This week I read one and a half books. I'm not sure about claiming such a paltry accomplishment, but I suppose the truth will out. Because of this, the winner is in fact the only one that was completed, G.M. Malliet's
Wicked Autumn. This was billed as a tongue-in-cheek cozy mystery, so I was hoping for a loving send-up of the genre. It is not.
It does however, deliver on the quintessential checklist of cozy mystery necessities:
- charming vicar
- harvest faire
- thatched-cottage village
- manor house
- hateful murder victim
- overabundance of suspects
I was, by the fifth chapter, in which it becomes crystalline clear who the victim is to be, hoping that the book would spoof itself and no one would be killed. Unfortunately, it follows the formula to a T. Still, it was fun enough.
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