You are one-of-a-kind.

There’s nobody in the world quite like you, nobody who has your insight or your experiences. Out of more than eight billion people on Earth today, you are unique. You stand out — and as in the new mystery, “I’m Not the Only Murderer in My Retirement Home” by Fergus Craig, you’re not alone.

Sheldon Oaks was supposed to be a great place to live. That’s why Carol Quinn chose it.

Seventy-five years old, squat and sassy, Carol had purchased her apartment in the retirement community with cash that she’d stolen from one of the seven (or was it eight?) people she’d killed. She loved the amenities, the balcony, and the quiet was a nice touch after all those years spent in prison. As for the other Sheldon Oakers, it might be nice to have friends.

But when Carol’s new neighbors found out about her murderous past, well, they weren’t so friendly anymore. She scared them but for goodness sakes, if she murdered everyone she ever met, she wouldn’t have time to enjoy retirement, would she? No, and she figured they’d eventually see that she was no threat, until someone pushed ex-policeman Desmond off the roof of Sheldon Oaks and everyone pointed their fingers at her.

But Carol was upstairs on her balcony when Desmond was poisoned, strangled, bludgeoned, and tossed. She heard him fall on the flagstones below. Yes, she carried around a packet of strychnine for old times’ sake and yes, she had killed eight (or was it seven?) people, but she didn’t kill Desmond.

But who, among Sheldon Oaks’ staff and residents, did?

With the help of three very suspicious, semi-trusting, highly-skeptical pals Geoffrey, Catherine, and Margaret — who had each worked in some manner of police work before retirement — Carol began poking around. She had enough experience at murder to observe what had been done to Desmond, and she refused to take the rap for it. The best way she knew to exonerate herself was to figure out who’d killed him…

Tis the season to start thinking about spring, lunch outside, enjoying the outdoors, and good patio reading. You really can’t go wrong if you choose “I’m Not the Only Murderer in My Retirement Home.”

Generally, when you grab a mystery, you expect lots of creative murder in it, and this book has that in burial spades. Not to be a spoiler here, but it’s not just that Sheldon Oaks is a hotbed of mayhem — because it is, and then author Fergus Craig tops it with spit-out-your-coffee, sharp-as-a-murder-weapon humor that lands in just-right places. That makes this story enjoyable, plus a good old-fashioned comical whodunit that you’ll have fun solving. Or not.

“I’m Not the Only Murderer in My Retirement Home” has the tiniest bit of spice to it, in the form of profanity and a chaste bedroom scene. Still, it’s appropriate for anyone of any age who wants some funny with their mystery, or mystery in their humor novel. It’s one of those kinds of books you’ll like.

“I’m Not the Only Murderer in My Retirement Home” by Fergus Craig
c.2026, Berkley
$30.00
264 pages