I so very much wanted to love this book. It had everything--antiques, old houses, loving friends, and a mystery that was easy to understand, complicated to ferry out. And a heroine who wasn't afraid to use unusual household objects as weapons in a pinch.
But the story dragged, dragged, dragged. At times I thought she was writing for an audience of five-year-olds. And the heroine, a supposed lover of mystery novels, was so very very clueless. She agonized for pages over how to get started--when she had the murder location and the personal property of the murder victim right under her fingertips and at her sole control. Duh! How about, uh...searching the house, stupid?
Part of my problem was the audiobook format. Now that the reader did anything wrong, at all. She was great. But her problem was that she had to read every word--and there were way too many words. She (the heroine) agonized over every little detail...except the ones which were so very obviously important.
And for crying out loud, when you get hold of an important document that clearly holds a clue to the mystery, you don't simply make a couple of copies, hide them, and email one to yourself! You already suspect that the murderer is out to get you, so if you happen to be next, couldn't you leave one somewhere for the police to find? If you can make two copies, why not five? Or why not mail one to yourself...or the police?
So as you see, I disliked/liked this book and it clearly made me scream. Still, I'm thinking I might risk a paper copy of a sequel. But no more audio.
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