Mystery Monday Review: Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder, by Joanne Fluke

I actually managed to finish a book during my holidays, and even to write a review for all of my patient readers who are not also buried in a tide of socializing (if I worked at it, I bet I could mix my metaphors a little more, but it's been a long week).  It's not holiday themed, but here's my take on the first of Joanne Fluke's Hannah Swensen mysteries.

Summary:
Hannah Swensen runs The Cookie Jar, a bakery in the sleepy town of Lake Eden, Minnesota, and is reasonably content despite her mother's efforts to set her up with every available man in town (there aren't many, fortunately).  But she is less happy when the delivery from the dairy doesn't arrive one morning, and Hannah finds the delivery man dead in his truck in her alley.  He's been shot to death, with a bag of her cookies in the front seat.  Hannah doesn't like it, and she starts hunting the killer, just to help out her brother-in-law, the police detective on the case.

Review:
As the first in the series, this is just good enough to make me want to come back for more.  Hannah is a likeable narrator, her family situation is interesting (if a little stereotypical.  I think I'm going to make the relationship between my sleuth and her mother fully-functional, just to buck the trend), and the murder mystery is pretty well constructed.  But as an amateur sleuth I found Hannah a little less than perfect.  She seemed to me to be a little too quick to investigate on her own, rather than turning her ideas and discoveries over to Bill, the in-law on the Force--and he seems much too willing to forgive her for interference that could lead to no end of troubles in the trail of evidence.  She messes with crime scenes, steals evidence that "doesn't have anything to do with the murder," but would upset someone she cares about, and questions potential witnesses and suspects in a pretty blatant fashion.  All of which is within the range of normal for cozy sleuths, but Bill's connivance at it and acceptance of it is over the top.

Hannah is also very quick to jump to some conclusions, while missing others that seem obvious to me.  In particular, near the end she spots an obvious clue, but more or less ignores it to follow up another red herring.

My final take: interesting, imperfect, and I'll give Fluke a second book to rein in the wilder flights from reality. 


Disclaimer: I checked Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder out from my local public library, and received nothing from the publisher or author in exchange for my honest review.  The opinions expressed herein are my own and those of no one else. 

Flash Fiction 200-word challenge: The conclusion

For the last 5 weeks I've been having fun with the Chuck Wendig 200-word challenge, wherein each writer adds 200 words to a story started by someone else.  This is my 5th and final story.  The project has been both entertaining and educational (in particular, while it is easy to add complications in 200 words, I was unable to conclude this in under 220, and that was with some serious paring down!).  I haven't managed to track all my stories (they're in the side-bar throughout late November and December), but I chose to finish with a holiday tale of a desperate rescue of Santa Claus.

For the record, my original story ("Millions of Cats") is finished here.

A Gifted Wizard

Part 1 by  Andrew Linder - Part 2 by  Caitlin McColl 
Part 3 by - Hana Frank  - Part 4 by Mozette

1.
Mary loved Christmas because it was the comfiest holiday. Sitting on the floor before a modest pile of gilded presents, surrounded by family, sipping hot cocoa—hot cocoa!—she was experiencing true, Christmas bliss. She pet the cat beside her as it nuzzled her knee. Her brother handed her a perfectly wrapped gift. She reached for it, but he yanked it away, laughing. She laughed too. This happened every year. “Mom!” she said, directing her voice toward the kitchen, “Danny’s being a jerk!”

But she snatched the present from him anyway and pulled at the ribbon. 
Then the front door burst open and a gaunt, bearded man in ripped jeans and no shirt stumbled in. He had a large, pointy hat on his head. He glanced around at the startled faces, settling on Mary’s. She knew him, and stuttered, “U-u-uncle Martin?”

He nodded. “There’s magic afoot, niece…You’re a wizard, Mary”. Seeing her confusion, he pointed at the cat. “Look, the cat can talk now.”

She looked down at Bubbles. Bubbles looked up. “Hey,” Bubbles said.

Mary stared. “Hey.”

Uncle Martin pulled a folded up hat, like his own, from his back pocket. “Here! Take this wizard hat and follow me.”

2.
Mary jumped up and with a glance over her shoulder at the confused faces of her family, she followed her uncle out into the crisp fall air. She wondered how he could be wandering around without a shirt when she was wearing a long sleeved sweater. Maybe wizards generated internal heat? "Wait! Hold up!" She jogged to catch up to him. "You can't just throw a crumpled pointy hat from a cheap Halloween costume at someone, make the cat talk, then leave again! I have questions. Lots of them!"

"I'm sure you do," Martin said nodding with brief glance at Mary as he kept walking.

"Like, did everyone else just hear Bubbles talk back then? Or do they think you're crazy for bursting in like that. They probably think I'm crazy now too!"

