Book Sixteen: Friends, Lovers, Chocolate

Friends, Lovers, Chocolate, Alexander McCall Smith

I just can't seem to help myself. I didn't mean to come back to McCall Smith so soon, but I really wanted to go back into his little world of Isabel Dalhousie and Edinburgh and these low-stakes mysteries. This was enjoyable enough, but something--something that I just can't put my finger on--is lacking in these books. Maybe it's that the mysteries aren't quite mysteries. Really, the satisfying thing is the characters and the setting and the dialogue. I can picture these books as episodes of a television show, something akin to "Murder She Wrote," which, p.s., I totally loved way back when.

I swear, after this, I'm moving on to some more substantial books. Soon.


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