“A lush mystery with the underpinnings of a fairy tale shot through with magic and tragedy. Karen Hugg is the rare author who can blend wonder and suspense.”
–Emily Carpenter
To explore The Forgetting Flower, click here.
Welcome, I’m Karen and I write literary mysteries and thrillers inspired by plants. Plants are my passion. In fact, as I write this, I keep glancing out my window at my garden. Leaves of deep green, purple flowers, dark corners, and bright sunshine. It’s a wonderland out there and I try to render the awe of green creatures in words.
I especially love the idea of plants inside a city. Yes, the natural world of forests and fields and rivers and mountains is alluring but the trees, the shrubs, the perennials that grow amidst the concrete and structures of a stony, dense civilization … well, that’s truly a feat.
I believe it’s such a feat that I wrote a story about one such instance. The plant is the Violet Smoke and the city is Paris. It’s hidden in a little shop in Saint-Germain but more than one person wants to get it out of there. Does it ever? Well, the answer is inside my novel, The Forgetting Flower.
For more about Karen, click here.
Newsletter
Every month, I compile a digest about the latest books I’m reading, plants I’m growing, music I’m listening to, and my thoughts on Paris or travel. I toss in bits of writing advice and inspiration I’ve come across as well. Sometimes even a pic of a cute cat or dog (both mine and others).
Blog
I also post to my blog about once a week. I write about what I’ve been reading, interesting plants, Paris, the craft of writing, and what’s been inspiring me. Here are some of my latest posts.
- Why Pinterest is Fantastic for Discovering Your Brand
- The Easy-to-Grow Wonderful Hydrangea
- Lisa Barr Brings Energy and Sex to her New Novel
- Enter for a Free Copy of The Forgetting Flower Today!
- Death in Avignon, Murder in Provence’s Art World
Giveaway
My cat Aleksy is giving away free The Forgetting Flower bookmarks while supplies last. Get one HERE.
Sometimes he used a spade in his garden, and sometimes he read and wrote. He had but one name for these two kinds of labor; he called them gardening.
–Victor Hugo, Les Miserables