Saturday, May 7, 2022

🌷🌹Saturday's Series Spotlight(Mother's Day Edition)🌹🌷: Cambridge Fellows Mysteries by Charlie Cochrane



Lessons for Idle Tongues #11
Summary:
Cambridge, England, 1910. 

Amateur detectives Jonty Stewart and Orlando Coppersmith seem to have nothing more taxing on their plate than locating a missing wooden cat and solving the dilemma of seating thirteen for dinner. But one of the guests brings a conundrum: a young woman has been found dead, and her boyfriend is convinced she was murdered. The trouble is, nobody else agrees.

Investigation reveals that several young people in the local area have died in strange circumstances, and rumours abound of poisonings at the hands of Lord Toothill, a local mysterious recluse. Toothill's angry, gun-toting gamekeeper isn't doing anything to quell suspicions, either.

But even with a gun to his head, Jonty can tell there's more going on in this surprisingly treacherous village than meets the eye. And even Orlando's vaunted logic is stymied by the baffling inconsistencies they uncover. Together, the Cambridge Fellows must pick their way through gossip and misdirection to discover the truth.




Lessons in Cracking a Deadly Code #12.7
Summary:
St Bride's College is buzzing with excitement at the prospect of reviving the traditional celebration of the saint's day. When events get marred by murder it's natural that Jonty Stewart and Orlando Coppersmith will get called in to help the police with their inside knowledge. But why has somebody been crawling about on the chapel roof and who's obsessed with searching in the library out of hours?





Lessons in Solving the Wrong Problem #13
Summary:
Jonty Stewart and Orlando Coppersmith get asked by Lord Henry Byrd to locate a treasure trove that mysteriously disappeared many years ago. But is that the case Lord Henry actually wants them to solve?






Lessons in Idle Tongues #11
Original Review July  2015:
When I found out that there was going to be, not one but two, new entries in the Cambridge Fellows Mysteries this year I was so excited.  Within 36 hours of the arrival of Lessons for Idle Tongues on my Kindle, I reached the final page and can I just say that Charlie Cochrane did not disappoint.  Jonty and Orlando are faced with another intriguing mystery that may or may not be an actual mystery but that doesn't stop their investigation.  Now I'm even more hungry for Lessons for Sleeping Dogs and October is seeming way too far off.

As for the overall series, Cambridge Fellows is a great historical mystery with humor, romance, and characters that mesh together perfectly, even when they seem more enemy than friend.  I came across this series last summer when I was searching for historical fiction and even though there were 10 books to the series, I decided to give it a try.  Well, less than 30 days later I had finished all 10.  I will say that the publishers label them as standalones and I guess as far as the mysteries go, yes they do qualify as standalones but because of the growing relationships amongst the different characters, and not just Jonty and Orlando, I highly recommend reading them in order of the chronological timeline, which I included below after the excerpts before the author bio.

Lessons in Cracking a Deadly Code #12.7
Original Review January 2019:
As the revival of the St. Bride's Day traditional celebrations nears, signs of break-ins and crawling about the chapel roof have given Jonty Stewart and Orlando Coppersmith a new case.  Is a dastardly crime afoot or is it just dunderhead pranks?

OHMYGOD!OHMYGOD!OHMYGOD!OHMYGOD!OHMYGOD! A new Cambridge Fellows Mysteries is here and I finally got a chance to read it(holiday reading stopped me from getting to it sooner so I just told myself it wasn't out yetπŸ˜‰πŸ˜‰)  What better way to start off the new year than with Jonty and Orlando on the case?  I have been a huge fan of these boys since I first discovered Lessons in Love back in the summer of 2014 and I've said it before but I'll say it again: whether Charlie Cochrane has only a one paragraph holiday coda or 100 full length novels left in her for this pair, I'll be first in line to gobble them up.  I don't know just what it is about this series that hooks me in but whatever it is, I'm all for it.

As for Lessons in Cracking the Deadly Code, well the mystery is fun and yes I know there is a bit of death and destruction involved but "fun" is the best way to describe it.  An added plus with Deadly Code, as it is set back in 1911, the elder Stewarts are back and ready to help when needed.  We see more of Mr. Stewart aiding the boys but we get still have the ever feisty Mrs. Stewart showing her favoritism to Orlando tooπŸ˜‰πŸ˜‰.  I think that's about all I'm going to say to the mystery part of the tale as it is a novella, the tiny details are even more telling than with a full length mystery but I will reiterate that it is just plain fun and had me guessing right up to the reveal.  As for Jonty and Orlando, well they are equally as fun, flirty, and more in love than ever.

