Adrift was not the reading experience I expected, and I mean that in the most intense, complicated way. I picked it up hoping for the kind of escapist thrill Will Dean delivered in The Last One. What I got instead was something far more visceral, personal, and emotionally harrowing.

From the very first page, I was hooked. The writing is sharp, concise, and devastating. Every sentence lands with weight. One early quote from the 14-year-old protagonist, Sam, stayed with me: “The choice between sitting on the cassette toilet listening to him go on, or me slicing my hand. There was no decision to make.” That moment, and so many others, cut deep. Sam’s point of view, especially his experience of being bullied and emotionally abused and how he tried to protect his mother, felt painfully real and personally resonant.

This book isn’t a thriller in the traditional sense. It reads more like a psychological domestic drama, thick with dread and centered on gaslighting, manipulation, and emotional control. Drew, the father, is one of the most chillingly realistic abusers I’ve read in fiction because he’s so ordinary. There’s no villain’s mask or dramatic reveal. Just the slow, calculated erosion of a family’s sense of reality.

I was completely pulled in and stayed up past my bedtime finishing it. Even after turning the last page, my thoughts were racing. That said, the ending left me a bit conflicted. After all the creeping dread, I expected more insight into Drew or some kind of twist. His death felt abrupt, and while I appreciated the final moments of peace and possibility for Peggy and Sam, something felt emotionally unresolved.

Still, this book earns five stars. Not because it was perfect, but because it got to me. I cared. I felt. I couldn’t look away. That is what I ask for in a story.

Adrift is grim, unsettling, and unforgettable. It may not be the ride you expect, but it’s one that will stay with you.

This book was fantastic. I loved every minute of it. I am so thankful I had the pleasure of reading it. I will be recommending to everyone!

A gripping and emotional novel that had my anxiety peaked the entire time. From the alternating prospectives of a mother (Peggy) and son(Samson) who have recently moved into a boat house on an isolated canal, we see how each character interacts with Drew - the controlling and temperamental husband/father. As they get further and further from civilization the feeling of claustrophobia grows. I didn’t know who was a reliable narrator or who to trust. Tension builds to a catastrophic end that will leave you emotionally drained. This is a great thriller with well developed characters and backstory that is still a quick read!


Thank you to Net Galley for giving me this ARC in exchange for my honest review.

The claustrophobia is real! This had been gripped and tense from start to finish. Very different from The Last One but I thought it was far superior in writing and depth

Thank you to NetGalley, author Will Dean and Atria books for the ARC and opportunity to honestly review this book.

I hate to say it, but I’m not sure I read the same book as others who are giving 4 and 5 star reads. It was unbelievably slow and repetitive. Took me forever to read it and I’m generally a book a day girl.

As someone who has experienced domestic violence I found it easy to see through the gaslighting of the husband and the reasons he was isolating them. It was an ok view of emotional abuse but lacked any real thrill or suspense.

I wouldn’t really classify it as a thriller but more of a women’s view of her abusive marriage 🤷‍♀️

I’m a reader not a writer so I’m not sure I can find words eloquent enough to describe my feelings for this book. IT IS A STELLAR READ, And if it isn’t on a multitude of Bestseller Lists I will be speechless. It is a phenomenal story that drew me in & did not let go. Peggy & Samson still have residency in my heart & mind. As for Drew … no words for that one! Dive in (pun intended) to the world of this family - their trials, their secrets, their pain, their hope… I cannot recommend this book highly enough. Do yourself a favor & pick it up as soon as you can, Don’t make any plans because you won’t want to put it down. I was fully immersed until the last word & wanted more!

Set against the eerie stillness of the English Midlands, Will Dean’s latest novel is an evocative and emotionally charged exploration of psychological captivity, domestic coercion, and the fragile resilience of those living beneath the weight of tyrannical control. The narrative orbits around Peggy Jenkins and her son Samson, who live aboard a narrowboat with Peggy’s domineering husband, Drew—a man whose manipulation and cruelty manifest not in overt brutality, but in an insidious, suffocating form of control that isolates and diminishes. The canal, a liminal space by its very nature, becomes a potent metaphor for stagnation and entrapment.

