The Club
Reviews • Inspiration • Read the First Chapter
Judy Price's life is to die for. She has a handsome husband with bullish prospects on Wall Street, a career as a cookbook editor, her own BMW, and a landmark house on two sylvan acres in affluent Chesterfield County, Connecticut. But lately, she's been having sexual fantasies about the air conditioner repair man. When Judy is downsized by her company and can't find another job, her husband suggests she hang around The Oaks and "network." The trouble is, she chafes at the rules at the Club, where she's banned from the Men's Grill and the "visually eventful" 18-hole golf course, and consigned to B-list tennis, overcooked dinners in the main dining room, and the gossip of other golf widows. What's more, the Club's idea of multiculturalism is an all-white band playing Motown's greatest hits at the Memorial Day Dance.
Judy finds an unexpected ally in Claire Cox, America's foremost feminist, who has broken the Club's iron-clad rule against admitting single women. There are lots of things about The Oaks Claire wants to change - until she's found dead in a sand trap on the golf course - bludgeoned with the golf pro's pitching wedge. When ruggedly handsome local detective Tom Cunningham asks Judy to secretly investigate, she finds herself changing from a conventional wife into a daring woman - one willing to risk her life to bring a killer to justice and a husband to his senses.
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People Magazine
7/24/95
Beach Book of the Week
Reviewed by Pam Lambert
FIRED COOKBOOK EDITOR JUDY MILLS has a lot to fall back on -- great legs, a handsome husband who makes big bucks as a commodities trader, a restored Connecticut colonial and membership in The Oaks, the prestigious country club where she hopes to network her way into a new job. But when Judy's best prospect, feminist lawyer Claire Cox, is found bludgeoned to death in a sand trap, she finds herself taking on another assignment -- working with sexy Det. Tom Cunningham as the police try to penetrate The Oaks' wall of silence, and the mystery.
As sparks and wisecracks fly between the two, readers will recognize the suburban sleuth turf staked out by Susan Isaacs. But this breezy second novel shows that Heller, a Connecticut resident and former publishing executive, is also intimate with the territory. Knowing and naughty, her mystery is engaging enough to divert-but not enough that you forget to reapply the sunscreen.
Fort Lauderdale Sun-Sentinel
7/30/95
Reviewed by Melissa Ruggieri
It's a sophisticated hub fueled by snob appeal -- the type of place where a phony smile and a handshake is equated with friendship. Women aren't permitted to eat in the men's dining room and members have names such as Duncan Tewksbury and Weezie Evans.
It's exactly the scene that a blunt, Jewish girl from New York would despise - and Judy Price does.
If only she hadn't lost her eight-year position as cookbook editor at Charlton House, Judy never would have stepped on the manicured green lawn at The Oaks club. But now that her shrewish associate publisher has pink-slipped Judy, her husband finds it the opportune time for her to start networking with other wives at the club.
Not only does Judy, acerbic, but incredibly grounded, loathe the catty cliques that permeate the club crowd, but athletics aren't her thing, either. She violates the dress code by showing up for a tennis match in the wrong color outfit and has hysterically bad luck with her tennis game.
Her milquetoast husband, Hunt, however, is a proverbial schmooze golfer - abandoning his wife almost nightly for a round with the boys from his investment firm.
Soon, poor Judy finds herself near breakdown, wishing she could drown herself in a bowl of tiramisu. She is jobless (albeit still financially comfortable), Hunt is more concerned about the 18th hole than being intimate with her, and her bratty stepdaughter, Kimberly, grows more insufferable with each weekend visit.
Enter Claire Cox, a famous feminist socialite who breaks the stuffy rule at The Oaks that prohibits admittance of single females. Claire's commitment to changing the archaic bylaws spurs an uproar among the good-ol'-boys network, but she plows ahead anyway.
When Judy learns of Claire's affinity for cooking, she presents Claire with the idea of writing a celebrity cookbook, which Judy could edit, putting an end to her job woes.
But no sooner does Judy start mapping out the first draft than Claire is found dead in a sandtrap on the club's golf course.
Seem far-fetched? Maybe, but that's the point. Author Jane Heller (who resides in Stuart), purposely exaggerates the stereotypical features of the clubgoers. Her first book was Cha Cha Cha.
Judy's causticness and self-deprecation is the only reality in the club's world of shallow clods, and Heller delightfully skewers their narrowminded observations. As a light read, The Club, Heller's second novel, doesn't have to work too hard to hold your interest. But don't read it too quickly, or you might miss some of her sly social commentary.
