Murder Takes a Vacation, by Laura Lippman (REVIEW) -- Murder's No Match for a Midlife Woman

If there’s one type of person whom others should reconsider messing with, it’s a midlife woman who has finally, at long last, come into her own...

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—and very, very lucky—holder of a winning lottery ticket, 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... hallelujah!”]... and murder.

 

Because sometimes—at least, in the hands of NYT bestselling author, Laura Lippman—Murder Takes a Vacation.

 

 

Mrs. Blossom, when pondering her first big splurge—an elegant river cruise through France—pictured things a certain way. On deck, drinking wine and cocktails with her lifelong BFF, Elinor. Taking day trips to interesting old towns along the way. Eating in charming cafes.

 

What she most definitely didn’t picture was Allan, her debonair seatmate on the plane from Baltimore to Europe... who, wonder of wonders, seemed utterly fascinated with her. (Muriel had never been what anyone apparently considered “a looker”. Well, aside from the late Mr. Blossom, of course.)

 

And even more shocking? That Muriel should find herself equally attracted to him... the first man she’d thought about in romantic terms, in the decade since she’d been widowed.

 

Yet a mere whirlwind day later—after a whole kerfuffle involving a (contraband) sleep gummy that caused her to miss her connecting flight, and instead, to spend a delightful day with him in London—the oh-so-appealing Allan is... gone.

 

Gone-gone, as in dead.

 

And Mrs. Blossom doesn’t know what to think... or where to turn for answers.

 

Certainly not the annoying—always right there, whenever she turns around—younger man, Danny... who claims to be an FBI agent, and keeps trying to grill Mrs. Blossom about what Allan was doing. (As if she would know, hmph!)

 

And not the wealthy man onboard whom Elinor is enamored of... or his elderly sister, whose cabin is robbed while she’s in it.

 

Something is definitely “going on”... but what no one understands is that it’s precisely Mrs. Blossom’s ability to fade into the background—to attract zero attention to herself—which made her, on many occasions, a useful assistant (to Baltimore P.I., Tess Monaghan)... and which may now, with some luck, give her an edge in sussing out what’s really happening.

 

Because no one messes with Mrs. Blossom—or her friends, or even her potential friends—and gets away with it. 

 

 

Have you ever read a book and instantly connected with one of the characters? Wished it were a real person, someone you could actually hang out with?

 

Mrs. Blossom is like that, for me. 

 

Sure, she’s a fair bit older than me—although closer to much-older-sister, than mother—and no, we’re not terribly similar. Our lives, our experiences, have been quite different. 

 

Yet in ways that really matter, we’re alike... because I, like Mrs. Blossom, have come storming into my own, as a midlife woman.

 

Both are determined to find our own paths, make our own choices, and live exciting lives that please us.

 

We’re very intelligent... yet fully aware we’ll still make plenty of mistakes (which is perfectly okay). 

 

Consistently an excellent storyteller, Lippman takes a fascinating little segue from her popular Tess Monaghan private-eye series, in Murder Takes a Vacation.

 

Mrs. Blossom was only ever a minor character, an assistant Monaghan used occasionally. Innocuous, in the way that middle-aged women so often find themselves being treated.

 

Here, though, Muriel Blossom is brought to vivid, colorful life... a large (plus-size) woman, who suddenly realizes she now has the means and opportunity to live the larger life she always wanted.

 

Lippman shows great sensitivity with regard to Mrs. Blossom—we feel her fears and uncertainty, and experience some of the pain, embarrassment, and awkwardness she’s endured. [Lippman actually addresses some of this in the afterword, which was lovely to read.]

 

Is Mrs. Blossom the hot, sexy, midlife woman bent on buying herself a whole new life (as though it were a designer wardrobe or a sports car), popular in so many books? Hardly. But she is an extremely-relatable woman that most of us—particularly in that mid-portion of life—can probably identify with.

 

And she’s pretty gosh-darn likable, to boot. (In a spunky grandmotherly sort of way... which is exactly what she is.)

 

Murder Takes a Vacation is a great little mystery, set in a picturesque locale, with an unusual heroine. If you’re looking for a surprising and fun read, this would make a fine choice. (Vacation of your own not required.)

