Book Crooks and Crusaders: Reading Between the Lies

When my sister chose Elle Cosimano's Finlay Donovan Digs Her Own Grave for book club, I was disappointed.  Although I enjoyed the series about a single mom and romance writer-turned-PI, the last one we read, Finlay Donovan Rolls the Dice, got really gruesome.  But I started reading Digs Her Own Grave anyway, wondering if the title would prove to be prophetic in more ways than one.  Here's what I dug up:

They say that fish and visitors stink in three days.  But Mrs. Haggerty is a whole new class of crusty crustacean.  After she's sprung from the slammer, her grandson dumps her on Finlay and her nanny Vero.  Yet the fact that Mrs. Haggerty allegedly did not murder the man exhumed from her rose garden isn't the most disturbing thing about the octogenarian.  It's that she's been judging --and spying on --- Finlay for years.  But things go from annoying to alarming when Finlay's ex-husband is arrested instead.  Although part of Finlay would love to see Steven behind bars, she ultimately doesn't want the father of her children to end up with a teardrop tattoo.  So she and Vero do what they do best -- set out to solve a murder.

What follows is the usual roller coaster ride of hijinks and danger.  And also, this time, a book club.  Mrs. Haggerty becomes a tough love Mary Poppins to Finlay's kids.  Teen hacker Cam and Finlay's flamboyantly dressed agent Sylvia add to the chaos.  But it's hot cop Nick who commands our attention -- and Finlay's.  Their on-again, off-again romance is very much on and becomes more layered.  That said, the tale is more mystery than thriller, making it my favorite in the series.  Which is a plot twist I didn't see coming.

Finlay Donovan Digs Her Own Grave is as compelling as it is complicated, widening the feminist lens through which the series is filtered.

And, of course, reminding us to keep our friends close -- and our neighbors closer.  

Sister Sleuths: Cooking up Carbs and Chaos

With the book club and my own never-ending TBR list, books are taking over my life.  After finishing my sister's pick, Elle Cosimano's Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead, my mom couldn't wait to find out what happened next and went for the next installment, Finlay Donovan Jumps the Gun.  I can't blame her, as these books are page turners that bleed into one another.  I think it's the only whodunit series I've read where the same mystery keeps building throughout (because the Russian mob never rests).  Anyway, this time, Finlay and Vero are still trying to find the online hacker who wants to hack Finlay's ex to pieces.  And apparently, the best way to do that is to join the Police Academy.  No Steve Guttenberg cameos here, though; this is the citizens' version of the training.  To that point, even neighborhood busybody Mrs. Haggerty is along for the ride-along, giving Finlay and Vero a run for their blood money in her Juicy Couture sweats.  Of course, hot cop Nick is in charge of the program and is still trying to entice Finlay to sample what her mother referred to as his "nice biscuits."  It's all pretty hilarious, and less gory than its two predecessors.  Best of all, for once I thought I had the perp figured out (I was wrong, but it was nice while it lasted).  What's more, the cliffhanger's a real doozy.  But we'll have to wait until Cosimano writes the next book to find out how Finlay and Vero hang in there.

After vicariously chasing bad guys -- and being chased by them -- I was ready for a different kind of biscuit, or rather, roll.  Yes, it was time for cozy queen Joanne Fluke's Caramel Pecan Roll Murder.  In a nutshell, it's about a blowhard who gets bumped off during a fishing competition.  I read it in a day, probably because it's half recipes, and found its downhome charm kind of soothing.  This isn't always the case; sometimes the local yokel simplicity of this series grates on me.  That said, unlike Finlay, the heroine, Hannah, doesn't have to investigate murders; she just likes to (which presents its own kind of neurosis, but I won't get into that).  She's a mild-mannered Minnesotan, baking cookies and juggling a hot cop of her own -- plus a dorky dentist -- while stepping in to solve the occasional murder.  Not that things ever heat up for Hannah in the romance department.  In Caramel Pecan Roll Murder, the hot gos is that Hannah's bunking with the dentist while her condo is being deep cleaned.  But it's all much ado about nothing, as Hannah never hooks up with anyone.  Still, what I find most horrifying about these books isn't Hannah's love life or even the crimes -- it's the sheer quantity of baked goods that Hannah is expected to produce every day, often beginning before sunrise.  People are always like, hey, Hannah, can you bake three dozen Coconut Mocha Madness cookies for today's Rotary Club meeting? or whatever.  And that's not even counting all the friends and family that drop by her shop to gobble up the candied fruits of her labor. 

