The Owls' House

1924. Cornwall. John Penhale has retreated so far into himself that the moors have become his only companion. A farming accident left him disfigured, and what followed was worse: years of solitary silence, a life measured by the walls of his house and the boundaries of his land. The world turned its face away, and he was grateful for it. But solitude has its own gravity, and Penhale finds himself trapped by the very fortress he built. Then someone arrives - someone who sees past the scarred landscape of his face to the man beneath. The question becomes whether a wound this deep can still heal, and what price love demands when it finally comes to those who've forgotten how to want it. Garstin writes with the brutal poetry of Cornish weather and the quiet devastation of lives lived in margin. This is a novel about the territories of the heart: how we carve them out, how we guard them, and how the right person can still find the gate.