Sam is a furloughed archaeoentomologist (she studies the bugs at archaeological digs) who decides to spend the time she would have been at a dig visiting her mom, who lives at the home she inherited from Sam's late grandmother. Gran Mae was a piece of work — very judgmental and obsessive, with Southern racist sentiments just bubbling under the surface of her "nice and normal" lifestyle — and when she arrives, Sam is dismayed to find that her mom has returned the previously funky and colorful house to the boring off-whites and doilies of Gran Mae's time there. But what really weirds her out is the garden, which is full of perfect roses but completely devoid of insects. Things are obviously not right.
I've been on a bit of a Kingfisher kick recently, so this short horror novel is right up my alley as we head into spooky season. It's relatively gore-free (if you don't count all of the thorns from the rosebushes), but with plenty of "something's off here" atmospheric vibes and Kingfisher's trademark no-nonsense, realistic protagonist. No surprise that I loved it.
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