The Retirees: Retirement Has Never Felt So Deadly by Leah Orr
Published by Orrplace Preee – thank you to the author for my gifted book.
Imagine The Golden Girls started solving cold cases, added a conspiracy theorist with a tech obsession, two tarot-reading twins, and a cat with the all-seeing gaze of a jaded bartender—and you’re still not quite prepared for The Retirees. Leah Orr has written a cozy mystery that’s sharply funny, sneakily heartfelt, and just unhinged enough to be deeply satisfying. Think Florida sunshine, boozy coffee, bodies piling up behind the shuffleboard court, and absolutely no one remembering what day it is. Perfection.
Our fearless, gloriously snarky protagonist Diana, fresh off being booted from her family’s sugar empire, lands in the pastel-walled paradise of The Ocean’s Edge—an upscale 55+ community that hides more secrets than your aunt’s casserole recipe. Diana arrives looking for peace and maybe a hot pool boy named Chad, but instead finds a ragtag group of retirees with an oddly efficient cold case club, an eye for murder, and the world’s most sarcastic community cat, Mr. Anderson, who frankly deserves his own spin-off.
What follows is a delicious mix of small-town vibes, eccentric characters, cold cases gone warm, and one very active serial killer who is 100% hiding in plain sight. Diana’s new neighbors? Each one a little strange and completely lovable. There’s Carol, the nurse who may or may not speak fluent ferret. The tarot twins, Filomena and Estelle, who see things the rest of us miss (except lottery numbers, which is unfortunate). Dennis, the conspiracy theorist with a laptop full of encrypted files and a fridge full of expired Hot Pockets. And Bill, the former detective who treats solving crimes like it’s fantasy football season.
Despite their quirks, these retirees are scarily good at what they do. They meet regularly for coffee cocktails (yes, recipes are included and yes, I want them all), solve cold cases between pool aerobics and HOA violations, and uncover more than just who stole the shuffleboard chalk. Oh, and the HOA fines residents for public swearing, which leads to the invention of entire lexicons of G-rated insults. There are more inventive curse words in this book than a season of The Good Place—and I say that as high praise.
The story structure is deceptively clever. We shift between Diana’s wry point of view, the eerily calm voice of an anonymous killer, and yes—chapters from the cat’s perspective. Mr. Anderson isn’t just there for comic relief. He sees everything, judges everyone, and somehow manages to make feline passive aggression a plot device. He’s not magical, but he’s definitely supernatural-adjacent.
As the body count in paradise rises, what starts as a fun distraction quickly becomes an urgent investigation. What’s genius here is how Orr balances the humor and the stakes. These retirees aren’t caricatures—they’re flawed, funny, lonely, fierce. There’s real trauma beneath the jokes, real secrets behind the smiles, and a tension that builds so quietly you don’t realize you’re on edge until it’s too late to stop reading.
There’s also a lovely throughline of reinvention. These characters have all lost something: power, spouses, careers, health, identity. But instead of withering away quietly with a book of crossword puzzles, they rise. They adapt. They hunt murderers with charm and vigor and homemade Irish cream. As Diana puts it, “It turns out there’s life after forced retirement. And occasionally, death.”
The writing is fast, witty, and emotionally grounded. It doesn’t linger—it struts. Dialogue sparkles, the pacing never drags, and the banter alone is worth the price of admission. Every character gets a moment to shine, even if that moment involves chasing someone with a golf cart.
Here’s the quote I’ll be quoting until the end of time:
“There’s plenty of drama with this group to keep me entertained without any commercial interruptions.”
Same, Diana. Same.
The ending hit me with a twist I absolutely did not see coming. Not just a whodunit reveal, but a genuinely emotional punch wrapped in sarcasm and cinnamon schnapps. And just when you think it’s over, you get bonus content: the boozy coffee recipes and a short horror story to go with your final chapter nightcap. Leah Orr knows how to treat her readers.
In short? This book is a cozy mystery that plays dirty—in the best way. It’s smart without trying too hard, funny without feeling forced, and unexpectedly poignant in the quiet moments between jokes. I tore through it in a single sitting and immediately wanted more. If there isn’t a sequel already in the works, I’m personally going to stage a very polite protest. Possibly involving glitter and a very upset HOA.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (5/5) – For fans of Only Murders in the Building, The Thursday Murder Club, sarcastic cats, and revenge plots served warm with whipped cream and a dash of rum.
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