The Case of the Curious Cook
by Cathy Ace
The Case of the Curious Cook rather stumbled along for me until about halfway through. At that point the mystery took off and the characters gained new life. I enjoyed the occasional Briticism, the many Welsh references, and the view of upper crust life. I was particularly pleased with the conclusion of the book, giving a glimpse into the future for the characters as well as resolution to the several entwined mysteries. My reservations about The Case of the Curious Cook stem from my reading this book as a standalone. My enjoyment would have been much enhanced by a better introduction to the characters, which probably occurred in the first two books of the WISE Enquiries Agency Series.
The mystery centers around the murder of an artist by her brother, the unexplained and unwelcome donation of books, the discovery of miniatures, and strange occurrences at a retirement home. The plot and setting are excellent and the pace is quick in the last half of the book. I probably would like the main characters, a diverse group to be sure, if I felt I knew them better. I did appreciate their concern for each other and their efforts to work together respecting each other’s strengths.
I would like to extend my thanks to netgalley.com and to Severn House for giving me the opportunity to read this book in exchange for an honest review.
Notes: Should be read as part of the series
Publication: March 1, 2017–Severn House
Even when he was cleansed, shaved, moisturized and dressed, he still felt grubby; that was how anger made him feel–as though he was rolling around in the filth where he’d been raised.
Your mid-sixties was a time when activities like working, traveling, and even hiking and hillwalking were still real possibilities, and when there were still enough years ahead of a person for them to make plans.
It became increasingly clear Mountain Ash House was filled with widows whose children were either non-existent (rare), living too far away to visit often (more likely), or happy to ignore them (too frequent).
You can’t take books to the dump. They aren’t something you just dispose of like so much rubbish. A book means something. It does. Someone wrote it, printed it, bound it–not to mention the ones who read them, held them and maybe cried into them. I love books I do, they’ve all had a life–like a person.