Perhaps I have become too accustomed to Diana Gabaldon.
Her writing is so richly detailed without being overwhelming, that reading the bare bones There Goes the Bride by MC Beaton was frustrating. Maybe I'm preoccupied. Maybe not. The Agatha Raisin series has never been my favorite as far as MC Beaton is concerned. This story though was like the movie Australia. The would go into a long fade-to-black and I would think, "O good, it's over," and then it would start up again and again and again. That movie should have ended so many times. It was like that with There Goes the Bride. Just stop writing when it's over, let it go. Crikey. It wasn't even a fun read, as her stories typically are. It was just, comfortable, cozy. It didn't require any intellectual stretching and nothing about it was controversial or otherwise offensive. It was, fittingly, a true cozy.