An accomplished master of mystery with 46 published books, Carolyn Hart is the creator of the highly acclaimed Henrie O,Death on Demand, and Bailey Ruth Raeburn series. Her books have won multiple Agatha, Anthony, and Macavity Awards. Letter from Home (2003), her standalone mystery set in Oklahoma, was nominated for the Pulitzer Prize. Her latest book is Dead by Midnight (William Morrow/HarperCollins, 2007). She is one of the founders of Sisters in Crime, an organization for women who write mysteries. She lives in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma." New Books: Dead By Midnight Carolyn Hart
DEAD BY MIDNIGHT by Carolyn Hart On Sale March 29
The police say suicide. Annie Darling suspects murder. Max is unconvinced until Annie follows a trail behind the dead woman's house.
Annie unravels the mystery of a towel hidden at midnight in a gazebo, the interesting lack of fingerprints on a crystal mug, blood on a teenager's blue shirt, and the secret of a lovers' tryst. Max plunges deep into the woods to find incriminating evidence.
Annie sets the perfect trap for a merciless killer, but her cell phone rings and Death is on the line.
I love to have fun when writing a mystery. If I laugh, I think a reader will laugh. In the Death on Demand series, I especially enjoy writing about Annie Darling's ditzy mother-in-law, Laurel Roethke. Laurel is usually excited about a new interest, something that surprises and often confounds Annie.
In Dead by Midnight, Laurel creates Cat Truth Posters, which she wants Annie to hang in the bookstore. Annie thinks books should be the store's focus, but the posters enchant her.
Each poster features a cat's photograph with a caption. Here are three of the Cat Truth posters;
. . . a silky furred, mitted, and bicolored Ragdoll stretched out on a red silk cushion, looking as comfy as Eva Longoria in a Hanes ad: Go with the Flow.
A rectangular-muzzled, green-eyed, cholocolate colored cat appeared as brooding as a Gothic hero: Always Say Yes to Adventure.
. . . a thick-furred, piebald Siberian forest cat, its white front a brilliant contrast to a charcoal back and head. Its face appeared almost angelic: Always try a Smile First.
Four mini mysteries from four cozy writers. This was my first time reading anything by these authors.
Dial M for Mom by Mary Daheim ***** Judith McMonigle Flynn's Cousin Renie prepares for her children's weddings. All three taking place on the same day, the day before Mother's Day! Along with the craziness that comes with the weddings, there is a death and a mystery man sneaking around showing up in photos. I liked wondering about the mystery man. By the end, I was crying with joy. Wonderful story. I will read more by Mary Daheim.
Mothers Must Do by Carolyn Hart ** I did NOT like reading this one. I'm glad it wasn't the first story in the book or I wouldn't have read the others. I couldn't stand the main character, Annie Darling's mother-in-law, Laurel. Her thoughts went on and on about stuff that didn't have anything to do with anything (and kept telling herself to 'focus'). She calls everyone and their dog, Dear So-and-So, which is super annoying. She is so full of herself. And stupid. I spent the first half of the story rolling my eyes and yelling at how stupid she is. ~Let's see what I learned from Laurel... #1-If you watch a few episodes of Law and Order and read mysteries, you are an expert in crimes. Including covering up and solving them. #2-If an officer shows up to ask you some questions, bombard him with nonsensical babbling so that he might forget why he is there in the first place. #3-It's perfectly fine to mess with evidence and crime scenes as long as you have a good reason. After all, the police couldn't possibly solve a crime as well as you can. (See #1.) So you better throw them off track so that they don't get in your way.~ The story had way too many awkward sentences that I had to read more than once just to get the point. There was also a part in the middle of a paragraph where a section must have been deleted during revising and not cleaned up. Someone was talking. Then there were quotes which led me to believe that the speaker was done. But, no. He was starting again and it didn't make sense. What happened in between? I don't think I will read any more by Carolyn Hart.
The Proof Is in the Patch by Jane Isenberg **** Professor Bel Barrett tries her hand at nannying while trying to solve the murder of the previous nanny who was her student. The title doesn't have anything to do with the mystery, just that Bel wears an estrogen patch. ...Unless I missed something... I liked this story.
