Bath Haus

Bath Haus is unapologetically gay, and that's what drew me to it - along with the bright splash of pink on the cover and the blurb which hinted at things all within my realm of interest. An addict in recovery, opposites attracting, a near-fatal trauma? Sign me up! A runaway train narrative of a thriller? Heck yes! I love myself a hefty dose of both angst and people overcoming trauma, so mixing them together seems like the perfect recipe for a book I'll enjoy. Adding the fast-paced nature of a thriller on top was like putting pearlescent sprinkles atop a decadent cake. It seemed like the perfect fit for me.

And you know what? It may have had a couple pitfalls - quite a few places where suspension of disbelief was difficult or I was annoyed with the way characters behaved - but overall, this book was absolutely a great fit for me.

Though I tend to hate stories involving infidelity, it didn't feel like some nasty secret tainting the story in this novel. Rather, it was the catalyst for a wild ride on a runaway train heading straight for certain doom. The entire point of the story is that one lie snowballs into two, then three, then a whole slew of them which turn Oliver's life upside down.

Like most ‘runaway train' narratives, this thriller definitely has its fair share of tropes and plot holes. Characters do stupid things which seem wildly out of character or incredibly nonsensical just for the sake of propelling the rabid plot bunnies forward. Professionals such as detectives and doctors behave in horribly unprofessional and rule-breaking ways just to lay the foundation for the plot's progression. The suspension of disbelief creaks uncertainly under the weight of all the little coincidences which align so neatly to form the train's tracks. But much like the movie version of a thriller, I was hooked and didn't want to let go even when my logical brain kept complaining about how ridiculous things were getting.

Basically: this is the literary version of one of the good Lifetime domestic thrillers, but with far more queer rep than you'd get from one of those. Just as I flock to those for guilty pleasure, so too did I gravitate to this book - enough to read it in basically two and half sittings. I. Was. Hooked!

The main narrating character, Oliver, drew me in from the first chapter and though I never did take a liking to the other narrating character, Nathan - in fact, I actively hated him from his very first chapter - I couldn't put this book down, except to sleep and eat and all those other annoying human necessities.

I eagerly sped through every bit and piece of Oliver's past and present, even when I wanted to reach through the book and shake him for doing dumb things. I wanted to shield him and protect him and push him far away from the terrible trap of a relationship and stalkers and... everything else, really. His partner, on the other hand... Well, not so much with the fluffy emotions.

Nathan is the kind of man who, in the midst of a traumatic experience where his dog's life lays on the line, stops to correct someone that his title is “doctor” instead of “mister” and scolds his traumatized boyfriend about not using a coaster for a drink - and that's the absolute least reprehensible trait about him. He's controlling, suffocating, sinister, and despicable in equal measure and I hated him so much as a character that I actively cheered for Oliver to dump him and find someone far better. Or even someone slightly better. Anyone else, actually: let's go with that. (Except maybe Kristian, the would-be killer. Standards, y'know?)

As for the plot itself: the promise of a runaway train delivered, and then some. Every ounce of anxious energy was palpable from the writing style to the pacing. Being inside Oliver's narration felt like being at home - like the author truly understood anxiety, paranoia, and addiction and also had the skill to bring those to life on the pages. (Nathan wasn't quite as convincing at times, but I also don't relate to being a rich doctor type so for all I know maybe that's accurate as well.) Even when annoying tropes popped up, I didn't want to stop. I just shook my head in disbelief and stuck my head out that metaphorical train window, eagerly watching the world flash by on the way toward certain demise.

There isn't much else I can say without spoiling the plot, and I definitely believe this book is best consumed with no foreknowledge of what happens. Just go into it cautiously if you have any triggers surrounding self-harm, drug addiction, alcoholism, sexual assault, or attempted murder. And rest assured, the one spoiler I'll happily offer in the spirit of “does the dog die” is: no, the precious pupper does not get harmed, despite all the graphic threats a horrible person makes against her.

Otherwise, though? If you're looking for a thriller and don't mind the intense suspension of disbelief which often comes with the domestic variety, give this book a chance. You might just love it!