Liar, Liar, by K. J. Larsen ($14.95)

Move over, Stephanie Plum, Cat DeLuca is on the prowl!

Liar, Liar is the debut novel by three sisters, two of whom live in the Pacific Northwest. This book harkens back to the first few bad hair days of Janet Evanovich's iconic heroine, the aforementioned Stephanie Plum. Liar, Liar has zest and sass very similar to Evanovich's z&s, and Cat has her own eccentric smloving (a cross between smothering and loving) family. There's also flirting, backtalk, an over-the-top sidekick, and even a car disaster. The differences? With Liar, Liar, there's a little more plot focus, and Cat manages to anger way more people. I personally have no problem with imitation, especially if it's well done. This book made me laugh out loud, the way Evanovich's One for Money did many years ago.

Cat DeLuca runs Pants on Fire Detective Agency. She surreptitiously chases after allegedly cheating spouses and gives the wronged parties ammunition to kick the bums (or bumettes) out of their lives.

In the course of following a far-too-good-looking-for-his-own-good-and-he-drives-a-Porshe guy for a sobbing client, Cat becomes embroiled in something bigger and more explosive than anything she has ever run across before. Literally. A bomb explodes in a building as Cat nears her prey, and she is clunked unconscious by a falling sign. When she awakens in the hospital, she is told that the man she was tailing died in the explosion. After the "dead man" visits her in her hospital room, she tries to tell the police and anyone else who will listen that the dead man must be someone else, but no one pays any attention. And the woman who hired her may not be the not-dead-man's wife. Then she has another near-death experience. Is her concussion making her delusional, or is someone trying to kill her? So she tries to figure out what the FBI, diamonds, a cranky mechanic, a shady philantropist, and Max the bodyguard (who doesn't resemble Kevin Costner and isn't Italian) have in common? And, yes, someone is trying to kill her.

Toss in a mother who shouts, "Let's eat," as a coda to difficult situations, a family that tramples its way to the buffet table, a wild bunch of friends and relatives who are either Chicago cops or working for "the other side," and you have ...

Fun, fun, fun!