Kim Devland nearly has it all. A great marriage. A baby on the way. All that's missing is a house--one idyllic enough to fill the Norman Rockwell-shaped spaces in her mind. So when Kim's husband, Eddie, books a property tour of a home Kim has been eyeing online, it's love at first sight.
Far too expensive for them to afford, Kim and Eddie, make an offer anyway...and score the deal of a lifetime.
The house is suddenly theirs, and Kim sees it as destiny.
The house is where they're supposed to raise their baby, joyful and free and full of nothing but the best memories. But homes--especially the perfect ones--are never what they seem. Before Kim and Eddie are even moved in, something begins to squirm beneath Kim's skin.
Something portentous. A warning. Don't buy this house.
But she ignores her misgivings.
As if sensing its mother's foreboding, the baby begins to squirm beneath Kim's skin as well. Twisting. Writing. But Kim ignores that too.
Blinded by the idea of storybook happiness, Kim barrels headlong into a dream that quickly proves to be anything but and unwittingly seals her family's diabolical fate.
Paying homage to Ira Levin's Rosemary's Baby, Ahlborn's Palmetto takes the classic story of wanting it all and asks: how much would you sacrifice to have what you desire? And, watching your dream become a waking nightmare, how loud would you scream?
Kim Devland nearly has it all. A great marriage. A baby on the way. All that's missing is a house--one idyllic enough to fill the Norman Rockwell-shaped spaces in her mind. So when Kim's husband, Eddie, books a property tour of a home Kim has been eyeing online, it's love at first sight.
Far too expensive for them to afford, Kim and Eddie, make an offer anyway...and score the deal of a lifetime.
The house is suddenly theirs, and Kim sees it as destiny.
The house is where they're supposed to raise their baby, joyful and free and full of nothing but the best memories. But homes--especially the perfect ones--are never what they seem. Before Kim and Eddie are even moved in, something begins to squirm beneath Kim's skin.
Something portentous. A warning. Don't buy this house.
But she ignores her misgivings.
As if sensing its mother's foreboding, the baby begins to squirm beneath Kim's skin as well. Twisting. Writing. But Kim ignores that too.
Blinded by the idea of storybook happiness, Kim barrels headlong into a dream that quickly proves to be anything but and unwittingly seals her family's diabolical fate.
Paying homage to Ira Levin's Rosemary's Baby, Ahlborn's Palmetto takes the classic story of wanting it all and asks: how much would you sacrifice to have what you desire? And, watching your dream become a waking nightmare, how loud would you scream?