Lisa Harris is generally brilliant, but this book does fall short of her usual standards. I fault the publisher, but the second half is really scarred with editorial errors and missing words. I don’t know much about Harlequin’s Love Inspired series of mystery novels, but this particular book division needs to clean up its act.
On top of that, the story itself is somewhat cheesy, with abrupt criminal plot twists that are kind of tossed into the center ring. There’s plenty of action and surprises, but this is not the most realistic of crime stories.
I will wryly observe that when bullets are zinging overhead, most central characters aren’t simultaneously thinking: “Yow! Look at Joe’s muscles? Why doesn’t he kiss me?” And it is sometimes exasperating when a love story is told from both sides of the gender aisle, and two breathlessly infatuated people take an entire book to get together. (But of course, the bullets are zinging overhead . . .)
Two elements, though, are vintage Harris. She does a great job with the Italian location; some of her descriptions are nicely poetic and give you a real feel for a summer evening in Venice. And even though this is billed as a Christian novel, the spiritual element is graciously understated. There are subdued references to needing God’s help, but otherwise the tone is brisk and worldly-wise. (Despite being a devout Christian missionary, Harris excels in this arena.)
This is certainly not a deep book, but I suppose that’s Harlequin for you.