Tomcat by Shirley Rousseau Murphy * I hated this story! For starters, it took me a while to get used to the terrible southern language. Here is a little sample: "Those young'uns was more'n a handful..." "I'm a growed woman..." "...he might could have only acted like he was a-lookin'..." And it's like that through the whole thing. Awful!! It was a dumb story about dumb hicks. With cellphones!?! The cats were smarter than everyone. And I don't like cats.
Four mysteries about a hundred pages each are in this book. Each is different although each centers on a mother. The first story ends with an unexpected twist as the mother tries to survive three weddings for her three children all on one day. The second story is filled with complications each of which are set off by an action taken with good intentions as one mother attempts to help another mother rescue her daughter and grandson. The third story has a mother/grandmother going undercover to solve the murder of a favorite student. The fourth story pulls you into the fear and dread as a friend of the mother disappears. Then another woman their age disappears. She doesn't intend to get involved but she must help another friend get that old tomcat fixed. And the friend gets involved. These are cozy mysteries. They are enjoyable and keep you reading to the end of each.
I don't know why I pick up these novella collections when they make their way to the bargain bin. There is always one author that I like that leads me to pick up the book. The story by that author is generally the only one that isn't terrible and is often not nearly as good as the other books by that other. This collection should have been called Mom's are Martyrs. The first three stories are gag-worthy. The perfect mom makes sure her kids are taken care of, the house is clean, her man is satisfied and solves a murder all while looking fabulous. I was really hoping one of the mom's got the axe by the end. If you are a fan of the Joe Grey novels that Rousseau is famous for, don't waste your time on this book. The cats are minor characters in a whiny mommy tale that ends in way too many people keeping their lives.
Dial M for Mom ** Boring and thinking back I don’t believe the author showed us anything, but ‘told’ the entire story, which probably led to it being so boring.
Mothers Must Do *** Fun read. Again, more telling than showing, but at least it wasn’t boring. Lots of twists.
The Proof is in the Patch **** Good story, thoroughly enjoyed the read. Unusual for me to give a short story four stars but this one is definitely worth it.
Tomcat **** Another good read and four stars for a short story. I wasn’t too sure when I started reading; I really like some of Ms. Rousseau Murphy’s books and don’t care for others. This was good and I had no idea who the bad guy was.
Mothers Must Do by Carolyn G. Hart is book 14.5 of the Death in Demand mystery series set on contemporary (fictional) Broward's Rock, South Carolina. This mystery is entirely Laurel's show. She discovers a body, cleverly moves it, establishes alibis for friends, deduces a killer (red herring), does research, identifies the killer, attempts to report it. Such fun. Fast paced action, all focused on Laurel, who "burbles" her way along, reminding herself to "Focus" as her son Max would say. Charming.
I used to be annoyed by Laurel's "burbling" (miniscule attention span, thoughts caroming off in all directions without limit) in the Death in Demand series, but now I find it amusing.
Fave Quotes:
Scoffers ((and it grieved her to suspect that her dear daughter-in-law Annie might be included in this number) would insist Laurel’s arrival was fortuitous. Laurel knew better. It was meant to be. Of course, she understood that Fate often needed a helping hand. Sometimes, in fact, it required a hard shove. Even a kick in the derrière. Laurel understood and accepted her charge.
She considered the pleasures of weddings. It was too bad all her children were now married.
Laurel held a rather unusual view of Mother’s Day: she saw the holiday as an opportunity for a mother to be thankful for her status, and how better to demonstrate thankfulness than a special, perfect, one-of-a-kind gift for each child, and by extension, to each spouse. That her approach might befuddle the world at large mattered not a whit to Laurel.
She was never one to ignore well-built men. They added so much pleasure to the world. Oh, the joys of baseball, manly men in tight pants.
where there was reluctance to speak, there was always and inevitably and without fail information the speaker passionately desired to hide
He was as unlike the popular conception of an artist as possible, burly, broad-faced with a short crew cut, thick lenses in heavy horn-rimmed glasses, stubby fingers on big hands.
“I can’t afford to pay what it’s worth, but I will pay whatever you ask.”
After all, as everyone knew, there could never be too many presents.
Motherhood is Murder features four short stories related to motherhood by Mary Daheim, Jane Isenberg, Carolyn Hart and Shirley Rousseau Murphy. An interesting collection. I especially enjoyed the tie ib to the Death on Demand series by Carolyn G. Hart and the book also introduced me to a new to me author Jane Isenberg whom I will look out for.
