A was for A New Romance
The first time I read a mystery I was visiting my aunt and uncle’s house in Aptos, California, a small town just south of Santa Cruz. They had a sunroom on the west side of the house with a wall of bookshelves. Filled with books. For some reason I picked up A is for Alibi by Sue Grafton.
Although the book was a cozy mystery with a murder victim no one really cared about and a simple plot, I fell in love with the characters, most of all Kinsey Milhoun. Kinsey is a private detective who drives a Volkswagen beetle (so do I!) who hates to exercise (so do I!) but she does it anyway, running along the beach every morning and complaining the whole time (if I were a runner, this is how I would run). She owns one little black dress for the occasional occasions and has cobbled together a family that includes her neighbor Henry, an elderly man with twinkly blue eyes who reminds me of my granddad—if my granddad had been a baker—and Rosie, the Hungarian who runs the local restaurant/bar where Kinsey gets many of her meals. She lives in Southern California (so did I!) and is a no muss no fuss kind of woman, the kind I imagine myself to be.