The best humorous cozy mysteries that take place in the south penned by female authors

In a town the size of Maggody, Arkansas, population 755, nothing much ever happens, so Arly Hanks figures she’s safe as the town’s first female chief of police.

But Arly no sooner pins her badge on, and she’s contending with two manhunts and an EPA problem no one is willing to talk about. 

Give me an irreverent protagonist, dialog dripping sarcasm, and a zany plot that spits in the eye of the absurdness of our society. Malice in Maggody, the first book in The Arly Hanks Mysteries-has them all.

Life-long Arkansan author Joan Hess gleefully makes mincemeat of the hypocrisy of social mores and the foibles of the caste hierarchy often found in small southern towns by reducing them to a parody of themselves. 

Maybe it’s because I am naturally curious and ask a lot of questions, I’m a sucker for a protagonist who sticks her nose everywhere it doesn’t belong.

South Florida hairstylist Marla Shore is already having a bad hair day when one of her clients dies in the shampoo chair at her salon. Then Detective Dalton Vail accuses Marla of putting poison in the woman’s coffee creamer. Grumpy Bertha Kravitz might not have been Marla’s favorite customer, but the hairstylist wouldn’t have murdered the lady.

I love that no matter how much danger she gets herself into, Marla stands up for herself and leaves no stone unturned when she decides it’s up to her to unmask the real killer.

Newly widowed Miss Julia, a pillar of her small southern community, is the poster child for my wise Nana’s theory that things never turn out the way you think they will when she finds herself smack dab in the center of a smarmy love triangle scandal involving her late husband.

I adore Miss Julia’s razer-sharp wit as she morphs from a clueless stuffed shirt into an endearingly strong southern woman who doesn’t take crap from anyone.

I am a big fan of a fast-paced tale that deftly weaves comic characters through a plot wrought with hand-wringing angst. Miss Julia and her cast of crazy characters does not disappoint.   

Nothing tickles my funny bone more than my husband describing the antics of his boyhood family dog, a singing ninety-pound boxer aptly named Troubadour.

So, naturally, I fell in love with mortician Callie Valentine Jones’ basset hound who’s convinced he is the reincarnation of the King of Rock n’ Roll. Business takes a nasty nosedive when the corpse of a local doctor goes missing from the Eternal Rest Funeral Home.

I almost died laughing when kookie Callie and her wake caterer cousin Lovie race in hot pursuit of the recently embalmed, last seen bound for Las Vegas by way of downtown Tupelo, Mississippi.

The fast-paced plot is nothing short of sheer Southern fried lunacy as Callie, Lovie, and Elvis track the dearly departed doctor inside a freezer owned by his showgirl mistress. 

Maybe it’s because I had to do it throughout my career as a sales exec in a historically male-dominated industry before I became an author, that I am a hopeless sap for a heroine who picks herself up no matter how many times she gets knocked down.

So, it is no surprise that Savannah, Georgia-based recent divorcee Reagan Summerside has a special place in my heart. Reagan, left with almost nothing, thanks to the ruthless tactics of her husband’s divorce lawyer, discovers the bimbo her ex dumped her for dead in her former Lexus.

I cheered the consignment shop owner on as she relentlessly searched for the murderer.