One character in Christopher Ransom's "The Birthing House" claims that hauntings are not just about the house, but they are also about the people who live there. The story that unfolds is a perfect example.

Conrad and Joanna Harrison are a young couple with marital trouble. An inheritance gives them a chance to make a new start, away from the city life of Los Angeles, in the quaint rural town of Black Earth. Conrad finds their new home on a trip by himself and is drawn to purchase the Victorian mansion, compelled to take possession. More realistically, the house claims possession of him.

The plot's tension begins immediately, with the couple's troubles, strange goings on in the house, Joanna leaving for eight weeks of job training and a conflicted neighbor in need of rescue from circumstances beyond her control.

The house's history is revealed, layer by layer, beginning as a seemingly innocent shelter as a birthing house, a place for young unwed pregnant women to bring life into the world. Like a pregnancy, the story has a stomach-churning start, a plateau of normalcy, turning into a flurry of preparation and a crescendo of action.

Spirits of the house are yearning for something, and the haunting is an active one. Readers will turn pages instead of turning down the bed, finally falling into sleep late at night with the lights on.

This is not a light read. The tale is fraught with possession in various forms, sexual obsession, abuse, violence and murder; the image of a sheltering home is lost.

Ransom has proved himself talented with his first novel. His characters are rich, and this dark fiction held my attention. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it, up until the end. I did not care for the very end of the book, though I could see why many might think it is a perfect climax to the plot.