The Literate Kitty

An aimless but likeable twenty-nine-year-old, currently crashing in someone’s garage during another sweltering Texas summer.   (And not a pimped-out one, either; he’s crammed in with a bunch of stuff the owner stores there.) The problem is, jobs have never really stuck with him, so for years he’s just been floating from one situation to the next, smoking blunt after blunt and hooking up with other attractive men and beautiful women at every opportunity. But one day his casual, wake-and-bake lifestyle is thrown for a loop by a stranger’s arrival... a lawyer, who brusquely informs him that he’s the sole heir to his uncle’s fortune.  And that he needs to go to Austin (a place he’s never been)  right now , to claim it. Full of questions without answers, Peter Key can’t begin to imagine the dangers awaiting him, in the debut of Jack Friday’s new unlikely-sleuth series,  Killer Vibes .   The first question Peter has is why him? He’d only met Uncle Forrest a handful of...

When Olivia Blunt—assistant to the World’s Greatest Detective—spies a reunion invitation in boss Aubrey Merritt’s office mail, she’s ecstatic. Surely her stern boss will jump at the chance to hang out—and maybe even let loose a little—with the sorority sisters she hasn’t seen in four decades... right? Instead, the older woman promptly dashes Olivia’s hopes, declaring she most definitely does  not  plan to attend such annoying silliness. Several days later—after a visit from the husband of an old sorority friend—Merritt has changed her tune, though... and expects Olivia to accompany her. Why? Because the man’s wife—a retired Brigadier General who surely made many enemies during her career—is hosting the reunion at their New Mexico ranch... and has received a death threat. Handwritten, on the back of one of the invitations. And just like that, the unlikely detective and her (still frequently-disappointing) assistant are desert-bound, in Liza Tully’s follow-up to last year’s firs...

There are many “constants” in life—things you can rely on to happen or to be true.   One is that whenever there’s a widespread emergency—courtesy of either man or Mother Nature—two types of people will show up. The first are those there to help. Doesn’t matter if they’ve personally been affected or not, they want to do good. The second type are those solely there to take advantage of a bad situation.  Both play their parts in Joshua Moehling’s latest mystery,  Beneath a Broken Sky .   If you’ve ever had the terrible misfortune to be  in  a tornado—or even just to be  near  one—then you  know . You know the unbelievable sight of roofs blown off, outbuildings and lawn furniture sent pinwheeling who knows where... or whole buildings blown to smithereens. You understand the devastation of downed power lines everywhere you want to go... and of decades’—or  centuries’ —old trees, shattered and broken beyond what your heart can comprehend. When...

What do you get when you pair a flunked-out-of-K-9-school-(on-his-final-test, no less) dog with a former-military-guy-(with-plenty-of-skills)?  If you guessed “the most delightful detecting duo in the desert” ( or maybe anywhere! ), then you’re on the right track.  (But if not, no worries—until the latest entry in Spencer Quinn’s long-running “Chet & Bernie Mystery” series,  Cat on a Hot Tin Woof , I’d never had the pleasure of spending time with these two, either.)     Things are going pretty well for both members of the Little Detective Agency. Bernie is engaged to police sergeant Weatherly, and Chet, well... even if he’s still unsure about Weatherly’s dog, is always happy when Bernie’s happy.   They’ve also seen a recent uptick in business, after solving a highly-publicized case. ( Great news for the treat jar! ) Unfortunately, much of that business is still divorce work, which Bernie, in particular, hates.  So, when a teenage girl and her ...