 

~GlamKitty

[My sincere thanks to William Morrow, for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are, as always, entirely my own.]

The Paris Widow, by Kimberly Belle (Thriller REVIEW) -- The Dangerous Secrets Spouses Keep

When two people get married, they--at least, ideally--feel they know each other pretty well. 

Their likes and dislikes. What makes them laugh, and the things that make them sad or upset. Their habits and eccentricities.

 

But how well do we ever really know another person? There’s always something we’re holding back... something embarrassing, that we’re ashamed of, or that we simply know our partner wouldn’t be cool with.

 

That’s normal.

 

The thing is, there are little, unimportant secrets... and then, there are deep, dark, hidden things that have the power to change everything we thought we knew.

 

Kimberly Belle delivers a tempting souffle of the latter variety, in The Paris Widow.

 

 

From the moment Stella and Adam had their meet-cute, it seemed they were meant to be together.

 A quiet, calm guy—who nerded out over the cool old architectural interior treatments he found and sold to his wealthy clients—Adam fell hard for Stella’s vibrant, fun personality and was thrilled by their mutual love of travel.

 

And Stella? She appreciated the sense of normalcy and steadiness which Adam brought to her previously topsy-turvy life.

 

Until one day, when their happy, normal life was shattered, in a matter of seconds.

 

In the middle of their idyllic Paris vacation, an explosion rocked the little café where they’d just eaten... and which Adam had run back to, after realizing enroute to their hotel that he’d left his sunglasses behind.

 

It wasn’t until Stella couldn’t reach him on his phone, though, that panic started to creep in. Had Adam been at the restaurant, or nearby, during the explosion? Her brain refused to believe it.

 

Hours later, Stella tried to comprehend how her husband could just be gone. No traces of him among the dead, or among the injured.

 

Days passed with no news for “The Paris Widow”, as the media called her... until one day, when the French investigator in charge of the case stopped by to drop (another) bombshell on her.

 

He explained that a police task force had been watching Adam for years... as someone they suspected of making millions of dollars dealing in stolen antiquities on the black market.

 

As much as Stella couldn’t wrap her brain around the idea her husband was dead, or even just missing, she definitely couldn’t believe he was... what, this criminal mastermind, hawking priceless, pilfered treasures to ruthless billionaire collectors??

 

Determined not only to find Adam—or at least find out what happened to him—Stella vowed to clear his name. 

 

But soon she had to consider there might be at least some truth to police suspicions, when she realized she was being followed.

 

And drawing on her own checkered past—the one her husband knew nothing about—might well be the only way to survive.

 

 

I made a point to save The Paris Widow for my trip to Paris. (How appropriate, ne c’est pas?)

 

And what fun it was, reading about neighborhoods and landmarks I was seeing, firsthand! Belle leads the reader on a colorful path all around Paris, as Stella seeks answers. 

 

The characters—especially Stella and Adam—are compelling and relatable, and the subject matter—the illegal acquiring and selling of rare, precious artifacts—a serious one, with far-reaching ramifications.

 

There’s some fine suspense at play, too, in the gradual revealing of who (is behind everything), what (really happened), why (actions were taken), and how (Stella is gonna get out alive).

 

The Paris Widow is a fast-paced thrill ride that I absolutely raced through. 

 

Regardless of whether or not you’ve got a jaunt to The City of Lights planned, if you’re looking for a fast-paced read set in an historic, glamorous locale, you should seriously consider picking this one up. 

 

~GlamKitty

A First-Timer's Impressions of París! (Or, "reviewing" the City of Lights as a Newbie)

Bonjour!

 

(Passport stamp from Charles de Gaulle)

I’ve been back home from my first ever trip to Paris for a few days, but already, a little part of me wonders if it was all just a dream. 

Was I really, truly there? Did I see those historic places, see those works of art, eat those foods?

 

[To be fair, the brutal head cold that sunk its viral little claws into me whilst across the Big Pond is probably to blame for any brain fog...]