Yep, Lessons in Cracking the Deadly Code is a win win from the getgo! It has a little bit of everything, okay so there is no sci-fi or fantasy, but otherwise pretty much everything is here.  Mystery, romance, friendship, flirting, death, humor -- oh yeah, Miss Cochrane has done her readers proud with this addition to the Cambridge Fellows.  Speaking of the author, one of my favorite things about a Charlie Cochrane story is her attention to detail, to the little points that may or may not actually effect the mystery, and in the case of Cambridge her respect for the past just oozes off the page and yet the entertainment factor is never in jeopardy of being overshadowed by "getting it right".  Definitely a win win from cover to cover.

One last thing, for those who have never read Cambridge Fellows Mysteries before and are wondering if it is a series that has to be read in order? Well not really.  If you go to the author's website and look at the list, you'll notice that the series order isn't necessarily the chronological order.  Personally, I would highly recommend reading the first three or four in order because it helps to cement friendships with secondary characters but each entry is its own mystery so technically each one is a standalone.  However you choose to read it, if you are a mystery fan than don't let this series pass you by.

Lessons in Solving the Wrong Problem #13
Original Review March Book of the Month 2021:
First off, Cambridge Fellows Mysteries just keeps getting better and better.  Normally after 20 or so stories, between full-length novels, novellas, shorts, & free codas on the author's website, ideas would be getting weaker, perhaps even cliche or "copied" but not Jonty and Orlando.  These two fellas from St. Bride's is like a fine wine(better actually because I'm not a wine drinker) they strengthen and become enriched with age.  

Truth be told, the author's talent sharpen with each new entry as well.  Charlie Cochrane's knack for storytelling, for making the reader feel like a participant in the investigations, for having a healthy balance of staying true to the era and not making it a history lesson standout in these later released novellas.  I say that not because the original novels aren't as good or lack the above mentioned elements but because the novellas, well I don't want to say they "jump around" in the timeline but they are set throughout and in doing so the author has to re-visit the characters' strengths and weaknesses that they may have overcome in later timeline(such as how they were post-war compared to new lovers).  Sometimes when an author "goes backward in time" they forget and write them as they were later and when that happens certain things are lost and seem out of place.  Not Charlie Cochrane and her Cambridge investigative duo, she recreates, revisits, and furthers their journey all the while giving them new and intriguing cases to solve.

Now as for particulars in Lessons in Solving the Wrong Problem, I think you know my answer: read it for yourself to find out because with a mystery too many seemingly insignificant elements can actually change the whole course of the investigation.  And I won't spoil that journey.  I will say, as per their norm, sometimes the non-answers to one query can lead to solutions in another.  What's not to like?  You got lost treasure(or possibly lost), possible ghost sightings, possible murder, possible accidents, just so many possibles that it's no wonder the title is Solving the Wrong Problem.  As usual Jonty and Orlando are up to the task.  Sometimes I think the men are living their very own "Choose Your Own Adventure" adventure in this novella.

I should mention that even though we don't see as many of the mens' typical sidekicks in this one, they aren't completely on their own either.  It's still glorious to see Mr. & Mrs. Stewart lending their knowledge into the clue seeking business again.  I think it's one of the things I've always found so brilliant with Cambridge Fellows, not only is the main couple a Holmes & Watson(shhh! don't tell them I said that, especially OrlandoπŸ˜‰) but Jonty's parents love it almost as much.  So often parents, especially mothers and especially mothers of that era would be trying to tamp down the not-always-but-sometime dangerous side of the couple's "hobby" but not Mrs. Stewart, she loves the snooping just as much as her son and "son-in-law".

Okay, that's it, if I talk(or type) too much longer I'll start giving away secrets and that's not allowed here.  I've said it before and I'll say it again, no matter how many full-length novels or one page codas, Miss Cochrane chooses to write, or more accurately that the boys decide to fill her in on, I'll be here reading them.  This series, this couple will never get old.

