Table of Contents
Praise for Sprinkle with Murder
A tender cozy full of warm and likable characters and a refreshingly sympathetic murder victim. Readers will look forward to more of McKinlays tasty concoctions.
Publishers Weekly (starred review)
McKinlays debut mystery flows as smoothly as Melanie Coopers buttercream frosting. Her characters are delicious, and the dash of romance is just the icing on the cake.
Sheila Connolly, author of Red Delicious Death
Jenn McKinlay delivers all the ingredients for a winning read. Frost me another!
Cleo Coyle, national bestselling author of the Coffeehouse Mysteries
A delicious new series featuring a spirited heroine, luscious cupcakes, and a clever murder. Jenn McKinlay has baked a sweet read.
Krista Davis, author of the Domestic Diva Mysteries
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Jenn McKinlay
SPRINKLE WITH MURDER
BUTTERCREAM BUMP OFF
For the Hub, Chris Hansen Orf.
To quote your own song back to you: Ill still love you when Im dust and bone.
Acknowledgments
For the love of cupcakes! I want to acknowledge all of the wonderful readers who have taken Mel, Angie, and Tate into their hearts. I am just delighted that so many of you get it! Its been such a pleasure hearing from you all. Special thanks to Mat Matazzoni for entering and winning the Name the Cupcake contest. Youre in these pages somewherehave fun finding you!
As always, a special thanks to the dudes, Beckett and Wyatt. Thanks for your help in the kitchen as we experiment with our cupcake recipes and for making me laugh, especially when we suffer cupcake fail.
Thanks to my families, the McKinlays and the Orfs, for your constant encouragement. It means more than I can ever say.
Props to Jessica Faust, agent extraordinaire; Kate Seaver, the ultimate editor; Katherine Pelz, the gifted assistant editor; Andy Ball, the brilliant copyeditor; and Megan Swartz, PR whiz. I could never manage any of this without all of you.
And heres a shout-out to all of my pals in the kitchen (my fellow bloggers at the Mystery Lovers Kitchen) and my writer pals, the ladies of the loop. Also, thanks to my dear, dear friends for coming to the signings, buying the books, and for enjoying this e-ticket ride almost as much as I do! Love you all!
One
You need to get to the corner of Fifth Avenue and Scottsdale Road. Now.
Angie? Melanie Cooper barely recognized her business partners voice through her sleep-induced haze. Whats going on?
Fifth and Scottsdale, Angie DeLaura repeated. The phone went dead.
Mel glanced at the cell phone in her hand then at her alarm clock, which read 6:57. A phone call this early in the morning had better mean Angies car had been stolen or was on fire.
She heaved off her comforter and rolled out of bed. Mel didnt like mornings on the best of days, but in January, even in Scottsdale, Arizona, it surely was a crime to be dragged out of bed before the sun, especially without a cup of coffee to chase away the morning chill. Still, Angie had been her best friend for more than twenty years. She wouldnt have called if it wasnt important.
That thought got Mel moving. She grabbed a thick-hooded sweatshirt and tugged it on over her flannel pajamas. She could feel the static raise her short blonde hair up, and she imagined she looked like a troll doll on a bad-hair day, without the cute belly button. She jammed her feet into her slip-on sneakers and grabbed her keys.
Mel lived in a snug studio apartment above their cupcake bakery, Fairy Tale Cupcakes, in the heart of Old Town Scottsdale. Angie was her partner, along with their other childhood friend, Tate Harper, who was their main investor. The corner of Fifth and Scottsdale was only a block away. She could be there in minutes.
She pounded down the back stairs and hurried to her red Mini Cooper, which was parked in an adjacent lot. Two quick rights later, she slid into a parking spot in front of an art gallery. The commuter traffic was just beginning, and the intersection ahead of her had an impressive line of cars waiting for the light to change.
Mel spotted Angie sitting on a wooden bench just south of the corner. She didnt appear to be sporting burns or lacerations, so a car accident was out of the question.
Whats up? Mel asked as she slid onto the bench beside her.
Wait for it, Angie said and handed her a large, steaming latte in a tall paper cup.
Mels will to live increased tenfold.
Wait for... ?
Angie held up her hand, and Mel took a sip from her cup, knowing it would do no good to press. Angie was stubborn like that.
The steaming swallow of java was halfway down her throat when she glanced up and saw a six-foot-tall cupcake come around the corner. Her coffee shot back up her throat, and she erupted into a fit of coughing, causing Angie to pound her on the back.
Mel shoved her aside as soon as she could drag in a breath and goggled at the enormous pink confection strutting between the idling vehicles. It took only a moment to recognize her archenemy, but there was no doubt about it. The giant cupcake was Olivia Puckett!
She was wearing an electric blue satin skirt, pleated accordion style and topped by a pink puffy blouse, stuffed to resemble a gob of frosting and beaded to give it a sprinkle effect. She wore this over bright blue support hose and broad white high heels. A big, round cherry sat on top of her head, tied under her chin like a bonnet. She was handing out hot pink flyers, one of which Angie shoved into Mels hands.
Free Cupcakes! it read in bold print. It was a coupon for anyone who entered Confections, Olivias rival bakery.
Do you think its a felony to hit a cupcake with your car? Mel asked.
Hard to say. You might want to check with Uncle Stan first, Angie said.
Mels Uncle Stan was a detective with the Scottsdale Police Department. She supposed she could ask him, but somehow she didnt think shed like the answer.
The light changed, and they watched as the enormous cupcake was caught in the crosswalk and had to hustle her pleated derriere out of the way before the rude honks escalated to rude hand gestures.
It was then, as she tottered onto the curb trying to catch her balance, that the giant cupcake spotted Angie and Mel. She gave them a calculated glance as if she considered them potential customers, but then recognition kicked in. Her ingratiating smile morphed into a look of haughty disdainimpressive with a cherry the size of a bowling ball on her headand she turned away from them with her nose in the air.
Youd think after her shenanigans last year Olivia would strive to maintain a lower profile, Angie said.
Youd think, Mel agreed. But what kind of nemesis would she be if she crawled off and disappeared?
True, Angie said. Where would we channel all of our misdirected rage if we didnt have Ginormica Cupcake?
A horn blared, and they glanced up to see a silver Lexus pass by Olivia, who dropped her basket of flyers in surprise. The Lexus zoomed past, and Mel recognized the driver as Tate, their business partner. Before she could retrieve her basket, Olivias pink coupons were scattered by a blast of exhaust from a passing Escalade. The scene looked like an impromptu ticker tape parade.
