What if you could have just one more minute with the person you lost?
That’s the soul-piercing question at the heart of One More Minute, the chilling and emotionally charged debut novel by Oscar Bunnik. And let me tell you—this book wrecked me in the best possible way.
At first glance, the premise feels like something out of a classic deal-with-the-devil tale. Clayton Miller, utterly broken after the death of his fiancée, is ready to end it all. Then the devil appears—not with brimstone and fire, but with an offer too cruelly tempting to resist: Clayton can be with her again. Hear her laugh. Hold her. Smell her hair. But every minute he wants… will cost him a life.
Yep. That’s the deal. And from there, this book takes a nosedive into the darkest corners of love, grief, and obsession.
What follows is not your typical thriller. It’s a psychological spiral. A moral puzzle box. A story that constantly shifts shape—sometimes tender, sometimes gruesome, sometimes downright terrifying. One moment you’re tearing up at a beautiful memory; the next, you’re gasping at what Clayton’s willing to do next.
What sets this novel apart isn’t just its high-concept premise. It’s the way Bunnik fearlessly explores what grief really looks like—raw, ugly, and deeply human. Clayton is a complicated protagonist. He won’t always be your favorite person (in fact, you’ll probably yell at him more than once), but that’s the point. He feels real. Messy. Desperate. And in that, he becomes someone you can’t look away from.
The supporting characters? Equally layered. The relationships Clayton forms—whether they’re friendships, alliances, or something harder to name—are powerful, often heartbreaking, and constantly evolving. Nothing stays simple for long in this world, and every bond comes with consequences.
Stylistically, Bunnik does something really brave here. He plays with structure, voice, and tone in ways that feel risky—and it works. The writing is immersive and filled with foreshadowing, symbolism, and subtle clues that only reveal their full weight when you look back (or better yet, when you re-read). It’s one of those books you immediately want to start over just to catch what you missed the first time.
And let’s talk unpredictability for a second—because One More Minute is full of jaw-dropping moments. Just when you think you know where it’s going, it yanks the rug out from under you.
Honestly, the less you know going in, the better. This is a story best discovered page by page, twist by twist.
Beneath the horror, heartbreak, and psychological tension, One More Minute raises big, uncomfortable questions: What does love demand of us? Who decides what a life is worth? Can grief ever be survived—or does it simply change us forever?
Oscar Bunnik doesn’t give you the answers. He just gives you a mirror. And what you see in it… well, that’s the haunting part.
If you’re looking for a novel that will shake you, move you, and stay with you long after you’ve turned the final page, One More Minute deserves a spot on your list. Just be warned: it doesn’t let go easy.