One more thing: if you are new to the series than be sure to check out the author's website to get a chronological order of Cambridge Fellows but once you've read the first 4 or 5, I think you can really read them in any order.  The first ones show the couple's romance explored more and so in order is more important IMO but the mysteries are always new to that entry. Sometimes there are details mentioned of previous cases but nothing that gives any case away or that leaves you wondering  "WTH is going on?"  However you choose to read it, don't let the number of entries scare you off because every single one is worth reading and experiencing.

RATING:




Lessons in Idle Tongues #11
Once dressed for dinner, he wandered along to annoy Jonty. Given their exertions of the afternoon, the chances were he’d be snatching forty winks, and would be nicely flustered at having to rush to get ready. Unfortunately for the purposes of either annoyance or mockery, Jonty seemed well ahead of schedule on the dressing front.

“Now, about tomorrow,” he said as Orlando walked into his bedroom. “Just behave yourself when we get to the ground.”

“Of course I will.”

“Good.” Jonty grinned. “I don’t want any naughty things going on behind the pavilion. Even if it’s one of those that backs onto woodland and allows any amount of sin to take place there.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Really? Didn’t many a lad from deepest, darkest Kent lose his virginity behind the school cricket pavilion? Or some other equally convenient location? Ah, got it this time.” Jonty smiled at the elegant knot he’d produced in his tie. “Perfect.”

“Is that true or are you making it up? And why can’t you have the same sort of black tie as everyone else?” Maybe when Jonty took it off tonight, Orlando could accidentally cut the offensive object into fifty-seven pieces.

Lessons for Sleeping Dogs #12
Jonty, recognising the signs, concentrated on his food. Orlando’s tetchiness could only mean one thing. “You need a case. To improve your mood.”

Orlando opened his mouth as if he was going to argue, then shut it again and laid down his fork. “You’re right. I have no idea how I filled my days before this all happened.” He swept his hand in a gesture that seemed to take in Jonty, their cottage, and the elegant piece of silverware on the mantelpiece. The long-necked jug, a gift from a grateful client, was symbolic of investigations.

Jonty held his tongue. He had no idea how Orlando could have survived back then, cocooned in his own little world.

“Maybe,” he said at last, “our guardian angels—the ones you refuse to believe in despite all the evidence that they’re working like billy-o—are even now trying to push a case in our direction. The devil makes work for idle hands, and they wouldn’t want us put into temptation, would they?”

Orlando broke into a grin. “You do talk rot.”

Jonty lifted his napkin to his mouth. “So, can you take the field for me? You’ve an excellent eye for a ball, and that fifty you put together back in May for the St. Bride’s Fellows XI was a poem. A sonnet in itself, iambic pentameter or not.”

The talk turned to sport, and the beef was enjoyed against a background of leg spin and off drives.



Lessons in Cracking a Deadly Code #12.7
Jonty woke on St Bride’s day with a sense of foreboding, one which he couldn’t shake off, no matter how he tried telling himself not to be so stupid. Life didn’t resemble a mystery story, thank goodness, so it was highly unlikely that anyone would take advantage of the college festivities to commit murder most foul, having engineered themselves an ingenious and untraceable method of killing. The story of the night crawler and the book he’d been reading in bed had clearly been playing on his sub-conscious mind as he slept.

Over their ridiculously early breakfast he’d not been able to hide his unease from Orlando, who’d soon spotted something was wrong.

“It’s the old by the pricking of my thumbs thing. It’s totally illogical, on every ground, but I can’t persuade myself out of it, no matter how often I lecture myself, so please don’t try that one on me.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Orlando patted his hand. “I’d also not discount your feelings. Some people have a knack of picking up little clues without being aware they’ve done so. I suspect you’re one, so maybe you’ve picked up something in the atmosphere. Some undergraduate with a particularly guilty expression on his face that he didn’t hide soon enough, an expression which you’ve unconsciously filed away.”

“Perhaps the night crawler himself?” Jonty smiled. “That’s possible. In which case I shall await the event with interest. Unless he’s loosened one of the gargoyles, of course, although Browne would have spotted if one of those had been rigged to fall. Having said that, an innocent prank might be welcome.”



Lessons in Solving the Wrong Problem #13
Orlando looked over to where a well-dressed chap in tweeds had entered the marquee. Without Applecross’s words, they’d have been able to guess the newcomer—every inch a peer of the realm—was the landowner. The deference shown by those present would also have sealed the case. His lordship surveyed the company, then made a beeline for Applecross, where the empty seat which had been so puzzling now made sense. Had it been kept free deliberately in case the man himself made an appearance?

