Plot Summary
Blood Among the Jonquils
On a spring day in Texas, Darla Jean Carmichael is murdered in her church, her innocence stolen and her body left among jonquils. The killer, driven by a warped sense of purity and betrayal, marks the beginning of a series of ritualistic murders. Each victim is a young girl, each left with a signature flower, and each death is a twisted act of "protection" or punishment. The killer's voice is chillingly intimate, justifying violence as love. This first act of violence sets the tone for the years of trauma and investigation to come, as the killer's compulsion grows and the pattern of springtime murders begins. The world of the survivors and those who hunt the killer is forever changed, haunted by the memory of blood among the flowers.
Survivors and Scars
Special Agent Brandon Eddison, still grieving his missing sister, is introduced alongside his colleagues, Mercedes Ramirez and Victor Hanoverian. Their lives are shaped by the cases they work—especially the unsolved murders of young girls, including Chavi Sravasti, whose sister Priya remains deeply scarred. Priya, now a restless teenager, moves from city to city with her mother, both women carrying the weight of Chavi's murder. The agents and Priya form an unlikely, found-family bond, united by trauma and the search for justice. Each character's pain is raw and unresolved, their coping mechanisms ranging from dark humor to obsessive work. The scars of loss are visible in every interaction, and the hope for closure is as fragile as it is persistent.
Chessboard Friendships
In a new Colorado town, Priya discovers a group of elderly veterans who gather to play chess in a grocery store parking lot. The chess pavilion becomes her sanctuary, a place where she can lose and belong without pressure. The men, each carrying their own wounds from war and life, accept her into their circle. Through their camaraderie, Priya finds a measure of stability and connection, even as she remains haunted by her sister's death. The chess games are more than distraction—they are a metaphor for the careful moves and strategies required to survive trauma. The friendships forged here are genuine, offering Priya a rare sense of welcome and understanding in a world that often feels hostile and unpredictable.
Letters Across Trauma
Priya receives a letter from Inara Morrissey, a survivor of the infamous Butterfly Garden, seeking advice on how to live after unimaginable trauma. Their correspondence becomes a lifeline, a space where both girls can confess their fears, anger, and exhaustion. Inara's struggle to be strong for others mirrors Priya's own battles with grief and guilt. Through their letters, they explore the complexities of survival—how to carry on when the world expects healing, how to accept brokenness, and how to find meaning in pain. Their connection is intimate and honest, a testament to the power of shared experience and the need for community among those marked by violence.
Flowers at the Door
As spring returns, Priya and her mother begin receiving bouquets of flowers at their doorstep—jonquils, calla lilies, and more—each matching the signature left at a previous murder scene. The deliveries are both threat and message, a chilling sign that the killer has found them again. The FBI is alerted, but internal politics and jurisdictional disputes hinder their response. The flowers are a cruel reminder of the past and a warning of what may come. Priya is forced to confront the reality that she is being watched, her every move potentially observed by a predator who believes he is protecting her. The sense of safety she has built begins to unravel, replaced by dread and vigilance.
Patterns and Predators
Eddison, Ramirez, and Vic work desperately to connect the murders and protect Priya, but are stymied by a rigid section chief who refuses to see the pattern. The killer's ritual—flowers, churches, springtime, and young girls—becomes clearer, but the lack of hard evidence and the killer's cunning make progress agonizingly slow. The agents' frustration mounts as they realize the system meant to protect is failing, and Priya is left exposed. The narrative explores the limitations of law enforcement, the dangers of bureaucratic inflexibility, and the emotional toll on those who care deeply about the victims. The predator remains at large, emboldened by the very chaos he creates.
The Weight of Grief
Priya's memories of her sister's murder and her father's subsequent suicide are raw and ever-present. The rituals she and her mother have developed—candles, journals, and shared meals—are both comfort and burden. The pain of loss is compounded by guilt, the sense that they should have done more, known more, or been able to prevent further deaths. Priya's struggle with disordered eating is a manifestation of her need for control in a world that feels uncontrollable. The chapter delves into the complexities of grief, the ways it shapes identity, and the slow, uneven process of healing. The past is never far, and the future is shadowed by the threat of more violence.
The FBI's Fractured Shield
The agents' efforts to protect Priya are undermined by internal politics and a section chief more concerned with protocol than people. Requests for surveillance and protection are denied or delayed, leaving Priya vulnerable. The agents are forced to work around the system, relying on personal favors and local contacts. The tension between duty and compassion is palpable, as is the frustration of being unable to do enough. The chapter highlights the human cost of institutional failure, the moral compromises required, and the resilience of those who refuse to give up. The shield meant to protect is cracked, and the danger grows ever closer.
