For fans of: Wendy Lyn Watson, Diane Mott Davidson
When Village Blend owner Madame Allegro decides to partner with an old friend and use the Blend’s beans to create a mocha-flavored aphrodisiac, Blend manager and head barista Clare Cosi is understandably nervous; if Mocha Magic Coffee tanks, it could pull the Blend’s reputation down with it. But the drink will be sold exclusively through wildly successful online community Aphrodite’s Village, so Clare’s concerns should be unfounded…right?
Then tragedies start to befall the Aphrodite web editors with ties to Mocha Magic, making it apparent someone’s determined to torpedo the product before it can even get off the ground. But who would do such a thing, and why? With the body count on the rise, Clare must catch a killer and put a stop to the mayhem before she and her precious Village Blend become the next victims.
Murder by Mocha is the tenth installment in author Cleo Coyle’s Coffeehouse Mystery series. The setup is kind of convoluted and the prose contains a distracting overabundance of references to Greek myth, but the plot is intricate, the narrative drive is strong, and the book has a wonderful sense of atmosphere. Coyle’s descriptions are beautiful; she somehow uses them to not only establish place and time, but mood, as well. Her imagery is striking, and she makes sure you to show you the world through all of Clare's senses, making for a fully immersive reading experience.
Clare’s a smart, strong, and determined heroine. Her continuing romance with NYPD Detective Mike Quinn is simultaneously steamy and tender, adding depth and complexity to both characters, but I confess, it’s Clare’s complicated relationship with sexy ex-husband Matteo Allegro that keeps me coming back book after book. As usual, mother-in-law Madame adds humor and warmth to Coyle’s tale, but the surprise winner here is Sergeant Emmanuel Franco; in Murder by Mocha, Coyle has managed to transform a character I once called “patently ridiculous” into both a likable series regular and a compelling love interest for Clare’s daughter Joy.
As I’ve said before, if Coyle’s writing has one fault, it’s her minor characters. The Village Blend’s core baristas are actually much less over-the-top here than in previous books (and therefore much more likable and realistic), but Clare’s newest hire – the saccharine-sweet and impossibly naive Nancy – drags down almost every scene in which she appears. Characters with catch phrases are a pet peeve of mine, and if I never again read the words “holy smokin’ rockets”, it will be too soon.
I also wish Coyle hadn’t opted to randomly insert chapters told from the nameless, faceless murderer’s point of view. Rather than adding to the tale, it detracts from the flow of the story, and the prose with which she writes these sections is a particularly deep shade of purple, cheapening Coyle’s otherwise solid writing.
That said, I’d vastly prefer to while away an afternoon in Cleo Coyle’s Village Blend coffee house than I would spend a moment in a real Greenwich Village café. In Coyle’s hands, the Blend is so much more than a skeleton of text; it’s a warm and inviting place to drink a perfectly pulled espresso – and maybe catch a murderer or two.
~ Kat |