Put down your wine glass and pick up your magnifying glass because the Real Housewives franchise just got a murder-y makeover.
The Garden State Goddesses are a reality tv cash cow for the Huzzah network execs, and harried producer Eden is hoping this season will be the most explosive yet and she'll get a promotion and ticket out of New Jersey and into the big time in New York. She's so desperate for success that she's convinced her ingenue cousin Hope to join the cast. Only Hope's got secrets that may be too hot for tv. Then, when a cast member meets an untimely end, Eden is scrambling to keep her own life together, the cameras rolling, and solve the mystery. It's like Real Housewives meets Knives Out. The Really Dead Wives of New Jersey by Astrid Dahl is good, campy fun. Dahl nails the over-the-top reality vibes and the reality show structure with zingy one-liners and camera confessionals. Those camera confessionals necessarily mean its a book with a lot of exposition. Unfortunately, Dahl takes it too far with a ton of "telling" on the rest of the pages, as well. After being told about one exciting scene after another, instead of living it with the characters, I started to wonder if Dahl just had too much material for the book and spent too much time in the first half on backstory so she sped us right past the middle.
The novel also struggled to decide what kind of book it wanted to be. For me, it's a fun work of women's fiction that's playing dress up as a murder mystery. After all, the murder only happens halfway through and while the murder investigation has its moments - and I was glad to finally see Eden had a soul (for a producer, anyway) - it's more of a quick skim than a deep dive.
Is this book the crime/mystery/thriller it wants to be? Not really. Is it a good time anyway? Absoultely. The Really Dead Wives of New Jersey is like binge-watching reality TV: you know it's ridiculous and if you look too closely you'll realize those designer handbags are just cheap knock-offs, but you're entertained and that's what matters.
This book comes out January 14, 2025, just in time to blot out the post-holiday blues. So, grab your biggest TJ Maxx Audrey-Hepburn-esque sunglasses, pour yourself an oversized glass of two buck Chuck, and get ready for some murderous melodrama. 3/5 stars.
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