A marvelous parody of reality TV shows—think especially of Love Island—mashed up with traditional mysteries, if traditional mysteries include lots of fake sex, along with fake hair and teeth. When one cast member disappears from the super-successful, super-sleazy show Sex Island, the producers need to bring on someone else as a replacement ASAP. Staten Island native Luella van Horn is quickly hired as a two-fer, to join the show as a new contestant and in the meantime solve the case of the missing cast member. Except Luella is really a divorced former social worker from Staten Island named Marie Jones, who aspires to be a private eye and whose past is pretty inept, if incredibly humorous. But as the story grows darker, Marie finds herself trying to get out of a situation that is becoming riskier by the hour. First released as a self-published novel, this book was quickly embraced by comedian Jo Firestone’s many fans. While I haven’t heard it, the audio version, narrated by Firestone herself, is hugely popular.
Humorous
Zorie and Kayla, best friends since third grade, work as house cleaners in a so-so hotel, a position that allows them to engage in a bit of light stealing but not enough to keep them afloat. Which is how the two get involved in crashing weddings where they can pick up some major hauls (steal the money and pawn the goods) while not knowing a soul. Until one weekend they head off to work a rural wedding that they promise each other will be their last gig (“best friend’s honor” is their motto), only to discover that they are the only two Black women at an antebellum-themed wedding. Heading out of town as fast as they can, they are involved in an accident that sends them into temporary hiding as the news blares forth the story of the “Wedding Crash Killers.” Without any support from family, and no friends that can help, things start to escalate and the two head to New Orleans, leaving a trail of blood and bodies in their wake. Zorie and Kayla are forced to make tough decisions about their future and their friendship in this brilliant depiction of two young women who can barely keep alive financially. Completely compelling, full of dark humor, and providing a deep investigation into the nature of friendship, this book is high on my list for book discussions.
A strange discovery in an Air and Space Museum makes the scientists in Scalzi’s (Starter Villian, 2023) latest think a theft has occurred: a moonrock on exhibit is switched with something that appears soft and squishy. When scientists and astronomers realize the moon has somehow grown in size, but the mass is the same, the truth dawns on them. The moon itself is no longer made of rock, but of cheese. Scalzi takes this absurd scenario and showcases the various related people and occupations to highlight how a cheese moon would affect the world. Scientists can’t explain it. Conspiracy theorists see this as proof that man never landed on the moon. Astronauts scheduled for a lunar landing must now scrap their plans, and even cheese-shop owners have their hands full, given the increased interest in their products. Factor in global complications with possible changing tidal patterns and the religious aspects with questioning if God somehow made this happen, and, no surprise, chaos reigns. If you are ever curious whether drowning by cheese is worse than drowning by molasses, this book is perfect. Scalzi’s trademark humor and a genuinely baffling puzzle keep the pages turning. This fun, engaging read is perfect for these tumultuous times.
Three women, who couldn’t be more different, come together over a man—known as Zander, Zachary, Xavier and more—whom they hate a great deal and love, perhaps, just a little. Marina is a former chef, now a full-time mom, who’s recently divorced and quite broke, but is enjoying rediscovering love with Xavier. Lilah is a withdrawn librarian who wins the lottery—literally. With funds pouring into her account, and falling in love with a man who is now her fiancé, Xavier, life couldn’t get any better. Then there’s Opal, the oldest of the trinity and a well-known health guru whose history with Xavier—confidence man, liar, thief, and lover—extends back the farthest. How the three women come together, and slowly learn to trust one another, is an absolute delight. But what to do with Xavier, currently a hostage in Marina’s basement, is even more of a laugh riot. Until it isn’t, and the book takes a very dark turn indeed. For all who loved Cohen’s Bad Men and Robert Thorogood’s The Marlow Club Murder.
It’s dark. It’s humorous. And everything about it is completely unexpected. Dolores dela Cruz has been on the lookout for a serial killer, and Jake Ripper fits the bill. A temp in her office, Jake is charming, handsome, and in possession of a pair of classic “strangler gloves.” What more can you ask for? Jake, meanwhile, is smitten with his mysterious colleague, from her severe wardrobe to the abuse she occasionally dumps on him. Slowly, the relationship between the two morphs into a morbidly intense but weirdly romantic obsession. The dialogue—a good part of the pleasure this book offers—runs from full-on snark to flirtatious banter. And while there are plenty of those head-swiveling moments suspense readers love, more shocking is the tenderness that grows between the two. Are we dealing with real murderers here, or do some serial killers just want to have a little fun? Weird enough to appeal to a broad swath of crime fiction readers.
