I almost put this book down. I only picked it up from the 7 Day Express Loans shelf at the library because of the setting. Not because Michaelides is a New York Times bestselling author or because his first novel debuted at #1 and sold 6.5 million copies. I just really wanted some Grecian atmosphere because I’ve just booked a writer’s retreat in the Cyclades. But the beginning bored me, even though from the first line it promised to be “a tale of murder.”
It was set on an ex-movie star’s private Greek island as promised, but not all of it. (That too was a lie.) And yes, there were moments where the sand and surf and wind buffeted me into that island world, but much of it is set on another island entirely. England. The Fury, of course, refers to the mad Grecian wind—a wind that plays as antagonistic a role as the insane trickster narrator, Elliot Chase (not his real name.) Nothing is real about this narrator. But I enjoyed moments like this:
“We made our way to the coast and began to search the beaches. This was an arduous task, with the wind attacking us as we walked. The fury was relentless, slashing our faces, hurling sand at us, screaming in our ears, shoving us off-balance every chance it got” (160).
It is a locked room murder mystery, I suppose, considering there are only seven people on the island: Lana, the ex-Hollywood actress who owns Aura (the island named after the Goddess); her seventeen-year-old son Leo; her studly boyfriend, Jason; her best girlfriend, a messed up actress named Kate; Agathi, the old woman who is Lana’s faithful servant; Nikos (I can’t remember why he’s there to tell you the truth, perhaps he’s another servant); and Elliot, our fiendish narrator who’s Lana’s friend and obsessed with her.
I say “fiendish” because the author breaks all kinds of writerly rules; like popping in with his opinions when he’s not in the room and can’t possibly know what’s being said. This cardinal “point-of-view” rule haunts me and I dare not break it. But I suppose a NewYork Times #1 bestselling author can do whatever he wants. Elliott frequently pops in with his first-person voice and is the most twisted fuck I’ve read in a long while. I caution you: Don’t believe what he says because three pages later, he’ll admit to making it up and give you a completely different version of the events. Oh, and the characters are actors, playing parts for the narrator, and at times the author, who continues to rewrite the script of this five-act prose-play. It’s brilliant really. Even if it’s as infuriating as that damn wind.
So, why didn’t I put this book down? One word. Spellbinding. Michaelides caught me in his trickster spell and forced me to keep reading, and, as I read, the action revved up—driven by lies and self-propelled by an annoying narrator. I can’t say I’ve read anything like it before.
Is there a murder? Yes. But that’s all I’ll tell you. To know more, you’ll have to mount the wind and see where she takes you. Who of these seven players is the victim and who the killer, I will not say.
If you’ve never read Jackie Elliott’s Coffin Cove cozy mysteries you’re in for a salty treat. Each story in this, currently four-book series, builds off the last and draws us deeper into the endangered and fearsome lives of Coffin Cove’s venturesome journalist/sleuth, Andi Silvers, along with her friends and neighbours. Imagine Murder, She Wrote liberally sprinkled with the grit and ferocity of The Shipping News, then nuanced with the history and atmosphere of Vancouver Island small town smack.
Elliott doesn’t shy away from shining a spotlight on political, social, and economic issues common to small provincial towns—especially those whose livelihoods were based on the forestry and fishing industries. We find fishers vs. loggers vs. environmental greenies, as well as rampant sexism, racism, and homophobia. When the tide turns and raw materials are depleted, a town must adapt or die— a sentiment Mayor Jade Thompson wears etched across her forehead. Jade beat out one of the oldest boys in the club to spirit Coffin Cove—a small town near Nanaimo—into the 21st Century, despite almost dying herself. Now, she’s turning the fish plant into a trendy tourist attraction and organizing an Indigenous cultural centre on offshore Hope Island—both gestures that have the locals pointing pitchforks.
