Mette Ivie Harrison

Ada Latia, happily divorced after an unhappy marriage, is troubled by a link her ex has sent to her. It’s from a social media site, a story designed to spark outrage, claiming that an autistic child has accidentally killed a classmate at a school for autistics. She stares at the photo of the dead girl, a host of questions forming in her mind. The body seems posed, the room around her has been staged, and someone put makeup on the child’s face so she doesn’t look dead. Looking closer, show more Ada realizes its the line of makeup she invented for the cosmetics company she founded that now belongs to her ex. This doesn’t look like an accident. It looks to her like murder, by someone who is not autistic but who knows how to lie convincingly and put the blame on someone else.

The comments, typical of the internet, are full of slurs and insults against autistic people, people like Ada – probably the reason her vindictive ex sent it to her. After making a list of the elements in the photo that point to murder, she contacts the county sheriff in the town nearest the school to report it, but gets a brush-off. Wanting to do something, she leaves a voice mail at a public phone number for the FBI. To her surprise, she gets a call back from Agent Henry Bloodstone. He noticed the report, and wants to investigate. He’s willing to take it seriously because he went to school with Ada and knows that she may have been strange and unpopular, but is highly intelligent. If she thinks the photo is evidence of a homicide, he’s willing to travel to her home in Utah to find the truth.

The story is seen primarily through Ada’s eyes, and her interactions with Henry and the school personnel are highly influenced by twinned characteristics: an inability to read people’s nonverbal cues or understand their idiomatic speech patterns and a sharp capacity to see what others don’t see, particularly when interacting with autistic children at the school. When she has a chance to meet with the boy who has been blamed for the accidental death of a girl who had been his friend, she’s able to communicate with him despite his having retreated into nonverbal isolation after the traumatic event. He’s not responsible, she’s convinced, and someone is taking advantage of his vulnerability to cover up their crime.

While there’s a solid mystery plot here, the real focus of the story is seeing the investigation through the eyes of an autistic woman who has plenty of thoughts about the prejudices she faces and the misconceptions those around her have. The conversations between the well-meaning Henry and Ada particularly draw out these themes, as do the interviews she conducts with school personnel who are supposedly experts at educating autists but are frequently clueless or worse. At one point, the stress of being at the school, surrounded by strangers and feeling the pressure of solving the case cause Ada to have a meltdown that is vividly described from Ada’s point of view.

The author, who previously has published young adult series and the Linda Wallheim mystery series about a Mormon woman married to a bishop, was diagnosed with autism as an adult. Like the light she once shed on the patriarchal dynamics of Mormonism, this book takes us inside the world of autism. Though it’s different in style to the Wallheim series, it does a similar job of showing both the high points and the challenges of living outside the mainstream. Ada Latia makes for an intriguing heroine and will likely continue to show readers the world from an autistic angle in this new series.

Reprinted from Crime Fiction Review https://crimefictionreview.com/a-special-interest-in-murder-by-mette-ivie-harris... show less

With the Mormon Church's recent hardline decision on the LGBT community within its ranks, His Right Hand couldn't possibly be more timely. In this second book to feature Linda Wallheim, there are many secrets to be uncovered, and some of these secrets belong to Linda and her own family. The more about Carl Ashby that's uncovered, the clearer the killer's identity becomes, but proving it is tough because Church officials have closed ranks against the police. This is a maneuver that has been show more perfected over almost two centuries because of the intense persecution Mormons faced in the nineteenth century.

Linda seems more sure of herself in this second book in the series. She still questions her place in life now that her last child is off to university and out of the house, but she's calmer, and it's got a lot to do with the friendship she's formed with a neighbor. It was fascinating for me to watch Linda investigate this extremely volatile case, especially with regard to her uneasy relationship with the homicide detective in charge.

One of the strengths of this book (and the series) is the portrait of Mormonism that Mette Ivie Harrison paints for us. It is a heartfelt portrait by an artist who has done much soul-searching. It is a balanced portrait that is as honest as the artist can make it, showing both the good and the bad in this religion that most people know nothing about.

