Lyndsey Croal
Luna, 4 February 2026
Available as: PB, 129pp, e
Source: Bought
ISBN(9781915556691PB):
Luna, 4 February 2026
Available as: PB, 129pp, e
Source: Bought
ISBN(9781915556691PB):
In a modern city that is, and is not, Edinburgh, a young woman, Maggie, lives alone and sees ghosts.
Specifically, Maggie sees ghosts in the rain. They have little or no substance in the dry, so she mainly encounters them on the way to and from her job serving whisky cocktails in a basement bar. They have become familiar to her.
Nobody else can see the ghosts - until one day, somebody can.
And then, the ghosts begin to ask Maggie for help.
I loved the way that In This City, Where it Rains opens as a seemingly mundane story - what is more normal in Britain than a walk in the rain? - and then gives us a dash of the uncanny. We see Maggie's relationship with her boss Angus, who's missing his dead brother. Banter over tips, chat on a quiet evening in the bar. Then we see that Maggie perceives... something... in Angus's brother's favourite chair.
A dash of the uncanny. Then a bit more. And then In This City, Where it Rains goes full-blooded horror. Maggie finds herself, somehow, at the centre of a web of mysteries - and in danger. Is the prolonged rain actually natural? What lies beyond the city? And how does it link to the strange, decaying Tair House?
Maggie's existence in the city seems to take place mysteriously on two levels - she does the normal things that are needed to maintain existence in a service economy, and suffers the alienation attendant on that - expressed powerfully in the rain. Where are the rest of her family? What became of them, and what was the "accident" her granny told her about?
Yet, at the same time, Maggie is sought, eagerly sought, by mysterious players in the haunted city. It's not just her life that seems to be on hold, there are others, only half-awake, who need her.
I really enjoyed In This City, Where it Rains. Both naturalistic and creepy, it's a story that (I write, as the rain pours down outside) powerfully inhabits its own metaphor, pointing both to a state of stasis and, perhaps, to awakening and renewal.
Strongly recommended.
For more information about In This City, Where it Rains, see the publisher's website here.






