I'll never read anything by this author again, and maybe none by the publisher, Kensington Books. The writing is awkward and bad, jerking me out of the story repeatedly. (For one example, neither Ms Lester, nor anyone who read it pre-publication, sees to realize that by definition, loafers do not lace up.)
Our heroine is alleged to have been a cop for years, but when a sexy man makes suggestive remarks, her heart pounds, she blushes, goes weak
in the knees and generally shakes all over. She's aways blushing about something or other. Really?
Someone apparently told Ms Lester the importance of the telling detail, but she missed understanding the importance of "telling". I do not need to know what color of blush & lipstick she's putting on. Really. Although she remarked that farming is hard on clothes and her wardrobe is mostly jeans & tees, she has just the right chic outfit for every occasion. Including, apparently, a wardrobe of shoes to make Imelda jealous. She's now a 'struggling' farmer & before that a cop who never got the promotion she deserved. Where DID all that money come from? And this struggling farmer? When the dead man's brother gives her a large check to investigate, her first thought, I kid you not, was granite countertops for the kitchen. Uh, no.
No evidence or clues need apply either. She wanders around asking pointless questions until one day the dead man's lover makes a wild accusation. With absolutely no evidence or proof of any sort she decides he's right and of course, it turns out he is. Lots of 'instinctive' feelings running around. Who needs ratiocination or proof? The cold fish upper-class jerk with lots of political pull who instigated the murder, gets conveniently killed, leaving only her low-class former con henchman alive. And you know how easy it is to trip them up and trap them, because they're stupid, and then punish them because they have no power. Gag.