Review: "Cookie Dough or Die" (2011)

"I'm surprised you're not fat," Olivia teased her brother.

"I'm surprised you're not in jail," Jason said, just before forcing another half of a sandwich into his mouth.

Synopsis: Niche cookie-cutter boutique becomes ground zero for an all-family squabble over inheritance, past sins and murder -- yes, murder. Bonus points for the canine sidekick, no matter what the health department would say.

Grade: B+

I confess, I usually eschew niche cozies that don't involve food. Call me crazy, call me focused, but there are so many culinary mysteries out there to read that I need some sort of focus in order to not be buried under an avalanche of books that need reading. Not that they don't all need reading.

I picked this book up, though, based on the title and cover. Admit it: Cookie Dough or Die is a fantastic title. And then once I started reading, I was hooked. And there's a dog in it.

Olivia Greyson owns The Gingerbread House, a cookie cutter boutique somewhere in or near Maryland, with her best friend Maddie and her rescue dog, Spunky. When her mentor Clarisse is found dead, Olivia's thrown for a loop, and even more so when it turns out to be murder. When it turns out Clarisse left Olivia a hoard of antique cookie-cutters, she basically does a loop-de-loop. But the murderer really wants the secrets kept, their identity never found and oh yeah, all the cookie cutters back.

Very smooth and enjoyable writing. Great quirky characters -- Maddie, the best friend is flighty and sparkly, Olivia's interesting, her love interest, the sheriff, is not obnoxious in the least, and Spunky basically steals the show.

Lowell does a ton of things right in this book: even though Olivia decides to solve the mystery, she never forgets that she has a business to run and a dog to walk, and she prioritizes those well. She has a great support network in Maddie and her mom, but the flow of the story remains well-anchored to the idea that the mystery-solving protagonist is first and foremost a small business owner.

Loved the rest of the townspeople, especially the very terrible newspaper editor, loved the crazy family. It was a little hard to believe the sheriff went along with Olivia's plans for confronting the murderer, but I guess love makes people do strange things.

Will definitely be continuing on with the series.

oh honey honey I'm telling you -- a woman's work is never done

Andrew’s eyes followed a single drop of water rolling toward her cleavage.

She said, “You know how I got like this?”

“What do you mean?”

She caressed his forearm with electric blue fingernails. He trembled. “Don’t be so polite. You know what I mean. How I lost weight. How I got hot. You remember those nicknames they called me, right? Lard Ass and Rosie O and The Beached Whale –”

“They shouldn’t have –”

“Done that. I know, but I don’t care. It’s all in the past cause of Mom.

Fucked up, feminine and awesome: Skinny Latte, a short story by Chris Rhatigan, over at Shotgun Honey.

There's always some small scrap left in the least likely place

Nothing in the world tasted as good for breakfast as stolen rolls with some butter and jam and a mug of milky coffee. Nothing tasted better than a venial sin.

--Ian Rankin, Knots and Crosses

Review: "The Teaberry Strangler" (2010)

"Do you know anything about the language of roses?"

"What do you mean?" asked Theodosia.

"During the Victorian era," said Drayton, "the use of rose symbolism was extremely popular. It became a subtle form of communication."

"Like text messaging today," said Theodosia.

"Not exactly," said Drayton.

Synopsis: The indefatigable Theodosia Browning continues to run her merry crew of teashop irregulars and solve murders all over Charleston's historic shopping district. This time it's Daria, owner of an antique map store, who turns up dead and Theodosia's unlucky enough to witness the crime. So, between running her teashop, hanging out with her dog and trying to close on her new cottage, Theodosia solves the crime.

Grade: C+

Okay people, listen up: I am willing to put up good money for one of the next books in this series to feature Delaine Dash (owner of the Cotton Duck!) as the corpse. Good money. I just can't remember a character who got under my skin like she does. It's amazing. I just...she... flames...on the side of my face...burning--heaving--

Oh this is such a good series, people. It just is. I would have tea at that teashop in an instant, no matter if they were brewing Darjeeling in a dead man's open skull when I got there. The books are just that fun.

