
Every time I opened this novel for another session of reading I swear I could hear the mournful howl of a bloodhound at the onset of dusk, feel mist pouring in, the whole business soulful and unsettling and setting up another super creepy chapter played out in a fading southern town in the mid 70s. Turns out in Red Bluff madness and grief run rampant and wild, lurking in the landscape and luring the unsuspecting victim to dark green corners. I will never view kudzu vines the same way again. ~ Reviewed by Nancy Scheemaker