Criminally Cozy: Shaking it Up Shamrock Style

I may have missed out on getting a Shamrock Shake this year.  But I wasn't about to let St. Pat's week pass without reading a green-themed cozy.  And Irish Milkshake Murder, which is comprised of novellas from Carlene O'Connor, Peggy Ehrhart, and Liz Ireland, was the perfect pick.  Each tale features a mint milkshake and characters that are just as colorful, including an Irish dancing duo, sheep-shearing enthusiasts, and elves in leprechaun clothing.  St. Paddy's décor and treats abound, homing in on those holiday feels.  It's almost as if no one's been murdered at all.

What more could a cozy -- and festive -- fan want?  Not a thing.  

Except that Shamrock Shake.

Tea Shop Pretty Amidst the Grim and Gritty: View from the Vanity

Laura Childs's A Dark and Stormy Tea may be boiling over with murder and mayhem.  By my favorite parts are her descriptions of Theodosia's charming tea shop and cottage.  And of the many word pictures she paints, the most vivid is that of Theodosia's vanity:

"With its desk and drawers and cushioned stool, the vanity took up one wall and was the perfect spot for Theodosia to sit and apply makeup or brush her hair.  Scattered atop the vanity were Theodosia's collectibles -- perfume bottles by Chanel and Dior, leather-covered journal, ceramic box decorated with jaguars that held her good pearl earrings, a large white bowl with scalloped edges that corralled her bracelets, cuffs, and a strand of pearls and a Jo Malone candle." (79)

I love hearing about "collectibles," especially those of a beauty bent.  They're full of feminine fun, aren't they?  So here are some pics from my own vanity.  Or, rather, the nightstands in my closet.

Princess toys and novelty tissues may not be Chanel.  But they are my happy place.  

Self Care Dare: Taking Back Fun Day

Sasha Worth is in a serious funk.  She's so bogged down by her job that she can barely function.  Making dinner seems like an insurmountable task, she has no energy for friends, and the only thing that comforts her is watching Legally Blonde.  So when a cashier asks her out, she tells him she's not interested in sex because it's just "genitals rubbing together." (14)  Pretty cringe, right?  But also hilarious and charming and stranger-than-fiction real.  Because this is Sophie Kinsella and her second-latest book, The Burnout.

That said, it's bizarre but not surprising when Sasha tears out of her office in a burst of can't-take-it-anymore anxiety and runs into a brick wall.  Emotionally spent, she takes a leave of absence and holes up at the seaside resort where she vacationed as a kid.  All Sasha wants is to be left alone.  But the universe has other plans.  Soon she befriends the quirky hotel staff, delves into a twenty-year-old mystery, and asks herself what she really wants.  And she does it all with a man who seemed awful but turns out to be just what she needs.

Every time Sasha stumbles or has a wish-the-earth-would-swallow-her moment, I feel like it's happening to me, and I bet other readers do too.  That's the magic of Kinsella.  She shows us the dark in the light and the light in the dark through the eyes of relatable heroines.  In a world where self care is often just a buzz word, Sasha asserts her worth and puts herself first, making The Burnout a standout.

So thank you, Sophie Kinsella, for giving us yet another wonderful read.  There's no one I'd rather have a breakdown -- er, burnout -- with.

Make Believe and the Tales We Weave: An Otherworldly Homecoming

Ashley Poston has cornered the market on romantic dramedies with a dash of fantasy.  And by fantasy I don't mean delusions (although there are those too), but the supernatural.  In this tradition of The Dead Romantics and The Seven Year Slip, she gives us A Novel Love Story.

Elsy Merriweather is an English professor with a dirty little secret: she loves romance novels.  While her colleagues drone on about Beowulf and Byron, she's daydreaming about her next book club read.  Because there's nothing as comforting as a happily ever after.  And Elsy and her best friend Pru know that no one writes one quite like Rachel Flowers.  The author has gotten the besties through many a tough time.  So when she dies and leaves her last book unfinished, Elsy and Pru are grief-stricken.  Especially Elsy.  Because she's been in a funk ever since her fiancé dumped her, a feeling that's only intensified now that Pru's engaged.  The only thing getting her through the day is her upcoming book club retreat.  Yet Elsy is mere miles from the cabin when her pea-green Pinto breaks down.  Panicked, she doesn't know what to do -- until she realizes that she's somehow stumbled into Eloraton, the setting of Rachel Flowers's books.      