This collection of mystery novelettes by four well known writers of cozies are entertaining and satisfying, showing women's, in fact, mothers' points of view of life and death and villains and heroines. It helps to have read these writers, who use their known protagonists and histories, but not necessary to understand and enjoy each of these shorter mysteries.
I have an affinity for cozy mysteries. They generally aren't written in pursuit of a spot on the bestseller list; rather, cozies are written to give the reader a sense of comfort and calm (ironically, by way of murder).
My mom read cozies to escape her three eccentric young daughters and grumpy husband: one daughter, the artist, painted five-foot tall green flowers on the side of the freshly painted rental when she was four; the adventurous daughter asked which way north was, and was found by neighbors five hours later walking up the beach, wearing a backpack, in pursuit of Santa in the North Pole (we lived on an island--she wasn't the brightest of the three of us); and the oldest daughter (that would be I) caused her first-year kindergarten teacher to quit by demanding that all classroom toy soldiers and toy weapons be removed from the classroom so that her classmates would not become violent adults, and that the teacher immediately stop smoking on her breaks because she would surely die of lung cancer. As to my mother's husband, he had some strange notion that feeding 40 stray cats, a stray goat, a duck, and 4 turtles (not stray) out of a 2-bedroom apartment was odd. He also became irrationally upset when the cat gave birth in his shoe. So you see, for my mother, it was either read a cozy or drink (or possibly dispose of the children and husband).
Years later, when my grandmother came to live with us (bigger house, different country, revolving pet door, dad retired and usually lost in Best Buy, girls now goth, theater geek, and raver) we slowly replaced her true crime books with cozies in order to keep her from roaming the house at night after taking her pain pills, looking for the Son of Sam whilst armed with a shoe horn.
And all this is how I came to read cozies myself, because they were always there to help me escape my crazy family, you could carry on a screaming match with a sibling and not miss much in the book, and thanks to grandma's Dahmer intervention, there were always a shitload in the house. (Serious reading was done away from the insane people.)I have an affinity for cozy mysteries. They generally aren't written in pursuit of a spot on the bestseller list; rather, cozies are written to give the reader a sense of comfort and calm (ironically, by way of murder).
My mom read cozies to escape her three eccentric young daughters and grumpy husband: one daughter, the artist, painted five-foot tall green flowers on the side of the freshly painted rental when she was four; the adventurous daughter asked which way north was, and was found by neighbors five hours later walking up the beach, wearing a backpack, in pursuit of Santa in the North Pole (we lived on an island--she wasn't the brightest of the three of us); and the oldest daughter (that would be I) caused her first-year kindergarten teacher to quit by demanding that all classroom toy soldiers and toy weapons be removed from the classroom so that her classmates would not become violent adults, and that the teacher immediately stop smoking on her breaks because she would surely die of lung cancer. As to my mother's husband, he had some strange notion that feeding 40 stray cats, a stray goat, a duck, and 4 turtles (not stray) out of a 2-bedroom apartment was odd. He also became irrationally upset when the cat gave birth in his shoe. So you see, for my mother, it was either read a cozy or drink (or possibly dispose of the children and husband).
Years later, when my grandmother came to live with us (bigger house, different country, revolving pet door, dad retired and usually lost in Best Buy, girls now goth, theater geek, and raver) we slowly replaced her true crime books with cozies in order to keep her from roaming the house at night after taking her pain pills, looking for the Son of Sam whilst armed with a shoe horn.
And all this is how I came to read cozies myself, because they were always there to help me escape my crazy family, you could carry on a screaming match with a sibling and not miss much in the book, and thanks to grandma's Dahmer intervention, there were always a shitload in the house. (Serious reading was done away from the insane people.)
I only gave this 4 stars because of the last story, Tomcat, by Shirley Rousseau Murphy. It was the only story worth reading. The others, Dial M for Mom by Mary Daheim, Mother's Must Do by Carolyn Hart, and Proof is in the Patch by Jane Isenberg, were not all that good or interesting. I picked it up thinking I would enjoy other cozy mystery writers as well as Shirely Rousseau Murphy. The first three gets a *yawn* whereas the last one, Tomcat, gets the 4 stars.