Lord Henry paused, hands on the back of his chair, eyeing Jonty, who had turned his head round to get a view of the visitor. “Is that a Stewart I see before me?”

“It is, sir.” Jonty rose, then offered his hand to be shaken. “Jonathan, known as Jonty.”

His lordship pumped the hand up and down. “Very pleased to meet you. You’re the image of your mother, but I suppose you know that.”

“I’ve been told so often, yes.” Jonty beamed. “And I count myself lucky to have inherited her bone structure.”

“Magnificent woman. Like many of my generation, I’d have married her in a trice, but your father was too swift and determined for the rest of us.” He patted Jonty’s shoulder. “I’m far from alone in saying that I might have been your father. Perhaps you get tired of hearing men of my generation express that thought.”

“Not tired, no, although I no longer keep tally. I’ve realised how many heads and hearts Mama must have turned in her pomp.”

It was quite a familiar conversation with anyone of his lordship’s generation. Jonty never appeared to tire of the esteem in which his parents were held so neither, by association, did Orlando. He felt part of the Stewart family and always would. As if the thought gave birth to the act, Jonty words of introduction were, “Lord Henry, this is Dr Coppersmith, my colleague at St Bride’s and an old friend of the Stewarts. Almost an adopted son, in Mama’s eyes.”

“Splendid, splendid.” His lordship shook Orlando’s hand with equal enthusiasm. A plate of food, borne by Kane, appeared on the table. Lord Henry thanked the student, then they all took their seats. “I’m so pleased that you’re both present, gentlemen. I hear you’re a regular Holmes and Watson.”

Orlando forced a smile. How he hated the man from Baker Street: any comparisons with him were odious. “We’ve been fortunate to be consulted on certain mysteries that have evaded previous solution, yes.” He was aware he sounded pompous and those who knew him well would have recognised that meant he was getting worked up. Was it the mention of Holmes that had made his hackles rise or something about Lord Henry that rankled?

“I’ve read about some of your adventures, of course. Your father’s accounts of them always make amusing reading. Better than much else one finds in The Times. Might I enquire as to whether he has employed much artistic licence?”

“You may and the answer is not a single bit.” Jonty didn’t appear to be as insulted by the question as Orlando felt about it. How dare anyone imply that the accounts of their investigations had in any way been embroidered? If anything, they’d been moderated somewhat, real life being so often tinged with events that would be frankly unbelievable if put on paper.  “You’ll be aware that my father has a reputation as being a stickler for the truth in all situations.”

If he didn’t know, he damn well should have, the tone implied. Evidently Jonty had been affronted, despite the charming smile he still wore.

Lord Henry either didn’t notice the indirect rebuke or ignored it. “That reassures me greatly. I have a question and I’ll come straight out with it. Would you be interested in casting an eye over an old mystery that puzzles my family? No hidden codes or gruesome murders, but something I would hope worthy of your cerebral capacity.”


πŸ‘¬πŸ’™πŸ”ͺπŸ’•πŸ”«πŸ’™πŸ‘¬

If the men of St. Bride’s College knew what Jonty Stewart and Orlando Coppersmith got up to behind closed doors, the scandal would rock early-20th-century Cambridge to its core. But the truth is, when they’re not busy teaching literature and mathematics, the most daring thing about them isn’t their love for each other—it’s their hobby of amateur sleuthing.

Because wherever Jonty and Orlando go, trouble seems to find them. Sunny, genial Jonty and prickly, taciturn Orlando may seem like opposites. But their balance serves them well as they sift through clues to crimes, and sort through their own emotions to grow closer. But at the end of the day, they always find the truth . . . and their way home together.

********

Be sure and check the author's website for a complete chronological list of novels, novellas, free short stories in the Cambridge Fellows Mysteries Universe.

πŸ‘¬πŸ’™πŸ”ͺπŸ’•πŸ”«πŸ’™πŸ‘¬

Cambridge Fellows Mysteries
Author Bio:
As Charlie Cochrane couldn't be trusted to do any of her jobs of choice - like managing a rugby team - she writes. Her favourite genre is gay fiction, predominantly historical romances/mysteries, but she's making an increasing number of forays into the modern day. She's even been known to write about gay werewolves - albeit highly respectable ones.