Gifts and Warnings
As more flowers arrive—each matching a past victim—the sense of impending doom intensifies. The community becomes uneasy, and Priya's circle of support tightens. The killer's gifts are both taunt and promise, a ritualistic countdown to violence. The FBI and local police scramble to identify the stalker, but the killer's ability to blend in and manipulate technology keeps him hidden. The chapter explores the psychology of obsession, the ways predators groom and isolate their targets, and the impact on those who live under constant threat. The line between warning and attack blurs, and the sense of safety is all but gone.
The Stalker's Shadow
Attention turns to Landon, a socially awkward man who has been following Priya. When he is found murdered—castrated and brutalized—the investigation takes a darker turn. The killer has eliminated a rival, acting as a twisted guardian. The realization that the true predator is someone even more cunning and dangerous is chilling. The agents and Priya are forced to reconsider everything they thought they knew about the case. The killer's fixation on "good girls" and his willingness to kill to protect his ideal reveal a mind both delusional and deadly. The shadow over Priya grows longer, and the sense of being hunted becomes inescapable.
The Bait and the Trap
Desperate for resolution, Priya and her mother devise a plan to draw the killer out. With the FBI's protection compromised, Priya convinces Agent Archer to take her to a remote chapel under the guise of photographing stained glass. She knows the killer will see this as an opportunity. Archer, eager to prove himself, leaves her alone as bait, believing backup is nearby. The trap is set, but Priya is painfully aware of the risks. The chapter is tense and claustrophobic, as Priya prepares herself for a confrontation that may end in her death. The line between hunter and hunted is razor-thin.
The Good Girl's Test
In the snowbound chapel, Priya faces Joshua—her stalker, her sister's murderer, and the architect of so much pain. He brings white roses, intending to "protect" her forever. The confrontation is brutal and intimate, a struggle for survival and agency. Priya fights back with everything she has, stabbing him repeatedly in a desperate bid to live. The violence is both cathartic and horrifying, a culmination of years of fear and grief. As the killer bleeds out, Priya is left shaken but alive, her hands stained with the blood of her tormentor. The test of the "good girl" is over, and Priya has chosen to live.
Confessions in the Snow
Priya is rescued and taken to the hospital, where she is reunited with her mother and the agents who have become her family. The killer, revealed as Jameson Carmichael, dies from his wounds, taking with him the secrets of his crimes. The evidence found in his apartment confirms his guilt, and the case is finally closed. The survivors—Priya, her mother, and the agents—are left to process the trauma and the relief. There is no easy resolution, but there is a sense of completion. The confessions—spoken and unspoken—are a necessary step toward healing.
The End of Waiting
With the killer dead and the threat ended, Priya and her mother prepare to move to France, seeking a new beginning. The agents, too, must find a way to let go, to accept that justice has been served, if imperfectly. The bonds forged in trauma remain strong, and the promise of continued connection offers hope. The chapter is bittersweet, acknowledging the scars that remain but also the possibility of happiness. The survivors are no longer defined solely by their pain; they are free to imagine a future beyond fear.
Healing and Homecomings
In the days before their departure, Priya and her mother gather with friends and chosen family, celebrating survival and the ties that bind. Letters and visits from Inara and Bliss, the Butterfly Garden survivors, reinforce the theme of community and resilience. The act of saying goodbye is both painful and liberating, a recognition that healing is possible but never complete. The chapter emphasizes the importance of agency, the right to choose one's path, and the strength found in vulnerability. Home is not a place, but the people who love and understand you.
Choosing to Bloom
As Priya and her mother settle into their new life in France, the narrative shifts from survival to growth. The rituals of grief are transformed into rituals of hope—spreading Chavi's ashes in a lavender field, making new friends, and reconnecting with distant family. Priya's journey is one of reclaiming agency, choosing to bloom despite the darkness. The scars remain, but they are no longer the defining feature of her life. The chapter is a celebration of resilience, the courage to move forward, and the power of self-definition.
Justice, Not Victimhood
In the closing chapter, Priya reflects on the meaning of justice and the choice to reject victimhood. The killer's death is not a panacea, but it is an end to the waiting, the fear, and the sense of powerlessness. Priya's final words are a declaration of autonomy: she is no one's victim. The narrative ends on a note of hard-won hope, acknowledging the pain of the past but refusing to be defined by it. Justice is not perfect, but it is enough to allow for healing, growth, and the possibility of happiness.
