The Christie’s: A Christmas Murder 1984

By Daryl Smith (Indie author, 2026)

Genre: Fiction/Murder Mystery/Christian Fiction

Pages: (print): 148

Via: Author Request

Note: We received a complimentary copy of this book for honest review.

It’s Christmastime in 1984 Dearborn, Michigan. High Schooler James Christie is attending a Christmas Eve party. Ex-San Francisco detective/ace private investigator Johnny Wong is also attending the party at the Christie mansion. It’s a good thing the detective is in attendance. Because when industrial magnate and family patriarch David Christie falls dead at said party shortly after changing his will, the hunt for the killer is on in this faith-flavored seasonal whodunit.

There’s also superstition. Strange things that go bump in the night. The Christie family curse. Missing pictures. The Third Army. Suicide. Microchips and Silicon Valley. A gold pen. An ancient pact.

This book moves well and is an interesting read. It’s packed with plenty of misdirections, red herrings, and clever clues. It’s a good effort. The cover art is terrif! But it’s not yet ready for prime time. Here’s why:

Thin

The plot feels thin in places. Contrived. Like it can’t decide whether it wants to be a clever murder mystery or a sermon. Issues with typos, punctuation, misspelled words and grammatical errors creep in way too often. Examples: “… when dad passes were going to fight…” (p. 25.)  “… your team very through.” (p. 43) “That’s an awful sharp noise you have detective Wong…” (p. 44). “They’re, their and there” are frequently confused and misused, as are “your and you’re.” And so on. There’s also a lot of telling rather than showing. And Johnny Wong’s hackneyed dialogue? Cringeworthy: “Each case different, Johnny said. “Snake bit not always same snake.”

While we can appreciate the faith-flavored aspects of this novel, we don’t appreciate being beaten over the head with it. Especially via Johnny Wong. He comes across as street preacher more than homicide detective. (The “humble Chinamen (sic)” routine gets a little old after a while, too.) Some of Wong’s evangelistic speechifying is painfully out of place. So is some of the dialogue, like David Christie’s dying words, “Father, forgive them.” Seriously, Sherlock? Ditto Jenna’s conversion scene in chapter 5. It feels contrived. Like it’s shoehorned into the plot rather than part of the natural flow. Also, the shift between James Christie’s first-person POV in the opening pages to third person throughout the bulk and then back to James toward the end is jarring and confusing. It doesn’t work.

Final Analysis

The Christie’s* has its moments. But it’s not yet ready for prime time. It would benefit from another coat of polish and a trip through the Editorial and Proofreading Departments. So, we won’t be rating it.

*This is how the main title appears in print. Whether or not this is a typo – and is supposed to be Christies, plural, or Christie’s, possessive, is unclear.