Fond of a fairytale? Try John Connolly's The Book of Lost Things

Until I reached the grand old age of whatever it was and read my first book - Enid Blyton's The Castle of Adventure, if you must know - my mum read to me every night.

She generally read fairy tales - probably because they are nice and short and perfect for a child's attention span - but looking back, how scary are they?

I vaguely remember Hans Christian Andersen's tale about the girl who couldn't stop dancing because of her red shoes. I can't remember what the little girl did (probably something deceitful) but that was her punishment - doomed to dance forever more until, I think, her feet were eventually cut off and she died.

Harsh! Enough to frighten a child for life it seems.

So it was with some trepidation I turned to The Book of Lost Things - a story about a young boy sucked into a fairytale world following the death of his mother.

The book is set at the start of the Second World War but that is spectacularly unimportant really, considering most of the book is spent in a world populated by trolls, wolves, kings, knights and the requisite terrified villagers.

In true fairy tale fashion the little boy, David, follows a well-worn path through a forest encountering and overcoming all sorts of trials and tribulations along the way.

In the end, there is a lesson - it's probably best not to be bitter and jealous because you might just end up selling the soul of the person you loathe (but actually love) and be doomed to misery forever.

So far, so typically terrifying.

Still, it's a fabulous journey through fairytales - every now and then you are treated to a familiar story - seven little men off to work (although if I'm honest, that part was mildly laboured - no pun intended) a gingerbread house and the obligatory woman locked in a tower.

I was mildly short changed though when I realised the book was drawing to a conclusion with a considerable inch of text remaining - only to realise the author had shoved in a huge appendix citing every fairy tale he had referenced. Honestly, no need.

If you're a fellow lover of grim and dark child-murdering fairytales of old you might like this one. Is there such a thing as a happy ending?