Full of daring fools, haunting old flames, and brimming with panicked villainy, the Oregon countryside was meant to solve Canner Connelly’s problems, not make them worse. But, after their well-intentioned move to Cedardale Court, the safety and peace of mind he’s longed for since the passing of his wife, for him and his daughter, Chloe, might be farther away than ever.
Almost as soon as the sun comes up, the promising start at Uncle Henry’s falls rather short when the ever inept inhabitants of Cedardale Court start their days. One domestic dispute, a little reckless driving, and a broken fire hydrant later, what normally might have been an enjoyable Sunday morning quickly turns into a slightly darker affair when a human hand turns up in the bushes.
From then on, things only get messier and more frightfully uncertain as, one by one, the secrets that have been so carefully kept, for so very long, unravel for everyone.
*A neo-gothic fabulation, bordered on the lines of hysterical realism, wrapped up in a quirky little murder mystery*
Almost as soon as the sun comes up, the promising start at Uncle Henry’s falls rather short when the ever inept inhabitants of Cedardale Court start their days. One domestic dispute, a little reckless driving, and a broken fire hydrant later, what normally might have been an enjoyable Sunday morning quickly turns into a slightly darker affair when a human hand turns up in the bushes.
From then on, things only get messier and more frightfully uncertain as, one by one, the secrets that have been so carefully kept, for so very long, unravel for everyone.
*A neo-gothic fabulation, bordered on the lines of hysterical realism, wrapped up in a quirky little murder mystery*
