The Lost – J.D. Robb et al

The Lost is a anthology of four novellas, headlined by an Eve Dallas story ‘Missing in Death’. The stories vary in quality.  One last comment – there was some seriously sloppy proofing on this books.  Holding the horse’s reigns?  That was twice!  What did they review it with, a BlackBerry’s spell-checker?  There were a few typos-as-grammatical errors and another word misuse as bad as reigns.  Sheesh.

Missing in Death

As you might guess from the In Death, the genre is romantic mystery.

Peabody has a few endearing moments in this story ‘Can’t I indulge in five minutes of woo – it’s an occasion to have a cute guy flirt with me.  Got it sir, banking the minutes for later’…

The plot itself is thin, and Peabody is the highlight of this particular outing.

The Dog Days of Laurie Summer

A solid three-star.

The second novella is The Dog Days of Laurie Summer, by Patricia Gaffney, and this was my favourite of the bunch. A career-focused woman is in a coma and finds her consciousness appearing in a dog adopted by her husband and son.  Happy ending, etc… which was a little too neat and quick, but forgivable.  Might have worked out VERY differently for her if she’d become a cat, LOL.

And then the filler

The other two novellas were much more formulaic a romance-pulp genre.  The writing was not nearly as skilled as with the first two books, sometimes only mechanical in trotting the cliches between places.  These two also got steamy in parts. I would probably be more forgiving if I were a bigger fan of plain-old-romance, but it’s just not my thing.  In some ways, an In Death book is very close to this in following a formula, but there is usually a better mystery, or some character insight into someone, or some humor.

Lost in Paradise, by Mary Blayney – a pocket Venus nun-turned-singing-nurse has to rescue the brooding frozen-hearted master of a carribean castle from two centuries of cursed existence.  What’s the key? Yep, true love.  Like Foster avoiding thistle stems in the grass, at least I know not to step there again.

Legacy, by Ruth Ryan Langan – is poor little Aidan truly the long-lost granddaughter of the silver-maned Irish mogul?  And who is the icy-blue-eyed sable-haired awesome Irish lawyer who lives on the estate?  He’s not her cousin, which I was rooting for as a twist, he’s the soulmate. Ah, well.

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