Family is an important facet of Tastes Like Murder, book one of your Cookies
& Chance Mysteries, especially family of the crazy, meddling, humorous
kind. What is it about families, and Sally’s in
particular, that excites you as a writer?
Tastes Like Murder
Cookies & Chance Mysteries - Book 1
Sally Muccio’s had her crosses to bear: a cheating ex-boyfriend, crazy Italian parents, and an unfaithful husband, just to name a few. After her divorce, she returns to her hometown to start a novelty cookie shop whose specialties include original fortune cookies, served with a sprinkle of foreshadowing. But there’s no warning when her ex-husband’s mistress drops dead on Sal's porch, and police confirm it’s a homicide. Determined to stop her life from becoming a recipe for disaster, Sal takes matters into her own hands. With two very different men vying for her affection, dead bodies piling up, and a reputation hanging by an apron string, Sal finds herself in a race against time to save both her business and life—before the last cookie crumbles.
I
enjoy spending time in Sally’s world because her family is a bit unusual to say
the least, lol. They march to the beat of their own drummer and provide a lot
of comical moments. Despite the fact that they’re all a little unusual, they
are close knit and there’s nothing they wouldn’t do for each other.
Cookies are also front and center in this book and, I admit, had me drooling
more than once. Are you a baker? What’s your favorite cookie to make or eat?
I love to bake. It’s a way for me to relax and destress. For
me, picking a favorite cookie is like picking a favorite child. One of my
favorites are Josie’s Jelly Cookies, which I’ve included the recipe for. I’m
addicted to shortbread cookies, and these have such a light buttery taste that
I can never seem to get enough.
Thank you for sharing your recipe. These look delicious!
Josie’s Jelly Cookies
1 ½ cups (3 sticks) of butter, softened
1 cup of sugar
3 egg yolks
1 teaspoon vanilla
4 cups of flour
Jam – Strawberry, Raspberry, Grape, your choice. (Can be seeded or unseeded.)
Preheat oven to 350° Fahrenheit. Cream butter, sugar, yolks, and vanilla together. Sift flour and stir ingredients into wet mixture. Shape cookies in hand to make a ball about the size of a tablespoon and press thumb firmly into the center. Fill imprint with favorite jam. Bake on parchment-lined cookie sheet for about 10 minutes or until edges start to brown. Let cool—the jelly especially will be very hot! Makes about two dozen cookies.
While I was reading Tastes Like Murder, I could see the story unfolding like
a movie in my mind. If this series was taken to the screen, who would you
envision playing the key characters?
If this series were
ever to make it to the screen (Hello, Hallmark, I’m available!) I could see
Emma Watson in the role of Sally, and perhaps Rachel McAdams as Josie. I know
Rachel’s a little older than Josie’s character, but I have every confidence that
she could pull it off.
I love that casting!
Let’s learn a bit more about you.
What are your passions (aside from writing, of course)?
I love to read and attend live theater performances.
What would readers be surprised to learn about you?
In
addition to writing three books a year, I also have a day job. I work as a
Contract Management Specialist for the State of New York. Retirement is only a
couple of years away (hopefully!), and after that, I’ll be able to pursue my
writing full time.
What are you currently reading or looking forward to reading?
I’m currently enjoying Pretty Baby by Mary Kubica.
Where can readers find you online?
Catherine's Cozy Readers
(private Facebook group): https://www.facebook.com/groups/241834706420330
Facebook author page: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100055727634124
Website: www.catherinebruns.net
Newsletter signup: https://www.catherinebruns.net/contact
*When readers sign up for my
newsletter, they get a free Cookies & Chance novella sent to them! *
Thank you for visiting with us today, Catherine.
It was a pleasure to be here!
Readers, have you read Catherine's books yet?
Do you like it when authors include recipes in their books? Do you ever make them?
What's your favorite cookie to make...or eat? Feel free to share your recipe.
One randomly chosen person who posts a comment before 11:00 PM, August 14 will receive a signed copy of It Cannoli be Murder, book two in Catherine's Italian Chef Mysteries series.
*U.S. only
*Must be 18
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Excerpt
Tastes Like Murder
Mrs. Gavelli’s lips moved silently until she stared at
me in disbelief. “Why you give me lousy fortune again?”
Good grief. “Mrs. Gavelli, I don’t put those in there
on purpose. We buy the fortunes from a novelty store, and Josie stuffs them
into the cookies. I have no idea what they’re going to say.”
“Yah, sure,” she spat out, and then read aloud. “‘Be
nice or leave.’”
Poetic
justice. I turned around to ring up her sale, hoping she
wouldn’t see my smile.
Mrs. Gavelli glanced over Amanda’s shoulder. “What you
get?”
Drawing her eyebrows together, Amanda stared intently
at the strip. “I don’t understand this.”
“They don’t mean anything.” Why did people keep
putting so much emphasis on these little pieces of paper?
