Skip to main content

Bones to Pick by Carolyn Haines: A review

Bones To Pick (Southern Belle Mysteries)Bones To Pick by Carolyn Haines
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I felt the need of something light and fluffy to read as an antidote to the winter doldrums. There's not much that is lighter or fluffier than Carolyn Haines' Southern Belle mystery series. I have been occasionally reading the entries in this series for a while, maybe one or two a year, and so I decided to grab the next one, Bones To Pick, and settle down for a cozy reading experience.

Sarah Booth Delaney had failed in her attempts to break into the acting profession in New York and had returned home to the Mississippi Delta town of Zinnia about a year ago. Since then, she has stolen her best friend's dog, decided to become a private investigator, set up a PI business with her best friend as partner, engaged in a series of hot and heavy short-term romances, fallen in love with the (married) county sheriff, solved several murders, saved the family home from bank foreclosure, and acquired a horse and a hound. Yes, it has been a busy year.

Dahlia House, the Delaney family home, has a ghost - a haint, to use the proper Southern expression - named Jitty. In life, she was the nanny of Sarah Booth's great-great-grandmother; in death, as a haint, she is Sarah Booth's boon companion who dresses in period costumes and watches over her, never leaving the family home. She gives Sarah Booth raunchy advice on her love life which is Jitty's main concern. She is very anxious for Sarah Booth to get married and start reproducing so that there is another generation of Delaneys to keep Dahlia House going.

Now, Sarah Booth is called to the scene of a brutal murder. A young woman had her face pushed into the mud in a cotton field and was held there until she smothered - this after having been hogtied and dragged for a distance behind a pickup.

The murder victim, it turns out, is the author of a recently published tell-all memoir that named names and told the dirty little secrets of some of the most prominent and powerful families in the Delta, any one of whom would have been happy to see her dead. The list of potential suspects is long.

The night before the victim was murdered, she had had a very loud, heated, and public argument with her partner at the local watering hole. On scant evidence, her life partner, a woman named Allison, is arrested on suspicion of her murder. Allison's parents have disowned her because of what they consider to be her scandalous life, but her brother, Humphrey, hires Sarah Booth to prove his sister's innocence.

Sarah Booth and her friend and partner, Tinkie, proceed with their typical convoluted investigation, which mostly involves visiting local clubs, bars, and restaurants and talking smack with the patrons. As usual they utilize the services of their good friend, the local newspaper's transexual society columnist, CeCe. The trio's conversations are all bitchy good fun as they dish the dirt on the local high and mighty members of society, one of whom may be a murderer.

Almost by accident, Sarah Booth and Tinkie uncover the information that the murder victim had received threatening notes, and then, additionally, they stumble upon the fact that other people who had died "accidentally" had received similar notes before their deaths. Is there a serial murderer loose in the Delta?

At length, the investigators discover that all of these victims were linked in some way to a school for young ladies, the Carrington School, that specializes in turning out the perfect Southern Belles to cater to their well-born husbands' every desire. And, surprise, surprise, the headmistress of the school is in town for the wake and funeral of the murder victim, one of her "girls." Hmm...I wonder if there could be a connection.

As usual, there is a lot of angst going on in both Sarah Booth's and Tinkie's personal lives, as they attempt to solve yet another murder. But we know how all of this is going to end - with their fledgling detective agency wreathed in clouds of glory once again. Reading these books is a guilty pleasure of mine, but the emphasis is on pleasure.





View all my reviews

Comments

  1. Sounds like perfectly fluffy and yet entertaining reading!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It was just the cotton candy that I needed at this time.

      Delete
  2. I love comfort reads, for me is usually Susanna Kearsley.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I haven't read Kearsley, but I'll have to check her out.

      Delete
  3. Thank you for sharing this

    ReplyDelete
  4. Ms. Haines writes what she knows. She is a Southern gal herself and has amassed quite a fan club, mainly Southerners, I believe. I reviewed one of her books a few years back on my blog, and she actually commented on it. I wouldn't be surprised if she does the same for your review, which is quite good.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I had the same experience on a previous book of hers that I had reviewed. She made a very nice comment. You are correct, I think, in that she writes what she knows. I know a lot of those people, too!

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters!  Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...