Many readers like me enjoy reading mysteries set in other countries in order to learn about different cultures. Often we forget to pay attention to the different cultures that are on our own doorstep. I find Harrison's Linda Wallheim books to be good mysteries with strong characters. That they are also meditative and enlightening is icing on the cake. show less

So, I have read a lot of retellings lately. Most of them have been worth my time and I love the original story of Tristan and Iseult. Plus, the movie Tristan and Isolde is awesome in my opinion. So I figured out that I would give this book a shot even though pretty much every review for it on Goodreads said how bad it is. They were right. Izzie (Isolde) is a high school student whose Mother is a witch who uses her powers for healing. They moved from Curneval, a hidden magical community, when show more Izzie's Dad died ten years ago. Now her life is almost perfect. She has her best friend Branna (who has been acting weird lately) and her boyfriend Mark, hot basketball team captain. They rule the school and Izzie just has to say the word for Mark to exile anyone she wants from everyone in school. Izzie thinks that the cute new guy Tristan would be a perfect boyfriend for Branna, so she steals one of her Mom's love potions to give them. But she ends up taking it herself to avoid Mark taking the rest of it when Tristan's done drinking. As a result, she finds Mark disgusting and is in love with Tristan instantaneously, seemingly for good. So with practically no fuss, Mark gets together with Branna and she gets with Tristan. Isolde is being hunted by some evil serpent from Curneval who killed her Dad and wants her dead. She has to battle off the monsters with the help of her friends and defeat the serpent to save Curneval. Izzie is shallow, selfish and dumb as a box of rocks. Anyone with ears, eyes and a brain figures out within the first twenty pages that Branna wants Mark to herself. All Izzie thinks about is how things will affect her and she strings both boys along for as long as she possibly can before having to give one up. The inclusion of magic is so asinine and unnecessary it only underlines the poor character development, lack of plot, and overall atrocious writing. I wish that I had magic in my life to help me go back in time and prevent me from reading this waste of space. NOT recommended unless you like stupid books with bubbleheaded characters.

VERDICT: 1/5 Stars

*No money or favors were exchanged for this review. This book is now available in stores and online.* show less

The Prodigal Daughter is often a very painful book to read, wrapped as it is in the #MeToo movement and the author's own life. Has the #MeToo movement made it easier to speak out about sexual assault in religious communities? Personally, I doubt it because it's much too easy to blame outsiders for the problem. It simply couldn't happen here, not with our good little boys raised in the teachings of the church! (Notice how I did not single out the Mormon church?)

Mette Ivie Harrison's life has show more become shredded due to her Linda Wallheim mysteries and her unflinchingly honest portrayal of crime in Mormon communities. I'd love to say that I'm shocked by the Mormon reaction to her writing, but after having lived in Provo, Utah, for three years, I am not. Her writing is honest. She talks about the good things the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints does. She talks about what she strongly believes in. But-- and here's the rub-- she also talks about where the Church often fails.

In The Prodigal Daughter, it's the plight of runaway and thrown-away children who either can't deal with their parents' insistence on being the perfect Mormon child or who have been thrown out because they don't live up to their parents' expectations. Harrison also paints a clear picture of Mormonism, #MeToo, and women as second-class citizens. It's not pretty, but as Linda Wallheim says, "If the truth destroys something, then it probably wasn't real to begin with."

As I said earlier, The Prodigal Daughter is often painful to read as Linda tries to find Sabrina and provide her with safety and acceptance. The truth can hurt. But it's as if all the things Harrison has been living through as she wrote this book squeezed some of the heart out of it. It feels rushed and doesn't quite measure up to previous books in this excellent series, but that does not make it a bad book. Not in the slightest. If you like mysteries that provide you with a strong, clear look into another world, mysteries steeped with a sense of place so palpable that you can touch it, I strongly urge you to read Mette Ivie Harrison's series in its entirety. Begin with The Bishop's Wife.

(Review copy courtesy of the publisher and Net Galley) show less