Review

For fans of:  Lila Dare, Jenn McKinlay

When restaurateur and aspiring author Olivia Limoges agrees to help fund a retreat that will bring the nation’s best live storytellers to Oyster Bay, she does so with the expectation that watching masters at work will help inspire her own storytelling. But then legendary performer Violetta Devereaux is strangled during the event’s opening reception, and Olivia’s forced to put her manuscript on hold and turn her attentions to sleuthing. Who killed Violetta, and why? Are the other storytellers in danger, or did one of them do the dastardly deed? Can Olivia, Chief Rawlings, and the other Bayside Book Writers sort out the plot behind the entertainer’s death, or will their digging doom them to share her fate?

Poisoned Prose is the fifth of Ellery Adams’ Books by the Bay Mysteries, and it’s her strongest to date. I confess, I’ve never been a fan of Adams’ series conceit; the storylines involving Olivia’s critique group, the Bayside Book Writers, have routinely been the weakest parts of her books, and the manuscript excerpts with which she’s littered her tales have only served to sap them of tension and narrative drive. Adams changes tactics in Poisoned Prose, though, making the B-story more about the writers than their writing, and the end result is not only a richer plot with better pacing and more emotional content, but a more interesting cast of characters, as well.

I’ve always liked Olivia as a protagonist, and she’s at her best in Adams’ latest. Generous yet guarded, she lives by the adage “trust but verify” – a refreshing change from the naive, Pollyanna-esque cozy heroine I’ve come to despise. Yes, she’s damaged goods, but her emotional scars only serve to make her more interesting and move readers to root all the harder for her success. Olivia’s boyfriend, Chief Sawyer Rawlings, displays more depth in Poisoned Prose than he has in all the prior Books by the Bay Mysteries combined, and the scenes he and Olivia share are among the book’s most powerful. Stubborn, talented, and fabulously unique, the more I see of friend and fellow writer Millay, the more I become convinced she could carry a series of her own. And then there’s Dixie, the rainbow-and-glitter-wearing, roller-skating, Andrew-Lloyd-Webber-themed-diner-owning dwarf. Dixie’s someone I’ve found patently ridiculous for four books now, but in Poisoned Prose, Adams transforms her from a two-dimensional punch line into a likable and nuanced character I hope to see more of in adventures to come.

Verdict:  If you’ve never read one of Ellery Adams’ Books by the Bay Mysteries, Poisoned Prose is a great place to start, and if you’re already familiar with the series, I’d be shocked if this doesn’t become your favorite of the bunch.