By G. M. Malliet
"Hugely humorous, exquisitely good written, a tongue-in-cheek village secret to be savored. G.M. Malliet's arch tone and wry humor make her a author to be treasured."
--Julia Spencer-Fleming, bestselling writer of ONE was once A SOLDIER
Having spent nearly 3 years within the idyllic village of Nether Monkslip, Max Tudor is definitely acclimated to his put up as vicar on the church of St. Edwold's. This old fashioned city appears to be like the fitting new domestic for maximum, who has fled a harrowing earlier serving within the British counter-intelligence employer, the MI5. Now he has discovered a degree of peace between city escapees and yoga practitioners, artists and New Agers. yet this serenity is instantly shattered whilst the hugely vocal and unpopular president of the Women's Institute turns up lifeless on the Harvest Fayre. The dying seems like an coincidence, yet Max's education as a former agent kicks in, and sooner than lengthy he suspects foul play.
Max has ministered to the neighborhood lengthy adequate to be accustomed to alliances and animosities one of the citizens, yet this tragedy confounds him. it really is very unlikely to think somebody in his wonderful hamlet able to the crime, and but given the sufferer, he needs to recognize that nearly every body on the town had most likely fantasized in regards to the terrible woman's dying. As Max turns into extra intricately concerned, the research stirs up stories he'd fairly no longer revisit; the demons from his prior which led him to Nether Monkslip and reasons why he's so seriously invested in conserving it from damage.
Agatha-award successful writer G.M. Malliet first gained over the secret neighborhood together with her St. simply trilogy, prompting critics to match her to Golden Age greats like Agatha Christie and Dorothy Sayers. This new sequence, starting with Wicked Autumn, confirms such compliment, serving up the precise English village deliciously skewered in a brilliantly glossy model of the normal drawing room mystery.
One of The Boston Globe's most sensible Mysteries of 2011
One of Library Journal's most sensible secret Books of 2011
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Additional resources for Wicked Autumn: A Max Tudor Novel
How much corruption, he wondered now, political and personal, came about because of greed? Out of coveting what we do not have, whether it be the neighbor’s wife or the neighbor’s goods, as the commandments had so neatly encapsulated men’s motives? Back in the study with his Earl Grey, he sat distractedly tapping the cap of his pen against the writing pad. It was cold enough for a small fire, he thought, and even if it weren’t, he was going to rush the season. The sounds and smells of burning wood could always soothe if not inspire.
And in some matters, it must be said, it was to a woman the parishioners wanted to unburden themselves. For some of the men and women of the parish, there was an element of embarrassment in confiding one’s troubles to such a handsome male specimen, however kindhearted and well-intentioned he might be. But the tide had turned, and those in the “Max Camp” had won out. Over the months leading into years, Max’s genuine and growing affection for the countryside and its people had gone a long way toward wearing away the misgivings that naturally attended on any new incumbent.
The strain of responsibility for the Fayre was showing, it was whispered, as Wanda flitted loudly from pillar to post, and shop to shop, a busy bee collecting pollen. She lingered only at the village’s single cashpoint, where a queue had collected behind old Mrs. Barrow, who as always was befuddled by the machine’s operation but too distrustful to allow anyone to help her withdraw her twenty-pound note, then moved on for a brief stop at the newsagent’s. She rushed through her usual shopping chores, basket swinging briskly from her arm, a woman with far, far better things to do than collect the cod from the fishmonger’s and the tomatoes from the greengrocer’s.