I've had a like/hate relationship with these little books, but this one pushed me right over the forward slash from the "e" in like face-first into hate. HATE. This was a miserable reading experience, and I don't think I'll read these any more.
Here's what I liked about other books in the series: the town, loosely resembling Milford, NH, but mostly populated with bookstores; what the author would probably call "alternative lifestyles" being explored through some of its characters: freegans, ex-cons, etc.; dramatic, as far as cozies go, mysteries with a bit of danger; people patiently explaining to the judgmental main character what a horrible person she is, without saying it.
Here's what I hated: the extremely judgmental main character, her relationships, anything that didn't have to do with the bookstore. And that's this book. It is ENTIRELY about Tricia, her disgusting attitude, her relationships, and very little time spent in the bookstore. After the initial murder, literally nothing happens over the next 300 pages except for three men falling all over Tricia for no reason and wondering who is going to be elected president of the Chamber of Commerce. High drama, folks. Tricia hates Pixie's tacky Christmas decorating style, she seems to think recycling is pointless, and she generally complains about everything. It's so tiresome.
Angelica, Tricia's sister, calls her "stuffy," which I appreciated, but Tricia pouts so much about it, it feels like I'm supposed to sympathize with her and her horrible, gross, judgmental attitude. Tricia loosens up a bit, ordering an extra drink or a dinner that isn't simply a salad, but it's not enough. She rolls her eyes, either literally or figuratively, on practically every third page.
Here are some of her greatest (read: worst) hits:
1. Pixie: "It's a condition of my parole that I not frequent businesses that serve alcohol. Just in case I'm tempted to... you know."
Tricia: Take up her old life as a prostitute? Yes, Tricia could see the danger frequenting a bar might pose.
[Me: Oh my god. Yes, one drink and you become a WHORE.]
2. Tricia took a tiny sip of her drink. It was watered down, as most restaurant drinks seem to be.
3. Couldn't Pixie see the items in the box for what they were -- someone else's cast offs? [Me: OH MY GOD. Tricia's parents were stuffy assholes, and Tricia hates them for it, yet she, herself, is a stuffy asshole.]
4. The way she kept nodding, Frannie seemed to be imitating a bobblehead.
5. This attractive, well-dressed--and well-spoken--young man didn't look the worse for wear for being brought up by a single mother. And he didn't sound all that bitter about his experience, either. [Me: OH MY FUCKING GOD. Yes, most men brought up by single mothers are ugly, wear rags, and can't speak no English very good. Are you kidding me? And she just met the man. Why would he complain to someone he just met about his upbringing? Oh, probably because sour-ass Tricia totally would herself.]
6. No, this tree was elegant. Pixie was willing to settle for bright and gaudy. [Me: LEAVE IT ALONE.]
7. Tricia: "The fact that we're talking fact and not fiction makes no difference to me." [Me: Tricia is borderline sociopathic about finding dead bodies at this point. Literally no one cares that someone is killed. Why should I care who did it?]
8: Tricia: "What would make women pose for these demaning kinds of publications?
Angelica: "Let's see... to pay the rent? Put food on the table? Maybe it was a chance for them to feel sexy?" [Me: This is one of the few scenarios in the book where someone actually calls Tricia out on her judgmental bullshit.]
9. Tricia found herself getting antsy. What if Angelica won? Would she be so busy she'd have no time for Tricia? [Me: Yes, Tricia is turning Angelica's Chamber president bid into something all about her. Literally four pages ago, Angelica called Tricia early in the morning, and Tricia told her to go away because it was too early for her to be awake.]
I did like how, after finding a dead body in a bathroom, Tricia is disappointed for not bringing a book with her to occupy herself while waiting for the police. I'd probably think the same thing. And I liked a line about how just because two New Hampshire towns might just be 15 miles apart, it could take a freaking hour to get between them because of the state's circuitous highway system.