A couple of things I can't include here yet, a beta read and a blog tour read, but here's the rest!
James Andrew, The Body Under the Sands (The Yorkshire Murders, Vol.1):
Rather a depressing start, with two young lads, one injured during the war,
looking for a bit of fun and female companionship in a seaside town and ending
up charged with the murder of a visiting woman. It’s an odd book, with
undeveloped, damaged characters who all have their memories of the trenches, or
of naval conflict. There’s some perception of society at the time, the
pressures on maids and ex-soldiers and landladies. The police have a minimal
part to play here, and we finally discover the identity of the killer with a
look through their eyes at the end. It was not a quick and easy read: I have
the first four in the series and will see what the next one is like.
Louise Penny, The Madness of Crowds: I don’t think I’m reading these in order,
but it doesn’t really matter – one can pick up bits of the overarching plot as
required. This is set in a post Covid Three Pines and that situation is taken a
step further forward – an academic is promoting the idea of helping the
stricken healthcare system by mandatory euthanasia, not just of the old and
sick, but also of any child with birth defects. As usual, this is a thought-provoking and sensitive book, and the setting is as lovely as ever.
Marsali Taylor, The Shetland Sea Murders: The action, to a great extent,
takes place on Foula, a tiny island in the archipelago with a community that is
both close-knit and mobile, living, in some cases, half their lives elsewhere.
I very much enjoyed the insight into this place and the resultant locked-room
mystery, in the company of Cass and Gavin as usual.
With this as with the previous book in the series, politics seem to be creeping
in – not in a bad way, but more so than before.
J.D. Kirk, Southpaw: The second Hoon book, as raucous as before and very
funny but not at all without emotion, carefully handled. I still prefer the
camaraderie of the Logan books, as well as the Scottish setting, but these are
very entertaining.
Jason Monaghan, Darkness Rises: Apparently I bought this over a year ago
and had no recollection of it. That’s the trouble with Kindle – with a real
book I could glance at the back and remind myself, but with this I had only the
front cover to go on and I don’t think it really conveys the nature of the
book, which is a missing girl mystery investigated by an archaeologist and a
reporter. These seem to have been written back in the eighties which is amusing
in itself, as the reader tries to place the technology and indeed the social
mores. I felt it was a slow book in some ways and yet there’s a good deal of action,
and I looked forward to coming back to it each time. The lead characters are
fairly sympathetic. There is, I should warn people, the violent death of a dog,
but it was somewhere between self-defence and a mercy killing – not nice, but
it sort of made sense. And though we see some of the villains’ activities, we’re
strung along very competently, or I was, anyway.
Nicola Clifford, The Consortium: We’re back in the Welsh mountains with
Stacey and Ben, and unfortunately some of the more unconvincing aspects of the
first book carry on here – not least the arrival, in seconds, of an ambulance
in the back of beyond, and its immediate departure without any attempt to
stabilise the patient for a long and bumpy journey. The indiscretions of the
police are a bit disheartening, as are the indiscretions of members of the
press. The setting is still lovely and the plot is pacy, but a little
two-dimensional – or I could just be tired.
Murder by the Book: mysteries for bibliophiles, ed. Martin Edwards: A
good selection of mostly golden age fiction here, some very well known writers
(Michael Innes, Ngaio Marsh) and some barely remembered. The tenuous connexion
is books and writing, but that really doesn’t matter. Edwards has contributed
nice little introductions to each story which really do enhance the collection.
Elly Griffiths, The Locked Room: It’s very strange to read this book set
just before and into the first lockdown in the U.K. It’s always a little odd to
find oneself reading something set in a history with which one is familiar, but
this, just like the times we lived through then, is weird, and in some ways
touching and in others nostalgic. The
quiet streets, the pre-Zoom days, the silent supermarket queues – well,
strange. The plot is of course excellent and the continued character development
is perfect. What next, though? And more of Whittaker, please!
And an update on what I'm doing ... The Contentious Business of Samuel Seabury is with a final reader and will, I hope, make an appearance during the autumn.
Murray 13, Shroud for a Sinner, is four-fifths drafted! At the moment it's looking as if it might come out before Samuel Seabury, but one never knows.
