Murder in a Country Village

I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes at first—*another* wartime village mystery? But *Murder in a Country Village* disarmed me within chapters. Everett’s Edie York is a protagonist who feels ripped from history: pragmatic, weary, but with a sharp eye for the absurdities of village life. The mystery itself is cleverly plotted, hinging on a death that’s as psychologically messy as it is physically neat. What hooked me, though, was how the book balances its cozy trappings with something darker. The villagers aren’t just eccentric; they’re *exhausted*—by war, by scarcity, by the effort of keeping up appearances. That exhaustion makes the murder feel inevitable, not contrived. Zoe Mills’ narration is a masterclass in tonal contrast. Her Edie is all clipped consonants and world-weary humor, while the villagers drips with the kind of polite venom that only the English can muster. The production is mostly flawless, though I’ll dock half a point for a few moments where the audio levels dip during whispered asides—it’s jarring when you’re leaning in to catch a clue. My other critique? The romance subplot feels tacked on, a rare misstep in an otherwise tightly woven story. But the payoff—a reveal that hinges on wartime pragmatism, not melodrama—more than makes up for it. If you like your cozies with teeth and your narrators with range, this is your next listen.