Clued for Thought: Murder Mysteries on the Menu

Lately, I've been reading even more cozy murder mysteries than usual.  Maybe because some other genres left a slightly bad taste in my mouth.  Anyway, in doing so, it hit me that most of the series I follow are food-related.  Many even include recipes, which I never use but nevertheless enjoy.  I guess that's part of why I'm so drawn to these wholesome whodunits.  They consistently serve up a helping of happy.  Because although it's fun to figure out who did in the nibby neighbor or arrogant heiress, it's the comfort of home-baked cakes and casseroles that keeps me at the table.

So here's a quartet of titles I recently read, arranged on poster board like entrées on seen-from-space plates:

Sprinkle with Murder by Jenn McKinlay, a Cupcake Bakery Mystery

Lemon Curd Killer by Laura Childs, a Tea Shop Mystery

Death of a Clam Digger by Lee Hollis, a Hayley Powell Food and Cocktails Mystery

Peking Duck and Cover by Vivien Chien, a Noodle Shop Mystery

Seeing them in all their quirky glory is like snuggling under a crazy quilt of culinary delights.  I even read some of Death of a Clam Digger to Charlotte (although not, I promise, the murder part!), and she was riveted, or, as the husband put it, on the edge of her blanket.

Now that I'm done writing this post, I realize that I haven't said anything I haven't said countless times before.  My love for cozies remains reliable, just like the mainstay stories themselves.  Suspense?  Sure. But no surprises.

And that's just how this creature of habit likes it. 🍰🔎🥘

Tea Time Crime

Flower clips: Capelli, ULTA

It's been eleven years, but I finally found my way back to cozy mystery author Laura Childs.  In 2012, I got crafty with a book from Childs' New Orleans-set scrapbooking series called Frill Kill.  This time I moved on to a volume from her Charleston-based tea shop series entitled Haunted Hibiscus.  Yet the more things change, the more they stay the same.  Because in both books I was struck not by whodunit-related intrigue, but, surprise surprise, fanciful fashion:

"Racks of denim jackets, skirts, and slacks were jammed next to soft sea island cotton dresses and diaphanous beach cover-ups.  A circular rack had long ball gowns and filmy silk wraps to match.  Antique highboys spilled out offerings of jeweled belts, strappy sandals, hand-painted silk scarves, bangle bracelets, and beaded handbags." (223)   

This scene takes place at a "denim and diamonds" event in an upscale boutique.  Yet as much as it charmed me (and it charmed me a lot), I'd be remiss in not reporting that the piping hot cup of homicide that is Haunted Hibiscus heats up when an author is hanged in a haunted house.  It's a grim incident to say the least, so Childs' imagery of beautiful clothes, as well as that of heroine Theodosia Browning's picture-perfect Indigo Tea Shop, go a long way in dispelling the gloom.   

Much like, I suppose, a restorative cup of Earl Grey or Celestial Seasonings.

Book Report: Frill Kill by Laura Childs

When I started reading Frill Kill, a scrapbooking mystery novel by Laura Childs, I wondered who this Laura Childs was and how she would feel if she knew that her book had ended up at the dollar store.  So I checked out Childs's site to find out more.  It turns out that Childs is quite enterprising, as she pens two other mystery series in addition to the scrapbooking line, namely the tea shop mysteries and the Cackleberry Club mysteries.  Ever the go-getter, she formerly owned her own ad agency and now writes full-time.  Her next scrapbooking mystery is called Postcards from the Dead and will be on sale next October.  Armed with this information, I'm fairly sure that the dollar store thing wouldn't faze her.

As you've probably guessed, Frill Kill falls into the cozy mystery genre.  Heroine Carmela owns an intimate and upscale scrapbooking supply shop, the likes of which I've never encountered in life or fiction, and her best friend Ava owns a voodoo shop.  The setting is darkly glamorous New Orleans, so the cozy-sweet factor is slightly undercut by a bold bayou bite.  Speaking of bites, a lethal one claims the life of young fashion model Amber in the alley behind Ava's shop.  The marks on Amber's neck coupled with the hairs found on her body send whispers of vampires and werewolves into the pre-Halloween air.  Scandal surrounds the boutique where Amber worked, spurring Carmela and Ava to add sleuthing to their already jam-packed agenda of shopkeeping, partying, modeling, and decorating for the big French Quarter Halloween carnival.  To add to the drama, Carmela is being wooed by her soon-to-be-ex-husband and the alternately surly and sexy detective in charge of the case.

A colorful yarn spiced with Southern sass, Frill Kill goes down like a mint julep.  (Or at least how I imagine a mint julep would go down.)  I especially enjoyed Childs' lush descriptions, my favorite of which is:

"Grand Folly Costume Shop glowed like a theater marquee as overhead pinpoint spotlights bounced and reflected off racks of glitzy, glamorous costumes.  Sequins, spangles, and gold lame seemed to be the watchword.  On shelves overhead, plastic, faceless heads showcased hats, wigs, tiaras, and crowns of every style and color.  Amid all this faux splendor, the smell of mothballs, cigarettes, and cleaning fluid hung redolent in the air." (91)

To me, this snippet encapsulates the sumptuousness and seediness unique to New Orleans.

The mystery itself stretched toward the predictable.  Not that I figured it out, mind you.  (I never do.)  But I wasn't awestruck either when the code was finally cracked.  Yet it's this lack of shock value that contributes to the collective blanket that is the cozy mystery.  No one ever curls up with creepiness.    

The next time I visit Amazon to stock up on books, I may just make a return journey to the French Quarter.