Her Cambridge Fellows series of Edwardian romantic mysteries were instrumental in seeing her named Speak Its Name Author of the Year 2009. She’s a member of both the Romantic Novelists’ Association and International Thriller Writers Inc.

Happily married, with a house full of daughters, Charlie tries to juggle writing with the rest of a busy life. She loves reading, theatre, good food and watching sport. Her ideal day would be a morning walking along a beach, an afternoon spent watching rugby and a church service in the evening.


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EMAIL:  cochrane.charlie2@googlemail.com



Lessons in Idle Tongues #11

Lessons in Cracking the Deadly Code #12.7

Lessons in Solving the Wrong Problem #13

Series


Friday, May 6, 2022

πŸ“˜πŸŽ₯Friday's Film AdaptationπŸŽ₯πŸ“˜: Fudge Cupcake Murder by Joanne Fluke



Summary:

Bakery owner Hannah Swensen just can’t keep her hands out of the batter when murder stirs things up in Lake Eden, Minnesota, leaving the sheriff dead, a deputy accused, and a killer on the loose . . .
 
For Hannah, life seems to be lacking a certain flavor lately. Maybe it’s the local sheriff’s election that’s got her down. For years, Sheriff Grant’s been the iron hand in town. But now, Hannah’s brother-in-law, Bill, is giving the old blowhard the fight of his long, dubious career—and Grant’s not taking it well, especially once the polls show Bill pulling ahead.
 
But before anyone can taste victory, Hannah makes a very unappetizing discovery: Sheriff Grant’s body in the dumpster behind the high school where she’s teaching her cooking class. Worse, the poor man still has fudge frosting on his shirt from one of her cupcakes.
 
The number one—and only—suspect is Bill, but Hannah’s not swallowing it. Plenty of people had reason to hate Sheriff Grant. Soon, Hannah’s dishing up scandalous secrets, steaming hot betrayals, and enough intrigue to keep the gossip mill at The Cookie Jar going through several pots of decaf. And the closer Hannah gets to the truth, the closer she gets to smoking out a murderer with a very nasty recipe for silencing people . . .
 
INCLUDES TEN ORIGINAL DESSERT RECIPES FOR YOU TO TRY!
 
“For fans of culinary mysteries.”—Library Journal
 
“Scrumptious.”—Publishers Weekly



CHAPTER 1
Hannah Swensen moved to the front of the rectangular box and braced herself. Although she had no specialized training, she felt like a member of a bomb squad who was preparing to disarm an explosive device. Taking a deep breath for courage, Hannah reached forward and released the catch that held the grate in place, jumping back to what she hoped would be a safe distance.

"Good heavens!" Hannah gasped as Moishe shot out of the veterinarian-approved small dog carrier and barreled into the kitchen. She'd had no idea her feline roommate could move that fast. He resembled an orange and white blur with multiple feet, all of them moving at warp speed.

Hannah picked up the carrier and stashed it in the laundry room cupboard. The one time she'd forgotten to put it away, Moishe made inroads on the plastic, and it now looked as if a miniature plow had been digging furrows in the top. At least the plastic carrier had held up better than the cardboard one she used the first time she took Moishe to the vet. By the time she arrived, the cardboard was in shreds and Moishe was out and prowling around in the back of her truck, yowling in outrage.

Pausing in the doorway, Hannah was relieved to hear a loud crunching noise coming from the depths of the kitchen. The early morning trip to the vet had been traumatic for both of them and Moishe was attempting to forget the ordeal by eating. It was a good thing she'd topped off his food bowl before they left the condo.

Hannah grabbed the bag of "senior" kitty crunchies her vet had recommended and carried them to the kitchen. Doctor Bob warned her that some cats rejected new food and he'd handed her a handout of helpful tips that were supposed to transform all cats into eager eaters of senior fare.

Moishe raised his head from his bowl to glare at Hannah balefully. It was the same look one might give to a traitor or an unfaithful spouse, and Hannah immediately felt guilty.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I know you hate to go to the vet," Hannah did her best to explain to a cat who'd never looked more unforgiving. "You were due for your shots and I'm only trying to keep you healthy."

