I'm still slogging through the pile of books I've recently read. Dividing them by sub-genre seemed like a good idea, so today, I've got some cozies for you. I've notice a pattern. I find myself drawn to mysteries written in the 90s and earlier 21st century. If you want the book, click on the image to go to Amazon. Note that I use affiliate links to defray the cost of this website. (At no additional cost to you.)
The cover on Amazon is different than my cover. Don't let that fool you. It's the same book. Lacey Smithsonian is a reporter who has been relagated to the fashion beat. The last woman to hold this job died at her desk. And nobody noticed. Fortunately for Lacey, crime clings to her like static clings to silk. These are fun mysteries with a widening cast of quirky characters you'll enjoy following.
I'm notorious for not reading series books in order. I can't remember which Lucy Smithsonian I read first, but I enjoyed them both. Lucy investigates the death of a misfit socialite who reminded me of Marilyn Monroe. Both beautiful and kinda sad. I like the way the author layered the ex-husbnad character. You assume he's a jerk, but then you're not sure. He isn't black-and-white. Kind of like most people.
The story takes place just after the crash of 1929. Siblings Lily and Robert Brewster, living near the edge of poverty, are bequeathed a mansion by an uncle they barely knew. There's a stipulation. They must live there for ten years. While cautiously celebrating their good fortune, Lily and Robert discover their uncle may not have passed out of this world without help. This is a slower-paced, solid mystery that's sweet. (Except for the deaths.)
Again, the Amazon cover is different than my cover, seen above. It's blurry because I had to resize it to match, but I promise you that is an embalmed corpse in the hammock outside. Advertising copywriter Leigh Koslow gets some excitement before her 30th birthday. An embalmed corpse deposited outside her cousin's home. This mystery kept me guessing. A bit farcical and fun.
