FTC Disclaimer: Bloomsbury provided a free digital ARC of this book for review purposes. 
 I'm not sure how to describe this book. I don't feel I can do it justice in a summary, especially one that captures how beautifully complex it is without giving away the whole ending (although it's not a shocker! twist! ending and I suppose could be given away with impunity). So here's the copy from Goodreads, and I suppose it will have to be sufficient: 
 A seven-year-old girl puts a nail gun to her grandmother's neck and fires. An isolated incident, say the experts. The experts are wrong. Across the world, children are killing their families. Is violence contagious? As chilling murders by children grip the country, anthropologist Hesketh Lock has his own mystery to solve: a bizarre scandal in the Taiwan timber industry. Hesketh has never been good at relationships: Asperger's Syndrome has seen to that. But he does have a talent for spotting behavioral patterns and an outsider's fascination with group dynamics. Nothing obvious connects Hesketh's Asian case with the atrocities back home. Or with the increasingly odd behavior of his beloved stepson, Freddy. But when Hesketh's Taiwan contact dies shockingly and more acts of sabotage and child violence sweep the globe, he is forced to acknowledge possibilities that defy the rational principles on which he has staked his life, his career, and, most devastatingly of all, his role as a father. Part psychological thriller, part dystopian nightmare, The Uninvited is a powerful and viscerally unsettling portrait of apocalypse in embryo. 
 Hesketh is a distinctly uncomfortable narrator, mostly because of the way he doesn't interact with people well. As a reader without Asperger's, I could see the mistakes he was making and they made me cringe--as I suspect they were meant to. Yet only someone with his particular mindset could have navigated the strange waters of this "apocalypse in embryo" the way he does. While I'm no expert in disabilities or disability literary studies, it seems to me that Jensen has carefully crafted an honest internal view of a person with Asperger's without ever making Hesketh seem like a child or stupid or any other potential traps that an author could have fallen into. And yet, because of his disability, Hesketh is the most reliable possible narrator because he never tells himself anything less than the truth, and he never allows his imagination to run away with him. Thus, when he sees things that others claim he couldn't have seen, or suspects things that people say are impossible, we as readers understand that he did see them, and they are possible. 
 The story itself is also uncomfortable, standing as a condemnation of human excess that executes its moral tale much better (and more subtly) than M. Night Shyamalan's The Happening. Any time children are violent and creepy, the story itself is distinctly creepy, and this is certainly the case in The Uninvited. There are no easy ways out of this story, no reset after the creepiness is contained, no way to go back to the way things used to be.