As a writer of mystery novels, I know that a story needs a lot more than a good plot, and this delightful tale of an eccentric Bavarian woman who moves to Sicily to drink herself to death and instead finds herself investigating the murder of her handsome young handyman fulfills that requirement in spades with colorful characters; vivid descriptions of her adopted country’s culture, history, and cuisine; and a powerful sense of place.

The solution to the mystery is somewhat obvious, but what really mattered to me was the fact that after reading the book, I felt that I had actually been on a trip to Sicily.

I could almost immediately smell the gorgeous scent of citrus wafting from the pages of this beautiful book through the magic of Helena Atlee’s precisely detailed writing.

Who would have thought that the story of Italy’s varied and numerous citrus plantations would take me on a journey all across the country, from Sicily’s west coast to the fragrant lemon gardens of Lake Garda, and in time from when the Arabs introduced bitter oranges up to the workings of the citrus industry today.

I love this book because it simply tells the fragrant story of how fruit, in various manifestations, has come to be cultivated all around the country and to represent something of the soul and the spirit of the Italian people.