblin. The interactions between Myrrh and the Giblin are immersive and, at times, VERY disturbing, as you can hear how much psychological distress it causes her. Even though Myrrh’s lived with the Goblin her entire life, Albers never makes it sound like she’s accustomed to hearing it. You can hear her hurt, fear, and exhaustion every time it tears her down. Some of the Goblin’s cruel taunting almost sounds like dark nursery rhymes, and Albers’s delivery is equally haunting and unsettling—and it really added entertainment value.
I also thought Albers did a wonderful job during the flashbacks to Myrrh’s childhood, particularly the bullying scenes, as you can hear how much those experiences affected her.
The scenes between Myrrh and her adoptive mother were another major highlight, especially toward the end. Albers captures the warmth and love between them so well, and you can hear how important that relationship is to Myrrh. As Myrrh begins to uncover more about her birth parents and shares what she has learned with her adoptive mother, there’s an emotional shift in the performance. Myrrh sounds more accepting of her circumstances and more comfortable with where she belongs. There’s a stronger sense of peace and belonging in her voice, and when the Goblin finally becomes quiet, the change is especially effective because you can feel what that silence means for her.
Cayenne is portrayed the complete opposite of Myrrh, and I felt at times like I was listening to two completelydifferent narrators—a testament to Albers’s acting ability. She gives Cayenne a much more calculating, emotionally charged voice that suits this complex and increasingly disturbing character. Albers brilliantly conveys her resentment toward her husband, her jealousy of his daughter, and her desperation to create her own family. When she learns that her stepdaughter is pregnant, Albers shifts her performance. Cayenne’s jealousy suddenly sounds more conniving, and you can hear her planning something sinister, even if she doesn’t tell you exactly what it is. I disliked Cayenne more and more because of how effectively Albers conveyed her evil spiral. The climactic scenes involving Cayenne and her stepdaughter had me on edge, with Albers emphasizing the stepdaughter’s panic and Cayenne’s cruelty. The scenes involving the ghostly presence Cayenne believes is inhabiting her and making love to her were especially creepy, and Albers’s delivery of Cayenne’s disturbing inner monologues made those scenes even more twisted.
For Sandra, Albers uses a more grounded and subdued delivery that reflects a woman who’s unhappy with the lack of affection in her marriage. You can hear the emotional distance between Sandra and her husband, especially in scenes where she’s trying to understand why their relationship has become so emotionally distant. When her son informs her of shocking information, you can almost hear her mind trying to process it all. I especially enjoyed Albers’s handling of Sandra’s conversations with her husband because you can hear the hesitation in his responses and the sense that he’s trying to avoid answering what she’s asking. His tone makes his answers feel evasive and dishonest, which made me just as suspicious of him as Sandra was.
Marian only appears in a few chapters in the audiobook, but Albers still gives her emotional weight. You can hear distress and regret in her voice, especially as she reflects on the circumstances surrounding her pregnancy and the decision she had to make regarding her baby. I liked that Albers didn’t overplay Marian’s emotions—her storyline is intentionally vague at first, and feeling Marian’s pain through the performance made me want to know more.
Overall, Charlie Albers did an excellent job with a story that could have been quite difficult to follow in audio. The short chapters, constant POV changes, shifting timelines, and some choppy writing made the story feel uneven for me, and Cayenne’s inner thoughts became repetitive, but Albers kept me engaged. A standout if the performance was his, she makes the Goblin feel like a real psychological presence hanging over Myrrh. If you’re considering Myrrh, I would absolutely recommend listening to it rather than reading it in print!
Myrrh is narrated by seasoned narrator Charlie Albers.
For protagonist Myrrh, Albers portrays her with a soft, thoughtful voice that captures her uncertainty without making her sound like a weak character. From the beginning, when Myrrh starts her journey to find her birth parents, you can hear her curiosity and determination, and I really felt like I was following her along as she tried to piece together her identity. A major highlight of Myrrh’s portrayal is how Albers handles the Goblin. The interactions between Myrrh and the Giblin are immersive and, at times, VERY disturbing, as you can hear how much psychological distress it causes her. Even though Myrrh’s lived with the Goblin her entire life, Albers never makes it sound like she’s accustomed to hearing it. You can hear her hurt, fear, and exhaustion every time it tears her down. Some of the Goblin’s cruel taunting almost sounds like dark nursery rhymes, and Albers’s delivery is equally haunting and unsettling—and it really added entertainment value.
I also thought Albers did a wonderful job during the flashbacks to Myrrh’s childhood, particularly the bullying scenes, as you can hear how much those experiences affected her.
The scenes between Myrrh and her adoptive mother were another major highlight, especially toward the end. Albers captures the warmth and love between them so well, and you can hear how important that relationship is to Myrrh. As Myrrh begins to uncover more about her birth parents and shares what she has learned with her adoptive mother, there’s an emotional shift in the performance. Myrrh sounds more accepting of her circumstances and more comfortable with where she belongs. There’s a stronger sense of peace and belonging in her voice, and when the Goblin finally becomes quiet, the change is especially effective because you can feel what that silence means for her.
Cayenne is portrayed the complete opposite of Myrrh, and I felt at times like I was listening to two completelydifferent narrators—a testament to Albers’s acting ability. She gives Cayenne a much more calculating, emotionally charged voice that suits this complex and increasingly disturbing character. Albers brilliantly conveys her resentment toward her husband, her jealousy of his daughter, and her desperation to create her own family. When she learns that her stepdaughter is pregnant, Albers shifts her performance. Cayenne’s jealousy suddenly sounds more conniving, and you can hear her planning something sinister, even if she doesn’t tell you exactly what it is. I disliked Cayenne more and more because of how effectively Albers conveyed her evil spiral. The climactic scenes involving Cayenne and her stepdaughter had me on edge, with Albers emphasizing the stepdaughter’s panic and Cayenne’s cruelty. The scenes involving the ghostly presence Cayenne believes is inhabiting her and making love to her were especially creepy, and Albers’s delivery of Cayenne’s disturbing inner monologues made those scenes even more twisted.
For Sandra, Albers uses a more grounded and subdued delivery that reflects a woman who’s unhappy with the lack of affection in her marriage. You can hear the emotional distance between Sandra and her husband, especially in scenes where she’s trying to understand why their relationship has become so emotionally distant. When her son informs her of shocking information, you can almost hear her mind trying to process it all. I especially enjoyed Albers’s handling of Sandra’s conversations with her husband because you can hear the hesitation in his responses and the sense that he’s trying to avoid answering what she’s asking. His tone makes his answers feel evasive and dishonest, which made me just as suspicious of him as Sandra was.
Marian only appears in a few chapters in the audiobook, but Albers still gives her emotional weight. You can hear distress and regret in her voice, especially as she reflects on the circumstances surrounding her pregnancy and the decision she had to make regarding her baby. I liked that Albers didn’t overplay Marian’s emotions—her storyline is intentionally vague at first, and feeling Marian’s pain through the performance made me want to know more.
Overall, Charlie Albers did an excellent job with a story that could have been quite difficult to follow in audio. The short chapters, constant POV changes, shifting timelines, and some choppy writing made the story feel uneven for me, and Cayenne’s inner thoughts became repetitive, but Albers kept me engaged. A standout if the performance was his, she makes the Goblin feel like a real psychological presence hanging over Myrrh. If you’re considering Myrrh, I would absolutely recommend listening to it rather than reading it in print!
