Fiction by Michael Crichton.
This was a pretty good book, especially for one written by a dead guy.
I say this because Michael Crichton actually died in 2008, but this book just came out. Apparently he'd been writing it, and his estate hired a guy to finish it up. The result was not bad.
Usually I don't care for posthumous releases, the worst of which being all the books V.C. Andrews wrote after she died. That woman has been dead since 1986! And she's STILL releasing books!
But I digress.
Micro was not Crichton's best novel, but it wasn't the worst either. I enjoyed it. I will say, though, if you have trouble with willing suspension of disbelief, it's not for you.
I'll put it this way: It was kind of like Jurassic Park meets Honey I Shrunk the Kids.
Try to imagine THAT...