This is the first Jacquot crime novel I have read, and I see from the other reviews there are some big fans out there.
It's well written and the descriptions of the south of France are extremely evocative - hence the three stars. Jacquot is also an original and interesting creation, a mixture of Gerard Depardieu and David Ginola with that rugby player's frame and those green eyes - shame about the ponytail ...
But if you like your sleuths like Morse or Rebus with their emotions on display, with all their human flaws and failures, he's a bit of a cold fish. This is a man who seems more interested in what's on the menu than throwing himself into the case. He doesn't empathise with his victims at all - there's no difference in tone in the description of the murdered girl's body and the pig's carcass that lies next to it. There's no sympathy for the murdered artist whose death is almost an afterthought. The budding love affair never rings true. I just don't like him.
Also, unless you are a gourmet or a wine expert, I'm afraid the countless descriptions of the meals he eats get rather repetitive. At times it's as if he's writing an advertisement for the hotel restaurant. It's a shame that the ghost story element goes nowhere. And it takes a very confident crime writer indeed to leave the discovery of the first body until page 244 (of 408).
So, still looking for a crime series to get into - for me, this isn't it.