I just know my alihi's around here someplace... maybe under the bed, next to my Manolo knock offs. By the way, I'm Karen Doucette: showroom girl-slash-model-slash-aspiring actress. Add another slash for novice sleuth--because if trying to make it in Manhattan weren't enough of an adventure, now I've got to go undercover to cross myself off the list of suspects in the murder of my ex-boyfriend. He had it coming. Not that I had anything to do with it...I'm just saying. See, my former flame, Dick, lived up to his name in more ways than one. He had it where it counts--and the city's wealthiest socialites paid big bucks to have him. You might wonder why I'd date a gigolo. There was the phenomenal sex, obviously--plus my pet delusion that I was the one he really cared about. So why did we break up? Enter Blaize St. John, frienemy extraordinaire. She came, she saw, she stole my boyfriend. And now, just because the crime-scene evidence points to me and a bunch of people can testify to how royally p.o.'d I was...well, I know it looks bad, but seriously--do I sound like the kind of girl who'd risk chipping a nail in pursuit of revenge? Is it hot in here, or is it me? ...or is it Detective Andy Faluso of the NYPD--he of the coffee-brown eyes and beautifully broad shoulders? Normally, a guy this intense is a turn on--but when his cop radar is focused on moi? Not so much. Okay, maybe a little. And maybe he likes me just a little bit, too. I mean, why else is he calling me every other day? Still, I have to focus on proving my innocence. I know this city like the back of my hand, so ferreting out Dick's killer should be a breeze. And while I'm at it, I'll write up my exploits as a script. Because ifthis is to be a summer spent snooping instead of shopping, I should at least get a movie deal out of it....
NYPD Homicide Detective Andy Faluso heads the investigation into the murder of professional escort Dick Kordell. The prime suspect is wannabe actress and super mannequin model dummy Karen Doucette because she was dating the deceased just shortly before he died. Andy has focused on her as he is in her Manhattan kitchen as much as her refrigerator and on the phone with her so frequently he must have communication stock. Interestingly he believes she is innocent. Karen admits to herself she wanted him dead for cheating on her with her ex best friend, but she just dropped both of them, not killing anyone. Still someone who knew of her relationship with the late lover has left evidence to hang Karen. Concerned that Andy, who she likes having around, will arrest her, Karen poses as a freelance journalist to interview Kordell's wealthy female clients to determine who wanted that Dick dead. THE SINGLE GIRL'S GUIDE TO MURDER is a lighthearted New York amateur sleuth tale with obvious police procedural elements. The story line reflects the heroine, a cool, breezy, and nice person. The murder investigations (professionally and amateurish) nicely contrast one another especially when ironically the reader knows why Andy spends so much time with Karen while she remains clueless. Joanne Meyer writes a fun Manhattan mystery that in spite of an Irish Stew queen sized ending deserves chapter two in Karen's guide to mayhem and bad cooking. Harriet Klausner
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