"No, they can't, just you can. ‘Cuz you're a-"

"You're a wizard Harry!" Mary said in her best mock-Hagrid voice. "I'm not friggin’ Harry Potter, Uncle. I’m a thirty three-year-old nursing student from Portland, not some kid in a story book with a magic wand!” She grabbed Martin’s arm and turned him to face her. “Seriously, Uncle. What’s going on?”

"There's a problem. And we need you." 



3.
"Me?" Mary let go of his arm. "Look, whatever this is about, I'd love to help. Really. But shouldn't you get a more experienced wizard?" 
Martin didn't answer. His eyes were lifted to the sky.  
"Uncle?"


The faint sound of jingling bells made her turn and look up. Huge clouds parted to reveal a team of reindeer pulling a red sled. The animals drifted down, landing beside Mary with the grace of ballet dancers.


The head reindeer nodded at her then jerked its head at the sled. "Hey Marty. We've gotta go. Like right now dude." 


"Mary." Her uncle's voice was a plea. She stood frozen, staring at the reindeer, her fingers crushing the paper wizard hat. 
"The great Wizard Claus needs our help." Martin shook his head. "Something went wrong and now he can't get back into Real Time." 


"Tell her about it on the way dude." This from one of the reindeer at the back.


"Yes. Yes of course." Martin held her arm, gently steered her towards the sled steps. "We've only got an hour left Mary." 


Well, she decided, talking reindeer and a sled were way cooler than the magic cars Harry Potter flew in.

4.
Uncle Martin didn’t wait for her to sit down as he grabbed the reins and snapped them gently, urging the eight reindeer to take flight as gently as they had landed; pushing her back into her seat.

“So, what’s the big emergency you need me for?” she heard herself ask as he steered the team up into the sky and above the cloud cover.  The sun shone blindingly bright and made the cloud tops look like meringues fresh and ready for the oven.

“Well, like Comet said, Santa is stuck in there, he’s lost his way.” He muttered, “And right now, he’s holed up in a psych ward.  He knows who he is, but the doctors are trying to make him not believe…” he looked over at her briefly, “… and you know what will happen if he stops believing in who he is, don’t you?”

Her gut turned cool, “Oh, god… Christmas will disappear forever for all the children around the world.” Her eyes wandered to the reindeer and over the gorgeous sleigh as tears pricked her eyes, “Okay, what do I have to do?”

His eyes glimmered, “Good, you’re with me on this.”


My contribution:
“We’ll break him out,” Marty continued.  “No time for anything else.”

“But I d-don’t kn-know anything about being a wi-wi-wizard.”  She could hardly say that word even if her teeth hadn’t been chattering with the cold wind.

“Yer the decoy, darlin’ girl.”  Comet again.  “Leave the wizardin’ to Marty.”

Of course, it wasn’t quite like that.  Uncle Marty taught her a few spells, though she knew they’d never work.  At the hospital, Mary jumped out and ran in to go distract the employees.  But no one was at the front desk, and a sound of laughter suggested they were partying in a back room.  She kept moving down the long, sterile hall, skidding to a halt before a door labeled “Nicholas.”

She didn’t even pause to knock.  She shouted the unlocking spell at the door, and it flew open, revealing a fat man in a red suit.

“They took my boots, blast them,” he said.  “But these slippers will do.”  The slippers had bunnies on them.

“Come on, then.”  An explosion interrupted her, and the bars on the window blew to bits.  She got Santa shoved through just as the sleigh pulled up underneath, and followed him out, landing in a heap in the back seat as the old man took the reins. 

“Dash away all!” came the shout, and the sleigh showed what it could really do.

A Child's Christmas In Wales

Title:  A Child's Christmas in Wales, by Dylan Thomas, illustrated by Trina Schart Hyman, 47 pages
Publisher: Holiday House, 1985.  Original publisher: New Directions, 1954
Source:  Library

This Christmas classic is worth a read, but a lot depends on the illustrator, as it really is a picture book.  Thomas's poetic prose is beautiful, and evokes a long-past childhood that seems just a little bit magical, with a touch of humor (Auntie Hannah!).  Somehow, over all these years, I'd never actually read this (despite the fact that it took about 20 minutes, tops!), and it's a shame.  I would have enjoyed sharing this with my boys when they were little.

I have to admit that I'm not crazy about the illustrations in the edition I read (the first on the left above).  The landscape and village structures--those are great.  The people are a little odd, though, and kind of scary. I'd like to see the original.  But this is what our library has, so it's what I read.

Wander down to your bookstore, check out the different editions, and pick one that you like to add to your collection of holiday traditional reads!

Disclaimer: I checked A Child's Christmas in Wales out from my local public library, and received nothing from the publisher or author in exchange for my honest review.  The opinions expressed herein are my own and those of no one else. 

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And so. . . A Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!