Peggy, a volunteer at the local library, harbors quiet aspirations of escape, covertly writing a manuscript she hopes might offer her and Samson a future beyond the narrowboat’s oppressive confines. Her creative act becomes a form of resistance, however tenuous, against Drew’s psychological domination. Drew’s modus operandi—relocating their boat further into isolation whenever he senses the faintest challenge to his authority—serves to reinforce his unchecked dominion and deepen the family’s social exile. Dean crafts this dynamic with a steady hand, allowing the claustrophobia to mount with agonizing precision.

The portrayal of Drew is chilling in its realism. He is not a caricature of violence but a figure of ambient menace—methodical, watchful, and devastatingly effective in maintaining psychological control. His manipulations are relentless, and Dean renders them with an acuity that speaks to a deep understanding of coercive dynamics. Peggy, in turn, emerges not as a passive victim, but as a figure of quiet fortitude. Her endurance, while understated, carries the weight of emotional heroism.

Equally compelling is the characterization of Samson, whose internal world becomes his refuge. Through his thoughts and the music on his Walkman, he carves out a mental space that allows him to survive his father’s tyranny and the additional challenges he faces at school. Dean contrasts Samson’s cerebral and emotional agility with the bleakness of his surroundings, a technique that adds a poignant dimension to the novel’s psychological landscape. His yearning to escape—rooted in intellect and imagination—echoes his mother’s hope, creating a subtle intergenerational symmetry.

The novel’s emotional resonance is profound. Dean guides the reader through a visceral spectrum of sadness, frustration, dread, and ultimately, a cathartic sorrow. The sense of helplessness that pervades the narrative is punctuated by flickers of resistance and grace, making the eventual emotional release all the more powerful. The prose is unflinching yet sensitive, and the psychological terrain it navigates is as nuanced as it is harrowing.

While the novel’s unrelenting tension and bleak setting may not appeal universally, its thematic depth, psychological insight, and emotional gravity mark it as one of Dean’s most accomplished works since The Last Thing to Burn. In its depiction of survival not through violence, but through intellect, imagination, and emotional endurance, this novel stands as a haunting and deeply affecting meditation on entrapment and the quiet tenacity of the human spirit.

I have to admit two things: first, this book is an absolute knockout—unflinchingly intense, psychologically riveting, and disturbingly brilliant. Second, it’s not for the faint of heart. It left me breathless, on edge, and—no exaggeration—chewing my nails down to the quick and urgently needing a mani! Every chapter drips with dread, urgency, and raw emotion. I had to step away at times just to collect myself, but the hope that things might somehow work out kept pulling me back until the very last page.

This story tackles extremely triggering and painful subjects: bullying, gaslighting, emotional abuse, forced isolation, parental cruelty, and even suicide. Each scene involving Drew—the manipulative, volatile husband—felt like a stone pressed on my chest. The more he exerted control, the more my fury toward him boiled over. He’s one of those characters you despise so deeply that it physically affects you.

We follow the lives of a small, shattered family—Drew, Peggy, and their fourteen-year-old son Samson. Drew, a once-famous author chasing a comeback, has dragged his family onto a rundown canal boat under the pretense of needing solitude to finish his next "masterpiece." In reality, they’re financially sinking after he forced Peggy to sell her mother’s house (her mother having died by suicide). He won’t let Peggy work, claiming it would destabilize her mental health, and insists on total silence during his “creative hours.” Meanwhile, he deprives his family of basic comfort—limited food, no heat, rationed water—while his fragile ego consumes all.

What Drew doesn’t realize is that Peggy has secretly been writing her own novel, submitting it to publishers through her volunteer library job. Her quiet rebellion is as heartbreaking as it is brave. As she tries to reclaim a piece of herself, her son Samson is being brutalized at school—bullied for his appearance, his poverty, and the suffocating strangeness of their lives. Each time Peggy and Samson attempt to form a connection with the outside world, something “accidental” happens to sever it, raising the terrifying question: are these truly coincidences, or part of Drew’s calculated grip?

We also get chilling flashbacks to Drew’s own youth, hinting early on at the dangerous man he would become—and what he’s capable of doing to anyone who threatens his control.