The Vile Narrows refers to a treacherous stretch of sea bordering Quadra Island that hid Ripple Rock, “an underwater mountain with two peaks which caused dangerous eddies from the strong tidal currents that ran through Seymour Narrows” in Discovery Passage. On April 5, 1958 the government blew it to bits. Also on that day, Randolph Weber rescued a young boy—an act that comes back to haunt him decades later when, at the age of one hundred, he’s murdered in his home on Quadra Island. Soon after, his son, archaeologist Gerald Weber is murdered in Coffin Cove. Seeing an obvious connection, Andi Silvers sends a young reporter to Quadra to parse out the story for the Gazette. Meanwhile, a psychopath from earlier in the series resurfaces in Coffin Cove and Andi’s father, himself a journalist, disappears. The RCMP are hard into it as Elliott piles body on body with the precision of the most intimate executioner. Her murders are brutal and visceral. Why shoot someone when you can bash in their skull with a cast iron pot or stab them gleefully multiple times with a homemade knife?
Elliott’s strength lies in her ability to twist fact and fiction, past and present, into a pretzel of a tale. I’ve just read all four murder mysteries—though not in order—and had no problem following along, although I drew visual mind maps to connect the characters like Elliott’s detectives do. Each chapter introduces a character with a full-on backstory that situates the reader in the midst of their life, their trauma, and their agenda. Elliott’s writing is fluid, sensory, and descriptive, and she has an excellent ear for dialogue. Moreover, you will learn things, like the difference between a purse seiner and a packer, and what it’s like to live aboard a boat in January.
Elliott writes with all the earthy charm of Anne Cleeves—perhaps the blood of the gritty English murder mystery writer runs through her veins. It’s where she began. Since marrying a Canadian West Coast fisherman in 2004, she’s become enamored with the charm of Vancouver Island’s harbour towns. Book two in this series, Hell’s Half Acre, was shortlisted for the Crime Writers of Canada 2022 Whodunit award for best traditional mystery. Take a chance on this rivetting cozy mystery series that won’t disappoint. The nautical lover in each of us will enjoy exploring Coffin Cove.
If you’re a fan of British cozy mystery author Elly Griffiths, you’ll know that she’s been writing one Ruth Galloway archaeological mystery each year for over a decade. This is book fourteen. When the pandemic hit, she had to make a decision. Do I set this story in the current reality or not? It’s a decision many authors faced and will continue to face as we move through history. As no-nonsense as Ruth, Griffiths decided to not only to set it during the pandemic but to make it a kind of homage to plagues and isolation. I admit that I found bits triggering at times as I followed the characters through the horror and hassle of the opening weeks of the plague in Britain, February 2020.
Ten-year-old Kate is home, bored, doing school online. Nelson’s wife and young son are away looking after her mother. There are pandemic references: the evening clanging cheer to front-line workers, masking or not, grocery cues, empty shelves and the stocking of staples including toilet paper, lockdown laws, social distancing, two-metre walks out-of-doors, office staff on rotation and working from home, learning to Zoom, teaching from home, loved ones taken away to hospital and the grief of those quarantined and left behind who are not permitted to visit, references to plagues past, and the feeling of never being able to escape the fear and isolation it conjures.
Griffith’s strength is her ability to weave in these facts in a kind of matter-of-fact way, so they never overpower the mystery, which concerns healthy women who appear to be suddenly committing suicide. One woman is even found in her bedroom with the door locked from the outside.
Griffiths’ books are always gently packed with tidbits and meaningful symbols. The title signifies, not only the isolation of plagues in general, but how our “killer” operates, locking victims in total darkness. As is always the case, Nelson and Ruth end up tangled in dangerous climatic scenes of discovery.
Nelson, who’s living alone while his wife’s away, comes calling on Ruth until his grown daughter arrives home, needs her daddy, and he goes running off. That’s Nelson, protector of all and burly man of guilt. Ruth takes it all in her stride, even the discovery of her mother’s lifelong secret—a secret that will come to affect her present moment in a big way.
