Cozies by nature are rather simplistic, light, and formulaic, which may or may not appeal to every reader. Personally, I can enjoy a cozy for what it is, particularly if it is well-written and the characters are engaging.
This particular cozy reminded me of a low-budget production I might find myself watching on Nickelodeon with my kids. The characters were cliche, the plot unsophisticated, and the writing only so-so. Too many times, the story and the characters were just downright silly. This book was also about 75% dialogue, which might not have been a bad thing if the dialogue had been better.
That said, the book had a few redeeming qualities. For one, I liked the main character Cat, mother of four, and her sidekick, Annie Mae, sassy widower with a PhD. They are fun and relateable. I also thought the parallel mysteries, Lucy's murder and Cat's father's murder, were adequately done.
It wasn't awful, but it could have been so much better. At times the writing came awfully close to sounding amateurish. Things like "I wiped tears with the back of my hand. My taste buds wretched with sour bile. I tensed with raw nerves as a chill ran down my spine. And yet, I felt numb," or "I darted my eyes around..." There was lots of looking, shrugging, and deep breathing kind of thing as well.
Overall, not impressive, though enough to make you care about the main characters, even if they do behave outrageously.