Peggy is left with a crushing decision: either break free or risk her son becoming a carbon copy of the man she fears most. But how do you escape someone who has rewritten the rules of your reality?

Overall: Five stars. Harrowing, thought-provoking, and unforgettable. This book burrowed into my psyche and left me reeling. It’s one of those dark psychological thrillers that stays with you long after you finish—heavy, raw, and masterfully crafted.

Many thanks to NetGalley and Atria Books / Atria–Emily Bestler Books for sharing this mind-blowing thriller’s digital reviewer copy with me in exchange for my honest thoughts.

Gaslighting in Tight Quarters

People under the pressure of being in confined spaces for long periods of time with others and what happens to them are themes Will Dean likes to explore. In his 2024 mystery “The Chamber” he combined a murder mystery with deep sea pipeline repair work by engineers within a diving bell to create as edgy sense of claustrophobia and insidious panic.

With his 2026 domestic thriller, “Adrift”, he takes a fresh, slower developing approach to “how do I escape my confinement” with the additional pressure of “can I?” The psychological tension is maintained but can be exhausting to imagine enduring.

Set in 1994 on a small houseboat on a backwater river around Cairo, Illinois, three people are making ends meet in a complex arrangement despite outward appearances. The two main narrators are mother and teenage son, Peggy and Samson Jenkins.

An important prologue about an event 21 years earlier involving Andrew “Drew” Jenkins, Peggy’s husband and Samson’s father, sets the stage for a spare and ominous tension permeating even simple routines and events in and around the houseboat confines. His presence is reminiscent of a brooding Harold Pinter or Samuel Beckett character.

The plot unfolds, first with hints of quirky behavior, then more threatening tension without physical abuse but always the sense that the potential is close to the surface. An unexpected twist sets events in motion that reminds one of the 1944 film, “Gaslight”, with the sinister relationships between Charles Boyer, Ingrid Bergman, and Angela Lansbury.

The development is quietly paced with constantly building tension for Peggy and Samson in their separate and overlapping daily routines – all within the ambiguity of Drew’s moods and implied demands. The subtle twists are engaging to follow but the relentlessness and anxiety are not for the faint of heart.

If you are ready to be immersed in a psychological thriller with an ironic resolution, this tale will keep you engrossed.

This book was well written with some really complex characters and a really heartbreaking story. A villain you love to hate but overall, the story was a bit too long for me. It seemed to drag in parts.

Deeply moving, heart-rending story of a wife/mother and teenage son surviving abuse in the close confines of a live-aboard boat. The characters are written nuanced and imperfect, and the changing perspectives across chapters show how each tries to protect and nurture their hope and self-determination. This is the sort of book you can't stop thinking about after you put it down.

Oh my, this is a dark depressing book that I had to DNF at about 25%. The story started out with a disturbing murder scene, I guess I thought the book would pick up with a little bit lighter storyline after that, no, it didn't. This is probably the creepiest book I have ever encountered.
Please remember, this is just my opinion, I am not speaking for all the other readers that enjoy a completely dysfunctional family with an OCD over-controlling father, if you want the creepy factor, this book reeks with it. It made me feel so uncomfortable for Samson and his mother. I just couldn't read it anymore. Drew is a psychopath.
Comes in with 3 stars. If you like this type of book, you will love it.

This is my own opinion of this ARC from NetGalley.

Thank you NetGalley and Atria Books for the ARC in exchanged for an honest review.

There is nothing stronger than a mother’s love and if I didn’t already know that, this book would have had me convinced. Adrift is a heartbreaking story about a family of three secluded from their rural town, living life on a boat. Drew, the father is an ambitious writer or never dealt with his childhood trauma. Peggy and Sammy live life walking on eggshells trying to keep Drew happy while also navigating their own internal struggles.

Peggy is the pillar of motherhood. The strength that woman possessed was so inspiring. She never once gave up on Sammy or her own dreams. Drew’s character, as hated as he is, was written with so much depth and accuracy. It’s a powerful testament to how childhood trauma can affect you into adulthood if you don’t take a stand and change the cycle. I was so worried about the ending, but it was exactly what I needed it to be.

If you’ve been in an emotionally abusive relationship of any kind - partner to partner or parent to child, please tread carefully with this book.