Amanda frowned as she read aloud. “‘No fortune for
you. Wrong cookie. Your luck is not there.’”
“Aha!” Mrs. Gavelli pointed a finger at me. “You see?
She get bad fortune too. Is setup.”
I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall,
defeated.
“Well—” Amanda sniffed. “I know you’re jealous of me,
but it does seem like kind of a childish thing to do.”
Count
to ten, Sal. Nope, didn’t work. “Buy something now or
leave.”
Mrs. Gavelli shook her fist at me. “You rude. Is no
way to treat customer.” She flounced out the door, bag in hand.
Amanda didn’t even look up at her departure. “Ooh, I
think I want one of those vanilla yummy things with the chocolate drops on top.
What the heck. Give me six of them.”
“Fudge,” I corrected her. “They’re called Fudgy
Delights. And that will be six dollars.” I scooped the cookies into a bag.
Amanda’s jaw dropped. “Don’t I get a discount?”
She had to be kidding. “Why on earth would I give you
a discount?”
“I was in here yesterday as well,” Amanda said.
“Shouldn’t volume count for something?”
“Six dollars, please.” I clenched my jaw, praying she
would leave soon. I didn’t want another confrontation.
Amanda shook her head in disgust while she pawed
through her mammoth-sized Gucci purse. She handed me six singles and snatched
her bag, reaching inside to remove a cookie. “You really should lose the
attitude. It makes you ugly. Oops, I mean uglier.”
I gritted my teeth and turned away from her to ring up
the sale, praying for more self- control. If I could wait on Amanda and manage
not to lose my temper, I knew I’d be successful with any other customer who
walked through the door. “Good night. It’s closing time.”
She took a bite and moaned, closing her eyes. “But I’m
not done enjoying my cookie yet.”
“Enjoy it outside on the porch. Now, please.”
My cell phone started to ring from the back room.
“Good night, Amanda.”
She shot me a dirty look and turned on her heel,
pushing the front door open with force, bells jingling away merrily at her
departure. I quickly locked the door before she decided to return.
Good
riddance. I ran into the back to grab my phone and glanced at
the number on the screen before answering. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, sweetheart,” she purred into the phone. “You’re
still coming for dinner, right?”
“Yes, I’ll be there.”
“It’s already getting dark.”
I surveyed the kitchen area one last time and shut the
lights off. “Mom, I think I can drive in the dark.”
“Did you want to bring a guest?” Her voice was thick
with hope.
“You mean a date? Who on earth would I bring?”
“Jake was here yesterday. He’s such a nice—”
I pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and
forefinger. “I’m not ready for this. Please ease up, Mom.”
She sighed loudly. “You’re nearing thirty. You should
get married again and have a couple of babies. Your biological clock is
ticking.”
“Okay, I’m hanging up now. Do you need anything?”
“The newspaper didn’t get delivered today. Can you
bring yours? Oh, and why don’t you bring your father some of those genettis Josie makes? They might cheer
him up.”
“Sure. I’ll see you soon.” I hung up and walked out to
the bakery case. As I placed a dozen of the Italian, glazed cookies sprinkled
with nonpareils into one of my pink bakery boxes, I knew they wouldn’t do the
trick. My father had recently turned sixty-five and was convinced he’d die
soon. It didn’t matter that he was in excellent health. Domenic Muccio said his
time was coming soon.
His latest hobby consisted of scanning the obituaries
and attending random wakes so that he’d know exactly what he wanted when the
fateful day arrived. My mother was happy to leave him to his own devices. His
total opposite, she acted like a teenager most days. I loved them dearly, but
they were both certifiably nuts.
I walked to the front door and changed the sign over
to Closed. Amanda sat in one of the
wicker chairs, nibbling away. She must have sensed my presence because she
suddenly turned and waved at me gaily. I ignored her as I shut the light off
and lowered the blind on the door.
Once upstairs, I stepped into the shower for a quick
rinse and changed into a pink T-shirt and white shorts. I grabbed a pair of
sandals from my closet and blew dry my hair. After adding mascara, I was good
to go.
Darkness had fallen in the twenty minutes since I’d
closed the shop. Thunderstorms were expected later, the reason for the pitch-black
sky. Perhaps then the heat wave would be over for the year. Fall was right
around the corner, and soon enough winter would beckon with snow and cold,
northeastern temperatures.
I sighed. Come January, I’d really be missing the
Sunshine State.
My car was parked out in the alley. I started toward
the back door of the shop then remembered the newspaper. It would be a shame if
my father couldn’t read the obituaries during dinner. Shaking my head, I unlocked
the front door and pushed to open it. Something held the door firmly in place
from the other side. Convinced the heat was making it stick, I pushed harder.
The door moved forward but only slightly.
What
the heck? I reached along the inside wall to turn on the porch
light. I sucked in a sharp breath, and my blood ran cold.
Draped across my woven welcome mat lay Amanda’s
lifeless body.
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