 

Anyway, my photos (and American Express card) prove that I really, truly was there, and I have thoughts...

 

 

(Notre Dame- refurbs in progress)

First, Paris is a city of beige. 

 

[Yes, I know, that doesn't sound great. 😅 Stay with me, here!]

 

It’s a city full of tall, old, beige buildings... a great many of which are decorated with beautiful wrought-iron balconies (some merely decorative, others usable) or stained glass, and often jazzed up with greenery and flowers.

 

So in this case, “beige” isn’t bad (bland, boring, or vanilla); rather, it’s a perfect background that allows the colorful ironwork and plants to shine, and which the sunlight dapples and brings to impressionistic life. 

 

(Because you can't have a Paris post without this shot!)

Paris is also a city of cobblestones... so many cobblestones. (How very many there are actually surprised me.) Love that. 

Luckily, I read up on Paris beforehand, so I knew what to expect.

High heels are a rarity in Paris... partly because it's a "walking city", where you can easily walk miles on any given day,  but also because of all those cobblestones. Lower shoes--make that, comfy lower shoes--are de rigeur.

(Cobblestone street outside my hotel)

 
[Pro tip: Make sure your hotel room isn’t directly over a cobblestoned street, because unless you’re blessed with the ability to sleep the sleep of the dead, the sound of vehicles jolting over those rough stones all night WILL KEEP YOU UP ALL NIGHT.]

 

(Beautiful solo dinner at 9:30pm)

And then there are the people. While I never bought into the whole “French people are so rude” message we've had drilled into us [thanks to all those TV shows and movies, over the years], I was delighted to experience how very inaccurate it really is. 

 

I found the French people much as people everywhere else I’ve been—if you’re friendly, leading with politeness, respect, and kindness—the French will unfailingly meet you with the very same. I received genuine smiles and warmth wherever I went. People were lovely to me.

 

[Pro tip: Please don't lead with a brash, “important-American-in-a-hurry” sort of vibe—not trying to fit in or follow appropriate etiquette. Such attitude will get you nowhere... nor should it.]

(Even bridges are works of art, in Paris)

Paris is FULL of art... everywhere, not just in its fabulous museums. Paintings, sculptures, street art, you name it. Art feels like a part of everyday life there... and I can't imagine a better way to live.

(One of my fave pieces of street art... see the reading girl? 💖) 

Oh, and speaking of books? Paris is FULL of bookstores! Around each corner, down every little side street, in stalls on walkways. Rows upon rows of beautiful books. (It really made me wish I spoke/could read French. Goals, n'est ce pas?) 

(Jardin du Luxembourg is stunning)

The city is also blessed with an abundance of gorgeous green spaces. You can find tree-lined streets in most of the arrondissements, and parks of all sizes, everywhere. Nature, like art, is simply a fact of life there.

 

Another thing I'm going to say is a "must"--certainly, for anyone who loves live music!--is to visit one of the city's many jazz clubs. The one I wound up going to--in an underground cavern--was packed [so much so that I'm absolutely positive no "maximum occupancy" building codes were being enforced!], and the vibe was happy, excited, and friendly. 

(Jazz club in an underground cavern!)

Also--in a very "small world" kind of way--two of the musicians that night were actually from the States (one from Ohio, and the other from Tennessee), and I talked to a couple from Indiana. It all felt serendipitous... as does so much of the traveling I've done. 

(Gorgeous patisseries are everywhere!)

There are so many things I’d love to explore in (and around) Paris. Things I didn’t get to do, because you can only cram so many things into one trip. (Same, if much of your limited time there also involves taking the plans or tastes of others—friends, family—into account.)

 

My biggest takeaways? There is so much magic to be found in Paris... and no doubt, all over France. For a first visit, I think it's best to try and get a broad overview—learning the culture, enjoying the pace, soaking in the history and personality of this sparkling city—while making mental special note of other things you really want to see and do, in future.

 

(Delighted by art at the Musee d'Orsay)

Because Paris? Definitely isn't a “one-and-done” kind of place.

 

Au revoir for now, París. Until I see you again...

 

~GlamKitty (or "Chaton Glamour", oui? 😽)