She ain’t lying! All the moms do hate her. Because Florence Grimes is quite the unrepentant good-time girl who gets all the side-eye from the moms and smirks from the dads. She has a collection of lovers that’s like a deck of cards. Her get-ups are designed to provoke, at the very least. And her last, and only, job—years ago—was in a girl band that ended in humiliation. The one ray of light is her ten-year-old son, Dylan, who is a radical environmentalist and attends a fancy London all-boys school. But when Alfie Risby, Dylan’s bully and heir to a frozen-food empire, suddenly disappears during a class trip, and Dylan is the prime suspect, Flo starts to wake up and realizes that she is the only one that can save Dylan. Rich in satire, hugely funny, with a running wink-wink to the reader, this novel is pure comedic gold.
Middle-aged, mid-divorce (although she is still in love with her husband), and mid-pregnancy, Kathy Valence is a no-nonsense, shoot-from-the-hip type of character. She keeps busy working for S.C.Y.T.H.E. (Secure Collection, Yielding, and Transportation of Human Essences), helping transport the souls of the recently departed on to their next phase, until the soul of one of her clients, hip and happening 17-year-old DJ Conner, gets misplaced. Conner insists he was murdered by someone at S.C.Y.T.H.E., and that it is up to Kathy to track down the murderer and find Conner’s soul. All within forty-five days, or else he’ll become a ghost, destined to wander the Earth (no pressure!). What’s so lovely here are the overlapping needs of the characters. Kathy, whose fears and anxieties hold her back from accepting love. Simone, Kathy’s husband, whose only desire is to be allowed to love Kathy and their baby. And Conner, who wants to identify his murderer, be saved by Kathy, and find the love he missed on Earth. Poignant and pleasing, this successful supernatural mystery will long be remembered.
Here’s a trend out of the U.K.: fun-loving, female serial killers. From doing away with the relatives (Mackie’s How to Kill Your Family) to offing abusive husbands (Casale’s The Best Way to Bury Your Husband) British women are ignoring old school, female solutions like poison or a tumble down the staircase and packing some heat, or, in the case of You’d Look Better as a Ghost, relying on a hammer to the back of the head. Claire, our serial killer and hero, is always planning her next kill, typically of someone who crossed her, starting back in childhood with her murder of her mother, who made Joan Crawford seem like Mother Theresa. Today the 30ish Claire is mourning (a real emotion!) her father’s death, while plotting the murder of Lucas, an arts administrator who rejected one of her paintings. But no sooner is Lucas diced and planted in the back garden—it makes you think twice about the Chelsea Flower Show—when one of the ladies in Claire’s weekly bereavement group let’s on that she knows all about Claire’s special hobby, and if she wants to live, Claire has to give in to blackmail. Is threatening a part-time, but highly successful, serial killer ever a good idea? That would be no. Witty and sophisticated, funny and fast-paced, this dark masterpiece is pure pleasure.
It’s early into lockdown in the UK, and Sally can’t take any more physical and psychological abuse from her husband—thankfully the kids are grown and out of the house. So she does the only thing she can do: she fights back, smashing him on the head with her iron skillet. But killing is the easy part. It’s disposing of the body that’s the challenge. Fortunately, Sally soon discovers that she’s not the only woman in the neighborhood with a husband rotting away in the basement, packed in cat litter (did you know? It absorbs both odors and fluids). Slowly, these women come together and create quite the self-help group, dubbed the Lockdown Ladies’ Burial Club, which is tasked with disposing of four bodies…and getting away with it. As impossible as this may seem—these women aren’t exactly hooked up with organized crime—they revel in their newly created freedom, gaining the strength to take on seemingly any challenge. As Sally says, “For too long I let a small man steal my joy and potential.” What’s remarkable is how Casale—with a decade of experience in the field of male violence against women—succeeds at moving between the women’s experiences with domestic violence in the past and the dark humor of their present situation, tacitly giving us permission to laugh at times. Well-written with plenty of surprises, twists, and turns to keep readers engrossed. Pair it with Bella Mackie’s How to Kill your Family.
This book could just as well be titled When the HOA Attacks or Ring Cameras on Steroids: A How-To. Oleander Court, a street in ritzy Alpharetta, GA, has it all. The fountain with $500 apiece koi, the perfectly maintained lawns (did I mention that HOA?), the perfectly Botoxed neighbors. But a few residents keep things from being too plastic. An artist, Helen Beecham, has moved in and while she likes to observe the others, she’s doesn’t love their snooty book clubs (at which the book is never mentioned) or other tortuous gatherings. A Korean American family, the Jungs, lives on Oleander, too, amid nasty comments; one neighbor in particular spreads the rumor that the mother barely speaks English, only Chinese. Lesbian couple Ray and Laura are hiding their rocky marriage and past secrets. And then there’s Adelaide, who formerly lived in a trailer park but is now married to a doctor and struggling to feel she belongs. Closed circle meets cozy when the nastier neighbors start getting bumped off in their homes, but with little attendant grisliness and dollops of dark humor. Come for the bitchiness, stay for the deep characterization of the oddball characters as well as the puzzling whodunit.
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