The biggest trouble with Charlie is that he's dead. His
soon-to-be-ex-wife, Elle Harrison, comes home from a night out with
friends to find his body in her den, her kitchen knife in his back. And,
oddly, Elle has no memory of her activities during the time he was
killed.
Another
trouble with Charlie is that, even though he's dead, he doesn't seem to
be gone. Elle senses Charlie's presence--a gentle kiss on the neck, the
scent of his aftershave wafting through the house, a rose that seems to
move from room to room on its own. And a shadow that appears to accuse
her of murder--and with whom she argues.
In
the process of trying to prove her innocence, Elle investigates
Charlie's death--and his life. A psychiatrist diagnoses her with a
dissociative disorder that causes her to "space out" especially when
she's under stress. This might explain the gap in her memory, but it
doesn't clear her.
As
Elle continues to look into Charlie's life, she uncovers more and more
trouble--an obsessed woman who might have been his lover. Siblings with
unresolved bitter issues. A slimy untrustworthy business partner. And
wealthy clients with twisted, horrific appetites.
Before
she knows it, Elle is involved in more murders, a struggle for her
life, and a revived relationship with Charlie, whom--for all his
troubles--she has come to appreciate and love only after his death.
Charlie, Charlie, Charlie..you tricksey little hobbit! You just don't quit! This was quite a unique and fun mystery. I really was left guessing from the start til almost the last page! It's well written and clever! I had this weird nagging feeling that something wasn't right from the start, but like I just stated I wasn't quite sure what it was.
Elle was such a sympathetic and believable character. She had gone through so much and had so much emotional turmoil going on, it was really hard not to like her. She was thrown in such a weird situation, that her reactions were just so understandable!
This was a great mystery and a great book! I highly recommend it!
Excerpt:
PROLOGUE
Sometime
before Charlie moved out, I began reading the obituaries. It became a
daily routine, like morning coffee. I didn’t just scan the listings; I
read them closely, noting dates of death, ages of the deceased, names of
survivors. If there were photos, I studied faces for clues about
mortality even though they were often grinning and much younger than at
death. Sometimes there were flags at the top of notices, signifying
military service. Salvadore Petrini had a flag. Aged 64. Owner of
Petrini’s Market. Beloved husband and father and stepfather and brother
and uncle. Viewing and Life Celebration at St. Patrick’s Church,
Malvern.
Some
notices were skeletal, giving no details of the lost life: Sonia Woods
went to be with the Lord on August 17. Viewing Friday, from 9 to 11,
First Baptist Church. Service to follow. These left me disturbed, sad
for the deceased. Was there, in the end, really nothing to be said about
them? Were their lives just a finite number of breaths now stopped?
For
weeks, I followed the flow of local deaths and funerals. I tried to
surmise causes of death from requests for memorial contributions in lieu
of flowers. The American Cancer Society. The Vascular Disease
Foundation. The American Heart or Alzheimers Association. When there
were epigraphs, I read about careers accomplished, volunteer work
conducted, music played, tournaments won. Lives condensed to an eighth
of a page. Less, usually.
Though
the notices were brief, the words and patterns of language had a gentle
rolling rhythm, comforting, like prayers, like nursery rhymes. And
between listings, stark and straight lines divided one death from
another, putting lives neatly into boxes, separating body from body.
Soul from soul. Making death quantifiable and normal, a daily occurrence
neatly announced on paper in black and white, on pages dense with ink,
speckled with gray smiling photos. Smiles announcing that death wasn’t
really so bad.
I
don’t know why I was compelled to read those listings every day. At the
time, I’d have said it had to be about the death of my marriage. After
all, my own life, in a way, was ending. My life as Charlie’s wife was
dying, but there would be no public acknowledgment of that demise. No
memorial service. No community gathering to mourn. Maybe I read the
listings to remember that I wasn’t the only one grieving, that others
had lost even more. Still, I would have felt better if the obituary page
included dead marriages and lost identities: Mrs. Charles Henry
Harrison (nee Elle Brooks) ceased to exist on (date pending), when the
couple’s divorce became final. Maybe it would help to have some formal
recognition of the demise of my former self. Maybe not.
It’s
possible that my own losses brought me to the daily obits. But I doubt
it. Looking back, I believe what drew me was far more ominous. A
premonition. An instinct. For whatever reason, though, every morning as I
chewed my English muffin, I buried myself in the death notices,
studying what I could about people who were no more, trying to learn
from them or their photos or their neatly structured notices anything I
could about death.
Of
course, as it turned out, the notices were useless. None of them, not
one prepared me for what was to happen. According to the obituary
columns, the circumstances of one’s life made no difference in the end.
Dead was simply dead. Final. Permanent. Without room for doubt. The
pages I studied gave no indication of a gray area. And the boxes around
the obituaries contained no dotted lines.
Author Bio:
Merry Jones is
the author of THE suspense novel THE TROUBLE WITH CHARLIE, as well as
the Harper Jennings thrillers (WINTER BREAK, BEHIND THE WALLS, SUMMER
SESSION),and the Zoe Hayes mysteries (THE BORROWED AND BLUE MURDERS, THE
DEADLY NEIGHBORS, THE RIVER KILLINGS, THE NANNY MURDERS).
Jones
has also written humor (including I LOVE HIM, BUT...) and non-fiction
(including BIRTHMOTHERS: Women who relinquished babies for adoption tell
their stories.)
Jones
has a regular contributor to GLAMOUR, and her work has been printed in
seven languages and numerous magazines. Her short story, BLISS, appears
in the anthology LIAR LIAR, a project of the Philadelphia Liars Club.
In
addition to the Liars, Jones is a member of Mystery Writers of America,
The Authors Guild and International Thriller Writers.
For
the last fifteen years, she has taught writing courses at a variety of
institutions, including Temple University and Delaware County Community
College. She has appeared on radio and television (local and national),
and participates in panel discussions and workshops regularly.
Websites & Links:
Tour Schedule:
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Thank you to Merry Jones and Partners in
Crime Virtual Book Tours for generously offering this book to
me for review.
If you'd like to join in on an upcoming tour just stop by their sites and sign up today!
Fantastic review!! I need to read this book to find out about Charlie, you definitely piqued my curiosity. An awesome post. Thank you.
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