I was super excited to discover this series, as I am a ukulele student myself. The idea of a ukulele-playing heroine was different--and enthralling to me--and I dove in with much anticipation.
Alas, I am sad to report that I thought the book was an utter disappointment--on many levels. The plot was thin, and dumb. Three better-known and also contentious local ukulele players are murdered in quick succession, and the heroine, Nani Johnson, finds herself unexpectedly accused of the crimes. Nani was flighty and predictable. The fact that the mystery surrounded ukulele players ultimately seemed contrived, for they all could just as easily have been sax players or harp players. Or welders. It just didn't seem to matter.
Most of the supporting cast were also one-dimensional and flimsy. You know, the usually drunk but always delightful mom, the faithful best friend who always arrives just when Nani is at the end of her rope, the stony police detective, etc. Aggravatingly, the mystery itself was often derailed as Nani found herself falling into lust with an attractive, available and wealthy botanist who, natch, was eager to join the danger and help clear Nani's name.
Lamentably as well, I found the actual writing style in the book unsatisfactory. The author has little skill at turning a phrase artfully or engaging the reader (this reader, anyway). Every-other clue the dimwitted sleuth uncovered was "weird". A simple thesaurus could have saved me much moaning and groaning. The plot unfolded at times both laboriously and then breathlessly. Written in the first person, Nani spent much too much time re-reviewing the clues, freaking out about being framed, and debating the trustworthiness of the new botanist/slash/love interest. All said, rather than a light but fun frolic as hoped, this book made me force myself to turn the pages. Never a good thing.
Regretfully, I give this book only half a star. Gleeful anticipation unfulfilled.
Alas, I am sad to report that I thought the book was an utter disappointment--on many levels. The plot was thin, and dumb. Three better-known and also contentious local ukulele players are murdered in quick succession, and the heroine, Nani Johnson, finds herself unexpectedly accused of the crimes. Nani was flighty and predictable. The fact that the mystery surrounded ukulele players ultimately seemed contrived, for they all could just as easily have been sax players or harp players. Or welders. It just didn't seem to matter.
Most of the supporting cast were also one-dimensional and flimsy. You know, the usually drunk but always delightful mom, the faithful best friend who always arrives just when Nani is at the end of her rope, the stony police detective, etc. Aggravatingly, the mystery itself was often derailed as Nani found herself falling into lust with an attractive, available and wealthy botanist who, natch, was eager to join the danger and help clear Nani's name.
Lamentably as well, I found the actual writing style in the book unsatisfactory. The author has little skill at turning a phrase artfully or engaging the reader (this reader, anyway). Every-other clue the dimwitted sleuth uncovered was "weird". A simple thesaurus could have saved me much moaning and groaning. The plot unfolded at times both laboriously and then breathlessly. Written in the first person, Nani spent much too much time re-reviewing the clues, freaking out about being framed, and debating the trustworthiness of the new botanist/slash/love interest. All said, rather than a light but fun frolic as hoped, this book made me force myself to turn the pages. Never a good thing.
Regretfully, I give this book only half a star. Gleeful anticipation unfulfilled.
