Non-existent character development, weak plot, frantic pacing--this reminded me more of a comic book than an novel.
The underlying premise, "The Women's Murder Club pits four San Francisco women professionals against a serial killer" is as implausible as it is an overstatement. The protagonist, Lindsey Boxer, is a detective who discovers she has a rare blood disease. Based on nothing more than a good feeling about a reporter, Boxer takes the reporter into her confidence and discloses details about the murders which would probably cost her a demotion or suspension in real life. Not to worry, though--this reporter, who is otherwise driven to get the story that will catapult her out of "Metro" reporting into "Crime," keeps the disclosure under her hat. (Right.) The medical examiner (Boxer's best friend)and the woman prosecuter join Boxer and the reporter in drinking margaritas and solving the crimes outside of normal channels (i.e., they talk among themselves and go off half-cocked).
Is there any background which would explain why these women had to work outside of the system? No. Is there any significant difference in their characters? No. Is any progress made in "solving" the crime made by these women that could not have more plausibly been made by the detectives doing their jobs? No!
This extremely disappointing book seems to be the first in a series about the Women's Murder Club. Let's hope that future installments are better written and conceived.