This is weird and why I consider my own ratings to be bunk: In June I picked this up read the first chapter and abandoned it. Just wasn't what I felt like reading. But it was on the list for Baker Street Irregulars, and I usually like Johnson, so...and I made it to the second chapter and then I was reluctant to put it down. Loved it. So Gothic romance and Nancy Drew and Sherlock and a boarding school too. Nom nom nom. I liked Stevie even as she exasperated me.
By this time seems like I should be better at telling the difference between Not for Me and Not for Now, but no. Midnight in the Garden was probably the first book I picked for this Bingo, and I gave up entirely. Twenty five or so years ago I loved it. Go figure.
This was book 1 (and I read them out of order) and my children had chosen the later book and we borrowed this one to go back and check out the rest of the series. TJ was just given custody of her half-sisters following the death of their mother and father. They have come to live with her, her father and grandfather. She is a coach and teacher at the local high school and is friends with a man who spends all his time in his mansion. She finds him dead and doesn't feel that it was a suicide or an old age death.
While she navigates life as a parent to her sisters, a teacher, a coach and friend, she meets the newest police officer (detective) and makes friends with him. He looks into the death of her friend and the two become friends.
Nice short story (about 5 hours audio) and I paired it with the book and we were able to finish it pretty quickly. The girls and I enjoyed the story. We have even borrowed another from the series.
I've never encountered a book so badly written and edited. The grammar and punctuation are insane. I keep having to re-read paragraphs to make sense of them.
"Why not? But I'd be careful if I were you."
Her monosyllabic question was answered by another. "Do you believe in psychic phenomena?"
* * * * * * * *
"Yes, though I'm the world's worst driver."
He cleared his throat again, realising that her present financial situation did not run to cars.
He held out his hand: "Now remember, come to me for any advice you need. You have enough money for the present?"
Again the glimmer of wry mischief: "For the present. Thank you, Mr. Deoring"
* * * * * * * * *
Not immediately though; she decided to spend the rest of the week looking for a job.
Her lack of experience gave her little choice. Could she type? No. Shorthand? No. Was she good at figures? Most certainly no. She was offered , somewhat doubtfully, the post of matron at a boys' prep school, a job in an office dark and dingy, where she would have been little more than a tea-girl. She refused both and studied the "Wanted ads" in the papers. There were a great many, so many that she found herself in a kind of mental vortex, for none were suitable. Work in London, life in London, in a small bed-sitting room? The thought gave her claustrophobia.