Reviewed by J.M. Anton
Copyright © 2012 by Renee James, and published by Windy City Publishers. Coming Out Can Be Murder is a gripping murder mystery.
Bobbi Logan is one of the best hairdressers in the city, but clients flee like rats from a sinking ship when he decides to confront the life long battle of being trapped in a male body and shows up at work as a woman.
Renee relates the transgender person’s heartache, the abuse from bigots and bullies, also lack of empathy from straight people including law enforcement. The story tracks the life of our transgender hero/heroine through a traumatic year in Bobbi’s life.
What makes a person change their gender? I have always wondered what leads someone to that decision knowing they are going to be social outcasts, and prey for hate mongers. Renee provided me with a deeper understanding of what motivates some of those who transition. I found myself rooting for Bobbi in her own struggle and her determination to find the murderer of a friend.
You will find this a haunting, heartbreaking, and eye opening page-turner. I highly recommend this well written murder mystery.
Caution! This book is an adult read (Age 18 +)
Here is an excerpt from Coming Out Can Be Murder:
We haven’t been above freezing in a week. We’ve had highs in the single digits, with wind chills below zero at night. Usually when it’s this cold, it’s also clear. But we’ve had overcast skies and a six-inch mini-blizzard, and several light snowfalls. The snow doesn’t melt because it’s so cold. The stuff on the street turns to a frozen slush during the day because of the road salt, but it doesn’t actually melt. The slush clogs curbs and gutters and loose snow blows into your face wherever you walk. If you don’t wear tall boots, when you step off the curb the slush seeps into your shoes and you are in for a bad day.
If you do wear boots, the salt-laden slush turns them to junk in a few days. You can try buying crappy boots for the sacrifice, but they just fail faster than expensive ones. You really can’t beat Mother Nature, not in the Chicago winter.
On the street, we look like a city of mummies. People wrap scarves around their necks and the lower parts of their faces. When the wind is whistling up the streets, people wrap the scarves up over their noses and pull hats to just above their eyes.
The one positive part of this is that, on the street, no one can tell I’m trans. And it’s too cold to give a damn anyway.
Most of my friends and customers are at their annual breaking point with Chicago’s winter weather. They talk of Florida, California, tropical islands.