When you meet someone new, do you ever doubt what they tell you about themselves? I mean, sure if they say they’re an astronaut and they get out of breath picking up a donut, but how about ordinary things, like their mother is a teacher? You get to know the person and they mention later that their mother is a lawyer and you might think she changed jobs, or you misunderstood, not that your friend is lying.

I rely on that lack of suspicion every day.

People here in San Francisco know me as Theo Bogart, but it’s not my real name so I spend most of every day lying to everyone I know. It’s exhausting.

I’m not in witness protection or anything. I just meant to hide out for a few weeks or a couple of months and then go back to London when the hue and cry over my high-profile family tragedy died down. But grief is exhausting, too. I sleepwalked through my life for too long and when I woke up, emotionally speaking, I had friends, a job, a demanding little dog and even a lover, when he’s in town, which isn’t often enough. I’m still trying to figure out a way to tell him—and everyone— I’m not who he thinks I am.

I used to be a kind of hit-and-run photographer, more airhead than pillar of society, but my life has changed a lot from when I spent most of my time chasing after reluctant celebrities or hanging out in clubs. Now my evenings are spent watching old movies to improve my American accent. On a normal day I might help my teenage helper, Davie, with his homework; serve a dozen or so customers with shampoo or body lotion, and walk my dog, Lucy, in the pocket park behind the building. And I’ve learned one thing–when you’re trying really hard to stay under the radar, finding a dead body isn’t the best way to achieve it, especially when you know the dead body, and you’ve had a fairly public disagreement with her only the day before. A dead lawyer in a Tesla sounds like the beginning of a joke but trust me, it wasn’t funny.

There was no time to adjust before an old friend of my grandfather’s showed up at the store looking for him. I’m so used to protecting myself I pretended I didn’t know who he was talking about, but I told Grandfather and his response was—strange. He isn’t the warm and fuzzy, let’s-have-lunch-and-catch-up type of person, so when he told me to meet him, it had more or less the same impact as a court order. As the son of an Earl, he has that natural authority thing going on while I’m just the family black sheep, so I hopped on a cable car and headed downtown.

I was expecting to hear a reprimand of some kind. He usually tries to moderate his natural inclination to scowl at me, in fact he moved here to support me when I couldn’t stand my grim notoriety for one more day, which was pretty wonderful. I love him a lot, but I think he finds me rather a trial so I was prepared for his disapproval; I wasn’t prepared for the secrets he revealed over a salmon salad at one of San Francisco’s swankiest hotels.

I’m not the only liar in the family. Almost everything I thought I knew about him was wrong, which didn’t make clearing his name easy when his old friend turned up dead.

The Man in the Microwave Oven is the second book in the “Theo Bogart” cozy mystery series, released November 3, 2020.

Fleeing from a murder and family tragedy in her native England, where she was the scandal du jour for the tabloid press, Theo Bogart changed her name and built an undercover life in a close-knit San Francisco neighborhood. She didn’t expect to find love and friendship there, and now she doesn’t know how―or if―to reveal the truth.

After a confrontation with a difficult neighbor, Theo fears her secrets are about to be uncovered after all. When the woman who threatened to expose her is murdered, Theo is embroiled in the kind of jeopardy she crossed an ocean to escape. Worse yet, dangerous family secrets have followed her. Theo’s grandfather unveils a glimpse of the shadowy world he once inhabited as an agent for the British Secret Service, bringing an even bigger breed of trouble―and another death―to Theo’s doorstep. She finds herself fighting to protect herself, her family, and her new friends, aware that one of them might be a murderer.

Susan Cox has once again painted a delightfully quirky portrait of a colorful San Francisco neighborhood and a woman finding her way through exactly the kind of scandalous mystery she was trying to leave behind.

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About the author
Susan Cox’s first mystery novel, “The Man on the Washing Machine,” was the winner of the Mystery Writers of America/Minotaur Press First Crime Novel Award. The second in the series, “The Man in the Microwave Oven,” was published by Minotaur Press in November.

Sue lived for many years in San Francisco where the action of her traditional mysteries, featuring amateur sleuth Theo Bogart, takes place. She is a former journalist and non-profit fundraiser, with a love of gardens, horses, dogs and rainy weather. She now lives with her family and dogs in South Florida, where she gardens in the rain and dreams of owning a horse.

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The publisher has generously offered to give away two print copies of The Man in the Microwave Oven. To enter, please leave a comment below. One entry per person and the giveaway is limited to U.S. residents only. Giveaway ends November 7, 2020. Good luck everyone!

All comments are welcomed.