Everyone Wants A Bite Of Joanne Fluke’s Wickedly Tasty Hannah Swensen Mysteries!
Winter in Lake Eden, Minnesota, is the perfect time to curl up by a cozy fire with something—and someone—sweet. But while bakery owner Hannah Swensen can provide herself with the confections, cuddling will have to take a back seat to sleuthing when her sometime-squeeze becomes a murder suspect...
With the launch party of her mother’s novel around the corner, Hannah has a dress to fit into and a date with her sister, Andrea, at Lake Eden's new health club, Heavenly Bodies. Dragging herself out of bed on a frigid Minnesota morning for exercise, of all things, is bad enough. Discovering a dead body floating in the gym’s jacuzzi? Okay, that's worse. Nor does it help that there's a plate of The Cookie Jar’s very own cream puffs garnishing the murder scene. The fact that they were purchased by none other than Hannah's part-time flame, Detective Mike Kingston, is simply the icing on what's shaping up to be one very messy cake...
Mike may be the prime suspect in the murder of man-eating bombshell Ronni Ward, but he's by no means the only one. Ronni, a fitness instructor at both the Sheriff’s department and Heavenly Bodies, made a nasty habit of throwing her own heavenly body at every man, eligible or not, who crossed her path. Plenty of Lake Eden’s ladies won’t miss Ronni, including her ex-fiance’s former girlfriend, the angry mother of one of her would-be conquests, and even the mayor’s wife. Could any of them have wanted her gone badly enough to make it happen? Mike’s recruited Hannah to find out, and, as any suspended, suspected detective would, he’s micromanaging her every step of the way...
Between trying to narrow the list of Ronni’s enemies down to fewer than half the town’s female population and resisting the urge to remove Mike from the running by throttling him herself, Hannah has her plate full. Trouble is, when it comes to cookies—and to murder—there's always room for one more...
Includes 12 ORIGINAL Dessert Recipes!
Praise for New York Times bestselling author, Joanne Fluke’s Hannah Swensen mysteries…
Carrot Cake Murder
“Filled with juicy scandal, delightfully eccentric characters and 21 tempting recipes…the ending will leave cozy fans gasping for breath.”
Key Lime Pie Murder
“Yummy…Fluke has developed a charming supporting cast—all feel like friends by the time the murder is solved. The dozens of tempting recipes Fluke includes are an added treat.”
Cherry Cheesecake Murder
“All of Lake Eden’s warmly eccentric characters return for a starring role in another delightful and funny installment.”
Peach Cobbler Murder
Her tastiest yet.”
Sugar Cookie Murder
“A clever and delicious treat for Christmas.”
—Mystery Lovers Bookshop News
Fudge Cupcake Murder
“This fifth installment of the Hannah Swensen mysteries is Fluke’s best offering to date.”
—Times Record News (Wichita Falls, TX)
Lemon Meringue Pie Murder
“A wonderful mystery…this book is as warm and cozy as a dozen Cinnamon Crisps! This series may remind some of another well-known series that includes recipes, but it is better!
—Cozies, Capers, and Crimes
Blueberry Muffin Murder
A Book Sense 76 Top Ten Mystery Pick
“A delightful confection.”
Strawberry Shortcake Murder
“Tasty enough to serve to mystery readers.”
Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder
“An entertaining debut with some delectable recipes as a bonus.”
—Kirkus Reviews Chapter One
There was a loud crash as someone dropped a platter. A
split second later, Hannah Swensen reached up to pick a
piece of pepperoni out of her curly red hair. She examined it,
identified it for what it was, and just barely managed to resist
the urge to pop it into her mouth. Although one bite of the
traditional pizza topping might not exceed her calorie count
for lunch, it could pave the way to a self-indulgent feast from
the menu at Bertanelli’s Pizza, a popular eatery in Lake Eden,
One glance down at the salad she’d ordered and Hannah
almost gave way to temptation. It was a perfectly good salad,
crispy lettuce in three varieties, several slices of tomato, strips
of yellow and red bell pepper for color, and a dressing of balsamic
vinegar and olive oil on the side. Salads were good.
Salads were healthful. Salads were much better than pizza
when you had to lose at least ten pounds because everything
you owned was too tight around the middle, including your
very favorite pair of jeans.
“What’s that?” her sister Andrea asked, watching Hannah
wrap the meaty missile in a napkin and set it aside.
“Pepperoni. I heard a crash right before it hit. One of
Ellie’s new waitresses must have dropped a pizza platter.”
Without another word, both sisters picked up their winter
parkas and slid over to the edge of the booth so they could
peer out at the other diners. It was Saturday, and Bertanelli’s
was packed with customers. It was also November in Minnesota,
and that meant the coatrack by the door was also
packed, and they’d had to stash their bulky outerwear in
their booth. Andrea was sharing her side with her husband,
Bill Todd, the Winnetka County sheriff. Hannah’s lunch date
was her sometimes boyfriend, Bill’s chief detective, Mike
Kingston. This was obviously a working lunch because the
men hadn’t even noticed the porcine projectile that had landed
on Hannah’s head. They were too busy discussing a bungled
bank robbery that had taken place in a neighboring town that
The interior at Bertanelli’s was comfort itself, with carved
wooden booths and tables, plastered walls with fake brick
peeking through, and Italian scenes painted by the Jordan
High senior art class. The candles on the tables were stuck in
wine bottles that had been dripped with various candle colors,
a tribute to the crafts movement of the fifties. All in all, it
was a nice, relaxing place to have lunch, but not today.
“Uh-oh,” Andrea said, beginning to frown.
“You said it,” Hannah added, spotting Bridget Murphy,
who had just righted herself after running smack-dab into the
waitress who’d been carrying the pizza that had provided
Hannah’s unexpected slice of sausage.
