About a hundred years ago I went through a phase I like to refer to as the “summer of vampire.” I read all about the sparklies, the ones from Morganville, the ones teenage girls write diaries about. I read everything I could get my hands on except those written by She Who Shall Not Be Named. Eventually a friend took pity on me and informed me about the wonderful world of adult vampire stories which featured actual peen rather than an endless case of blue balls and a leading lady whose milkshake most definitely brought all the bloodsuckers to the yard like . . . .
And . . . .
Unfortunately by book 13 I was like . . . .
But it was good while it lasted. Since I hopped on the Sookie train waaaaaaay early I was pleasantly surprised to see Charlaine Harris had written several other series and read all of those as well. And that’s how I met Aurora Teagarden . . . .
Librarian by day and . . . .
Dun dun dunnnnnnnnnn! Mystery solver by night – and also day – pretty much whatever time she can put her nosey ass into someone else’s business.
It had been years (as well as several skipped over books) since I had picked up this series, but due to Lifetime Television For Women and my maybe not so healthy girl crush on Candace Cameron Bure, Aurora had maintained a place in my heart. When All the Little Liars popped on my “recommended to you” shelf at both Goodreads and my library’s websites I figured what the hell. The weather had taken a turn to the chilly and it was a bit
Then I commenced reading. And what did I find with Aurora’s ninth adventure????
Sadly, much disappoint. After my failure with the final Southern Vampire books I should have just left well enough alone when it comes to Ms. Harris. There just wasn’t much of anything to this story. The premise of missing/dead teenagers was good, but even though All the Little Liars checked in at a measly 229 pages at least 100 of those could have probably been left on the editing room floor . . . unless you’re interested in reading about Aurora’s grocery list when she goes to the local Piggly Wiggly or what she’s wearing/eating for dinner/etc. All filler with no substance makes Mitchell an angry boy . . . .