Moishe stared at her for another long moment and then turned back to his food bowl again. Hannah took advantage of this temporary truce to pour a cup of coffee from the thermos she'd filled before they'd left. "I'll be right back," Hannah said to the ears that stuck up over the rim of the food bowl. The rest of Moishe's face was buried in its depths. "I have to change clothes. You shed all over my new sweater."

Moishe didn't deign to reply and Hannah headed off toward the bedroom. Her resident feline always shed when he was unhappy. It wasn't Doctor Bob. Moishe liked him as well as a cat could like the man who gave him his shots and prodded him in undignified places. He just hated the process of traveling there.

Once Hannah had changed into clothing less hairy, she came back to the kitchen to find Moishe sitting beside an empty food bowl. Since there was no time like the present to try out his new cuisine, Hannah dumped in the senior food and crossed her fingers for luck. Leaving Moishe sniffing the new food suspiciously, she slipped into the old bomber jacket she'd found at Helping Hands, Lake Eden's thrift shop, and headed for the door. But before Hannah could grab the battle-scarred shoulder bag purse that contained everything she might need for the day and then some, the phone rang.

"Mother," Hannah muttered in the same tone she reserved for the expletives she tried not to use around her five-year-old niece, Tracey. It had to be her mother. Delores Swensen was a genius at calling at precisely the moment that Hannah intended to step out the door. Sorely tempted to let the answering machine bail her out, Hannah thought better of it. Her mother would only call again at an even more inconvenient time. Giving a deep sigh, she retraced her steps and grabbed the wall phone above the kitchen table.

"Hello, Mother," Hannah said, sinking down in a chair. Conversations with Delores were seldom brief. But the voice that answered her wasn't her mother's.

"I called the shop, but Lisa said you were coming in late because you had to take Moishe to the vet."

"That's right," Hannah said, getting up to pour the last of the coffee into her cup. It was her sister and conversations with Andrea weren't exactly short either.

"There's nothing wrong, is there?" Andrea asked.

"Only with my ears. Moishe yowled all the way there and all the way back. He's fine, Andrea. I just took him in for his shots and his yearly checkup."

"That's good," Andrea said, sounding relieved. "I know how crazy you are about him. Did you take one of Bill's posters to the vet's office?" "Yes. Sue was just putting it up in the window when I left."

"Oh, good. Every poster helps. Have you read the paper yet?"

Hannah glanced down at her purse. The Lake Eden Journal, still in its heat-sealed plastic sleeve, was stuck in the side pocket. "I'm bringing it to work with me. I thought I'd read it when I take my break."

"Look at it now, Hannah. Turn to page three."

"Okay," Hannah agreed, proceeding to do just that. But page three was the editorial section, where she didn't see anything that would account for Andrea's excitement.

"Do you see it?" Andrea asked, an I-know-something-you-don't-know note in her voice.

"No."

"It's the election poll!"

Hannah bent over the paper for a closer look at the small box Rod Metcalf had been running in the paper for the past month. Then she let out a whoop of excitement. "Bill's running neck and neck with Sheriff Grant!"

"That's right! I told him we could do it! Of course the election's still two weeks away and anything can happen, but wouldn't it be wonderful if Bill actually won?"

"Absolutely! You've done a wonderful job running his campaign, Andrea."

"Thanks. I've got some other news, too."

"What's that?"

"Doc Knight moved up my due date to the third week in November."

Hannah frowned. "Can he do that?"

"Sure. It's all guesswork, anyway. Everybody thinks they can tell, but they can't. Bill's mother says she's sure the baby will be born on election night, but I think she just wants to take my place at Bill's victory party. Mother's holding out for early December. She says I'm not as big as I was with Tracey and it'll be a while yet. Then there's Bill. He thinks I'll have the baby early, like before Halloween."

"When do you think it'll be?"

"On Thanksgiving Day, just as we're sitting down to dessert."

"How can you tell?" Hannah asked. "Is there some sort of sixth sense that expectant mothers have?"

"No, it's just that your pecan pie is my favorite part of Thanksgiving dinner. And I'm looking forward to it so much, I just know I'm going to miss it."

"You won't miss it. If you have to go to the hospital, I'll bake another pie and bring it to you."

"That's so sweet! Thanks, Hannah. I'd better run ... or maybe I should say waddle. My balance is off today. I'll check in with you later."

