So listen (err, read) to this: I’m addicted to Susan Wittig Albert’s China Bayles cozy mystery series. (Say that three times fast.) Such revelations shouldn’t come as much of a surprise, though. Those who frequent this blog has seen me profusing this through a few past posts, since picking up the second book in Albert's series for #MarchMysteryMadness.
Approaching middle-aged woman with an interesting name. "China Bayles" has a kick-ass ring to it. Ex-lawyer now herbalist. Hmm, I sniff some interesting parallels. No children. Little family to call upon. Dating.
Rubbing my chin and deep in thought, I asked myself: Was China going to give me cool lady tease? Will she serve me candor and dry wit with an "over it all" attitude about life (my spirit was calling for this, by the way)? Or was she going to be a stuffy planter? Someone stuck in a straw hat while carrying a basket as she pooh-pooh'ed around keeping her hands marginally clean while solving murders (I need a girl who's willing to break glass to get into an office)? In either case–given the series' herbalist hook–I kind of suspected finding a body in somebody's kitchen garden would eventually ramp up the fun. So I took the bait and went to McDonald's for some fries.