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Aug. 1st, 2010 02:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
TO DIE FOR, by Tessa Barclay.
Cover copy: In London to organize a series of concerts, Greg Crowne - otherwise known as Crown Prince Gregory von Hirtenstein - has befriended a pretty Polish countess, Marzelina. When Marzelina is found dead behind the rolling stacks in the Museum of Music Heritage, Greg is inevitably drawn into the police investigation.
It emerges that Marzelina had been sent to England by an elderly relative, Estelle Wiaroz, a Chopin enthusiast who has learned of the discovery of a lost Chopin manuscript. Armed with a letter of credit, Marzelina had been instructed to buy the scrap of manuscript. Not surprisingly, no sign of the manuscript nor of the letter of credit is found on the body.
It seems that Marzelina and Estelle may be the victims of a complex scam, the unraveling of which will take Greg and his girlfriend Liz Blair to Paris and Scotland on the trail of a thriving Chipin forgery industry...
Gender of detective: male
It's not so much that Greg is a music expert, and the leads are all music-related. That's the way it works with mysteries: you have to have some reason why your detective is the one ferreting out the connections, rather than someone from the police. Unless of course you're writing about a police detective, in which case it's their job, or a private investigator, ditto.
The problem is really that there's nothing in the victim's past, no reason for her to die except the Chopin, not so much as 'whoops, flashed too much cash in front of the wrong person.' Maybe it's just that I'm too used to false leads and red herrings -- but this mono-focus wound up feeling railroaded, with the result of the whole thing ringing a bit false. The writing isn't bad. It's just that her meta-reasoning is showing a bit too clearly.
*
Let's try again on
that whole haiku hour thing.
Yay, I think it worked!
Also, I have had berries and whipped cream. Mariposa is magnificently sprawled out on the couch next to me, fast asleep. Sneak, sneak, sneak, sneak....
Cover copy: In London to organize a series of concerts, Greg Crowne - otherwise known as Crown Prince Gregory von Hirtenstein - has befriended a pretty Polish countess, Marzelina. When Marzelina is found dead behind the rolling stacks in the Museum of Music Heritage, Greg is inevitably drawn into the police investigation.
It emerges that Marzelina had been sent to England by an elderly relative, Estelle Wiaroz, a Chopin enthusiast who has learned of the discovery of a lost Chopin manuscript. Armed with a letter of credit, Marzelina had been instructed to buy the scrap of manuscript. Not surprisingly, no sign of the manuscript nor of the letter of credit is found on the body.
It seems that Marzelina and Estelle may be the victims of a complex scam, the unraveling of which will take Greg and his girlfriend Liz Blair to Paris and Scotland on the trail of a thriving Chipin forgery industry...
Gender of detective: male
It's not so much that Greg is a music expert, and the leads are all music-related. That's the way it works with mysteries: you have to have some reason why your detective is the one ferreting out the connections, rather than someone from the police. Unless of course you're writing about a police detective, in which case it's their job, or a private investigator, ditto.
The problem is really that there's nothing in the victim's past, no reason for her to die except the Chopin, not so much as 'whoops, flashed too much cash in front of the wrong person.' Maybe it's just that I'm too used to false leads and red herrings -- but this mono-focus wound up feeling railroaded, with the result of the whole thing ringing a bit false. The writing isn't bad. It's just that her meta-reasoning is showing a bit too clearly.
*
Let's try again on
that whole haiku hour thing.
Yay, I think it worked!
Also, I have had berries and whipped cream. Mariposa is magnificently sprawled out on the couch next to me, fast asleep. Sneak, sneak, sneak, sneak....