On her latest case, wisecracking Private Investigator, Helena Handbasket, is faced with a lot of tough questions.
Did Robin Banks have a hand in the theft of Evan Stubezzi's jewels? And if so, was the hand one of those packed in ice in the freezer box that was delivered to his brother, Owen?
Is there a serial killer on the loose? Or are all those handless corpses with scarlet fish sewn into their chest cavities purely coincidental?
What shoes should you wear for a meeting with a killer?
Why does her next-door neighbour smell of cheese?
Which of her true loves is her real true love? And, more importantly, is ther anything in the fridge for dinner?
Can our man-loving, cocktail-loving, food-loving, not-so-very-intrepid heroine answer these questions-any of them-without leaving a cliche unturned?
From the git go this parody of crime fiction is off to a manic pace and you laugh yourself silly! There is a jewel theft and a serial killer so there really is crime to solve but oh my what a road to get there! She hits on almost every single stereotype and crime suspects you could imagine...
- Crime solving cat
- Obsessive serial killer
- FBI profiler
- Body parts in freezers
- Drinking and eating (every time she makes herself a cocktail she gives the whole recipe for it and it's amazing what she whips up from the 'leftovers' in her fridge!)
- Long suffering secretary who spoke, beatnik?
- Unsolved jewelry heist
- Cars exploding
- ready to retire cop
- Sex or the lack of it
The characters names are hilarious! Robin Banks, Owen Banks, Fifi Fofum, Luke Warmwater, Justin Case, Katya Fallingstar, Frank Lee, Hal Litosis, Sally Mander, Gene Poole and more!
If parody is up your alley and you love to laugh this one might be for you! Nonstop silliness and a solved crime at the end.
Here are some excerpts that had me roaring...
'I took my tray back into the kitchen, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I passed. Had I really looked that bad when Owen Banks came into the office? Damn, I needed to smarten up my act, lose a hundred pounds or so, get my hair done, buy a new wardrobe, book myself in for a course of liposuction and some serious plastic surgery. One thing at a time. I combed my mousy brown hair and twisted it into an approximation of a neat, Audrey Hepburn-like French twist. It was the closest I would get to looking like Audrey Hepburn. As it was, I looked as though I had eaten Audrey Hepburn. I definitely needed to find my gym membership card. People say that I do resemble a film star, though. Unfortunately, it's Margaret Rutherford.'
And conversation with Fifi was a riot!
'Who was the big lug with the sour puss who just dusted out? He looked down on his uppers and shit outta luck. What was he, some sorta hatchet man?' Fifi nodded her red beehive, backcombed to within an inch of its life, towards what was left of the door. 'He the one who squirted metal and put daylight in the crib door?'...
'One was Fifi. 'Helena, doll, two cackle-broads came in to see you earlier-slinky pieces of homework-friends of Robin Banks with some jingle-brained tale of dipsy doodle. We bumped gums for a while but the twists ankled like shit through a tin horn when they found out you were with the elephant ears."...
'Well sister, here's the lay. from now on, I'm your torpedo from hell to breakfast, so you're Jake. anyone messes with you while I'm onside has a head full of bees and that's flat.'
Sometimes talking to Fifi made my head hurt. I wish she came with her own translator. 'But Fifi, what about the danger aspect? How are you going to protect yourself, let alone me?'
Fifi looked hurt. 'dollface, don't vip another vop. I'm a black belt in Kung Po. anyone threatens you, I'll be all over them like a cheap suit.'
I didn't have the heart to tell her that Kung Po was a chicken dish involving cashew nuts. I sighed and gave in. 'OK, you're hired.'
I could go on and on, but then you wouldn't have to read the book for yourself!
You can read the first chapter here.