While better than the previous volume, this series has provided ever diminishing returns since at least the fourth installment. And, if I’m being precise, I’d go back to the third book to find the source of where the narrative began to show cracks. This book, while entertaining, was probably the coziest entry in the series, and that did not exactly make for thrilling reading. More focused on “humor,” not many pages, if any, were devoted to the peril mentioned in the title. My opinion is that Deanna Raybourn thinks she’s very funny, but unfortunately her quips barely pass as clever. Moreover, I’m not sure I want to read mysteries that are funny rather than thrilling. Part of the problem is that the main character is very much like Diane from Cheers, and while that can work in limited doses, that kind of self-satisfied, know-it-all personality grates after a while. At times, that veneer does slip, but Veronica never has enough room to fully get out from under her own pluck. I also feel this book had gaps. It’s as if the characters had conversations the readers aren’t privy to, but we are expected to possess full context when none is given. I’m hoping some real ground is covered in future. Lately, these have been more entertaining for a rainy day than compelling, and they could be if the author put in a bit more effort.