Eager reader of history, mystery, classics, biographies, steampunk, lit fic, science, scifi, and etc. My reviews are mostly positive--I rarely finish or write about books I don't enjoy. My TBR is too high for that.
While I like the idea of cozy mysteries I don’t actually end up reading them a lot, but in the middle of George Eliot’s dense, idea-rich Daniel Deronda I needed something light--like sherbet--to refresh my reading palate. Killer Wasps did the trick. I don’t know how it stacks up with others in the genre, but it’s certainly a playful, effervescent diversion. Having grown-up in the suburbs of Philadelphia I loved all the southeastern Pennsylvania references (Lancaster County!), Philly based food (hoagies!), and local neighborhood ambiance (the Main Line!) that flavored the story.
The romance is just a series of ridiculous non sequiturs, thirty-three year old Kristin Clark would have a spontaneous makeout session with one guy then moments later be crushing on another, and the book’s other characters are mostly old-line upper crust Bryn Mawr (WASP country) eccentrics or colorful New Jersey nouveau riche types (think Mob connections)--all somewhat over the top but lots of fun. Kristin is perpetually low on funds but she’s inherited her grandparents’ quaint little antique store, so in between solving the mystery (this really is a cozy because there are injuries but nobody dies) she attends Amish and hippie flea markets with her basset hound Waffles to restock her tiny showroom, all of which adds more entertaining elements to the plot.
The story races breathlessly along as Kristin juggles an increasing assortment of mismatched clues, missing neighbors, hunky heartthrobs, flamboyant customers, and discombobulated friends. At first I wasn’t planning to read the sequel, but there’s a love triangle (of course) that’s left hanging at the end (picture Joe Morelli and Ranger of the Stephanie Plum series, but less macho) and I kind of want to know what happens. . .