Miami Herald
7/30/95
Reviewed by Margaria Fichtner
Judy Mills, the narrator of Jane Heller's sly, funny little tale of life, sex and murder among country-club snobs, is not having a good day.
At 39 and what ought to be the pinnacle of her career as a scrappy cookbook editor (who else would have thought up a garlic-is-good-for-you number titled So Your Breath Smells - You'll Live Longer!), Judy has been summoned into the office of her nightmare of a boss and fired. The publishing house is being restructured; food is not part of its new "mix." Eyes flooding, Judy storms back to her office to pace "back and forth. Since my office was the size of a hamster's cage, my pacing took the form of laps and, before long, I was dizzy."
Pretty soon, you will be dizzy, too. Heller, a part-time South Floridian, whips a frothy summer read around Judy; her dull indifferent commodities-broker husband, Hunt Price; and her step-daughter from hell, Kimberley.
When Judy's job search yields zilch (even she admits it was stupid to show up for an interview at Save the Manatee Press in a sheared beaver coat), Hunt urges his wife to become active in The Oaks, the prestigious but shabby country club where he spends virtually all his free time perfecting his golf swing and trawling for new clients. "You're the one without a job, babe," he says. "Maybe you should get over there and find one."
Fighting an urge to drown herself in a bowl of tiramisu ("I wondered if Jack Kevorkian had thought of it"), Judy finally perks up enough to give The Oaks a try, but she remains unimpressed until a new member shows up: Claire Cox, a Gloria Steinem-like superfeminist lawyer who sets out to sweep the club of its various cobwebby biases and likes Judy's suggestion that they collaborate on a new cookbook, Smart Women, Scrumptious Courses.
But then Claire is found bludgeoned to death in a sand trap, and a sad-eyed detective enlists Judy's help in solving her murder. Jealousy, rubbery food, financial chicanery, al fresco extramarital gymnastics and the murky secrets of privileged WASPs all keep things zooming, and Heller's sometimes whiplash dialogue and gentle touch with loopy lives prove deft and diverting.
Publisher's Weekly
Heller entered Susan Isaacs's suburbia in her lively first novel, Cha Cha Cha. She's there again, taking well-aimed shots at affluent yuppiedom in this witty, well-plotted second effort. Judy Mills, Jewish princess and New York cookbook editor, is fired after her publishing house is acquired by another; at the same time, her aptly named WASP commodities-trader husband, Hunt Price, has become obsessed with golf and networking at The Oaks, an old-line Connecticut country club. While attempting to perk up her marriage and deal with her manipulative stepdaughter, Judy herself tries networking at The Oaks. There, she meets dynamic feminist Claire Cox, the club's first single woman member. When Claire is found dead in a sand trap, Judy is hired by the local police to help probe the club's membership. Game, acutely self-aware and likable, Judy offers sharp insights into country-club vanities, her relationship with a hunky detective and her battles with the severely jealous Hunt (who eventually joins in as her sidekick). Heller delivers perfect reading for the beach-or pool-side at the club.
Kensington published the hardcover edition of my second novel, The Club, in the summer of 1995, with the paperback following a year later. The idea for the book was sparked by a front-page article in The New York Times having to do with country clubs. More specifically, the article stated that country clubs were the last bastion of male dominance and that women were, in fact, discriminated against. Women weren't permitted full membership, for example, nor could they play golf on Saturday or Sunday mornings - prime time for men. And - horror of all horrors - women couldn't eat in the so-called Men's Grill, let alone set foot in the place.
I thought, what would happen if a feminist became a member of such a club and tried to make the rules more equitable?
She'd get murdered, I decided. Right smack on the golf course!
So The Club became my second comic mystery-romance. The hero and heroine are a married couple who belong to The Oaks, a stuffy country club in a fictional Connecticut town. When a feminist does get into the club and forces people to examine their values, she's soon found dead in the sand trap - bludgeoned with the golf pro's pitching wedge. Was it one of the members who murdered her? Our hero and heroine help the police find the answer, and in doing so rejuvenate their stale marriage.
The Club was chosen by People magazine as a "Beach Book of the Week," which isn't exactly like winning the Pulitzer Prize but is a nice pat on the back just the same.
My husband took this photo of me for the book jacket of The Club. The sun was just setting as he posed me amid the swaying palms at the riverfront Florida house we were renting. We had just moved south from Connecticut, but by the time The Club was published we were fully acclimated to our new home state.
