Death by Irish Coffee by Alex Erickson
Published by Kensington Cozies — many thanks to them and NetGalley for the gifted ARC in exchange for my honest, mildly caffeinated thoughts.
Book fifteen. Fifteen! And yet somehow, this series still manages to pull a rabbit out of its plaid-lined, murder-mystery hat and serve it up fresh with a side of cinnamon-sprinkled intrigue. Death by Irish Coffee finds Krissy Hancock, Pine Hills’ unofficial detective-slash-bookstore café owner, knee-deep in another cozy crisis. Only this time, she’s mixing caffeine with St. Patrick’s Day shenanigans—and let me tell you, someone’s luck runs out real fast.
Krissy, ever the multitasker, is trying to plan a wedding, house hunt, AND run Death by Coffee while still managing to look human without mainlining espresso. To add to the chaos, she partners up with Bucky, the new bar owner in town, for a festive Irish Coffee collaboration. It’s a great idea—until Bucky drops dead, quite literally, the day after the party. And no, he didn’t just drink too much green beer and call it a night. This death has mystery written all over it—and when the police start shrugging their shoulders, Krissy rolls up her sleeves and grabs her investigative latte.
Now, if you’re thinking, “Does Krissy ever not find a body?” the answer is: not if she can help it. But that’s the charm of this series. Like a reliable friend who always has the tea (or in this case, the dark roast), Krissy doesn’t back down when something smells off—and this time, it’s not the Irish whiskey.
What makes this installment sing is how well Erickson juggles cozy with chaos. The murder mystery is genuinely twisty. I had my list of suspects, and just when I was ready to smugly pat myself on the back, the real killer came out of left field like a Guinness-fueled curveball. That never happens with cozies anymore. Most follow a formula, and while this one respects the tropes, it also plays with them just enough to keep things interesting. Bucky’s death feels layered—not just a plot device, but something that actually shakes Krissy up emotionally. You feel the impact.
Now, let’s talk supporting cast—because these people are half the reason I keep coming back. Vicki continues to be a chaotic delight. Mason remains dependable and just broody enough to keep you guessing if he’s going to finally spill some tea of his own. Paul, Krissy’s fiancé, is still criminally underrated and honestly deserves a vacation and a therapy session at this point. And Rita? Still queen of sass and smarts. Their dynamic adds humor and heart in equal measure, and you can tell Erickson knows these characters like the back of his coffee-stained notebook.
Also, can we please appreciate the actual real-life stress woven through the plot? Krissy isn’t just chasing down murderers in her spare time—she’s panicking over dog introductions, trying to balance finances, and figuring out how to move in with a man without losing her mind. These aren’t just side notes; they’re integrated into the story in a way that makes her feel like a real person—one you want to hug and then gently shake by the shoulders for getting involved yet again.
The pacing is solid. It never drags, even with all the subplots humming underneath the main murder arc. And the writing? Classic Erickson—smart, snappy, and refreshingly unpretentious. His sense of humor is subtle but sharp. I laughed out loud more than once, especially at Krissy’s internal commentary, which is basically every millennial woman who’s ever had to choose between investigating a murder or fixing her relationship with a passive-aggressive cat.
Favorite quote? Easy:
“Sometimes the truth doesn’t hit you over the head—it slips in while you’re distracted with a latte and a list of bad suspects.”
Honestly, frame it. Put it on a mug. I’ll buy ten.
The ending lands with impact—not just with the killer reveal (which was genuinely chef’s kiss), but with some subtle hints that bigger changes might be coming for Krissy and her crew. No spoilers, but if book sixteen doesn’t involve an awkward honeymoon, I’m writing a strongly worded letter to Pine Hills’ Chamber of Fictional Affairs.
Would I recommend this book? You bet your last biscotti I would. If you’re a cozy mystery fan who likes a well-paced whodunit with heart, humor, and enough caffeine to keep your TBR stack from collapsing in on itself, Death by Irish Coffee is the fix you need. You don’t have to read the whole series to enjoy it—but why deny yourself fourteen other charming little murder sprees?
Final rating:
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ // 5 perfectly brewed stars