It is all about the sense of place, I think, that Childs gives to this series that makes me love it so much. I was trying, the other day, to think of mystery series where I can't think of the series without immediately thinking of the city. Like for me, Sharon McCone will always be San Francisco. And V.I. Warshawski will always be Chicago; Tess Monaghan is Baltimore, the Liquor boys are New Orleans, Archy McNally is Palm Beach and NYC is sort of in a three-way toss-up between the 87th precinct, Claire Cosi and Edward X. Delaney. In exactly the same way, Theodosia Browning is Charleston.

It's a great, iconic series.

But this is not a great, iconic book. It's a good book. It's a solid entry in the series and with a lot of the plot strands, I felt like Childs has a beautiful long sheet of butcher paper tacked up along one wall of her house with all these interwoven strands and Teaberry Strangler is one section, and the next book is another, and there are certain dots that have to advance in certain ways.

For instance, the reintroduction of Jorie Davis, who, while an unfortunate romantic choice (I keep wanting Drayton to pour hot tea in his lap) also keeps things interesting much more than the milquetoast restauranteur Theodosia took up with on the rebound. And the way Theodosia kept wistfully saying "Oh Haley, I do so hope I won't LOSE YOU SOMEDAY WHEN A BIG CATERING OPPORTUNITY COMES ALONG."

Seriously, she said it like four times. Hi. Thanks. I think we now safely know what you've got planned for Haley. Gotcha. Right there with ya. Keep going with the story.

And I liked the story. I liked the cast of weirdos surrounding the victim, and I liked how they were more than they seemed, some of them. I loved how Theodosia gets her big girl heels on whenever someone intends to hurt her dog, because if anyone ever comes after my dogs, you will be able to buy jars of that person as a paste in supermarkets everywhere, I'll tell you that right now.

But two things went wrong here:

1. Okay. No less than five different people were all OH THEODOSIA PLEASE SOLVE THIS MYSTERY YOU ARE SO AWESOME. And then Theodosia blushed and simpered. That is Mary Sue territory. I do not like that. I am not saying Theodosia was a Mary Sue this time out, I'm just saying we can all see that land from here and it's not a good place.

2. The ending. OY the ending. Was not supported by the plot in the least. Noooooo. I went back and looked for clues I'd missed, people, because I spell anal-retentive with a hyphen. It did not make the least sense at all, and took like eight pages from boss fight to glass-clinking resolution and then fin. Like, if you stand up from a fistfight, wipe your hands on a linen napkin then serve punch for guests, I'm sorry, but you're the Cylon. It's you.

Bah.

And humbug.

Which in no way means I'm not going to read the next entry in the series, it just means that if you have a really strong, iconic series -- and I do think it's fair to say this series is iconic at this point -- you can get away with a fair amount of missteps. Just not often.

Review: "If You Can't Stand the Heat" (2011)

I hate favors. I hate doing them and I hate asking for them. They always sound so quick and innocent at first. A favor. Like a squeeze. But favors replicate, taking on a life of their own. Lending a hand in the kitchen for a few hours turns into a murder investigation, and then one night your house is set on fire. But how could I refuse after what they had done for me?

Synopsis: Poppy Markham caused a rift in her family when she left their Austin restaurant to become a health department inspector. But when a famous French chef is murdered at Markham's, Poppy hurls herself into the investigation. Joined by her hunky ex-boyfriend and her gay neighbors, Poppy squares off against a murderer. And her stepmother. And her stepsister. And the restaurant's general manager. And the sous chef. And...

Grade: B

Poppy Markham is an incredibly likeable amateur detective even when she's being wishy-washy about her ex-boyfriend, Jamie, and obstinate about her stepmother's effect on her father. This is no mean feat. And it's obvious the author has served her time on the line in many, many restaurants, and is very familiar with Austin. These are all good things for this book.

In fact, 3/4 of this book is great fun: light, frothy, funny, snappy and well-written.

And then there's the ending.

Look, I get that endings are hard, and this one actually made a great deal of logical sense; all the pieces in the story fell together and it was completely plausible. So what happened?

Two things. One, the fight with the murderer at the end. It was short and the murderer folded with one well-placed blow by a small health inspector and then the next thing you know, we're having the tearful family reunion at papa's bedside, where he explains everything (conveniently glossing over the ramifications of the solution, which were huge), then everyone hugs, even the people who were at each other's throats for most of the book.

I was like...that's it? I read 230 pages of a great mystery and you just Scooby-Doo'ed me?

