Cici Larkin finds herself unemployed and struggling to fill her days. She languishes on her porch, reading mystery novels and avoiding her octogenarian nemesis. Unexpectedly, she finds herself drawn into a series of petty thefts and willingly dives right in. With her bestie and a supportive husband, Cici tackles the investigation, but will she solve it before time runs out?
Join Cici and her cast of neighbors as she works on finding justice, and possibly a new career.
Cici Larkin finds herself unemployed and struggling to fill her days. She languishes on her porch, reading mystery novels and avoiding her octogenarian nemesis. Unexpectedly, she finds herself drawn into a series of petty thefts and willingly dives right in. With her bestie and a supportive husband, Cici tackles the investigation, but will she solve it before time runs out?
Join Cici and her cast of neighbors as she works on finding justice, and possibly a new career.
I jolt awake with a gasp. Was that Brad's truck starting?
Catching my breath, I lay still in the early morning silence, straining to listen. No, not his truck. Reaching over I pat his side of the bed, seeking the warmth of his sleeping body. Instead, I feel the cool, crisp sheets.
Another morning that I've missed him leaving.
Yawning to the point my jaw nearly unhinges; I try to untangle myself and roll onto my side to look at the clock. Sure enough, it is after eight o'clock. Yet again, Iâve managed to sleep through both of our alarms. Bless him for getting up and getting out the door. Guess itâs my turn. Groaning again, I scrunch up my pillow and grab my phone. Time to see what the day holds. Oh yeah- a whole lot of nothing. Not even worth it to open my calendar app. I used to live by what was on the calendar. These days, I have to find things to fill my time instead of having it filled by others.
I get to lay in bed and think about profound things like- why does getting up take a little bit longer each morning? I swear, the closer I get to forty, the longer it takes. In my teens and twenties, Iâd pop up like a slice of toast, hit the shower and be out the door in under ten minutes. Not so much anymore. It is now an involved process. Stretching, grunting, slowly changing positions commences. Ultimately leading to me sitting on the edge of the bed.
Coffee is what gets me out of bed most mornings. That and tiny dogs barking to be let outside. Today will be no different. The coffee calls me like an ancient siren.
Nearly fifteen minutes later, Iâm up. Coffee acquired, robe on, porch ready. Our dogs, Coco and Aggie (Chanel and Christie of course), eagerly follow me out into the warm morning sun. It isnât hot yet, but it will be soon enough. This morning routine has settled on me easily and we now look forward to it. A month ago, I wouldnât have thought so. I've learned to enjoy peace and quiet in the mornings.
Having always been more than a little nibby, getting to sit and watch my neighbors from the porch is right up my alley. The dogs love watching all the neighbors too. We hide out on the lanai and spy on the goings on. Despite living in a community filled with retirees, there is always something going on. It may sound boring to most, but we live for it.
Gliding into the day feels like a luxury. One Iâve not had for a VERY long time.
You see, three months ago, I would have already been sitting in my cube or rushing into the first meeting of the day. The ninety-minute, white-knuckle commute added to the daily adventure. Traffic into Miami gets interesting in the mornings. Not in a fun way either. More in an "am I getting an ulcer?" kind of interesting. Donât get me wrong- I thought I was living the dream. Until one day I wasnât. My routine crashed to the ground, shattering into a thousand pieces.
That was a moment frozen in time. It was an average Wednesday, sitting in my cube, fixing yet another presentation for a colleague when I got a message that my boss needed me ASAP. I assumed it was for our upcoming meetings with clients the next day. Nope! I was one of the lucky dozen or so getting laid off. Effective immediately, in a âgrab your bag and potted plant, security is waiting for youâ style.
Before you get too sad for me, it was actually okay. I got a more than generous severance. Benefits were covered by my husband, Brad, and we lead a normal lifestyle (i.e. live within our means or is that not normal?). Basically, it wasnât the worst thing to happen to me. I mean yeah- I bawled like a baby for a full day and had more wine than I should have at dinner that night. Then I realized, I didnât even like that job. In fact, I hated working there. A healthy dose of perspective (thanks babe!) and I came to the conclusion, that this might be my shot to figure out the burning question- what so I really want to do? Time for some in-depth soul searching.
Iâm still going through my teenage list- florist, marine biologist, dog walker. The list goes on and on. The funny thing is, I never really decided what I wanted to be when I grew up. A generic degree in Business and Marketing was my major. I simply fell into my job, hopped one thing into the other, and there I landed. Initially, it seemed to be exactly what I was looking for. There were more opportunities to use my degree than other jobs in the past. But over time, it began to shift and it began to feel mundane. Who doesn't dream of building presentation decks and finding the perfect graphic? I cannot claim it was a passion, referring to it as a (seemingly) safe path is a better description. Which obviously backfired.
The looming question remains: What do I want to do? At the moment, drinking coffee in the sun sounds right. My future can be figured out later after I am properly caffeinated.
Iâm stretched out on the chaise lounge, Coco under my knees and Aggie tucked under one arm. My coffee is empty and weâre too cozy for me to consider getting up. A stack of books on the side table beckons me. I turn and start combing through. Reading is my favorite hobby, and I gobble up books by the dozens. Mysteries are the best. Especially if I canât figure out who did it. Finalizing my choice- a thriller set in an abandoned logging town, I lean back in my chair to read for a while.
