For fans of:  Joyce and Jim Lavene

When Sunshine “Sunny” Meadows defies her parents’ wishes and relocates from the posh comfort of Manhattan to a haunted old Victorian in Upstate New York, she knows she’s taking a risk; she’s never lived outside the city before, and her father wasn’t kidding when he said he’d cut her off if she left.  But she has a dream of opening a fortune-telling business and making it on her own, so she packs up her old Beetle and takes the plunge.  After all, what could possibly go wrong?

Then her very first client is found dead just hours after their meeting, and Sunny finds herself at the center of a murder investigation.  Somebody is trying to set her up – but who?  And why?  Does Sunny have what it takes to clear her name and catch a killer, or will she be starting her new life from behind bars?

Tempest in the Tea Leaves is the first in Kari Lee Townsend’s new Fortune Teller Mystery series, and I must say, it’s likely the last book by Ms. Townsend I’ll ever read.  Her setup feels forced and artificial, her prose is awkward and littered with artless info dumps, and her dialogue is stiff and unnatural.  Her plot is implausible, her mystery is haphazardly constructed, and her story is utterly devoid of flow, lurching from scene to scene in a seemingly arbitrary fashion.  The parts of the book where Townsend actually has Sunny read someone’s tea leaves are quite enjoyable; it’s something I haven’t seen done before in a cozy, and Townsend uses these scenes to convey some interesting information.  Unfortunately, however, for a self-described fortune-teller mystery, far too little of the tale has anything to do with Sunny’s “talent”, and three short tea-leaf-reading scenes, entertaining as they are, aren’t enough to save an otherwise boring book.

For her part, Sunny is an annoying, unlikable heroine; every thought, word, and action is childish and reactionary, and why anyone would task her to help the police solve a crime is beyond me.  And Townsend’s minor characters are no better; two-dimensional stereotypes to a one, they add little to the story, and none of their actions ring true (the number of people who gape, gasp, or go slack-jawed in this cast is staggering). 

Townsend’s book has no sense of atmosphere and is completely lacking in action, tension, and drama.  You never get the sense that Sunny is in any real danger, nor do you buy for a second that the police actually consider her a suspect.  For that matter, you meet the murder victim so briefly and find out so little about her over the course of the book that by the time you reach the end, you realize you don’t give a damn who killed her or why.

Kari Lee Townsend may yet find her rhythm with this series, but (for the time being, at least) if you’re looking for a fun new supernatural cozy, I suggest you focus your search elsewhere.

~ Kat