Dying in the wool

I believe I have reached my limits with this one, and I have decided to set it aside. I really like reading a good British mystery that is light and cozy, once in a while. However, this one is too light and not cozy at all in my opinion. Unless ‘‘cozy'' means being bored to death.

The writing is stalled as well as the interactions between the characters, the story goes on and on, because the author has put the heroine walking in circles, deliberately, to add more pages to the book. Kate Shackelton is not a particularly interesting sleuth either, certainly not enough to make me want to finish the novel. How many times can one read her wardrobe's content? She starts each step of the investigation by describing her choice of clothes for the day, and frankly, this is boring.

When I am reading a mystery and I don't feel compelled to return and see how things will conclude, then it is time to abandon it. In my opinion, this is one of the worst cozy mysteries I have ever come across.