Hannah said goodbye and hung up the phone. She refilled Moishe's water and told him what a good boy he was. And since he appeared to be eating his senior fare without a problem, she crumpled up the tip sheet Doctor Bob had given her and tossed it in the trash. Then she pulled on her gloves and headed out the door.

An icy wind greeted Hannah as she stepped outside, and she shivered as she descended the stairs to the ground floor. It was only the middle of October, but it was time to think about resurrecting her winter parka. Once she'd gone down another flight of stairs to the underground garage, Hannah headed straight for her candy apple red Suburban, the vehicle all the Lake Eden children called the "cookie truck," climbed in behind the wheel, started it up, and headed up the ramp toward the exit.

Hannah drove through her condo complex, turned left on Old Lake Road, and took the scenic route to town. Its circuitous course wound around Eden Lake and although it was longer than the interstate by several miles, Hannah preferred it. There was something soothing about driving past Minnesota family farms and groves of maple trees sporting colorful fall leaves. She preferred the scent of cool water and aromatic pine to the exhaust from whatever car she happened to be following on the interstate.

As Hannah waited for the stoplight at the intersection of Old Lake Road and Dairy Avenue, she spotted a perfect telephone pole. Since there was no one behind her, she pulled over at the side of the road and retrieved one of Bill's posters from the back of her truck. It only took a moment to tack it up on the pole and Hannah grinned as she stepped back and faced the larger than life-size picture of her brother-in-law's smiling face. The poster bore the legend "Bill Todd for Sheriff" in large block letters and Hannah had promised Andrea that she'd put up at least six posters every day.

Ten minutes later, Hannah pulled into the alley and turned in at the small white building that housed her bakery and cookie shop. Once she'd parked in her spot and gone in the back door, she washed her hands and went through the swinging restaurant-style door into the coffee shop, prepared to relieve her young partner, Lisa Herman. She found Lisa on a tall stool behind the counter, surrounded by a crowd of morning cookie buyers.

"Here she is now!" Lisa called out, looking very relieved to see Hannah. "You can ask her yourself."

The crowd swiveled toward Hannah and she noticed that Bertie Straub had stationed herself in front as the point man. Bertie was still wearing her bright purple smock from the Cut 'n Curl and the scowl on her face inversely mirrored the gold happy face on the bib of the smock.

"Well, it's about time!" Bertie said, glancing pointedly at her watch. "We saw that Bill's ahead in the polls. Do you honestly think he's going to win?"

"Of course Bill's going to win!" It was her mother's voice. Hannah turned toward the doorway to see Delores standing there, resplendent in a fashionable royal blue pantsuit and sporting a "Bill Todd for Sheriff" button on her collar. "And if you don't vote for him, Bertie Straub, you'll have to deal with me!"

Bertie gave an audible gulp. "I'm going to vote for him, Delores."

"I should hope so!" Delores walked over to take Hannah's arm. "I need to see you in the kitchen, dear."

Moments later, Hannah's mother was settled at the workstation with a cup of coffee and two Peanut Butter Melts. Hannah sat down on an adjoining stool and waited patiently while Delores ate one cookie in dainty bites.

"Delicious!" her mother declared, wiping her hands on a napkin. "Have you heard from Norman?"

"Not yet," Hannah said, hoping this wasn't going to turn into a lecture about her reluctance to commit to one particular man. Hannah liked Norman Rhodes and dated him whenever the opportunity presented itself, but her mother believed that any female who wasn't married by the time she renewed her TV Guide subscription for the second time was doomed. Now that Delores had gone into the antique business with Norman's mother, Carrie, both of them were nudging for nuptials.

"Carrie says he's all tied up with the convention," Delores went on. "He's heading up a panel on cosmetic dentistry, you know. It's quite a coup for a practitioner of Norman's age."

"I know, Mother. Norman told me all about it before he left for Seattle."

"Maybe not all," Delores looked a bit smug. "Did he tell you that Beverly is on his panel?"

"Beverly who?" Hannah asked, even though asking wasn't really necessary since Delores was all primed to tell her.

"Doctor Beverly Thorndike."

"Oh," Hannah said, deciding a one-word response was wisest since she had no idea who Doctor Thorndike was.

"Carrie told me they were planning to be married, but Beverly decided she was too young to make that sort of commitment. At least she gave back the ring. But you must know all this so I won't go into it again."