Two? Hannah Swensen Syndrome. You heard me, I've now seen it so often in cozies, I'm giving it a name. After The Cookie Jar's own legendary crime-solving absent boss, it's when an amateur detective gets so caught up in solving a mystery that they forget where they work, and the author forgets, too.

Apparently Poppy Markham is a health department inspector who inspects restaurants, so maybe during the book at some point she should...inspect restaurants. She inspected a grand total of one, even though there's a scene where she mentions she's exhausted but has to go check on whether to issue a closing at a restaurant across town; she goes so far as to put the coffee on so she can stay awake for just that, then ...Poppy wakes up the next morning bright and early and makes no mention of whether she did the inspection.

This problem's made worse by the early introduction of Poppy's boss Olive, who we're told is incredibly controlling and micro-managing and calls Poppy at all hours, and then is never heard from again.

Do you know? If I just didn't go to work for a couple days, like three or four, with no explanation, I would definitely hear from my boss, and he's not in the least micro-managing and controlling. So what gives?

With those minor problems aside, it's still a great read, for the most part and I'm very much hoping that there'll be a sequel. The whole concept of the health inspector as detective really gives and gives, so here's to hoping for the next go round, the next person to find a body at a restaurant actually records an infraction or two.

Too many mysteries with sharp pointy things

I love this book and this idea, but it probably says something about how many murder mysteries I've read that I totally just concocted a murder where the body's found with these things jammed in the eye sockets.

Review: "Biggie and the Mangled Mortician" (1997)

"Her colors," Mrs Muckleroy said. "I took her over to this woman in Center Point that does your colors for only ten bucks. Meredith Michelle's a perfect Spring -- and Bunny, that's the woman's name, said that's real rare. She said only about fifteen percent of the women in the whole world are Springs. The majority are Summers and Autumns, That's why Meredith Michelle's going to look so splendid in that blue dress I bought her."

"Essie, you need to get back on your nerve medicine," Biggie said.

Synopsis: Texas grandma fights crime and big hair mentality. As told by her 12-year-old son, J.R.

Grade: A+

There's really nothing I don't love about the Biggie Weatherford mysteries, apart from the fact that as far as I can tell there are only five of them. I don't love that bit at all. If it were up to me, that number would have a zero after it.

Job's Crossing, TX, is one of those very very small towns where everyone takes a special delight in getting all up in each other's business and then busting out their family lineage when anyone complains. There are the beautician sisters, Itha and Vida Mae Boggs; the town ne'er-do-well, Cooter McNutt; Butch Jenkins, possibly the only acting sheriff in Texas who chases criminals in three-inch heels; and Biggie Weatherford, a no nonsense philanthropist and grandma to 12-year-old J.R. There's also lots of Dr. Pepper. It's just that kind of place.

In the second book in the series, Job's Crossing's undertaker just up and leaves for Houston, where everyone kills each other with much more regularity, and his replacement causes Itha to fall down in a swoon before he gets his ribs stove in in his own mortuary. Also, Meredith Michelle has her colors read prior to the Texarkana pageant, the new reverend (from Arkansas) gets twitchy around rats, there's a bigfootlike monster prowling the woods along Wooten Creek and Biggie's not letting any of the above stop her from raising the money to turn the old unused depot into a museum, commemorating the time Ma Parker and her boys blew through town and were unfailingly polite to everyone.

I read this book in a day. It was my day off, and I sat on the back steps with a cup of coffee and listened to the springtime, watched my dogs play in the dirt and enjoyed the heck out of this read.

Sure there's a mystery to be solved, but it's largely beside the point, which is how, incidentally, the author treats the story for about fifty pages in the middle. And I don't care. I love Job's Crossing and I loved this whole warm, sunny, Dr. Pepper-soaked story.

There's one recipe included at the back, for an oyster-flavored scrambled eggs (which doesn't really float my boat) but the book is filled to busting with lush and evocative descriptions of all the wonderful things Biggie's cook, Willie Mae, prepares for them day in and day out: devil's food cake with coconut frosting; cold boiled ham with potato salad and fresh biscuits; orange peppers stuffed with ground veal and rice; icebox rolls with butter.

At its heart, this is a story about building a chosen family and embracing your own small community, even when it perms your hair sideways (on account of shock) or breaks its heel running after bad guys across a parking lot (Butch).

Now excuse me while I hie to ebay to find the three missing from my collection.