I finished reading a murder mystery called 'Holy Island' by LJ Ross last week. Well, I finished reading after 20% because it was awful. The whodunnit aspect may have been engaging had I continued but I couldn't get past the Mills and Boon touches. Our hero was a strong and moody DCI with a firmly chisled cliche, deep blue piercing commonplaces, and a hackneyed backstory which meant he was living alone on Lindisfarne under some sort of suspension. He and the pretty young Professor of Cults (or something like that) - a native of Holy Island of course, who had been sent out against his will to help with the investigation - took an instant dislike to each other, so you could see which way that was heading. And then he had to wait for a 'CSI' team to be sent out to him, presumably no SOCos being available from Newcastle, which is apparently 'a large city' some miles to the south.
A lot of people like this sort of thing judging by the 5* reviews and the massive-selling DCI Ryan series which followed Holy Island. I'm not one of them.