Working Saturday.

Real Murders, by Charlaine Harris. This is definitely in the cozy arm-chair subgenre of mystery. It's interesting to see how much this author's style has changed since this early novel, which was published in 1990. Mysteries still aren't my favorite thing to read, but I was rather comfortable with this one, rather appropriately. I'm still not totally clear on the killers' motivation, but I didn't feel pressured to figure it out or surprised by the ending.

Max, by James Patterson. I need some reviews. I really have no idea what teens see in these. Only 9,413 to go!