Both women watched as Bridget, who was known for her
fiery Irish temper, veered off toward the big round booth in
the corner where Ronni Ward was holding court. Ronni was
flanked by four of Lake Eden’s most successful males. Mayor
Bascomb and bank president Doug Greerson were seated on
her left. Al Percy of Lake Eden Realty, and Bert Kuehn, coowner
of Bertanelli’s, were seated on her right.
Everyone had thought that Ronni was gone for good last
winter when she got engaged and moved in with her fiancé to
help him run his fitness center in Elk River. But Ronni and
the man she’d promised to marry had broken it off, and, as
Hannah and Andrea’s grandmother had been fond of saying,
the bad penny had turned up in Lake Eden again. Bill, who
was a soft touch for a sob story, had rehired Ronni as the fitness
instructor at the sheriff’s department, and the word on
the Lake Eden gossip hotline was that Ronni was flirting
heavily, or perhaps even more, with the deputies at the sheriff’s
station, regardless of their marital status.
Unable to live on the small salary the sheriff’s department
paid her, Ronni had found a part-time job at Heavenly Bodies,
the new fitness spa at the Tri-County Mall. Her track record
there appeared to be more of the same. She’d sold more
memberships than anyone else on the staff, but the members
she’d signed were almost all male. Several local wives weren’t
happy about their husbands’ resolve to get into shape by
joining one of Ronni’s exercise classes or hiring her as their
personal fitness coach after hours.
“Here comes Cyril,” Hannah said as Bridget’s husband attempted
and failed to intercept his wife before she reached
The two sisters watched for a moment. At first only words
were exchanged, but with each salvo, Bridget’s frown grew
fiercer and Ronni’s scowl etched deeper.
“What’s happening?” Bill asked, tapping his wife on the
“Ronni Ward’s arguing with Bridget Murphy, but Cyril’s
there and he’s trying to break it up.”
Almost simultaneously, Bill and Mike reached for another
piece of pizza. Hannah thought she knew what was running
through their minds. Bertanelli’s had the best pizza in Minnesota.
If Bill and Mike had to leave to break up a catfight
between Ronni Ward and Bridget Murphy, they wanted to
finish their lunch first.
“Bridget doesn’t look happy,” Andrea went on with her
Hannah watched Bridget’s husband put himself in what
might be harm’s way to block Bridget’s access to Ronni.
The women’s voices became louder, and Bill reached for a
final piece of pizza. “What’s happening now?”
“I think it’s almost over,” Andrea told him. “Cyril’s got
Bridget in one of those holds you see on the wrestling channel,
and he’s hauling her away. I wonder what set her off?”
Ronni did, Hannah thought, but she didn’t say it. She’s
enough to set any woman off. “I wonder if Ellie knows
where Bert is,” Hannah speculated.
“She knows. She’s over there at the kitchen door, just staring
at Bert. If looks could kill, Bert would be a statistic. One
of these days Ronni is going to get hers, and it won’t be
“Right,” Hannah said, and then she leaned across the
table and lowered her voice. “I just hope I’m there to see it.”
“Me too! Maybe someone ought to call Stephanie Bas-
comb, and Sally Percy, and Amalia Greerson, and invite them
to come out here for lunch.”
“You wouldn’t!” Hannah said, giving her sister a long
“Probably not, but it’s fun to think about what would
happen if somebody . . . uh-oh! Bridget got loose!”
Both sisters watched anxiously as Bridget raced back toward
Ronni’s table. Cyril looked dazed, and Hannah had a
sneaking suspicion that Bridget had bitten him on the shoulder
since he was rubbing it through his shirt. It took him a
moment to recover, and that gave Bridget time to reach her
goal. Once she arrived, red-faced and panting, she hurtled
herself at Ronni and grabbed her by the hair.
“Have you no shame?” Bridget’s voice took on the thick
Irish brogue of her ancestors. “He’s got a wife and baby, and
another one on the way. You leave my boy alone or you’ll answer
“You tell her, Bridget!” someone shouted, and it sounded
like Ellie to Hannah.
“Knock it off, will you? We’re trying to enjoy our lunch
here!” a diner shouted, and Hannah recognized the voice. It
was her downstairs neighbor, Phil Plotnik, and he was sitting
with a whole table of DelRay workers.
“Be quiet! Both of you!” a woman called out from a booth
across the room. “And if you can’t, do us a favor and take it
Several other shouts for Ronni and Bridget to cease and
desist came from various sections of the dining room. Almost
everyone wanted the altercation to end, but it was pretty
clear that there was even more trouble brewing when a half-
dozen Jordan High students at a table in the center began to
clap and whistle.
“Food fight!” one of the boys yelled, and all six of them
started to hurl garlic bread and meatballs.
Pistachio Winks Recipe
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.
1 cup butter (2 sticks, 1/2 pound)
3 cups white (granulated) sugar
4 eggs, beaten (just whip them up in a glass with a
1/8 cup (2 Tablespoons) molasses
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
3 teaspoons vanilla
2 cups finely chopped pistachio nutmeats
4 cups flour (pack it down in the measuring cup
when you measure it)
1/2 cup white (granulated) sugar for later
15 to 30 red or green maraschino cherries cut into
Melt the butter in a microwave-safe bowl or measuring
cup. It’ll take about 90 seconds on HIGH. (You can
also melt it in a pan on the stove if you prefer.)
Pour the butter into a mixing bowl and add the sugar.
Mix well and let the mixture cool to room temperature.
Mix in the beaten eggs. Add the molasses and mix
well. (If you spray your Tablespoon measure or your 1/8
cup measure with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray,
the molasses won’t stick to it when you measure.)