Lazy writing, poor editing, flaccid filler posing as dialogue, characters as limp as overcooked macaroni and about as appealing.
Joanne Fluke is a good writer with a very readable style, but "Cinnamon Roll Murder" is clearly riding on the laurels of the series' popularity.
The premise sounded good, and the first paragraph (I always try to check for that "grabber") showed promise. Hannah bakes goodies for the jazz band Cinnamon Roll Six, the tour bus overturns on its way to town, and the mysterious keyboard player is murdered in the hospital emergency room. I was even willing to overlook the fact that Cinnamon Roll Six is the lamest name ever for a band whose musicians are over the age of ten. However, after I swiped my debit card for the $15 for the book, I found that the promise fizzled quickly.
In the first few pages, baker Hannah and her sister Michelle are on their way to bring freshly-baked cinnamon rolls to the jazz festival. Alas, it's snowing and there is a highway pile-up. Hannah and Michelle rush to the aid of an overturned bus, which is eerily silent. Is everybody dead? Nope. Instead of scrambling to get out of the upside-down bus, the band members and groupies are sitting around inside as casually as if they're gathered backstage after a concert. Despite the fact that the keyboard player has a possibly broken wrist (the groupie who used to work in a doctor's office splinted it), he flirts with Michelle. The band makes casual introductions. And by the way, the bus driver is dead. This was when I realized the author didn't care enough to make the scene realistic, and therefore I didn't care enough about the book to want to continue reading. And that was before Page 16. The $15 I paid was pretty much the only motivation I had in forcing myself to read the rest.
For a murder mystery, the murder didn't seem to play much of a role in the story. In fact, it seemed to be touched upon as an afterthought. Much of the dialogue is little more than filler. And there's way too much about the love triangle that made no sense anyway. (The two guys Hannah loves have become best friends? Seriously?) I admit to being only a sporadic reader of the series, but there is more the author could have done to make the characterization richer even in book #15 of a series. If I cared one iota about Hannah, I'd tell her to kick both of those boys to the curb. They're both pinheads. But so is she (at least in this novel), and they can all have each other.
And there must be an age gap of decades stretching between Hannah and her two sisters. Little sister Michelle is in constant need of protection (how old is she - 10?), and then there's the pantsuit-wearing Andrea. Pantsuits? Hillary Clinton wears pantsuits. Isn't Andrea a wee bit younger?
The biggest onus, though, is on the publisher, and not just for putting this piece of laziness into print. Early on, when the characters are in the hospital emergency room after the bus accident, Hannah tells her mother, "The driver's dead, but everyone else seems to be okay except the keyboard player." (As if it matters what instrument the victim plays in the band after a horrific accident and death). Then a few paragraphs later, Hannah accidentally makes a verbal slip and must admit to her mother that the driver is dead. Even if the author missed this glaring error, nobody else caught it? Not the editor, proofreader, or anyone else? Additionally, on page 102 of the edition I have, "but" is misspelled as "bu," on page 103 "store" is misspelled as "sore," and on page 239 "singing" was misspelled as "signing." And those are just the errors I caught. This is unforgivable and discouraging, especially since this is far from the first instance of sloppy editing/proofreading I've caught in published books in the past year.
The bright, shining star and saving grace of this book is the smattering of recipes throughout. They look truly yummy. Before I dump this book at Goodwill, I'm copying some of those recipes down. The ones for Stuffin' Muffins and Piggy Chicken look particularly scrumptious.