It's a book lover's dream.  But also kind of a nightmare.  Because Elsy almost hits someone in the rain, a handsome bookstore owner named Anders.  Persnickety and reserved, Anders is a bit of a buzzkill.  Also, unlike everyone else Elsy meets, she can't recall him from any of Rachel Flowers's books.  Still, she's drawn to him and his charming shop.  As the town mechanic-slash-hot-sauce-purveyor works on the Pinto, Elsy wonders just how long she'll have to stay in this fantasyland.  But as the days go by and she becomes more embroiled in Eloraton's drama -- and the mystery of Anders -- she begins to wonder how she'll ever leave.

A Novel Love Story is a great escape for readers in search of magic.  I love how Poston plays with the boundaries of the world we know and whatever else might be out there.  In doing so, she makes the impossible possible.

And it doesn't get much more happily ever after than that.  

Tasty Tussles and the Old Cupcake Hustle: Of Prints and Princesses

Publish or perish.  Also, high school never ends.  These maxims came to mind as I read Jenn McKinlay's Going, Going, Ganache and Dying for Devil's Food.  Even if Going, Going, Ganache isn't about academia but a struggling magazine.  

After turning a photoshoot into a food fight, Mel and the rest of the Fairy Tale Cupcakes crew are sentenced to run a baking boot camp for the Southwest Style staffers.  But things really go south when one of the reporters is murdered.  As a writer who exposed Arizona's elite, the guy had a lot of enemies.  So it's up to Mel to find out which one silenced him for good.  

In Dying for Devil's Food, Mel is guilted into catering her fifteenth high school reunion despite being bullied as an overweight teen.  True to form, some of the popular kids, including the class mean queen, sling backhanded compliments about her now-svelte figure.  But the real trouble starts when said queen goes to powder her nose -- and never returns.  A poisoned cocktail points to murder -- and a lipstick-scrawled message makes Mel the prime suspect.

So there you have it in a pastry shell.  Copy and cattiness kill.

That said, the real crime would be if Fairy Tale Cupcakes used pastry shells.

Mr. Right vs. Mr. Right Now: A Tale as Bold as Time

After a hiatus, the book club is back!  So it's time to review my most recent pick, namely Rebecca Serle's Expiration Dates.

Daphne Bell has been given a gift -- or a curse, depending how you look at it.  The universe sends her pieces of paper saying the amount of time she'll spend with each man she dates.  Daphne doesn't know how or why these relationships end, only that they will.

But Daphne isn't just a thirtysomething looking for love.  Because this is Serle, who delivered a doozy of a gotcha in One Italian Summer.  In Expiration Dates, she does it again, and I didn't even see it coming.  But once I processed the say what? of it all, I appreciated how it deepened the story.

I don't think I can say more without being a spoiler.  I will say that Serle's writing is beautiful, lending magic to an already enchanted premise. 

Expiration Dates reminds us that time is as infinite as it is finite -- but ultimately what we make of it.

Second Look Book: The Keyes to Closure

Marian Keyes is one of my favorite authors.  Which is odd because her books don't dwell in the cocoon of comfort in which I usually burrow.  No, her novels, despite being rife with Jo Malone candles and witty wisecracks, are steeped in real life and all its complex emotions.  Yet however paradoxically, there is a kind of comfort in that.  So when I'd heard that Keyes had written a follow-up to Rachel's Holiday, namely Again, Rachel, I was all in.  

Rachel is one of the five beloved Walsh sisters, a quintet of flawed, take-no-prisoners, hilarious women.  Each has her own book -- and her own demons.  So, in Rachel's Holiday, middle sister Rachel isn't jetting off to Paris or Ibiza.  She's going to rehab.  Her stint at Dublin's Cloisters is as harrowing and heartbreaking as you'd imagine, albeit tempered by Keyes's signature snark.  Now, twenty years later, Keyes revisits Rachel's story in Again, Rachel.  A counselor at the Cloisters, Rachel seems to have it all figured out.  But twenty years is a long time, and a lot has happened.  

