Phryne Fisher is an independently wealthy, liberated flapper-type who solves mysteries in Australia in the 1920s. I should have loved this book, but it was just badly written and un-engaging.

Phryne was a little too much of a Mary Sue (perhaps in the vein of Sherlock Holmes?), and somehow a plot involving cocaine, back-alley abortions, murder, and a hunky Russian ballet dancer can be dull.

If you want brain candy, though, I highly recommend the TV show Miss Fisher's Mysteries.