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For years, Tuesday mornings were sacred. No matter what, my friend Lucy, her neighbor Birdie, and I spent the day together working on our quilts. This particular Tuesday was supposed to be just another quilty morning, but that was before we found the body.
We headed toward another quilter's house, a potential fourth member of our little group. Lucy drove down Ventura Boulevard carefully, the way women over the age of sixty often did. If I were driving, we would have been there by now. At fifty-five I was the youngest and hadn't yet reached the age of hugging the right shoulder of the freeway at forty-five miles per hour. So I leaned back in the rear seat of Lucy Mondello's vintage 1960 Cadillac, sank into the luxurious creamy leather, and enjoyed the ride.
As we drove, I stared at the back of her head. It resembled the Santa Monica Mountains during a brush fire. Bright orange tufts of hair sprang up like burning chaparral from her scalp. "You've done something different to your hair, Lucy."
"Well, I decided to try a new color late last night. When I finally got to bed, Ray woke up and turned on the lamp. Then real quick he turned it off and rolled with his back to me. The bed started to shake, and I got scared. I said, 'Ray! We're having an earthquake.' Then he snorted and laughed out loud."
"He didn't." Birdie turned to look at Lucy.
"Oh yes he did. He told me, 'All you need are floppy shoes and a big red nose.'"
We all laughed. I could picture him stifling his laughter in the pillow to avoid hurting Lucy's feelings.
Lucy sighed. "He's lucky I love him so much or he'd be in bow-coo trouble today." Then she glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "Is it really so bad?"
What could I say to my best friend? Ray was right—you do look like Bozo? I just smiled and shrugged.
"I guess I'll have to cut this mess off."
Birdie clutched the grab bar above the passenger door with one hand while she nervously twirled the end of her long white braid with the other. Birdie Watson had been uneasy around cars ever since her driver's license was confiscated. While attempting to park her car a couple of years ago, she hit the accelerator instead of the brake and ran her car through the wall of our favorite quilt store. Because she was over seventy, the DMV made her go through a driving test, which she failed when she rammed a police car while attempting to parallel park.
"You could wear your hair like Jamie Lee Curtis or Dame Judi Dench. You'd look really good in short hair." Leave it to Birdie to try to smooth things over. She was the earth mother type, a magnet for the lonely and wounded. Clearly Birdie's kindness was the main reason Claire was drawn to our group. None of us really knew much about the woman we were visiting, so we all agreed—today would be a sort of trial. If we liked Claire Terry, she was in. If not, well, we hadn't thought that far yet.
We drove west on Ventura Boulevard, approaching Woodland Hills. The Google printout directed us to drive south on Canoga Avenue. "Claire's street should be about a mile up."
Lucy got into the left turn lane. "You know, I'm having second thoughts about this. As a matter of fact, I've had one of my funny feelings all morning."
I did a mental eye roll. Lucy often claimed she had a sixth sense about things, but I attributed her insights to natural intuition sharpened by raising five sons. "What are you channeling now?"
"Claire Terry is only in her early forties. Why would she want to hang out with a bunch of 'old broads' like us?" Lucy waggled her fingers in one of those air quotes she was so fond of.
"Speak for yourself. I'm not old yet. I'm still having hot flashes."
"Seriously, how much do we know about her anyway?"
Birdie looked at Lucy. "She's the best quilter in the guild. Always wins first prize in the shows. I always make a point to talk to her at the guild meetings, and when I suggested we get together, she seemed truly pleased. I think she's just shy."
Lucy smiled. "You're always befriending somebody. Let's hope she doesn't turn out to be a psycho like that other woman—what was her name? The one who voted for Bush and stole your antique scissors?"
I pointed my finger to the left. "Here she is." We were in an upscale neighborhood with Beamers and Mercedeses parked in the driveways. Lucy steered the huge old Caddy awkwardly onto Claire's circular drive, black fenders thrusting up in back like shark fins.
Claire's large Mediterranean-style house had a red tile roof and stucco the color of ripe cantaloupe. The front door was painted cobalt blue.
Birdie spoke first. "Will you look at this! I had no idea Claire lived in such a beautiful home."
Lucy turned off the motor. "Wow. What does her husband do for a living?"
I remembered hearing some stories at the board meetings about Claire Terry's divorce several years ago. I couldn't stand people who gossiped and I never repeated a confidence. However, telling stuff to my best friends wasn't gossiping, it was data sharing. "Messy divorce. Her money."