A master storyteller, Keyes doesn't fill us in all at once, instead feeding us flashbacks filtered through the voice of her scrappy and sympathetic but undeniably unreliable narrator.  In between, Rachel navigates the present day, which entails heart-to-hearts with her sponsor, Nola.  Whenever Rachel is stymied by one of life's questions, Nola tells her to "golden key" it.  In other words, put it aside until the universe presents an answer.  And although this isn't what Rachel wants to hear, it ends up being what she needs. 

Again, Rachel is hard to put down but also hard to read, on account of all the rawness and realness.  The result, however, is a sequel that's more powerful than the original.  Maybe I feel that way because Rachel's older or because I'm older.  But there's no escaping that Again, Rachel is layered with, well, everything.  It's one of the saddest books I've ever read, but also one of the best.  Because it helps you hope while appreciating what you've got, however painful or imperfect.  

And as Nola would undoubtedly say, that's the golden key.

Oodles of Caboodles and Others

Marabou Maven Necklace

Bag: A New Day, Target

The magic of Macy's (their tagline at one point!).

Hair claws: Wild Fable, Target

The cover of my new (albeit unopened) sketchbook.

Shoes: Madden Girl, Kohl's; Tights: Amazon

Polka dot cami: Wet Seal; Zebra shrug: Bar III, Macy's; Skirt: Tinseltown, Macy's

Coat: Madden Girl, Kohl's; Skirt: Wild Fable: Target

A local taco place I haven't tried yet.

Lace top: Xhilaration, Target

Eyes on the Skies Necklace and Bracelet

Shoes: Unlisted by Kenneth Cole, Marshalls

Barrettes: Wild Fable, Target

Skort: So, Kohl's

A Caboodle is always a thoughtful gift.  Despite the recent The Sex Lives of College Girls episode where Whitney rejects the peace offering of one from Kimberly (Pauline Chalamet, and yes, she's Timothée's sister!) as an apology for kissing her ex.  Kimberly is the geek of the friend group, so the Caboodle is meant to be cringe.  But unlike Whitney, I was stoked to receive not one, not two, but three Caboodles for my birthday!  The sky blue one is almost exactly like the first Caboodle I ever got, which was for Christmas when I was eight.  I remember my (boy) cousin scoffing that it looked like a tackle box.  As if!    

In another nod to '80s/'90s nostalgia, I included this shot of the Memphis print headbands, soda-flavored Lipsmackers, and Let's Go to the Mall book I got for Christmas.  The book is an " '80s seek and find."  So, a Where's Waldo of Walkmans and wayfarers.  I can't wait to get into it!    

You know what else is very '80s/'90s?  Show-and-telling my gifts.  

Which is just the kind of uncool thing that Kimberly might do.  

A Play on Nerds: Monsters are Murder

Whenever I settle in with one of Laura Levine's Jaine Austen mysteries, I know I'm in for the Godiva of treats.  Just like Jaine before downing a pint of Chunky Monkey or her cat Prozac poised to inhale her Minced Mackerel Guts.  So when I opened Death by Smoothie, I was set for a feast.

Jaine's latest gig is as a script doctor for computer geek lovers-turned-lottery winners.  They're over the moon to be producing a play of their favorite sitcom, the all-but-forgotten I Married a Zombie.  Yet the duo's dreams are dashed when their talentless leading lady makes an enemy of everyone on set -- and threatens their romance.  So it's no surprise when someone poisons her green smoothie, recasting the undead diva as dead.

Jaine thought she had her hands full resuscitating the script.  But things get really dicey when her neighbor Lance enlists her to find out whodunit.  His actor boyfriend is a suspect, and if there's anything that love-a-holic Lance can't abide, then it's losing his soul mate du jour.  So Jaine dusts off her detective hat and does some digging.  That is, between emails from her wacky parents, hijinks-jammed job interviews, and entertainingly awful dates, all while fueling herself with another Big Mac and/or buttered bagel.  Jaine's sleuthing -- and life -- make for the most deliciously cringeworthy in the cozy genre.  There's no PI I adore more.

Luckily, I can enjoy Jaine's antics for capers to come.  Because despite her dangerous pass time -- and diet -- she has more lives than Prozac.   

