I am filing this one under "Bookstagram Made Me Do It".

The premise: A group of Southern ladies, all homemakers, decide to form a book club, with a special interest in true crime books. Life is going well, until James Harris shows up in town and proceeds to charm everyone into accepting him into their lives and families. But everywhere Harris goes, children tend to disappear. He has a strange tendency to ask to be invited over the threshold, and he doesn't like the sunshine even though he lives in the South. Is he the affable new family friend, or something much more menacing?

I saw this book all over bookstagram accounts and decided to give it a try, although horror is not my preferred genre. This campy take on the time-honoured tale of a mysterious stranger in town had a well-constructed plot and some enjoyable (although one-dimensional) characters. However I had to keep reminding myself that this was set in the late 80s and early 90s because the lives of the women read like a 50s-era housewife, which was off-putting. None of the four wives worked outside the home; the men all engaged in financial endeavours which were clearly above the heads of their wives; and they don't tell their husbands what they are actually reading because they won't approve! Mr. Hendrix, give me a break.

Ultimately, I couldn't find humour in the novel as some readers did, and I perceived it all as rather grim. I may be willing to give another Grady Hendrix book a try but I cannot vouch for this one. 2.5 stars rounded up to 3 only because I really enjoyed Miss Mary.