One thing that bothered me: I came away not understanding the killer’s motivation. He had the means and opportunity but the motive seemed lacking. Perhaps I missed something.
One thing I loved: the “Who’s Who” character pages at the end of the book. My favourite character is Cathbad and, true to form, the druid shaman embraces the pandemic by offering Zoom yoga classes every morning to his children and friends.
Don’t let the pandemic setting deter you. Just be aware that if you start fretting about going out in public, you’re likely triggered. We live in a different time now and this too shall pass.
“Two dozen unexplained wreaths over the past year?”
When a mysterious undertaker is seen delivering floral funerary wreaths to families of the deceased BEFORE the death occurs, the WISE women spring into action in Ace’s latest cozy mystery. The police won’t touch it with a “bargepole” as the deaths aren’t suspicious. And yet, how can this undertaker know who’s going to die unless he’s been killing them? Meanwhile, using her nursing background, no-nonsense Mavis goes undercover to investigate some Suspicious Sisters, when it’s noted that narcotics belonging to recently deceased patients are disappearing in a certain hospital. A morbid aura shadows the idyllic village of Anwen-by-Wye, in the eighth installment of Ace’s WISE Enquiries series, and the bodies pile up.
By the way, WISE is an acronym for the origins of the four women who’ve teamed up to answer enquiries and solve these bizarre crimes: Carol from Wales, Christine from Ireland, Scottish Mavis, and English Annie. These bizarre crimes can only originate in the unrelenting mind of Cathy Ace. Averaging two books a year, the woman is unstoppable.
The jury’s still out on Ace’s view of the Welsh aristocracy. In this book, more than others, we see the colossal power held by Henry Twyst, the eighth Duke of Chellingworth, and his eccentric dowager mother, Althea. By the end of this book, they own it all, and though we applaud their generosity as patrons, the reader can’t help but notice the power imbalance. “At least we keep the village hall looking tidy. Which pleases both Their Graces,” quips one lowly villager. “Indeed, while “Their Graces” quibble over family issues, they continue to generate a rental income from the villagers and more from tours of Chellingworth Hall. Yet, Ace’s satirizing of the octogenarian dowager’s bizarre wardrobe choices, and her daughter Clementine’s plans to wed “at dawn on the summer solstice at the base of Queen Hatshepsut’s obelisk at the temple of Karnak” in Egypt, give us pause. Do I detect a mutinous murmur beneath a witty veneer?
A master of social satire, Ace presents this wry romp, slathered in details, and peppered with Welsh gems. Some favourites? The chief inspector “knew his onions when it came to his job” and “she’ll have my guts for garters.” Or this cringeworthy favourite: “Sugar was better than bile.” Annie’s “Gordon Bennett!” sent me running to Google. Ace’s dialects sparkle, her sensory descriptions wrap you in the best of the season, and her satirizing will make you smile.
Ace’s strength is in writing what she knows and doing so flawlessly. It’s clear she genuinely loves her characters and her birth country, as her prose oozes with colloquialisms. Ace emigrated from Swansea, Wales to British Columbia at age forty, and often visits home. A longtime fan of Nancy Drew and Agatha Christie, she comes naturally to the cozy murder mystery genre and is a storyteller extraordinaire. Her standalone novel, The Wrong Boy, and her Cait Morgan Mysteries have been optioned for TV by UK producers Free@LastTV. One can only hope, the WISE Enquiries follow in their wake.
Ace has been country-hopping this year, presenting at events like Gŵyl Crime Cymru (Wales’ first international crime literature festival), Calgary’s When Words Collide, and Boucheron (an annual world mystery convention). Catch her where you can and in the meantime, check out her two long-running cozy mystery series: The WISE Enquiries Agency Mysteries and Cait Morgan Mysteries.
If you’ve read or watched The Girl on the Train, you’ll know how Paula Hawkins likes to mess with her character’s minds. Published in 2021, the slow fire that’s burning could refer to any of them, as all of these characters carry emotional wounds from past traumas.
