Look, I'm going to be honest right up front. This isn't my usual wheelhouse. My audible library is 90% special ops memoirs and espionage thrillers. But my wife, Linda, controls the Bluetooth on the drive to her sister's place in Dallas, and she insisted we needed something "festive."
So, Plum Pudding Murder. Here we are.
I expected to hate it. I expected to be bored out of my skull. And while I didn't exactly find myself on the edge of the seat checking my six, it wasn't a total wash.
The Voice of Minnesota Nice
Suzanne Toren narrates this thing. I'd actually heard her once before on Zookeeper's Wife: A War Story—completely different material, but that same warmth came through. She's got a voice that sounds like your favorite aunt—warm, inviting, definitely sells the whole "Minnesota nice" vibe. She nails the colloquialisms. You believe these people actually live in a frozen town baking cookies.
But here's the tactical error: the spacing.
There are pauses between characters that feel like an eternity. I'm listening at 1.25x speed (standard operating procedure for me), and even then, the gaps were wide enough to drive a Humvee through. I actually tapped my phone screen twice thinking the Bluetooth disconnected. It breaks the rhythm. In a firefight—or a dialogue exchange—momentum is everything. Toren kills the momentum sometimes.
Intel Buried in Sugar
The plot revolves around this guy "Lunatic Larry." He runs a Christmas tree lot. He winds up dead. Standard target package. The mystery itself is... fine. It's decent. The clues are there if you're paying attention.
But the food. Good Lord, the food.
I've read field manuals with less detail than these cookie descriptions. Same author, same problem—Gingerbread Cookie Murder had me wading through frosting techniques when I just wanted to know who the killer was. Every time the investigation picks up steam, we stop for a five-minute debrief on pudding consistency or the specific type of flour needed for a sugar cookie.
(I admit, I got hungry. Don't tell Linda, or she'll make me bake.)
It's distracting. If you're here for the "Who dunnit," you're going to wade through a lot of culinary logistics to get there. Like trying to find a sniper in a haystack, but the haystack is made of chocolate chips.
Who's This For?
If you want cozy, low-stakes listening with recipes baked into the plot—literally—this is your mission. Skip it if you need actual tension or can't tolerate long pauses between dialogue. Road trips with patient spouses? Perfect deployment scenario.
Mission Complete
Is it going to replace The Day of the Jackal in my top ten? Absolutely not. There are no explosions, the stakes are low, and the "action" is mostly people drinking coffee.
But as a palate cleanser? It works. It's low stress. Toren's voice is soothing, despite the weird pauses.
Ranger, my German Shepherd, was out cold in the back seat within ten minutes. He's usually alert for sirens or squirrels, but this put him in a coma. So if you need something to lower your blood pressure after a long day—or a long deployment—this might do the trick. Just keep snacks handy, cause you're gonna get hungry.