Settling the Score With 2024: Festive Fit and Fiction Finale

Dress: ModCloth

My mom's Christmas cookies.

Coat: ModCloth

Boots: Impo, Macy's

Sweater: Pink Republic, Kohl's; Boots: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Bow: Target

Pillow: ??? This is my parents' house. 😏

Dress: Xhilaration, Target

A print from a top not in this post.  Because sometimes you need an extra filler pic.  Anyway, it's from ModCloth.

Shoes: Betsey Johnson, DSW

Necklaces and bangles: Kohl's, JCPenney, and B Fabulous

I can't believe that another Christmas -- and year! -- are done and dusted.  It went by in a blur of color and chaos, but for once I have to say that it was a contented kind of crazy.  Thanks, Charlotte.  

That said, no book reviews or other reflections today.  Just a wish that you have a wonderful last day of 2024 and embrace your own kind of crazy in 2025. 🎉🎈     

Second Act Pact: Put a Little Love in Your Art

I was so busy this December that I almost forgot to read Jenny Bayliss's latest.  Known for releasing a heartfelt romcom each Christmas, the Brit lit wit  never fails to make me smile through my Santa-induced stress.  So when I spied a lone copy of Kiss Me at Christmas while tornadoing through Target, I snagged it. 

Teacher-turned-pastoral care worker Harriet Smith is in dire need of a change.  Overworked and underappreciated, she's always on call and haunted by the one student she couldn't save.  And this Christmas her nerves are especially fraught because her daughter's spending the holiday stateside.  Lonely and vulnerable, triple-cardigan-wearing Harriet embarks on a one night stand.  Then, fresh off the walk of shame, she finds her most at-risk students, a.k.a. the "famous five," playing hooky in the abandoned Winter Theater.  

When her students get caught, she takes the blame and, per the eccentric old woman who owns the theater, cleans it up to avoid charges.  Yet what starts as community service snowballs into a production of A Christmas Carol.  Harriet leads, inspires, and energizes the famous five, a local theater group, and various disenfranchised community clubs including refugees, treasure hunters, and self-proclaimed "lonely farts" into putting on the best show ever.  Also, there's the guy from Harriet's one night stand, who just happens to be the eccentric woman's lawyer.       

It's nice when Christmas has a sense of humor.

Still, Kiss Me at Christmas is more than a romcom.  It's about self-care and community, two things that sound as though they'd be at odds but are, oddly, intertwined.  Because it's only when Harriet allows herself to be at peace that she's able to bring peace to others.  And yes, perhaps, fall in love.  

Big-hearted and hilarious, Kiss Me at Christmas is Bayliss's best book yet.  Because everyone deserves a second act.  Especially at Christmas.

The House That Jack the Quipper Built: Drop Dead Gingerbread Cred

"Run, run, fast as you can.  You can't catch me, I'm the Gingerbread Man!"  The beloved rhyme turns out to be untrue in Lee Hollis's Death of a Gingerbread Man.  Because the runner up of Bar Harbor's annual gingerbread house building contest loses more than first place.  He bites the sugar dust, with the winner emerging as the prime suspect.  And he (the winner, not the dead dude) happens to be Hayley Powell's long-lost father.  

In the twenty-odd Hayley Powell food and cocktails mysteries, we've heard nary a word about the man who gave the sleuth life.  Sure, her impossible-to-please mother Sheila sometimes rears her ugly head, but her pops has remained, well, a mystery.  Until now.  Fresh from yet another failed romance, Dwight Jordan blows back into Bar Harbor, much to the delight of half the town -- and the chagrin of the other.  A charming if disheveled conniver, Dwight leaves a trail of chaos wherever he goes.  And this time that trail includes murder.

Death of a Gingerbread Man may be Hayley's zaniest misadventure yet.  I snickered at the sitcom-worthy snafus that Dwight "unknowingly" authors.  Each is more cringeworthy than the last, making for a quirky Christmas caper.  Yet despite being a clever whodunit, Death of a Gingerbread Man isn't really about whether or not Dwight offed his fellow baker.  It's about if he'll stay in Bar Harbor or keep running. You know, like the Gingerbread Man.

Maybe the rhyme rings true after all.