"I don't think so."
Lucy was way taller than me and all elbows and angles. She seemed to unfold as she got out of the car like a large manila envelope refusing to stay closed. In addition to always wearing perfect makeup, Lucy was known for dressing with a theme. Once I'd seen no fewer than four Christmas sweaters hanging in her closet. Today's theme was gold. Her size ten slacks were honey colored and her blouse was a leopard print. She wore a hunk of amber the size of a hard-boiled egg on a gold chain around her neck.
I gathered my rather large fabric tote bag and dragged it across the seat. Inside was my latest quilt, made of blue and white fabrics in a pattern called Corn and Beans. Also inside was a wooden quilting hoop and a little plastic box full of quilting notions—special coated thread designed to slide easily through the fabric without tangling, small scissors to cut the thread, needles for quilting called "betweens," a metal thimble to push the needle through the fabric, a round circle of rubber to grab a needle stuck in the fabric, and an emergency package of M&M's.
I scooted out Birdie's side of the car and tugged the hem of my white T-shirt down over my size sixteen Liz Claiborne stretch denim jeans. When you had a figure like mine, you used every trick in the book to camouflage the excess weight. Shirts stopping at midhip were the most flattering, but they did tend to ride up.
I opened Birdie's door to help her out of the car. When I bent over, my hair flopped in my face. Having curly hair is both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, you don't have to blow-dry your hair, because it could become frizzy. On the other hand, your choice of hair styles is limited. My curly mop hasn't changed since I marched in antiwar demonstrations in the seventies. Well, almost. Now it's gray.
Birdie winced as she grabbed my hand and slowly got out of the car, putting her weight on her arthritic knees. Once she was vertical, she adjusted her signature denim overalls.
I suspected Birdie was a hippie back in the day. A while back she showed us a blue chambray work shirt she embroidered with brightly colored rainbows and peace signs in the 1960s for her husband, Russell. Somehow, I just couldn't picture prissy old Russell Watson wearing mutton chops and love beads.
I walked slowly with Birdie, who limped in her brown suede Birkenstocks. Lucy loped ahead of us with her long-legged, no nonsense stride. Anyone watching us would have seen three ordinary women of a certain age carrying large tote bags full of quilting stuff. Nobody would have taken a second look at us. Older women became invisible, especially in the culture of LA.
Lucy reached out and rang the doorbell. No one answered. After a minute, she rang the bell again. Still no answer.
"We're on time, aren't we?" Birdie whispered.
Lucy raised her eyebrows and gave us a meaningful look. "My bad feeling is getting worse."
I walked over to a front window, shoved my glasses back on my nose, and peered inside. The walls were painted a golden yellow. Wide hardwood planks covered the floors. A quilted masterpiece featuring appliquéd flowers and birds hung prominently on the wall behind a comfy-looking sofa.
There was something on the hallway floor. I squeezed closer to the window and put my hands around my face to cut out the glare.
A pair of red shoes ...
Feet inside the shoes, and legs ...
I couldn't see more because the wall was in the way.
"I think there's someone lying on the floor."CHAPTER 2
"See if you can open the door." I stared at the body on the floor.
Lucy turned the knob, but the door was locked. She rushed over to the window. "Let me see."
Birdie came over, too, mashing her nose against the glass. "Good heavens. Is that Claire?"
I was about to pull my cell phone out of my bag to call 9-1-1 when a slender blonde in a red halter top and white shorts came out of the house next-door. She was carrying gardening shears. I hurried over to her yard and asked, "Do you know the woman who lives here? Claire Terry?"
"Of course. Why?"
"I think something has happened to her."
"Nobody answered the doorbell, so I peeked in the window. Someone is lying on the floor."
"Oh my God. I know where she keeps a spare key." She threw down the gardening shears and ran over to the corner of Claire's house, reached through a locked wrought iron gate, and took a key from somewhere on the side of the house. Then she sprinted like an athlete to the front door and opened the lock while I power walked right behind her.
She stuck her head inside the door. "Claire?" No answer.
"Over there." Birdie pointed to the red shoes.
We rushed forward and stopped suddenly at the sight of Claire Terry, lying on her back with a ring of dried yellow vomit around her mouth.
The blonde gasped. The whites of her eyes showed, and the skin of her face turned green. Her voice, small and high pitched, squeaked, "Is she dead?"
