So here's the deal. This week I only read four books due to the fact that I quit smoking and I have had to remain almost manically busy in order to keep from going insane with desire for a cigarette. The bad part of all this is that I don't really have a decent recommendation this week.
I read the latest Molly Murphy mystery by Rhys Bowen, The Last Illusion and Charles Todd's A Fearsome Doubt. Both were enjoyable. Neither one is the author's best effort. I also read a completely formulaic remake of Pygmalion called The Overnight Socialite.
Nothing was inspiring. I'm going to have to choose the Todd if only because the writing and characterization is outstanding.
1 comment:
Why don't you write a murder mystery? You've read so many of them it shouldn't be hard. Pick a historical era you like, bump somebody off, create a detective, throw in a love story, and voila! Trash on the Moors, or whatever, by Punkinsmom.
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