Miranda Bliss - Dead Men Dont Get the Munchies

PRAISE FOR

Cooking Up Murder

A high-speed ride through the joys and vicissitudes of relationships, the trials of attending a cookery class when you are the worlds worst cook, and of trying to solve a murder when the police think you probably did it... A good series debut that leaves the reader wondering what is going to happen next.

MyShelf.com

Charming... a blissful who-done-it that is fil ed with some very funny scenes and characters who care about each other.

Midwest Book Review

The writing is spel binding. The blend of mystery, humor, and romance keeps the reader hooked to the pages. The characters are entertaining, and it is not surprising that I find myself eager to read more about this duo. The addition of recipes in the back of the book only adds to its charm.

Culinary-mystery fans wil need to add this book to their reading piles.

Roundtable Reviews

A fun, quick read. A new twist on the favorite culinary mysteries.

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DEAD MEN DONT GET THE MUNCHIES

A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author Copyright 2007 by The Berkley Publishing Group.

Cover art by Stephanie Power.

Cover design by Rita Frangie.

Interior text design by Kristin del Rosario.

Al rights reserved.

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For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

ISBN: 1-4295-8886-1

BERKLEY PRIME CRIME

Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

The name BERKLEY PRIME CRIME and the BERKLEY

PRIME CRIME design are trademarks belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

One

O

Q I, ANNIE CAPSHAW, AM THE WORLDS WORST

COOK.

There, I admitted it, and Im not even ashamed.

Dont get me wrong, Im not completely without scru-ples when it comes to the culinary arts. I know enough to be embarrassed every time I set off the smoke alarm in my kitchen. Im appal ed at the thought that Ive burned water.

Im sorrytrulyabout al the roasts Ive seared beyond recognition, the many cakes that have flopped, and the fried foods that in my not-so-able hands give a whole new meaning to the word crispy.

But Im not ashamed. Why should I be? Some people are born to be artists, right? And some are born to sing. Some people have a natural talent for things like trading stocks, or doing brain surgery, or (as weird as it seems) for cooking.

I am simply not one of them. And that, as the saying goes, is that.

Or at least it should be.

It would be, if not for the fact that in addition to my day job as a tel er at Pioneer Savings and Loan, Im also the business manager of Bel ywashers, a pub and restaurant in Alexandria, Virginia.

Yeah, I know, its pretty ironic. And on days when simply considering it doesnt scare me to death, I think its pretty funny, too.

Me, working in a restaurant.

Lucky thing, the cooking gods dont seem to be holding any of this against us. Weve been successful, thanks to the talents and genius of our owner, Jim MacDonald, a staff thats as good as any, a warm and welcoming atmosphere, and prices that are reasonable (and could be just a little higher, I think, but then, Im the one who watches the bottom line). In the six months since its opened, Bel ywashers has become a favorite of the locals and a real destination for people from al over the D.C. Metro area who are looking for interesting menu choices and fresh ingredients. Starting tonight, with our Best Bar Foods, Bar None class, we are also the official home of Bel ywashers Academy, where every Monday, folks who are interested in learning more about cooking can kick back, create, and eat some real y good food.

With a little luck and a lot of hard work, Jim and I and the rest of the staff are planning on keeping things going great guns, too.

And we wil . Provided I dont go anywhere near the gril , the oven, the prep area, or the dessert table.

Oh, and as long as no more dead bodies show up.

The very idea made me jump on the barstool where I was seated. Or maybe that was because I was so lost in thought, I hadnt realized Margaret Whitemore, the cooking student who was just checking in, was tearing a check out of her checkbook.

That wil be $120, I said, and when I did, my throat was tight and my mouth was dry. Thinking about murder wil do that to a person. You can go right back, I added, and because Margaret was a white-haired granny who wore thick glasses and moved with al the speed of Beltway traffic in rush hour, I raised my voice so she was sure to hear me and pointed in case she couldnt see. Youre D E A D M E

N D O N T G E T T H E M U N C H I E S

assigned to... I checked the list on the bar in front of me.

Desserts. Jims in the kitchen. Hel show you to your workstation.

Margaret gathered her tote bag, her umbrel a (it wasnt raining, but there was talk of it for later in the evening), her coat, and her purse. While she did, I had a little time to kil .

Poor choice of words, and as if she could read my mind, Eve leaned over from the barstool next to mine. In an un-characteristic show of restraint, she kept her voice down.

This is perfect! Eves blue eyes sparkled with excitement.

She didnt have to tel me; I knew shed taken advantage of Bel ywashers being closed that afternoon. Shed been to the spa; her blonde hair was sleek, shiny, and newly trimmed. Now we final y have a chance to talk. So what do you say, Annie? Youre the detective. What would you do?