Skip to main content

Real Murder:A Lovers in Crime Mystery by Lauren Carr




On occasion I like to take a break from contemporary and world lit to something relaxing and etertaining this book certainly fit the bill for me.  I hadn't read a good mystery in awhile ,and I was a little surprised at how much I missed this genre until I read this book.

    I was very impressed with the plot and the subplot, how both murders, the one from the past and the current tied into each other seamlessly. I liked the Cameron Gates character. Very fiesty, workaholic,determined etc.. She was going to get her suspect even if it meant jumping out of a second floor to do it.(Dont worry the perp broke her fall).  I love it when characters have quirks and flaws that make them relatable. Have I caught crook and locked him up in jail?
Of course not. Have I had to struggle to understand the people in my life or just pray we can get along better? Definitely.Joshua and Cameron are newlyweds trying to pick up the pieces after both being widows for so long.  Cameron doesn't have kids, but Joshua has four and it's always an adjustment bring someone new into your life, and oh yeah got to solve these pesky murders.

    I was a little concerned about the Prolgue. After chapter 2 I could see the benefit from it but this in no way takes away from the story.  NOthing I hate more than a story that just doesn't make sense at the end or just implausible. This is not the case here( no pun intended) I found Ms Carr's writing style to be fresh,complex and rich.  If you like mysteries then I think you will enjoy it as much as I did,I finished within two days and I only do that if I really like a book.  I gave this book 5 out of 5 stars.

Note:I do not recieve money for these reviews.I just really love to read:)

Comments

Lauren Carr said…
Thank you so much, BookAddict4Real, for the glowing review of REAL MURDER! See you next time!

Popular posts from this blog

Poem: In Texas Grass by Quincy Troupe

All along the rail
                                road tracks of texas
                               old train cars lay
                               rusted &overturned
                              like new african governments
                             long forgotten by the people
                              who built & rode them
                                till they couldn't run no more,
                              they remind me of old race horses
                             who've been put out to pasture
                            amongst the weeds
                            rain sleet &snow
                            till they die,rot away
                            like photos fading
                           in grandma's picture book,
                         of old black men in mississippi/texas
                         who sit on dilapidated porches,
                        that fall away
                       like dead man'…

The Speed of Belief by Tracy K Smith (poem)

I didn't want to wait on my knees
In a room made quiet by waiting. A room where we'd listen for the rise
Of breath, the burble in his throat. I didn't want the orchids or the trays
Of food meant to fortify that silence, Or to pray for him to stay or to go then
Finally toward that ecstatic light I didn't want to believe
What we believe in those rooms: That we are blessed, letting go,
Letting someone, anyone, Drag open the drapes and heave us Bak into our blinding, bright lives When your own sweet father died You woke before first light And ate half a plate of eggs and grits, And Drank a glass of milk. After  you'd left, I sat in your place And finished  the toast bits with jam And the cold eggs, the thick bacon Flanged in fat , savoring the taste. Then I slept, too young to know how narrow And grave the road before you seemed--- All the houses zipped tight , the night's Few clouds muddy as cold coffee. You stayed gone a week, and who were we Without your clean p…

My Arkansas by Maya Angelou

There is a deep brooding
                             in Arkansas
                            Old crimes like moss pend
                           from poplar trees.
                           The sullen earth
                           is much too
                          red for comfort.
                          Sunrise seems to hesitate
                           and in that second
                           lose its
                           incandescent aim,and
                          dusk no more shadows
                           than the noon.
                           The past is brighter yet.

                          Old hates and
                          ante-bellum lace,are rent
                          but not discarded.
                          Today is yet to come
                           in Arkansas.
                           it writhes. It writhes in awful brooding.