Hannah nodded, even though she knew nothing about Norman's failed engagement to Beverly Thorndike, female dentist.

"That's not the reason I came in," Delores said, reaching into her purse to pull out a recipe card. "I'm sorry I'm late, but here's my recipe for Hawaiian Pot Roast."

Hannah did her best not to sigh as she reached out and took the handwritten card. Hawaiian Pot Roast was her mother's favorite recipe and Hannah had eaten enough of it to last her a lifetime.

"I was in a rush when I copied it. You can read it, can't you?" Hannah glanced down at the recipe and nodded.

"It's not too late to get it in the Lake Eden cookbook, is it, dear?"

Hannah wavered. Saying it was too late would be a handy excuse and it was theoretically true, since the deadline Hannah had given to the other contributors had come and gone. But if she said it was too late to her mother, Delores would never let her hear the end of it. In the interest of family peace, Hannah was obliged to include it.

"It's not too late," Hannah said, earning a smile from her mother.

"Thank you, dear. I know I should have turned it in sooner, but I've been so busy lately with Bill's campaign and the store. And now I'd better run. We're expecting a shipment of Chippewa artifacts and Jon Walker promised he'd stop by to see if he could tell if they're authentic."

Delores gave a little wave and ducked out the back door. Granny's Attic was the next building over and she could dash across the parking lot. Hannah waited until the door had closed behind her mother and then she glanced down at the recipe. "Four cups of sugar?"

Lisa came into the kitchen just in time to hear Hannah's comment. "Is that Rose's coconut cake recipe?"

"No, it's Mother's Hawaiian Pot Roast."

"And it's that sweet?"

"Enough to make your teeth ache. Mother wrote it out for me and she wants it in the cookbook. Do you think that I should ..."

"No," Lisa interrupted, shaking her head. "She'll never forgive you if you don't include it."

"You're right. I'll reduce the sugar, but I can't make too many changes. If Mother doesn't recognize her own recipe, I'm going to be on her kill-now-and-bury-later list for the rest of my life."


Bakery owner Hannah and her sister find the sheriff's body. Hannah promises cop detective wannabe boyfriend not to get involved, but her sister's husband is running at the sheriff election making him prime suspect and suspended.

Release Date: June 19, 2016
Release Time: 86 minutes

Director: Kristoffer Tabori

Cast:
Alison Sweeney as Hannah Swensen
Cameron Mathison as Mike Kingston
Lisa Durupt as Andrea Todd
Toby Levins as Bill Todd
Juliana Wimbles as Lisa Herman
Barbara Niven as Delores Swensen
Gabriel Hogan as Norman Rhodes
Aaron Pearl as Gary Koehler
Lauren K. Robek as Janet (as Kirsten Robek)
Garry Chalk as Mayor Bascomb
Jesse Moss as Kevin Miller
Marion Eisman as Mrs. Norton
Rebecca Toolan as Mrs. Houser
Ty Olsson as Sheriff Jim Grant
Venus Terzo as Nettie Grant
Hannah Pederson as Paige Miller
Nick Marinos as John Morse (as Nicholas Marinos)
Lina Renna as Lucy Miller
Jillian Fargey as Sophie Bascomb
Brenna O'Brien as Carly Winters
Flora Karas as Clerk
Viv Leacock as Deputy Peters
Marilyn Norry as Edna Morse
Matt Fentiman as Car Owner






Author Bio:
Like Hannah Swensen, Joanne Fluke grew up in a small town in rural Minnesota where her neighbors were friendly, the winters were fierce, and the biggest scandal was the spotting of unidentified male undergarments on a young widow's clothesline. She insists that there really are 10,000 lakes and the mosquito is NOT the state bird.

While pursuing her writing career, Joanne has worked as: a public school teacher, a psychologist, a musician, a private detective's assistant, a corporate, legal, and pharmaceutical secretary, a short order cook, a florist's assistant, a caterer and party planner, a computer consultant on a now-defunct operating system, a production assistant on a TV quiz show, half of a screenwriting team with her husband, and a mother, wife, and homemaker. 

She now lives in Southern California with her husband, her kids, his kids, their three dogs, one elderly tabby, and several noisy rats in the attic.


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EMAIL: Gr8Cles@joannefluke.com



Fudge Cupcake Murder #5

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