One More Minute is one of the most impressive debut novels I’ve ever read—bold, imaginative, emotionally charged, and wholly original. Oscar Bunnik doesn’t just tell a story; he builds a world that grips you by the throat and doesn’t let go. It’s the kind of book that haunts your thoughts even after you’ve closed it, the kind that makes you question how far you’d go for love, and what price you’d be willing to pay for just one more minute.
The premise is immediately captivating: Clayton Miller, broken by the loss of his fiancée, finds himself at the edge of despair—until the devil appears with a twisted proposition. Clayton can be with her again, feel her touch, hear her voice… but every minute comes at a cost: someone must die. It’s a dark, brilliant setup, but what truly elevates the novel is how Bunnik handles it. This isn’t just a fast-paced thriller or a supernatural mind-bender—it’s a layered exploration of grief, guilt, and morality.
What struck me most is how intentional everything feels. There’s no filler. Every scene, every character, every choice seems to serve a greater purpose. The world is rich, eerie, and beautifully constructed—from New Kopler Bay to the eerie Fallstein Bridge. Her chapters are a highlight: chilling, cinematic, and dripping with tension. Equally chilling is the storyline of Chun-li, which has left me with so many questions.
One of the most fascinating aspects of reading this novel is watching Bunnik grow as an author across its pages. The beginning is already strong—tight prose, great pacing, intriguing dialogue—but as the story unfolds, you can almost feel him stepping more confidently into his voice. The writing becomes more fluid, the emotions hit harder, and the storytelling gains a kind of raw elegance that’s rare to see, especially in a debut. If anything, this evolution adds to the book’s charm. You’re not just reading a gripping story—you’re watching the birth of a serious literary talent.
If there’s any critique to give, it’s really more of a footnote than a flaw. There are occasional editing slips—a missed word here, a small typo there—but nothing major, and certainly nothing that pulls you out of the experience. The strength of the story, the characters, and the concept far outweigh any technical imperfections.
All in all, One More Minute is a knockout. It’s deeply human, darkly imaginative, and filled with scenes that stay with you long after you’re done. It asks big questions—about love, time, and sacrifice—and doesn’t offer easy answers. That’s what makes it so powerful. Oscar Bunnik has not only delivered a remarkable first novel—he’s announced himself as a writer to watch. I can’t wait to see what he does next.
John’s the resident literary connoisseur. He dissects classics and uncovers hidden gems. Expect his insights to enrich your reading journey, one page at a time.