Claire lay on her back with one arm at her side and the other resting on her stomach. She wore a red cotton sundress and those red shoes. Faint freckles dotted her pale pretty face, turned slightly to the right, and her eyes stared vacantly at the wall. Her long dark hair spread out behind her head in a tangled fan. Under her right cheek her hair was crusted with vomit. She looked like a delicate porcelain doll discarded by a careless child.
I got on my knees and put my fingertips on her neck. Her flesh felt cold and wooden, and she smelled sour. I shuddered and felt light-headed. Tiny polka dots danced before my eyes and I thought I might faint. I blinked rapidly, took a deep breath, and quickly pulled my hand away. "No pulse."
Birdie clutched Lucy's arm. "Oh dear. What about CPR?"
The blonde looked at the vomit on Claire's face. "You don't mean mouth to mouth...."
Lucy pointed. "Look at her eyes. People don't sleep with their eyes wide open unless they're dead."
She was right. This pretty young woman was gone. Pity squeezed my heart.
Birdie's voice hovered on the edge of hysteria. "Well, put a mirror under her nose. Does anyone have a mirror in their purse?"
I looked at Birdie and shook my head. "We're too late, Birdie. She's gone."
Lucy put her arm around Birdie's shoulders. "Come on, hon'. Let's go outside and wait while Martha calls nine-one-one."
I reached over and pushed her eyelids closed. Then I got on all fours, grunted, and stood up butt first; there was no other graceful way to do it. Being overweight was such a bummer.
I pulled my cell phone out of my tote bag and dialed 9-1-1. One recent TV muckraker reported the emergency lines in Los Angeles were often so busy a person could wait several minutes to get through. This must have been one of those times. How long would Claire have lain there if we hadn't come along? Who would have been the first to discover her? How awful to end your life alone.
I thought about how I wanted to die: in my own bed, surrounded by sobbing family and friends. My ex-husband, Aaron, would grab my hand and tell me tearfully, "I was so wrong to leave you. I was a total jerk. You were the best thing that ever happened to me. Can you ever forgive me?"
Tears stung my eyes as the poignant scene played out in my head. I'd look at him and whisper with my dying breath, "It's too late, moron."
Then a voice came on the line. "Nine-one-one Emergency."
"I want to report a death."
"What's the address?"
I turned to Claire's neighbor for the information. The dispatcher instructed us to go outside and wait for the police.
The blonde stood transfixed, staring at Claire's body. The way she ran, I thought she was much younger. I was envious of her slender thighs and the way her shorts didn't ride up at the crotch, like mine would if I owned a pair—which I didn't. I couldn't wear shorts because of my ample thighs. The skin of her cheeks was unnaturally tight and tugged a teensy bit at the corners of her mouth. I estimated she was closer to my age than Claire's.
I would bet my new microwave her perky boobs were one hundred percent saline. If I put my large breasts inside a halter top, they'd fall to my waist.
Los Angeles was full of women like Claire's neighbor—hovering around menopause and desperate to hang on to their lost youth. Women who still wanted to be seen.
"My name's Martha. Martha Rose." I touched her arm, attempting to snap her out of her trance.
She looked at me with tears rolling down her cheeks. "I'm Ingrid. Claire and I weren't just neighbors, we were friends. I can't believe she's dead."
"Come on." I took her arm and gently led her away. "Let's go outside with the others and wait for the police."
Ingrid sniffed and came with me.
Lucy patted Birdie's hand as they sat on a painted wooden bench outside the front door. Birdie dabbed her eyes with a tissue and kept muttering, "Poor, poor Claire."
I introduced Ingrid to my friends and she smiled politely. The muscles in her face barely moved.
"We have to wait for the police."
We sat on the porch steps. Ingrid put her forehead in her hands and cried softly. "What do you think happened?"
"Well, she could have had a seizure or a stroke or even a heart attack," I said.
Ingrid looked ready to puke.
I edged away a little. "Are you okay?"
She stood up. "I'm feeling woozy. I've gotta go home." She staggered back through her yard and disappeared inside her house.
Lucy sighed. "If I were a drinker, I'd be going for a stiff one right about now."
Birdie nodded. "I wouldn't blame you. I could use a nice stiff cup of tea myself."
A couple minutes later the sirens announced the arrival of the EMTs with an ambulance; right behind them were the police and a fire truck. Uniformed officers secured the house and told us to stay put.
Twenty minutes later a silver Camry arrived and parked on the street. A tall man got out, put on a gray suit jacket, and ducked under the yellow tape stretched across the driveway. A shorter man got out of the passenger side and followed behind him.
