My rating: 2 of 5 stars
I read this book. I find it difficult to say much more about it. It’s crime fiction of a sort. The protagonist is a middle-aged courtesan who plays amateur detective, but Miss Marples or Hercule Poirot she is not. There’s a murder, but it’s not a murder mystery in the sense that the author leaves clues lying around for the reader to pick up. The protagonist solves the crimes by her brilliant intuition by a process that is opaque to the reader, and left me feeling “So that’s whodunit. So what?”
I wonder if this is really an example of the genre known as “chicklit”. When I look at Good Reads’s “compare books” function I can see that I score pretty low on appreciation of chicklit. So I think I’ll steer clear of Fyfield in future, unless I’m really desperate.