Happy Rock, OR, is the stereotypical small town found in books and sitcoms created by native NYCers. Everyone is quirky. There is exactly one of every type of business (even florist when there can’t be enough sales to keep it afloat), all locally-owned by the same families for at least 3 generations. Everything is in easy walking distance, except the big city which is an hour’s drive. And there are no possible secrets. Enter Hollywood has-been Miranda, former star of an 80s(?) mystery show. She’s broke and forgotten, but delusional that she’s still entitled to full star treatment. The first half of the book is dull exposition in flashbacks, reminiscences, and awkward character introductions. The authors start promising there is a murder coming at about the 40% point. They do not bother with subtle foreshadowing, going more for pleading readers to stick around. The actual murder happens at 64%. wow. Miranda believes she was the intended victim and pretty much accuses all of the other characters, mostly based on her “humorous” misunderstanding of these characters based on the how they were all initially (mis)introduced — to Miranda and to readers. Eventually she gets it right in the lamest drawing room reveal scene ever. And we know self-centered Miranda has grown as person because she doesn’t rush back to LA at the end. It’s the worst Hallmark movie tropes forcibly merged into the blandest cozy.