The tall one was about my age, only in much better shape. He had a shock of gray hair and a white mustache.
Be still my beating heart. There were two things in a man I was a sucker for: foreign accents and neat facial hair.
He stopped briefly and nodded at us. "Ladies." Then he disappeared inside the house with his much younger partner.
Ten minutes later they came back outside. "I'm Detective Arlo Beavers with the LAPD." The tall one handed each of us a business card. "I'd like to ask you some questions."
His dark eyes looked at me and I morphed into a silly, simpering bowl of vanilla pudding. Heck. I hated when that happened. I didn't feel out of control very often; I was a natural leader. Treasurer of our quilt guild. Retired UCLA administrator. Now my self-assurance slowly slipped away.
How did we know Claire? When did we arrive? How did we get in the house? Where did we go once we were in the house? Did we touch the body? Did we see anyone else? Where is the neighbor now? During the interview, he sent his partner to question Ingrid. I spilled my guts. By the end of the interview, Detective Beavers knew every single detail we knew about Claire. I even dished the dirt on the rumors surrounding her divorce. Rumors I had kept from my best friends. I had no shame.
Excerpted from Forget Me Knot by Mary Marks. Copyright © 2014 Mary Marks. Excerpted by permission of KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Posted April 14, 2014
I am a quilter and a group of us get together once a week to sew, so that part of the plot was very familiar.
I have to admit I went to school with Mary Marks and found out about this book on Facebook where I also saw
some of her beautiful quilts; but I digress. I enjoyed the humor and the way the main character makes fun of
herself because of her age - kind of hits home. The story line was believable and entertaining. I am looking
forward to her next book.
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Posted February 25, 2014
I gave it 5 stars because I was entertained, the suspense was good, learned something more about quilts, clean read, clever and believable cozy mystery.
The plot was good. Three friends who get together every Tuesday to quilt together are going to a different quilters house to see if she would be a good fit with them and join their group. When they get their no one answers the door. So they look into the house through window and see a body.
The mother of Claire asked Martha to look into Claire's quilts because she once remarked that her quilts were her journals.
The story focusing on the quilts and what story they told I thought was very clever and different. It made me want to look into more quilts shows and their history. I love quilts have only tied mine. I can't believe that some go for $10,000.
The characters are great. The three friends Martha, Lucy and Birdie are older women. Martha is single and the younger of the three in her 50's. Lucy has a great family. Birdie is caring. The three get together to try and figure out what Claire's quilts are really saying. They figure out a lot.
The book had great pacing. It kept me reading and wanting to know more about Claire and her quilts.
The setting is Los Angels.
The story was full of drama, history, action, mystery and humor with a touch of romance thrown in along the way. I would read another book in this series in the future.
I was given this book to read and in exchange agreed to give honest review of it by Netgalley and Kensington Books
Expected publication: January 7th 2014 by Kensington Books 384 pages ISBN 9780758292056
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Posted January 20, 2014
This would have been a great beginning to a new cozy series, if the author didn't seem determined to push what I assume is her political views. Because of that I won't be reading any more by this author
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Posted January 25, 2014
I have had such marvelous success lately with cozy mysteries, and this new series is no exception. I have never read any of those "quilting mystery" books that are so popular on the internet these days, but this one is certainly not to be missed. Just to give you an idea of how rapidly I read it, I began on a Friday, and by the end of work that day, I was more than halfway through the book. It was then a swift finish on Saturday afternoon, and I genuinely never wanted to set the book down. I will also say that I did not figure out "who done it." I determined it was not who everyone believed it was, but the cleverness of the story line was quite refreshing.
Again, no graphic sex (implied, but not detailed), and essentially no profanity. If there was any, it was so minimal that I have forgotten it. I could exonerate Martha's (the main character shares my daughter's name) Democratic affiliation because she was so amiable. And it is as though she just happens to be in the right place at the right time, and she never gives up. Since this is the first in the series, there should be plenty more in the future. The romance should keep things pretty hot for many more books to come.
I appreciated the humor in this book, and I am quite astounded that this is Mary Marks's first mystery. I can highly recommend this one, and don't let the length of the book keep you from checking it out. Because her writing style is so down-to-earth, you will find it a quick read. Concerned that the age of the sleuth will not keep things riveting? (Martha is in her 50's.) It is clear that this woman is sharp, quick-witted, and downright lovable!
I was sent a copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. I was not financially compensated, and all opinions are 100 percent mine.