âHelllllooooooo neighbor!â rings out loudly, echoing across the lawn. Itâs a shrill, nasal voice.
Edna has spotted me. The dogs go bananas, spinning in circles, yipping, and barking. It's an understatement to say, theyâre not huge fans of hers. Must have picked that up from me-don't they say dogs take after their owners?
âHang on one sec, Edna!â I reluctantly call, then usher the dogs into the house. Pausing before turning around, I make sure my robe is secure. Flashing my 80-year-old, gossipy neighbor is not on the to-do list this morning. All put together with a fake smile slapped on my face. I return to the porch, turning in time to see Edna at the edge of the walk. She moves quickly for an octogenarian in need of a hip replacement.
âNo job yet, huh?â Edna begins directly. Sheâs known for her heat-seeking conversation techniques. My brain begins flashing warning signals. Oh God, sheâs showing no mercy this morning.
âWell, Iâm taking it slow. Iâve been enjoying a little bit of a break,â I coolly snap back, immediately offended. My cheeks warm, and I can feel the flush spreading. A scowl replaces my smile. I am trying to keep my cool, but it is way too early for this. Iâm not nearly caffeinated enough for a verbal sparring match.
Edna huffs loudly and says, âIâd think youâd want to get right back to it, with the way you all are these days.â
Um, no idea what that is supposed to mean. So, I will proceed lightly. âWe decided that it is okay for me to take the time at home for now.â
âOh, how nice dear. Perhaps you can use that time to work on the house,â she runs her eyes over the front of our house and down the side. The "dear" seems as disingenuous as a "bless your heart" would have. Edna's brow is furrowed, her arms are crossed. Disapproval written boldly across her face.
Again, yikes. I donât know what to do with that. âIt will be nice to have some free time. Thereâs always a to-do list. Well Edna, as usual, itâs been a delight, but Iâve got to get crackin' on that list.â
Sensing sheâs getting the brush off, Edna tenses but wraps up the conversation with a terse, âIâll see you soon,â and heads home. Again, moving with deceptive speed. At the end of my walk, she points at the base of my tree, indicating the wreath of weeds. With an obnoxious finger wave, she finally walks down the street. I briefly consider sending out a text to let our other neighbors know she's out and about. A quick pat down before I realize, I have no idea where my phone is.
I do love our little neighborhood for the most part but geez. There are moments when I wish we had a little more space or privacy. How would I describe it other than boundaries? The kind that doesn't require a fence line. Iâm sure Edna will find a way to tattle on me to my husband when he gets home. This is a pattern. We always have a neighbor that tattles on me for something or another. Anyhow, better go hide in the house or pretend to work on a nonexistent to-do list.
Light Roast Larceny is the first book in Kate Montgomeryâs intriguing new Coastal Coffee Mystery series. With its likable and relatable characters and fascinating plot, I was completely absorbed by the story from start to finish and absolutely ready for book two.
The main character, Graciella âCiciâ Larkin, is a recently laid-off twenty-something with two feisty little dogs and Brad, her very supportive husband, and living in a well-established Miami suburb of long-term older residents. When Francine, an elderly neighbor, has her wallet stolen and encounters disrespect and dismissal by local law enforcement, Cici steps in to advocate for serious action. While at the police station, she meets new employee and Louisiana bayou transplant, Officer Chandra Boudreaux, and the young womenâs friendship quickly grows over their shared love of coffee and the delicious local breakfast pastries. They soon discover thereâs been a rash of petty thefts occurring in Ciciâs neighborhood over the previous couple of months, all targeting elderly residents who are treated in the same disappointing manner as Francine, and all dismissed with the pronouncement that theyâve just lost or forgotten where theyâve put their missing items.
I really enjoyed this story for its fun characters and plot revolving around the elderly victims. Cici is such a well-developed, relatable, and memorable character with her reactions to being suddenly laid off, dealing with her unpleasant, self-appointed neighborhood watchdog, Edna Sparks, and her daily struggle for inspiration and producing an edible meal for the dinner table each night. Brad is a joy as he lends his support to her joint investigation with her new energetic, go-getter friend, Chandra. All three are dedicated coffee and breakfast enthusiasts, and the descriptions of their various meals and ethnic pastries are mouthwatering and serve to introduce Chandra to a new love interest.
While elderly victims are not new in fiction, this story takes this theme further, with the wholesale gaslighting of the victims taking centerstage. Readers âof a certain ageâ or those with close relationships with older individuals will easily relate to these victimsâ treatment. This tactic literally angered me as I read, and I could relate to the charactersâ frustration and humiliation. These vital, competent adults were, within seconds of the start of their interview, discredited and deemed unreliable and unworthy of further attention because of their perceived age.
The perpetrators are gradually revealed, and a key element of the case remained elusive until almost the very end. However, even after the final reveal, I had questions regarding the motive for the mostly petty thefts. There doesnât seem to be much return on investment for the extensive setup, as according to the story itself, until Gerald, the values of the items involved were minor and many of sentimental value only. Still, the story was a page-turner; I had to find out how it would all turn out.
I recommend LIGHT ROAST LARCENY to cozy mystery fans, especially those with an affinity for coffee or those who enjoy stories featuring more mature characters.