There’s something that feels really...   squicky , about leaving a negative review. Regardless of what the something being reviewed   is , any unflattering remarks reflect poorly on someone’s service, skills, manners, or—in the case of a book—their art... and that’s a hard thing to do (let alone, be the recipient of).   Nonetheless, a not-so-great review has a purpose. It’s essentially a warning sign, letting others know to proceed with caution (and why).   So consider this, at best, a triangular yellow yield sign... to stop, and look both ways, before proceeding with Hazell Ward’s  The Game is Murder .     From the synopsis, it sounded like a slam dunk.  There were comparisons to Netflix’s  Glass Onion  and Agatha Christie. The promise of “razor-sharp twists” and “sly misdirection”. It’s also a period piece—set in the 1970s—which, in theory, put a cool, interesting spin on things.   And, perhaps the most enticing, was the novelty o...

If there’s one type of person people should reconsider messing with, it’s a midlife woman who's  come into her own, at last. Take Mrs. Muriel Blossom. At 68, she’s already lived two-thirds of her life.     She’s been a wife, a mother, and a working woman... and now, after nearly 40 years of marriage, she’s a retired widow.   She’s also the recent holder of a winning lottery ticket, the payout of which has vastly improved the prospect of her golden years.  Finally,  she’ll be able to see the world... something the homebody Mr. Blossom sadly never had any inkling to do.   But, while Mrs. Blossom has never been one to attract a lot of attention— particularly not from the opposite sex! —she suddenly finds herself in a full-blown, real-life, torn-from-a-movie-script plotline.    On a fancy cruise ship, traversing the Seine, with eligible men seemingly coming out of the woodwork [cue a deliriously-raucous rendition of  “It’s raining men... hal...

  There are milestones, and then there are...well,   milestones .   Most of us likely share the same ones—no matter what order they actually occur.   First kiss. Losing our virginity. Getting a driver’s license. Graduating. Getting our own place. Getting married (or entering  some  type of long-term relationship).    And then, there are birthdays. Perhaps the biggest milestones, of all... despite the meaninglessness one day actually makes, of course. From 29 to 30... 39 to 40... 49 to 50 (etc.).   For whatever reason(s), we’ve somehow arbitrarily agreed that the beginning of a new decade signals a new Big Scary Awful.    And it’s with  that  looming in her mind— the impossible idea of turning 50(!!) —that TV newswoman Clare Carlson happens upon an equally-explosive story, in R.G. Belsky’s latest entry in the series,  Broadcast Blues .     When Clare hears that some sort of explosive detonated in a car in Man...

Most people, I’ve always figured, aren’t like me… because it’s far more common to get into some kinda groove semi-early in life and “settle down” (the marriage/partnership, kids and/or furbabies, a couple cars, and a mortgage)… all of which involves, staying put . And that means—whether you really want to, or not—getting to know your neighbors (at least a little bit). But, even if you don’t invite each other over for backyard barbecues or babysit the others’ kids, most people who live that traditional lifestyle tend to see their neighbors enough to make reasonable assumptions about them. Things like, “ they’re good people (or not) ”, or “ she’s really funny but her wife is a total beyotch ”, or maybe “ wow, they're the best parents, ever, and I’d give anything to be like them ”.  Rarely, though—again, just guessing, here—does anyone ever think to themselves, “I bet that guy’s totally a murderer”. [I mean, property values wouldn’t do well with those kinda thoughts, now, would ...

Ask anyone who their favorite fictional private eye is, and you’ll find you’ve cast a pretty wide net—granted, one in which some of the same, bigger, fish show up again and again—but ask for their favorite detecting duo , and the resulting catch will likely be noticeably smaller. [Not that the latter won’t also include some repeats; great writing and plotting, as in blood, will always out.] Me? Honestly, for my all-time faves, I’m torn between a couple of dynamic, modern duos [which sounds way too superhero-y for this particular discussion, but here we are]: Lynley and Havers (from the mighty pen of Elizabeth George), and Robert Galbraith (aka J.K. Rowling)’s Strike and Robin. [Yes, I know, I know . Technically, I should call her “Ellacott”, because a) “and Robin” also skews way too superhero-y, and b) going with last names would be tidier, but… to me, she’s Robin, because she feels more like a good friend. <insert shrugging emoticon here>] So, now that I finally got around t...