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Posted November 9, 2014
This book was humorous. Granted, it was about a murder, but the main character and her two companions provided the comic relief. Have never read a quilting mystery, and the secret revealed by the quilts belonging to the murder victim are amazing.
Will be happy to read the next in the series!
Posted November 7, 2014
I liked this book for an easy read. The main character was very witty. An amusing, little bit funny about a serious situation,
A good mixture. All of the characters were described where you could just have any easy picture of each character.
Posted November 4, 2014
This was an entertaining read beginning to end. I loved the main character, Martha, who doesn't take herself too seriously. She also is a woman "of a certain age" as am I which pulled me into the story, as did the quilting background. It's a cosy mystery with an intriguing plot line, friends, love, and with quilting to tie everything together. I can't wait to start the next in the series, which I just purchased!Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted October 18, 2014
Posted August 18, 2014
Very well written, hard to believe this is a debut novel! Excellent mystery with some pretty clever twists that I didn't see coming. Yes, there are probably 3 brief indications that the main character is a Democrat, part of those conversations also reveal that her very best friends are Republicans ..... this is so inconsequential that I find it incredible other reviewers not only mention it, but they lower the rating & quit reading because of a brief mention of the political opinion of ONE character. Also - yes, the main character has a budding relationship & a kiss is shared. Again - nothing sexually explicit, I hope the author continues to describe the personalities of her characters, as well as the development of their relationships. This was a terrific read and I look forward to more from this author. No swearing. Great descriptive storytelling, nothing graphic.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted June 22, 2014
I really enjoyed this book. Martha is a very likable character as well as her best friends and quilting buddies Lucy and Birdie. I loved the multiple mystery of murder and theft. I got a little irritated when Martha doesn't share well with police but it was easily overlooked because clues just kept popping up and what interesting clues they were. I found the whole idea fascinating and the whole wow factor of the background mystery. It definitely had my jaw dropping quite a few times. I will definitely continue on with this series.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted January 30, 2014
Forget Me Knot by Mary Marks
Really enjoying this book because all the time the story is being told there are snips of very useful quilting information.
Love how the story starts out with a bunch of women who are quilters and they join together to go to various events, until one is found dead. And they were the first on the scene, then the next event happens and again they are first on the scene.
Like this book so much and I'm not even 4 chapters into it that I know I am going to enjoy the next in the series. The cast of characters are very similar to ones of my mother's age who I've been known to hang around with at times, to quilt.
Everything is described in such detail you can just picture it in your mind as if you are watching a movie.
When Claires' relatives want the truth about the murder Martha Rose is given permission to search Claire's quilts for a hidden message. Such a treasure when she talks about the quilts, the story quilt in itself can tell the life of someone.
Because she has studied so much about the history of quilts, texture, etc she knows what to look for and hope it's in time to solve the mystery.
With the leads she uncovers she is not so sure who is the killer....the detective keeps telling her to stay out of it or she'll end up dead... totally amazing how she learns the secret of the coded quilt...
A handful of characters that are easy to keep track of and with all the details of the places traveled to this is a good read, especially the quilting tips along the way-many I learned from my mother. Excerpt from the next one is included.
I received this book from The Kennsington Books in exchange for my honest review
Posted January 19, 2014
When Martha and her friends from "Quilty Tuesdays" decide to invite Claire Terry into their group, they never would have guessed
that when they stopped by to visit her, - they would find her dead inside her home. They quickly become more involved with the murder investigation than they want to be, especially when several of their quilts are stolen including one of Claire's!
Martha is a sweet character (she is over 50, slightly overweight, stubborn and independent) and loves to quilt.
When Claire's mother asks Martha to help her figure out who the killer is, Martha cant resist....even if it puts her in harms way. If you are a quilter, you will love the descriptions of the different quilts, and I especially loved all of the descriptions of how Claire used french Knots in her quilts. It sounds like the french knots were a wonderful addition! I liked the romance element in the story also. The mystery had me guessing until the end!
"Was it just my imagination, or was he looking at me again? All of a sudden, I had the pulse rate of a hummingbird and a hot flash was coming on."
Posted January 18, 2014
When asked to help promote this new series, I knew I couldn’t say no. I’ve found a new favorite in these cozy mysteries and that synopsis was one I couldn’t turn down.
