Review: The Ghost and the Dead Deb by Alice Kimberly

The Ghost and the Dead Deb
The Ghost and the Dead Deb
Author: Alice Kimberly
Paperback: 272 pages
Publisher: Berkley (September 6, 2005)
Language: English

Penelope “Pen” McClure, co-owner of the fictional “Buy the Book” in Quindicott, RI, should really consider investing in some sort of business insurance, because in this second installment of the Haunted Bookshop series, another visiting author is murdered.

Alice Kimberly once again weaves a charming romance/mystery pairing Pen with Jack Shepherd, the ghost of a noir private investigator, who himself was gunned down in the store decades before. In this book, we learn a bit more about Pen, and, in the related case from Jack’s memory, we also learn a bit more about Jack.

Young deb-turned-author Angel Stark could easily be ripped by any number of today’s tabloids, but the recurring characters are also as vivid as they were in the first novel – especially the group of business owners affectionately referred to as the Quibblers (which name, I confess, reminds me of another fictional mystery series, Lilian Jackson Braun’s The Cat Who…).

What really makes this book sing, however, is the developing relationship between Pen and Jack – they’re clearly friends now – which is heightened when Pen finds a way to take Jack with her (so to speak) when she leaves the store.

Goes well with hot tea and a warm quilt.

Teaser Tuesdays: The Ghost and the Dead Man’s Library by Alice Kimberly

On Teaser Tuesdays readers are asked to:

  • Grab your current read.
  • Let the book fall open to a random page.
  • Share with us two (2) “teaser” sentences from that page, somewhere between 7 and 12 lines.
  • You also need to share the title of the book that you’re getting your “teaser” from … that way people can have some great book recommendations if they like the teaser you’ve given.

I’m not sure if having a live-in ghost is something that will remove the necessity of having good, cheap life insurance, but I do know that I’m really enjoying Alice Kimberly’s Haunted Bookshop series. It’s the relationship between Pen and Jack that has me inhaling these books, and also the fact that light reading is nice during the holidays.

In any case, here’s my teaser, from page 192 of book three, The Ghost and the Dead Man’s Library.

Picking a lock is an art. You can’t master it in a few minutes.

“So how do I get in?”

Break the window and turn the knob from the other side.

“Okay.” I raised the Maglite to smash the glass.

Not like that! Jack cried. With finesse. And real quiet like.

“How do you break a window quietly?”

I should note that in the above passage, lines in italics are the words of Jack, the ghost.

Review: The Ghost and Mrs. McClure by Alice Kimberly

The Ghost and Mrs. McClure
The Ghost and Mrs. McClure
by Alice Kimberly
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The Ghost and Mrs. McClureThe Ghost at Mrs. Muir and part homage to noir crime fiction, this book is a light mystery – nothing is terribly unpredictable, but the relationship between Jack and Pen makes it an interesting read, and keeps you coming back for more. Some of the best humor of the book comes from Jack’s reactions to modern technology – chat rooms on the internet are as cool to him as websites touting low cost health insurance would be to those looking for new policies.

I suspect future novels will see the Pen/Jack relationship deepening – as far as it’s possible when one half of the relationship is incorporeal, but that the basic premise will be maintained: He’s the ghost of a hard-boiled detective, she’s a widowed bookseller. Together, they fight crime.

Lost: One Book

I lost a book somewhere in my house.

Worse, I lost a book I promised to review, while I was in the middle of reading it. The book in question is Whom God Would Destroy, by Commander Pants, which I posted a teaser from sometime in the last month or so. It was really enjoying it, because it was making me think AND making me laugh – a combination which I generally cannot resist.

I have this horrible feeling it got slipped into a stack of shipping boxes (incoming, not outgoing) and is upstairs in the library, buried in a pile, but I looked, and don’t remember seeing it.

Speaking of boxes, however, I have found something to read in the meanwhile: The Ghost and Mrs. McClure, by Alice Kimberly. This is the first in Kimberly’s “Haunted Bookshop” series, and I know it will be good because I know that Alice Kimberly is also Cleo Coyle, who writes the Coffeehouse Mysteries I love so much.

I’m enjoying this book a lot, but I’d rather find the other, and finish it, before moving on entirely.

Surprises in the Mailbox

Today in my mailbox there was something I expected – an envelope containing the notebooks I’d ordered from Field Notes, in their new autumn colors, and a book: Dandelion: the Extraordinary Life of a Misfit.

I don’t remember if I agreed to review the book, or asked for it in some other fashion, but it’s signed by the author, one Sheelagh Mawe, and it looks delightful, and having just finished reading The Lost Symbol, by Dan Brown, it’s nice to look forward to something a bit less intense.

And yet, it’s also a total surprise, because while the title and author are striking a familiar chord with me, I’ve no idea where the book came from, other than, you know, FROM the author.

It’s the kind of book meant to be read by the light of a single soft sconce, while sipping tea, and after a day of barking dogs and giant vacuums, it’s just the kind of book I need.

Wednesday Salon

Technically this should be a Sunday Salon entry, but I slept through half of Sunday, and spent the other half cleaning, so I’m writing a chattery post now because I’m in the middle of half a dozen novels, but not done enough with any to write reviews…yet.

