Paranormal Mystery
Date Published: August 24, 2021
Publisher: Acorn Publishing
Jamie Whitehall Olivian has received a mysterious letter from her Uncle James. She is named after him, but she has never seen, met, or heard him mentioned in any way. Until now. And he has died and left her his entire estate. But it seems Uncle James wants her to investigate a murder. His, that is. It also seems the estate is contingent upon her acceptance of this commission. Jamie wants no part of the investigation or of the estate. She gets along perfectly well, thank you very much, a fact she emphasizes to his lawyer, who just happens to be gorgeous, making it a little harder to say no. Things take a strange turn when the victim himself asks her to reconsider. For reasons unknown, Uncle James has been unable to depart for the afterlife and is stuck in his Art Deco desk. Jamie decides to take on the job of niece and sleuth, with no experience at either, and she and Uncle James set out to find the killer. They are aided by the lawyer and a not-as-gorgeous and slightly rumpled homicide detective whose interest seems to be more than just finding a murderer.
Excerpt 1
The first I knew of my seeming namesake, James Whitehall Olivian, III, was when I received a frightfully formal letter from Ackbury and Ackbury, attorneys-at-law, summoning me to their office for an unexplained meeting. When I called the office to see if there had been some mistake, a frightfully formal secretary assured me that if I was the daughter of Harold Whittaker Olivian, there was no error and I should arrive promptly at 10:00 A.M. this coming Friday. When I bluntly and succinctly inquired, “Why?” she informed me she was not at liberty to discuss it. My curiosity was piqued, a phrase I’ve always wanted to use, so I agreed and hung up.
Armed with the purse into which I had restuffed the letter, I meandered into the kitchen to make a cup of what I call ‘beige.’ Just enough cocoa powder to tint the milk, and not even a touch of sugar, I like my chocolate on the bitter side. It’s really pretty much warm milk, but I like the pale ecru shade. I carried it back into the living room, purse under my arm. If I happened to meet an intruder on the way, I’d have to cocoa him to death.
Excerpt 2
“Who’s up for dessert?” Rising, I changed the subject.
Dennis followed me, “I’ll help you bring it out.”
Not wanting to make a scene, I gave in and let him accompany me to the kitchen. I expected the third degree. What I didn’t expect was what I got.
With a smothered exclamation I couldn’t translate, Dennis wrapped both arms around me like an anaconda, and, pressing me to the back of the kitchen door, proceeded to kiss me like a man drowning. After a few seconds, I was the one drowning. I had somehow forgotten how to use my lungs, and very quickly my knees followed suit. If he hadn’t been leaning into me with the full Monty, I would have slithered to the floor like that same anaconda.
Finally regaining some sanity, and in desperate need of air, I pushed him slightly away. Only slightly, I’m not crazy – and did a little gasping.
He must have noticed what I had noticed; because his face pinked, and he moved in the dessert direction, clearing his throat. “I guess the plates should go in now.” Giving me a hint of dimple, he added, “Well, you did ask who was up for dessert.”
Excerpt 3
Heedless of danger – as well as bereft of good sense, I leaped to my feet, ran out the door and up the stairs, screaming, “What are you doing to my things?”
The noise stopped, followed by running feet and a ski-masked, dark-clad, figure brushed past me nearly flinging me down the stairs. I clung to the banister, fighting to keep my balance, as the figure ran out the door and disappeared.
My review: Jamie, a fortyish librarian, was now an heiress to some dead guy she never knew but was named after. Her uncle’s last request was: “Find out who was responsible for my death.”
The writing was clever and witty, although it times it was a bit neurotic. The character was amusing in a kooky kind of way, but, at times, it was hard to buy her as a sleuth with the inane commentary, especially when it came to fashion. Obviously, she was a fish out of water. Like she said, it wouldn’t be as easy as the house shouting “MURDER.” Oh, of course not. The mystery was interesting enough. I always like a “who dunnit,” and this story tickles your curiosity.
A nice read overall.
My rating: 3 stars
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