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A Mrs. Murphy Mystery
2018 Penguin Random House
448 Seiten
177 mm x 106 mm
Sprache: English
978-0-553-39251-7

Besprechung

Clearly the cat s meow. Library Journal

Thoroughly delightful! Red Carpet Crash

An air of mystery, a touch of history and that undeniable voice . . . Sneaky Pie Brown is back on the prowl. Daily Progress

The staccato conversation style of the contemporary chapters contrasts nicely with the more fluid prose of those set in the eighteenth century. Brown s signature asides on such subjects as local and national politics, traditional art, race, God, and just about anything else that strikes her fancy give readers plenty to think about. Publishers Weekly

Kurztext / Annotation

Brown and her feline co-author Sneaky Pie are back chasing mystery with their unique circle of Southern sleuths. And though the changing colors of fall are a beauty to behold, this year the scattered leaves hide a grim surprise.

Langtext

Rita Mae Brown and her feline co-author Sneaky Pie Brown are back chasing mystery with their unique circle of Southern sleuths. And though the changing colors of fall are a beauty to behold, this year the scattered leaves hide a grim surprise.

As feline collaborators go, you couldn t ask for better than Sneaky Pie Brown. The New York Times Book Review

Autumn is in the air in the Blue Ridge Mountain community of Crozet, Virginia and all the traditions of the changing seasons are under way. Mary Minor Harry Haristeen cleans her cupboards, her husband, Fair, prepares the horses for the shorter days ahead, and the clamorous barking of beagles signals the annual rabbit chase through the central Virginia hills. But the last thing the local beaglers and their hounds expect to flush out is a dead body.

Disturbingly, it s the second corpse to turn up, after that of a missing truck driver too disfigured to identify. The deaths seem unrelated until Harry picks up a trail of clues dating back to the state s post-Revolutionary past.

The echoes of the Shot Heard Round the World pale in comparison to the dangerous shootout Harry narrowly escapes unscathed. Next time, it may be the killer who gets lucky. But not if Harry s furry friends Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, and Tucker can help it. Lending their sharp-nosed talents to the hunt, they ll help their mistress keep more lives from being lost and right an injustice buried since the early days of America s independence.

Praise for A Hiss Before Dying

Clearly the cat s meow. Library Journal

Thoroughly delightful! Red Carpet Crash

An air of mystery, a touch of history and that undeniable voice . . . Sneaky Pie Brown is back on the prowl. Daily Progress

The staccato conversation style of the contemporary chapters contrasts nicely with the more fluid prose of those set in the eighteenth century. Brown s signature asides on such subjects as local and national politics, traditional art, race, God, and just about anything else that strikes her fancy give readers plenty to think about. Publishers Weekly

Textauszug

chapter 1

October 17, 2016 Monday

A blood-red sugar maple glowed next to the farm lane as the autumn sun shone through its leaves. Two cats and one dog walked in the pleasant sixty-degree weather toward the barns, the Blue Ridge Mountains at their backs.

The bottom rim of the sun, hovering over the spine of the mountains, would soon dip down, ushering in an explosive sunset followed by a beautiful twilight. The changing seasons specialized in twilights of various blues.

Animals moved about as day gave way to night. Day hunters and feeders headed for home, the night creatures popped their heads out of dens, stuck beaks out of tree hollows, preparing for activity. The deer moved toward their sleeping places, which were usually sheltered from the winds in a thicket. Even the beavers stopped timbering, carrying a few thinner branches toward their lodge. That would be tomorrow s task, trimming the branches.

Mrs. Murphy, the tiger cat; green-eyed Pewter, the overlarge gray cat; and Tee Tucker, the intrepid corgi, relished this time of day. With a few barks from Tucker, the retiring deer bolted as the domesticated animals chased after them. Deer were so much bigger, to see them scatter away just puffed up the three amigos. A few harsh words might be exchanged with the fox whose den extended under the roots of an ancient walnut.

The turtles, the salamanders, the fish and crayfish prepared for night. When they sat by the creek, the cats would stare at the freshwater creatures, but in the main they found the fish boring. Birds, on the other hand, squawked, chattered, spit seeds, dropped earthworms on them, cussed the cats unmercifully.

A blue jay looked down from a poplar tree. Empty-handed.

We weren t hunting. Pewter detested that bird.

You couldn t catch a mouse if your life depended on it. Fat, fat, water rat, the handsome bird taunted.

Before Pewter could return the insult, Tucker looked up. She d heard the sound wind makes through feathers built for speed as opposed to feathers designed for stealth.

Overhead, not too far, a fully grown bald eagle carried bloody flesh in its talons.

The three froze. Even the blue jay shut up.

The eagle tucked its wings close to its body and made a taunting dive toward the three pets, who flattened on the lane. At the last minute, the bird opened its wings, a span seemingly as long as a Cadillac, turned slightly, and with one mighty, taunting flap, off he flew.

Did you see what he had? Mrs. Murphy asked. All I saw was bloody flesh.

A piece of rawhide hung from above his talon. The dog looked at the huge bird fast disappearing, thanks to his uncommon speed.

An eyeball. He carried an eyeball in his talon hanging from the flesh, the sharp-eyed blue jay informed them. It was swinging. Blue. A blue eyeball. As blue as my feathers.

Sometimes a horse will have blue eyes, Tucker mentioned.

Human, a human eyeball. They re easy to identify, really. Somewhere out there is a person with half a face, the blue jay proclaimed, opened wide his own wings, lifted off toward the house.

The three looked at one another, then resumed walking toward the house and the barn.

Tucker, puzzled, wondered, Maybe the rawhide held the eagle. You know, he was somebody s pet and he got loose.

Tucker, a person would have to be crazy to keep a bald eagle. They re ferocious, huge, and wild, Mrs. Murphy replied.

We were once saber-toothed tigers. Pewter puffed out her chest.

Yeah, and you sold out for tuna, Tucker teased.

Better than Milk-Bones. Dogs are really dumb, Pewter shot back.

Autor

Rita Mae Brown is the bestselling author of the Sneaky Pie Brown series; the Sister Jane series; the Runnymede novels, including Six of One and Cakewalk; A Nose for Justice and Murder Unleashed; Rubyfruit Jungle; and In Her Day, as well as many other works of fiction and nonfiction. An Emmy-nominated screenwriter and a poet, Brown lives in Afton, Virginia, and is a Master of Foxhounds.

Sneaky Pie Brown, a tiger cat born somewhere in Albemarle County, Virginia, was discovered by Rita Mae Brown at her local SPCA. They have collaborated on numerous Mrs. Murphy mysteries in addition to Sneaky Pie s Cookbook for Mystery Lovers and Sneaky Pie for President.

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A Hiss Before Dying

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