There’s “The Girl Who Got Away,” but not unscathed, when she and her friend skipped school one day and accepted a ride with a predator.
The woman who was struck by a vehicle in a hit-and-run at age ten and bears more than physical scars.
The woman married to the story-stealing writer who lost her little boy and never recovered. And her sister with her own troubled son.
The old woman who no one sees but who sees it all.
Hawkins connects them all and situates them in the same community. She even provides a map. At its core, this is a murder mystery that begins with a vicious killing on a canal boat in London. Intelligently crafted, the author keeps us guessing as she skips between scenes from her characters’ pasts that reveal possible motivation, flaws, and ferocity.
Paula Hawkins worked as a journalist for fifteen years before writing fiction. This training is evident in the structuring of her novels; as well as her fascination with people, their humanity, and their personal stories. She grew up in Zimbabwe but has spent the past thirty years in London. A Slow Fire Burning is a quick read, excellent for summer, and likely available at your local library. That’s where I found it … on the “Hawk” fiction shelf.
Kelley Armstrong is a wickedly voracious writer who often pens two series simultaneously, sometimes while writing or editing other projects as well. Still, she manages all with equal enthusiasm, detail, and creativity. I honestly don’t know how she does it. The woman must never sleep.
After Rockton’s demise, she followed the characters to a new, wild Yukon city: Haven’s Rock. Now, she’s flown across the sea and back through time to give us another new series that blends fantasy, mystery, and historical fiction.
A Rip Through Time, the first book in this series, introduces a brand new, eclectic cast of characters. Like Rockton’s Casey Duncan, Mallory Atkinson is a strong, clever thirty-year-old homicide detective. On May 20, 2019, she’s in Edinburgh, Scotland caring for her dying grandmother. When she goes out for coffee, she bumps into a man in the shop, and apologizes—she is, after all, Canadian. On her way back to the hospital, she hears a woman cry out in a shadowy alley and goes to investigate. There, she glimpses the woman and her attacker; then feels a coarse rope around her neck. Mallory passes out and when she awakens, finds herself in the body of the other victim, Catriona Mitchell, a nineteen-year-old maid who lives and works in the home of an undertaker. The date? May 20, 1869.
Timeslip is fascinating to read and write. It takes tremendous research as you’re effectively writing historical fiction mixed with sci-fi/fantasy, and in this case, crime. Armstrong has taken the time to, not only do an enormous amount of research on Victorian Scotland, but provide a “Selected & Complete Research Bibliography” on her website. Armstrong says, “It’s not just knowing whether an item was invented by that time (or out of fashion by that time.) It’s the language, the customs, the concepts, the ideas…”
Mallory Atkinson (wearing Catriona’s body) is as cerebral as Sherlock Holmes, and we process these timeslip issues along with her. She slips in and out of Victorian English and contemporary casual speech as we move from her thoughts to her encounters with the handsome Dr. Duncan Gray and his independent sister, Isla. Catriona’s miraculous personality change gains her a position as, not just Gray’s housemaid, but his forensic assistant. Yes, Gray is a little dense when it comes to women, and accepts that his maid has changed dramatically due to a bump on the head. Then the bodies start to fall, and Mallory realizes she didn’t slip through this time rip alone.
The close first-person point-of-view draws the reader into the mind of the analytical protagonist as she struggles to, not only understand her predicament, but survive and overcome it, then find a way home.
Reminiscent of Outlander, Armstrong’s newest series is Intelligent, detailed, and original; definitely a series to watch. Will Mallory return to her time? Or will she win the heart of Dr. Gray and decide to stay? Will they catch the serial killer who eludes them? Or will other criminals fall through the rip in time as well?
We use cookies to ensure that we give you the best experience on our website. If you continue to use this site we will assume that you are happy with it.OkNoPrivacy policy