It’s just another normal Tuesday for Martha and her friends Lucy and Birdie. Known as Quilty Tuesday, the friends spend the day working on their quilt projects together. This specific Tuesday they are headed to the home of Claire, a potential new member to the group. Things take a horrific turn as the group arrives and finds Claire dead on her kitchen floor. When her prize-winning quilts are stolen, along with Martha’s and Birdie’s, Martha decides to play detective. As she searches for the truth, she discovers a lot more than she bargained for and realizes not everything is as it seems.
I just loved the main character, Martha. She was very stubborn and wouldn’t take no for an answer. She is also loyal by default and stays true to her word. Although good qualities, they tend to get her into trouble as she unravels the mystery behind Claire’s quilts. Butting heads with the lead detective on the case is one of those troubles, despite the fact that there seems to be a spark between the two. That spark ignites once the case is closed and a kiss is shared between them.
What a fabulous debut! Marks is an award-winning quilter and she has taken this knowledge, along with the help of a mystery writing course, and developed a superb intro into this new series. Throw in some surprising twists and turns, add a dash of humor and you have a compelling read that leaves questioning everyone and everything up until the very end. I can’t wait to see what develops between Martha and the detective and what mischief she gets herself into next.
I would recommend this book to all lovers of cozies. If you’re looking for a light read with a mix of humor and mystery added in, this is definitely a book you want to give a try.
I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me, in exchange for my honest review.
Posted January 9, 2014
Martha and her besties Lucy and Birdie are set to expand their Quilty Tuesdays by inviting newcomer Claire Terry into their group. Though at forty Claire’s a tad younger than their average age, her crafty reputation could perk up their patchwork proceedings, especially as they prepare for the fancy quilt show coming to town. But when they arrive at Claire’s home and find her dead inside the front door, and her exquisite, prize-winning quilts soon missing, Martha is not one to leave a mystery unraveled. Especially if she wants to stop a killer from establishing a deadly pattern…
Before my accident I was a avid quilter and it is one of the things I miss most but reading books like this let me escape back into the world of quilting with the mystery of a dead body thrown in just for fun. I would love to be part of Martha, Lucy and Birdie’s Quilty Tuesday group.
I can’t believe this is the author’s first cozy, she has nailed it perfectly.
Fabulous, real characters. I love Martha. I can relate because I am 50ish, overweight, love food, hate to cook and a horrible failure when it comes to dieting. She also has great friends, loves to quilt and likes to solve mysteries. But she does put herself in danger and does break a few laws which even land her behind bars. Something I have thankfully not experienced :)
Marks also tackles some powerful issues in this story. There is a mystery behind the mystery that just broke my heart. I was impressed how this subplot was presented and revealed. As a quilter I know that many quilts tell a story but after reading Forget Me Knot I will never look at a quilt the same way again.
This is a perfectly plotted and paced story with some very surprising twists that have stuck with me well beyond the final page.
A wonderful way to start 2014!!
Posted January 6, 2014
Great debut mystery!
I won a free copy of this book through a Goodreads, First Reads giveaway in exchange for my honest opinion.
The characters and mystery story were very well developed. I enjoyed the plot very much and was very intrigued to find out who murdered Claire Terry and why. I loved the fact that all 3 of the main characters were 55 or older. I also enjoyed all of the quilting descriptions and explanations throughout the story.
One of the quoted author reviews on the back called this a “cozy debut.” In my mind that meant that this was going to be a clean murder without sexual references in it. I may be being too harsh with my judgment since there are no explicit sex scenes. But there are brief references that in my opinion could just have easily been left out and the story would not have been affected. This bothered me enough that I did drop the possible 5th star from my rating. The story is well written and if these brief references won’t bother you I highly recommend that you read this book.
Posted January 3, 2014
I love starting a new series that doesn't have too many books behind the authors belt, it's like meeting a new friend that you can form a great relationship with. This book was no different. Martha Rose, and her two friends form a quilting circle of their own and have decided to include Claire Terry to their mix if they can all get along.
Not long into this book Clair Terry is found dead and Claire's mother makes contact with Martha Rose for helping finding the stories Claire quilted. Of course many people seem to have motives to want to silence Claire, and Martha Rose has to sort through them all to find out the guilty party.
I loved Mary Marks ability to write this story and reminds me of Elizabeth Lynn Casey's Southern Sewing Circle. Women are both around the same age give or take. I definitely love the characters of Ray and Lucy they are so great together and all the quilting girls come together to help Martha Rose in anyway they can.
Posted April 22, 2014
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Posted June 8, 2014
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Posted February 2, 2014
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