- File Size: 1920 KB
- Print Length: 283 pages
- Simultaneous Device Usage: Unlimited
- Publisher: Fahrenheit Press (November 18, 2015)
- Publication Date: November 18, 2015
- Sold by: Amazon Digital Services LLC
- Language: English
- ASIN: B0187AS6UA
- Text-to-Speech: Enabled
- Word Wise: Enabled
- Lending: Enabled
- Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #214,745 Paid in Kindle Store (See Top 100 Paid in Kindle Store)
|Print List Price:||$9.95|
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Death Of A Diva (The Danny Bird Mysteries Book 1) Kindle Edition
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After the double of humiliation of losing his job and losing his lover, Danny is ready. He has “seven boxes of out-of-date-cheese and onion crisps to provide de the sell-out sustenance ; a parlour full of hooky Polish Budweiser; a van load of liquor that appears to have come from a warehouse in Syria; a dozen cases of Shampagne…” Cheers.
But the Diva––whose ego demands massaging, whose ass requires kissing, whose face screams for tons of professionally applied makeup, whose dresses bear enough sequins for an army of Rockettes, and whose faltering will depends cocaine and booze to revive—––is not ready and never will be.
She’s been strangled and Danny Bird is a suspect.
So begins the set up to Farrell’s masterfully, effortlessly, and hilariously plotted, fresh, Noel Coward-cool, standup-comic funny, hip and totally smart cozy which he populates with fabulously vile and completely adorable characters—most of whom have every reason to want to murder the Diva with their own bare hands.
There is so much to enjoy and to admire in Death Of A Diva: a bouquet of crimson roses with the handwritten, “Die, bitch” card; a crucial clue embedded in pigswill; a flatulent, competent barmaid; the gangster named Chopper; Danny’s best friend Caz; his obliging cabby father, his ex-boyfriend and his ex-boss (“…he was wearing – apart from a small tattoo on his left pectoral of a Chinese symbol that meant either bravery or spring roll…”)
And then there’s the terrific writing:
“I opened my mouth and Dorothy Frost raised a hand to silence me. ‘Is Mr. Bird charged with anything, Frank?’
I didn’t like the Frank in that sentence. It spoke, to me, of a little too much chumminess. It felt, to be honest, like having one’s oncologist give a pet name to a particularly virulent tumour…”
The book also has one most sweetly romantic, good-natured and delicious scenes I’ve read—in which Danny and the dashing green-eyed police officer, Nick, have the London Eye all to themselves in the middle of the night:
“Below us the frost-rimed city twinkled; the sparse traffic whooshing by on the embankment in silent blurs of light… Moments passed, our breaths coming in tiny clouds that disspipated in the cold moonlight. … I stared over Nick’s shoulder at the illuminated face of Big Ben… ‘Now, before it gets cold,’ he stepped to the bag, withdrawing a tin foil box and carefully peeling back the lid, ‘home-made bread and butter pudding with real custard. And yours,’ he presented a spoon to me, ’is the honour of the first mouthful.”
Derek Farrell has crafted a hilarious, virtuoso and edgy mystery that does much more than tell us who done it––although it does that brilliantly; he’s also written a wise contemplation of starting over, friendship, rejection, failure, and yes––love.
That’s why Death Of A Diva is such kick-ass and thoroughly smart and wonderful series debut.
I love Danny Bird. I love Caz. Ditto for Nick. And I can’t help loving poor, bitchy Lyra, just a little.
Now hurry up, D.F.. and bring us book two.
It was nice to read a book that was just FUN!