Analysis
Roses of May is a profound exploration of trauma, survival, and the search for justice in the aftermath of violence. Dot Hutchison crafts a narrative that is as much about the psychological scars left by crime as it is about the pursuit of a killer. The novel interrogates the limitations of institutional protection, the complexities of grief, and the necessity of agency for those who have been victimized. Through its multi-voice structure and epistolary elements, the story offers a nuanced portrait of survivors—each struggling to define themselves beyond their pain, each seeking connection and meaning. The ritualistic violence of the killer is both a metaphor for the cycles of trauma and a commentary on the dangers of idealizing purity and control. Ultimately, the novel rejects the notion of passive victimhood, insisting instead on the power of choice, community, and self-definition. The lesson is clear: healing is possible, but it is neither linear nor solitary. Justice, imperfect as it may be, is found not only in the punishment of the guilty but in the reclamation of life by the survivors.
Review Summary
Roses of May, the second book in The Collector series, receives mixed reviews averaging 3.92 stars. Many readers found it slower-paced and less gripping than The Butterfly Garden, with a police procedural focus rather than the first book's intensity. The story follows Priya, whose sister was murdered by a serial killer, and FBI agents from book one. While some praised the strong female characters, beautiful writing, and character development, others criticized the predictable killer reveal, unrealistic FBI relationships, and weak connections to the original story. Several reviewers noted it works better as a standalone than a direct sequel.
People Also Read
Characters
Priya Sravasti
Priya is the younger sister of Chavi, a murder victim whose death shattered their family. Intelligent, fiercely independent, and deeply wounded, Priya struggles with grief, guilt, and disordered eating. Her relationship with her mother is both anchor and lifeline, marked by honesty and mutual support. Priya's journey is one of reclaiming agency—refusing to be defined by trauma, forging connections with other survivors, and ultimately confronting her sister's killer. Her psychological complexity is evident in her need for control, her oscillation between vulnerability and defiance, and her determination to choose her own path. Priya's development is a testament to resilience, the power of found family, and the courage to bloom after devastation.
Deshani Sravasti
Deshani is Priya's mother, a formidable woman who balances professional success with unwavering devotion to her daughter. Her approach to grief is pragmatic—rituals, honesty, and a refusal to wallow. Deshani's relationship with Priya is unusually open, marked by mutual respect and a shared sense of humor. She is willing to bend or break rules to protect her child, even contemplating vigilante justice. Her psychological strength is both a shield and a potential source of isolation, as she struggles to allow herself vulnerability. Deshani's arc is one of learning to accept help, to reconnect with family, and to support Priya's quest for agency without losing herself to vengeance.
Brandon Eddison
Eddison is an FBI agent haunted by the disappearance of his sister, Faith. His professional competence is matched by emotional volatility—anger, guilt, and a fierce protectiveness toward Priya and other survivors. Eddison's relationships are shaped by trauma, leading him to form deep, familial bonds with those he is meant to protect. His psychological profile is marked by a need for control, a tendency to internalize blame, and a struggle to balance duty with compassion. Eddison's development is a journey toward acceptance—of his limitations, his need for connection, and the imperfect nature of justice.
Victor Hanoverian
Vic is the senior FBI agent, a calm and experienced presence who anchors the team. His leadership style is paternal, offering guidance, protection, and emotional support to both colleagues and survivors. Vic's psychological resilience is rooted in empathy and a deep sense of responsibility. He is adept at navigating bureaucracy, but never loses sight of the human cost of his work. Vic's role as a surrogate father to Priya and others is both a source of strength and a reminder of the boundaries between professional and personal life. His development is subtle, marked by quiet acts of care and the willingness to fight for those he loves.
Mercedes Ramirez
Mercedes is an FBI agent whose own history of trauma informs her work. She is both fierce and nurturing, offering comfort to victims and challenging her colleagues to confront their own pain. Mercedes's psychological complexity is evident in her ability to balance vulnerability with strength, humor with seriousness. Her relationships are marked by loyalty and a refusal to tolerate bullshit. Mercedes's development is a testament to the power of empathy, the importance of self-care, and the necessity of boundaries in the face of overwhelming suffering.
Inara Morrissey
Inara is a survivor of the Butterfly Garden, a trauma that has left her both strong and fragile. She becomes a leader among the other survivors, offering support while struggling with her own sense of brokenness. Inara's correspondence with Priya reveals a deep need for understanding, a fear of failing others, and a desire to define herself beyond victimhood. Her psychological journey is one of learning to accept imperfection, to seek help, and to find meaning in survival. Inara's development is a mirror to Priya's, both women navigating the complexities of healing and the burden of expectation.
