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10 of 11 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
Trips, Pratfalls, Drivers' Lessons and No One Assaults Goldy, 31 May 2006
If you love to hate lawyers, you may well find this to be a five-star book. If you are a lawyer, well, I'm sure you'll enjoy the recipes.
For some time, I've been complaining that Ms. Davidson's novels too often treat Goldy Schulz like a punching bag. Thankfully, although Goldy has her share of accidents in this story, no one assaults her. For me, that was a major plus for this story. I hope Ms. Davidson will continue to show Goldy as a well-meaning klutz rather than as an abused woman.
How the mighty have fallen! Goldy finds herself depending on the good graces of a bunch of lawyers who don't thrill her . . . but who do like having great breakfasts, lunches and dinners at the office.
Arriving late one night to bake bread at the firm, Goldy trips and loses all of her ingredients over the reception area. But that's the least of the problem. She's just tripped over a dead woman who is her neighbor in the Habitat for Humanity house across the street. Goldy does her best to revive her friend, Dusty Routt, to no avail.
Dusty's mother is devastated by the news and begs Goldy to investigate the killing on her own. With Tom's forbearance, Goldy does just that . . . while carefully sharing what she learns with the sheriff's office.
In between, Goldy has a lot of catering to do, Arch is learning to drive (not very well), Gus and Arch are developing into a solid relationship as half brothers, Tom is learning to cook gourmet food for the family, and Goldy is puzzled by why some of artist-chef Charlie Baker's recipes don't work.
The investigation makes Goldy wish she wasn't investigating. It seems like Dusty may have been overindulging in her passion for older married men . . . and possibly running off with property that doesn't belong to her. There's also a mysterious bracelet that's gone missing . . . and lawyers who act like they have something to hide.
Naturally, it's when the catering and the investigating coalesce that Goldy figures out who did what to whom.
It's a better than average mystery from Ms. Davidson, and building the theme of cooking into the story in more than the usual ways makes this a memorable offering in the series.
I don't recall a Goldy Schulz story that I've enjoyed more.
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1 of 3 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Taste & Intrigue Welded In. Slurp & Sense. , 3 Oct 2006
Mesmerized by the luscious book jacket on DARK TORT, I picked up the hardback with my right hand, and ran my left fingertips over the face of the cool, smooth, brail effective jacket. I was more than ready to pick up on what this author had done subtly differently this time to continue infusing her stories with the edge and surge which had kept them riding tips of waves of cravings for culinary mysteries.
A riveting intensity in the opening scene of DARK TORT (the legal term for wrongful act, not "torte" as in pastry) was sparked by the first sentence of chapter one, page one. But what welded the rivets for me was the culinary catastrophe in the third paragraph:
"The bag of flour I was carrying slid from my hands and exploded on the carpet. Two jars of yeast plummeted onto the coffee table, where they burst into shards and powder. My last bottle of molasses sailed in a wide arc and cracked onto the receptionist's cherry-wood desk. A thick wave of sweet, dark liquid began a gluey descent across the phone console. My steel bowl of bread sponge catapulted out or my arms and hit the wall."
With each sensory impression in that paragraph having opened gateways into my mind, I would be reading onward with awakened interest.
The first 40 pages had the feel of a nightmare; I had half expected Goldy to suddenly point to her pillow, at a place to ponder about the dream, which would, of course, be a clue to a murder which would occur later, in the waking state.
Ironically, those first 40 pages also had the feel of the reality of "tripping over a dead body" (of a close friend) and dealing with that type of emotional/mental/spiritual trauma, compiled with the ongoing chill of threatening police procedural impositions impregnated with that metallic taste/smell, which Goldy made note of a few times during those opening pages, usually in reference to heat systems blowing warm air with that blood chilling flavor.
Goldy cooks up storms of clues in her spaciously gourmet, commercial kitchen, simultaneous to sorting through the ones which come `round to bat her body and soul while she's in an eternal state of grieving exhaustion (to which, as faithful readers, we've become happily addicted). So, how does she ever GET anywhere? That spring-loaded titanium back bone. And Tom's hugs accompanied by his "to die for" sharing of the career-laden-Mom-homemaker's loads of eternal daily duties. Then there's ESPRESSO, the Energizer Bunny bean!
Couldn't love more the way Goldy snarls at anyone who has the wherewithal or gall to trash the natural, real values of caffeine, butter, eggs, and/or creme.
Read & Slurp,
Linda Shelnutt
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by Diane Mott Davidson
by Diane Davidson
by Diane Mott Davidson
by Diane Mott Davidson
by Diane Mott Davidson