It's almost enough to make you want to go undercover . . . which brings us full circle back to Finlay.

But then, I guess that's what books and life are about: finding that elusive balance.         

Big Hearts and Body Parts

I had so much fun doing a book compare and contrast that I decided to do it again!  What's under the microscope and magnifying glass this time?  Ali Hazelwood's The Love Hypothesis and Elle Cosimano's Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead.  I read The Love Hypothesis on my own, and Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead was my sister's book club selection (as you may recall, my sister got us started on this series with Finlay Donovan is Killing It.) 

The Love Hypothesis is a romcom about Olive Smith, a dedicated but mistrustful-of-love Stanford scientist who embarks upon a fake relationship to help her best friend find true love (and yes, that premise is as farcical as it sounds and not something I'm getting into).  Olive's playacting paramour?  Biology department alpha Adam Carlsen, a gorgeous and brilliant specimen of a man who's awful to everyone except Olive.  With her, he's funny and charming, protective and tender, and so respectful it's an aphrodisiac.  Not that Olive falls for him right away.  Oh no, she fights Cupid with every fiber of her being, so intent on denying herself happiness that sometimes I wanted to shake her.  Still, I understand that she has her issues (her mom died of cancer when she was a teenager), and that surrendering to love can be scary.  But when her smarmy Harvard mentor crosses the line, she hits rock bottom and learns that the only way out is to open up and ask for help.

Then there's Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead, which isn't at all romantic unless you count Finaly's love triangle with a callow law student and a seasoned detective.  Which I don't, because the number one relationship in Finaly's life (after the one with her kids, of course) is her friendship with partner Vero.  Not only is Vero an ace accountant and nanny; she's also Finlay's ride-or-die when it comes to tracking down the killer contracted to end Finaly's ex.  That's right.  The sod farm king is now the quarry, with the Russian mob lurking in the background making sure the bodies stay buried.  And it all started in a chat room masquerading as a safe space for wives to swap cleaning tips and trash their husbands.  The whole domestic-life-as-a-front-for-illegal-activity thing reeks of Good Girls -- in a very good way.  And I do mean "reek," given that fish, visitors, and bodies start to smell after three days.

So, yeah, these two books are different.  Even if both have blue covers and represent the seemingly safe fiction genres of romance and mystery or, as I like to call them, sex and violence.  I enjoyed both.  The Love Hypothesis is a classic slow burn love story, and its characters have great chemistry (even if they are biologists).  I heart a hero who can honor the heroine's independence while also being chivalrous.  And Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead is just so clever and funny.  If it weren't funny, then I wouldn't be able to read it, because it's also pretty gory.  But as with everything else, the jokes set the right tone for me, reducing even the darkest scene to a merely macabre comic strip.       

Still, I preferred The Love Hypothesis.  

Knights in shining armor over armed robberies.  

Crime Fiction Affliction: Making it Write

My sister's book club pick was Finlay Donovan Is Killing It, by Elle Cosimano.  It's a murder mystery, so I was into it from go.  That said, it's a little grittier than my usual cat-lady-slash-vigilante whodunit fare.  Allow me to explain.

Finlay Donovan is a writer and single mother who's losing at life.  Her ex-husband is a nickel-and-diming Lothario, her kids cause constant chaos, and her romantic suspense novels barely pay for pizza.  To top it all off, now some rando at Panera thinks that Finlay's a hitwoman and wants to hire her to kill her husband.  And she won't take no for an answer.

I don't know about you, but this makes my worst day look like lunch at The Plaza.

Cosimano's style is sharp, irreverent, and dare I say sassy.  She takes us on a raucous ride involving mob bosses, sexy cops, and one fast-talking babysitter.  By having Finlay fight writer's block and crime, Cosimano elevates the starving artist trope to survival.  

Also, there's a sod farm. 

I'd be lying if I said I was more comfortable with Finlay than her small-town sleuthing sisters.  But I enjoyed the faster, flashier pace in Finlay Donovan Is Killing It.

Because sometimes even country mice need to take a side trip to the city.