The Louboutin-loving print reporter makes us want to read her. She writes well because she knows how to talk well to……everyone in Richmond, Virginia. And seems to fit in everywhere, despite the heels.
Lyndee Walker tells us that “she has always wanted to be Lois Lane…” and gives us a character with curves and connections and a boss she calls “Chief”….
Sisters who all somehow ‘lose’ their husbands on the same day — all in different circumstances and for different reasons — and yet are able re-find their lives and themselves, but better.
Adorable series that begins, improbably, with a scene from Pearl Buck’s The Good Earth — a seraglio of men sitting looking at a series of photos or paintings of women who are too beautiful to be real. But they are real. And they have a price.
In this case, the women all belong to a General; they are his daughters, and the men who have been looking at their photographs for months are waiting for their next mission. They don’t realize that the daughters are their mission.
A sister who witnessed her brother’s murder goes back to her home town after 10 years to find the killer. As usual with Sharon Sala, the main character is layered, magnetic, surrounded by friends and neighbors each of whom reflect her differently… There are also the usual divisions of wealth, of class, the separation of one person from another by virtue of their social position and place. And of course, there is the compelling and irresistible plot which draws us in, engages us and wraps us up — for a time.
Despite a perfect narrator, with a perfect Italian pronunciation of pithy Italian sayings, the mystery lacks a singularly compelling plot, indeed any plot. Disappointing because the author has a lot to say. ….
Despite all the buzzy, instagram-thick keywords about making a living as a media blogger, cook and home renovator, the main character’s Mrs Marple is just a bit too stupid, a bit too simplistic to care about or believe in.
When a computer salesman comes home she greets him with a smile which denies the need to talk about the bill, all the bills, for things he wants to deny her. Later, in the bath, she shoots him. His name is Dennis Poole. He is the kind of man who tips exactly 15% and not a penny more and is proud because it shows he can figure it out in his head. He is a man with a soft belly and thinning hair who sells equipment to other men like himself and he is the cousin of a Los Angeles hood who hires Joe Pitt to find out who killed him.
Dennis Poole is introduced on page 2, killed on page 4, but we have a clear and exact idea of him. Enough to groan a little when his blood drains into the bath. Just enough of a character to make us curious.
There are more clear and distinct ideas, probable, precise images of characters, types, and encounters. The character of the murderess, amateurish, superficial, but conniving, good at imitating emotions but unempathetic, is a live sketch of a psychopath.
The dialogues are witty and fun.
” ..I just sell sound-imaging machines to doctors and hospitals…I’m Brian Corey.” “Pleased to meet you. I’m Marsha.” “No last name?” “Corey. I’m going to be Marsha Corey, right?”
“The life she had constructed for herself was good. But this evening with Joe Pitt was better.”
Joe Pitt is cool, a private detective, hired to find a murderess who is getting better and better and a good match for the serious homicide detective on the case, Catherine Hobbes.
A smart, well crafted and engaging crime novel.
Good mystery full of thoroughly unlovable characters. Homeless hearthless ones: kitchenless characters. Unemployed clerk comes back to poor Florida town to find half-dead aunt. She putts about in the Florida panhandle asking questions and discovering bad neighbors and bad morals.
A wealthy society housewife discovers that her husband is having an affair during a dinner party. She leaves the marriage and with a little help from her friends loves other men, makes her own money, and succeeds. Hmm.
This mystery series will fascinate those who fancy antiques, collectors and others who are obsessed with old, rare, useless or lovable objects. An antiques picker married to an agoraphobic chef, Jeff Talbot lives in a Victorian dollhouse in Seattle and uses his ex-FBI skills to solve curious homicides.