Jack Ketchum steps very far away from the first novel with this third book, opting to explore the savagery of a fairly normal family man compared to the savagery of a cannibalistic woman who doesn’t understand our definition of normal. It’s vulgar and crass—needlessly so—and takes a fun trilogy into a very dark area. I don’t get offended by stuff, but even I think this book went in a direction it didn’t need to go in.