I should have know better than to read this book in public, as I sat on a packed plane, trying to hide the tears running down my face as I read the final scenes.

This book, I don't even know where to begin. This book was to profound to me: it was so dark, so moving, so infuriating, so tense. I had a very visceral experience reading this book. Adrift is a thriller, in the marketing sense, and yes it is definitely nail biting. But to me, this book represents the raw side of manipulation, coercive control, and phycological abuse that goes on behind closed doors in so many homes, more than we will ever know.

As a survivor of psychological abuse, I can attest to the accuracy with which Dean wrote about this kind of manipulation and gaslighting. I highlighted whole pages that so perfectly show how a manipulator works. Maybe a different situation from person to person, but the control is the same. It's a difficult thing to live through, and even more difficult to describe and explain to others. A manipulator will play the long game, slowly but effectively painting you into a corner until you have no where left to turn. The longer you stay, the smaller the corner gets.

The characters and their relationships with each other was another very beautiful thing about this novel, I especially loved the way Peggy and her son survived together and I found Samson's evolution into his teen years to be wholly accurate: he still loves his mother but he has a newfound selfishness as he begins to search for autonomy and a sense of identity.

Once again, the books I love the most are the hardest to review, the hardest to explain just how they touched my heart. But the heart isn't easy to explain, is it? Adrift is a powerful story with a powerful message, it is thrilling, it is angering, it evokes many emotions that I image will differ from reader to reader. I couldn't put it down, and this book means a lot to me, it will stay with me for a long time.

I received a free digital copy from the publisher, all opinions are my own.

I enjoyed this enough, with its excellent pacing and lyrical prose, to give it four stars, but STRONGLY recommend taking out any references to the United States as the setting. Every bit of dialogue and most of the unintentional phrasing was so British it actually read with an accent. Also, that isn't how poor Americans handle heathcare. It just doesn't work that way at all.

3.5 ⭐️ Rounded Up

This book started strong—I was hooked by the first half. I’m not usually drawn to mystery/thrillers, but Adrift pulled me in right from the start. The opening is jarring and unforgettable: a boy locks his parents in their bedroom and sets the house on fire. 😳🔥

From there, we fast-forward to his adult life—he’s now a manipulative, emotionally abusive husband and a checked-out father. The story focuses on his wife’s strength and survival, which had so much potential… but unfortunately, the second half lost some of its momentum.

While the concept was powerful and the themes of resilience and emotional abuse were compelling, the execution fizzled a bit toward the end. Still, it’s worth a read if you enjoy slow-burn psychological thrillers with heavy emotional undertones.

Oooof this one was a difficult one for me. As someone with a history of toxic and manipulative exes, I struggled with reading how Drew treated Peggy and Samson. Every page was just me hoping she'd grow balls an off him.
A good read, but I had some triggers with it

Adrift is the story of a family living in semi-isolation on a canal boat. A severe and controlling father, a mother who is an aspiring writer who is stifled by her husband and her deep desire to keep her child safe.

This story was so so so hard to read. You felt so deeply for Peggy and her son Samson. They both just deeply want to be happy, and Drew prevents it at every turn.

A tragic story of loss, of love, and of abusive relationships. This was a hard read.

Adrift
Thanks to NetGalley and Atria for providing me with an advanced digital copy in exchange for my honest review.

If you could bottle claustrophobia into a book, this would be it.

Reading this was reading everything I hate, but in a good way? If that makes sense? This book puts to page all my fears and anxieties and made me so so angry. But not at the book, at the pos that is Andrew Jenkins.

From the very first chapter I felt nothing but fear and dread for Sammy and Peggy and every chapter after just reinforced that feeling. I actually felt like I couldn’t breathe for long stretches.

Eat shorts Drew, be glad I never found you.

The ending got tied up into a pretty neat little bow (uhhhh….sorta?) and I could have done with less catching up during the epilogue but also I’m not going to complain that these two got the closest to a happy ending as humanly possible given the circumstances.

I really struggled to finish this book. I couldn’t connect with the main male character, and ultimately decided to DNF. That said, I did enjoy the author’s writing style and would be open to trying another one of their books.