A bit of blogkeeping: Monday’s the last day to enter my Silver Spoon Giveaway.
Remember you can get extra entries for each day you tweet!
Given it’s a mystery novel, this surprised me even more. When I’m reading a mystery, I care about the characters only on a superficial level. I typically have just one thing on my mind – solving the mystery.
And I’m pretty good at it. When you’ve been fed a steady diet of murder mysteries since you were 5, it’s hard not to guess whodunit anymore.
But as I dug further and further into James Renner’s The Man from Primrose Lane, I became so entranced by the drama and puzzles unfolding in the main character’s life that the murder almost became secondary.
The book opens with the story of an old man from Akron. His name is a mystery, known only as The Man from Primrose Lane.
No one really knows anything about him except that on the few occasions they see him out of the house, he’s wearing mittens – even in the sweltering heat of summer.
Then one day he’s found dead in his living room with a gunshot to the chest and all his fingers gone.