I read cozy and historical mysteries, a bit of Paranormal/UF, and to mix it up, I read science and gardening books on occasion.
A bucket full of meh.
It's been 5 books now, since Amory decided to take her rogue of a husband back, and frankly, I'm sick and tired of wallowing with her in her anxiety about her marriage. Trust him or don't; keep him or kick him out; fish or cut bait. I don't actually care either way, though I suspect the series would be a lot better without her lifeless husband around. That's right: the 'rogue', the ladies man apparently nobody can resist, is about as exciting as white paint.
The mystery this time around wasn't enough to distract me from the angst, as it was set in a theatre (which trope never appeals to me), and the mystery might have been clever, except it was just too ridiculous. The author set her plot for stun, but over geared it and overshot the mark, landing somewhere in between incredulous and you've-got-to-be-kidding-me.
It's not a bad book, it's just not a very good one either. Everything about it felt like an example of stretching a point too far. The series started strong, so this might just be the runt of the litter and the next one will improve. But I'm not rushing out to buy it.
I read this for the Halloween Bingo square Darkest London.