NOTE: I DIDN'T CHOOSE THIS BOOK, BUT RATHER GOT ASKED TO REVIEW IT BY MY EDITOR WHEN I WAS WRITING FOR MY UNIVERSITY NEWSPAPER QUITE A FEW YEARS AGO NOW.This haunting novel tells the story of Lila’s fifteenth summer. Free from school, Lila’s summer looks unremarkable, with only her mother’s hyste...
Faulty Towers An unlikely exposition eventually grinds into gear and once settled in, the remaining two-thirds of this Murphy's-Law fable are increasingly engrossing. Morag Joss has read her Rendell, her Highsmith, and also her Poe; what we have here is a tale of grotesques, enlarged & protean cr...
This is a well written mystery novel, the characterization is good,but something about this book didn't quite click for me. I'd like to read another by Joss, to see if I enjoy it more. From Publishers WeeklyFollow-up to Fearful Symmetry, Joss's latest Sara Selkirk mystery offers another deftly te...
Funeral Music by Morag Joss is an example of the sub-genre of mysteries where a crime is solved not by a cop or a detective, but rather, by an amateur who has nothing to do with such things by profession. Or in this case, interest: in fact, the heroine du jour, Sara Selkirk, is a concert cellist....
IN A CITY OF BEAUTY AND HISTORY, A LITTLE NIGHT MURDER IS BEING COMPOSED… For world-class musicians, Bath is no mecca. But to cellist Sara Selkirk it is home, now invaded by an unbearably sexy Czech composer and his unheralded protégée, who is scoring an opera for a local company. Between the no...
On a blustery April day, the quiet, rather private wife of a doctor discovers that her husband has been having an affair. Moments later, driving along a winding country road and distracted perhaps by her own thoughts, perhaps blinded by sunlight, she fails to see sixty-one-year-old Ruth Mitchell ...
The sky was white with dense, icy cloud, and full of noises; the sirens had stopped, but the drumming and clanking of engines and heavy machinery had started up at the bridge, and the road was already loud with traffic. It hadn’t rained in the night, but the ground was damp and my clothes were so...
It was cold inside the trailer and the air was pale and empty. I dressed quickly and brushed my hair. When I put away the brush, I banged the cupboard shut on the wall above Annabel’s head, which woke her up. “I have to get going,” I told her. “I need extra time. Maybe there’s a bus up to Netherl...
might be looking good for end of month if still ok with you? hope you’re ok more soon A xxx Sent from my BlackBerry From: deborahstoneyridge@yahoo.com To: <adam.morgan@logisticsomnicorpsystems.com> Sent on wed 10 aug 2011 at 11.03 GMT Adam darling Oh, that is great news!! Let’s have ...