Lately, I’ve been in a mystery mood – everything from the kinds of novels where dead bodies are wrapped up in rugs, to the kinds of novels that are more about puzzles. I’m reading the Aurora Teagarden series, by Southern Vampire Mysteries author Charlaine Harris, but I’m re-reading Laurie R. King’s latest Holmes/Russell novel The Language of Bees as well.

The Teagarden novels actually predate the Sookie Stackhouse series, and while they share the same southern flair, they’re also a bit cozier, and a bit gentler. These are modern mysteries for those of us who still hold Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot fondly in our hearts.

As to Laurie R. King – I reviewed a number of her Holmes/Russell novels this spring, as I was re-reading them all (and filling out my collection) in preparation for the most recent book. She writes amazingly plausible Holmes situations, adding a sidekick/wife/colleague who blends perfectly into the world.

Don’t believe me? Check out this trailer for the most recent book:

Review: Confessions of a Counterfeit Farm Girl by Susan McCorkindale


Confessions of a Counterfeit Farm Girl
Susan McCorkindale
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I picked up Susan McCorkindale’s humorous memoir on a whim, largely because the blurb on the back cover mentioned something about living miles away from any Starbucks. As someone who has had that experience, and who considers “roughing it” to be a hotel that has neither wifi nor room service, I thought it would be something I’d enjoy.

I was not disappointed.

This book is McCorkindale’s snarky spin on what happens when a girl from New Jersey leaves her cushy job as the head of marketing for a well-known magazine, and moves, with her testosterone-laden husband and sons, to a farm in West Virginia. From her comments on local couture (or lack thereof) to her tales of catalog shopping – not for Dansko womens shoes, but for beauty aids, bikinis, and (later) chickens, everything is hilarious, but it’s hilarity tempered by her obvious love of her family.

While this book is probably best enjoyed by women with children, or women who regularly read Family Circle, there’s enough in it for those of us who only have dogs to enjoy.

Review: Fluke, by Christopher Moore


Fluke
by Christopher Moore
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Nothing makes you want to lose belly fat like a Christopher Moore novel about whales and swimming and Hawaii. This is both because his writing makes you want to be the one diving into the water, and because you will laugh so hard that any jiggling bits you may have will eventually become painful.

Fluke like many of Moore’s novels, is an adventure comedy. This one is about whale biology, and the main character is Nate Quinn, who turns around one day to see a whale with “Bite Me” painted on it’s tail. Or so he claims. Strangely, the frame of film with the proof is missing when the film is eventually developed, and he is greeted by a vandalized home and office upon he returns from his voyage.

As with all of Moore’s offerings, to elaborate would be to spoil the plot. Just know that Moore has managed to combine the study of humpback whales with enough laughter, sexual innuendo, and preposterous misadventure, and to do so in such a way that the reader can almost feel the ocean spray.

Read this novel poolside, or better yet, take it to the beach.

In Progress: Norwegian Wood, by Haruki Murakami


Norwegian Wood
Harumi Murakami
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I’m about half-way through Norwegian Wood, by Haruki Murakami. I had the book on my wish list forever, and then finally bought after last summers writing conference, because so many people there were talking up Murakami. Honestly, I’m not impressed.

I mean, I don’t hate the book. The characters are well written, certainly the protagonist is every inch an unfocused college student, but I’m finding his story more frustrating than compelling, perhaps because I have no focus of my own right now.

Part of my negative response, I think, is that there’s about as much romance, even in the “romantic” scenes of this book as there are in lists of Ferrari parts. Actually, considering that the Ferrari bits eventually lead to a working Ferrari, the list is probably more compelling.

And that’s the problem. With this book, there’s no real, driving, plot. There’s no “there” there, and there’s no motivation to take the journey.

I’ll finish the book, because I’m trying to not buy new books (except dog training manuals) until I’ve finished my existing stack, but unless something changes drastically, I’m afraid I won’t be burning to read any more Murakami in the near future.

Review: The Language of Bees, by Laurie R. King


The Language of Bees
Laurie R. King
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In the latest installment of the Holmes and Russell series, The Language of Bees the bees Holmes is raising in Sussex serve as both metaphor and counterpoint to the action-packed mystery. One of his hives is swarming, something bees apparently do when they suspect their keeper is not returning, and Mary is left alone with that problem, as Holmes as followed their latest client into London.

The nature of this story makes it impossible to review without minor spoilers. The client is question Holmes’ son, we are told, from an affair he had with Irene Adler during the years in which he was supposed to be dead. The mystery: the location of this grown son’s wife and small daughter.

Obviously there are tramps across wet moors, nights spent in boltholes with amenities (or a lack thereof) that are a far cry from the scale of a Riviera hotel – in fact, over the entire series both Holmes and Mary Russell have spent an inordinate amount of time being wet, dirty, cold, or hungry – conditions I normally object to reading about, but don’t mind in these stories in the slightest.

There is also familial angst (what if Holmes’ son murdered is family, what if Holmes’ loyalty is to the son he barely knows rather than Mary?) and a wild aeroplane flight to enhance the mystery.

Sadly, while the mystery is solved, at the end of the novel we are confronted with three words that the author says were meant to offer hope of another story, but which I always find frustrating: To be continued.

Goes well with hot tea and scones or crumpets followed by a hot bubble bath.