Jameson Carmichael / Joshua
Jameson, also known as Joshua, is the serial killer whose crimes drive the narrative. His psychological profile is marked by obsession, delusion, and a warped sense of love and protection. He targets "good girls," seeking to preserve their innocence through murder, and eliminates rivals with brutal efficiency. Jameson's ability to blend in, to appear normal and even kind, makes him all the more dangerous. His fixation on Priya is both paternal and possessive, a reflection of his unresolved trauma over his sister's death. Jameson's development is a descent into madness, culminating in a final confrontation that exposes the emptiness of his justifications.
Landon Burnside
Landon is a socially awkward man who becomes a suspect due to his fixation on Priya. His presence is unsettling, but ultimately he is revealed to be a red herring—himself a victim of the true killer. Landon's psychological profile is one of loneliness, desperation, and a lack of self-awareness. His murder serves as a turning point in the investigation, highlighting the killer's willingness to eliminate threats and the dangers of misdirection. Landon's role is a cautionary tale about the perils of obsession and the ease with which predators can hide in plain sight.
The Chess Veterans
The group of elderly veterans who play chess in the parking lot serve as mentors and surrogate family for Priya. Each man carries his own scars—physical, emotional, and psychological—but together they create a space of acceptance and understanding. Their camaraderie is a model of resilience, their humor a balm for pain. The veterans' willingness to welcome Priya, to protect her, and to share their stories is a testament to the healing power of community. Their development is collective, a reminder that survival is often a group effort.
Bliss and the Butterfly Survivors
Bliss and the other survivors of the Butterfly Garden represent the broader community of those marked by trauma. Their relationships with Priya and Inara are complex—competitive, supportive, and sometimes fraught. Each survivor navigates the aftermath of violence in her own way, struggling with identity, trust, and the desire for normalcy. Their psychological journeys are marked by setbacks and breakthroughs, moments of connection and isolation. Together, they embody the challenges and possibilities of healing, the importance of agency, and the refusal to be defined solely by victimhood.
Plot Devices
Ritualistic Symbolism and Patterned Violence
The killer's use of flowers, churches, and the spring season as ritualistic elements creates a pattern that both drives the investigation and deepens the psychological horror. Each murder is marked by a specific flower, chosen for its symbolic connection to the victim. The repetition of these motifs serves as both clue and taunt, forcing the characters—and the reader—to confront the cyclical nature of trauma and the difficulty of breaking free. The ritual is both a mask and a message, a way for the killer to impose order on chaos and for the survivors to find meaning in suffering.
Epistolary and Multi-Voice Structure
The narrative employs letters, emails, and shifting points of view to explore the psychological landscapes of its characters. The correspondence between Priya and Inara offers intimate access to their fears, hopes, and strategies for survival. The alternating perspectives of agents, survivors, and even the killer create a mosaic of experience, highlighting the interconnectedness of trauma and the multiplicity of truth. This structure allows for foreshadowing, dramatic irony, and a deepening of emotional resonance, as each character's voice adds a layer to the unfolding story.
Foreshadowing and Red Herrings
The use of red herrings—most notably Landon—serves to misdirect both characters and readers, heightening suspense and emphasizing the difficulty of identifying true threats. Foreshadowing is woven throughout, from the early flower deliveries to the killer's internal monologues. The narrative plays with expectations, subverting tropes of the genre and forcing the reader to question assumptions. The uncertainty is both a source of tension and a reflection of the real-world complexities of trauma and investigation.
Found Family and Chosen Community
The theme of found family is central, as survivors and agents form bonds that transcend blood and duty. These relationships offer support, challenge, and the possibility of healing. The narrative structure reinforces this, with scenes of shared meals, chess games, and letters serving as counterpoints to violence and loss. The power of community is both a plot device and a thematic statement, suggesting that survival is not a solitary endeavor but a collective one.
Agency and Self-Determination
The narrative foregrounds the importance of agency—Priya's decision to set the trap, her refusal to be defined by victimhood, and the survivors' ongoing efforts to shape their own futures. The structure allows for moments of choice and consequence, highlighting the tension between fate and free will. The plot is driven as much by the survivors' actions as by the killer's, subverting the typical dynamic of predator and prey. The ultimate resolution is not just the end of violence, but the reclamation of self.
Download PDF
Download EPUB
.epub digital book format is ideal for reading ebooks on phones, tablets, and e-readers.
