Sick of Shadows, M.C. Beaton
I’m not sure what there’s even left to say about these books. The first two just about cover it: characters who we’re told are intelligent behaving like idiots, coincidences, despicable families who are at this point losing all vestiges of sympatheticness because they’re just that callous…
It’s still kind of fun, in that really light way, but I wouldn’t have bought it or the last book on the strength of the first two; I only read them because I owned them. I really didn’t enjoy the Agatha Raisin books, and while it turns out Snobbery with Violence was a bit more fun than those for me, I think it was more by contrast and good timing.
And yes, you’re probably going to see pretty much this review again when I get round to reviewing Our Lady of Pain.
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