A Spoonful of Poison --- by --- M. C. Beaton.
The chief protagonist in all of Beaton’s Agatha Raisin’s Mysteries is, of course, Agatha Raisin, a middle aged woman in her early fifties who still looked well, with tinted glossy hair, ample bosom, small eyes, very few wrinkles, rather despairingly thick about the waist, but still with good legs. She is partial to a generous gin and tonic at the end of the day; loves her cigarettes; devoted, somewhat, to her ex-husband who lives next door and very, very fond of her two cats who, seemingly, couldn't stoop to return the sentiment. She is also given to not infrequent romantic pursuits. And oh yes, she runs her own detective agency in a small Cotswold burgh.
Sounds predictably and boringly frumpy, no, and not particularly promising of a particularly good detective novel’s tale.
The Raisin tales of genteel skulduggery usually have as many twists and turns as an unruly measure of well sauced linguini on a slippery fork. One minute you know who done-it, the next you don’t: always entertaining.
A real ho-hum book, nothing too interesting, like Beaton is running out of ideas. A waste of my time.
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