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Overview
She’s not Miss Marple. Her friends are no Charlie’s Angels. Nevertheless, 75-year-old Gladdy Gold and her gang of eccentric Fort Lauderdale retirees are out, about, and hunting down a killer–one who is silently stalking them.Selma Beller was the first to go–but Gladdy and her neighbors never suspected murder until another of their friends died in an eerily similar way. Now a handsome young detective won’t listen to them, Hy Binder won’t stop telling them dirty jokes, and crazy old Greta Kronk is doing everything humanly possible to make herself into a suspect. But amid the endless rounds of poolside kibitzing, early-bird specials, bittersweet memories, and interminable grocery-shopping trips, Gladdy and her gals are about to discover how the murders are being committed. And when it comes to catching this culprit–time really is running out….
Synopsis
She’s not Miss Marple. Her friends are no Charlie’s Angels. Nevertheless, 75-year-old Gladdy Gold and her gang of eccentric Fort Lauderdale retirees are out, about, and hunting down a killer–one who is silently stalking them.
Selma Beller was the first to go–but Gladdy and her neighbors never suspected murder until another of their friends died in an eerily similar way. Now a handsome young detective won’t listen to them, Hy Binder won’t stop telling them dirty jokes, and crazy old Greta Kronk is doing everything humanly possible to make herself into a suspect. But amid the endless rounds of poolside kibitzing, early-bird specials, bittersweet memories, and interminable grocery-shopping trips, Gladdy and her gals are about to discover how the murders are being committed. And when it comes to catching this culprit–time really is running out….
The Washington Post - Maureen Corrigan
Gladdy is a hoot. Her running commentary on everything from dinner at the deli with "the girls" (separate checks, please!) to fast-walking (or fast-shuffling) exercise sessions at the mall will divert readers from the arthritically creaky murder plot. Besides, as Gladdy admits, it even takes her a while to notice the homicidal goings-on at Lanai Gardens. As she philosophically observes: "Considering that the youngest of us is seventy-one and the oldest eighty-six, [death] is not something unexpected. I mean, everybody is on the checkout line."
Editorials
Maureen Corrigan
Gladdy is a hoot. Her running commentary on everything from dinner at the deli with "the girls" (separate checks, please!) to fast-walking (or fast-shuffling) exercise sessions at the mall will divert readers from the arthritically creaky murder plot. Besides, as Gladdy admits, it even takes her a while to notice the homicidal goings-on at Lanai Gardens. As she philosophically observes: "Considering that the youngest of us is seventy-one and the oldest eighty-six, [death] is not something unexpected. I mean, everybody is on the checkout line."— The Washington Post