{"product_id":"dial-m-for-mousse-isbn-9780425281253","title":"Dial M for Mousse","description":"\u003cb\u003eMurder takes the cake in an irresistible Emergency Dessert Squad mystery from the national bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Silence of the Flans\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e The Emergency Dessert Squad business is booming, with owner and baker Winnie Johnson working overtime to satisfy the emergency cravings of Silver Lake, Ohio. Her latest order, a plate of motivational desserts for an artists’ retreat, is just what she needs to keep her mind off her own relationship woes.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e But Winnie’s problems seem like trifles when she discovers the body of retreat owner Sally Dearfield mere inches away from five oh-so-eccentric and viable suspects. Now, this baking detective must uncover the inspiration behind Sally’s murder before another creative genius is iced.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eRECIPES INCLUDED\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eThe Silence of the Flans\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “A unique premise any foodie with an insatiable sweet tooth won’t be able to put down.”—A Cozy Girl Reads \u0026amp; Writes\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eÉclair and Present Danger\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Laura Bradford has done it again. \u003ci\u003eÉclair and Present Danger\u003c\/i\u003e is filled with interesting, realistic characters and a plot that will keep you turning pages all the way to the sweet reveal at the end. This scrumptious new series is not to be missed.”—Paige Shelton, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “A tasty, twisty tale full of felonies and flavor! Laura Bradford cooks up a delightful cast of characters led by clever amateur sleuth and dessert rescuer Winnie Johnson. The plot is delicious and moves at a swift pace, keeping the reader guessing while frantically turning the pages as Winnie tries to solve the murder of an old friend and make sure that his killer gets his just desserts.”—Jenn McKinlay, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “[A] charming cozy mystery that will have you laughing (and marveling) at the dessert names Winnie comes up with…[A] delightful story that will keep you turning pages to see what happens next. Several unusual turns and twists in the plot make an exciting storyline to follow.”—Fresh Fiction\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “The wonderful whodunit is a must-read that will not allow you to put it down. I wish I could give it more than 5 stars.”—Open Book SocietyAs a child, \u003cb\u003eLaura Bradford \u003c\/b\u003efell in love with writing over a stack of blank paper, a box of crayons, and a freshly sharpened number two pencil. From that moment forward, she never wanted to do or be anything else. Today, Laura is the author of the Emergency Dessert Squad Mysteries, including \u003ci\u003eThe Silence of the Flans\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eÉclair and Present Danger\u003c\/i\u003e, and the national bestselling Amish Mysteries, including \u003ci\u003eA Churn for the Worse\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eSuspendered Sentence\u003c\/i\u003e. She lives in Yorktown Heights, New York, with her husband and their blended brood.Chapter 1\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Winnie Johnson knew it wasn't polite to stare. She'd been taught      that little life lesson when she was no more than three. But when      you made your living baking, and your latest creation earned an      elevated lip-nostril combination from one of your closest friends,      it was hard to look away. \"I try to tell myself it will get      better-that the next go-round will surely be better than the one      before, but it never happens. And I'm not the only one who feels      this way, dear. Parker does, as well.\" Bridget O'Keefe set her      plate on the wicker table beside her favorite rocking chair and      raised her eyes to the porch ceiling. \"Maybe it really is time to      start thinking about heading south to that fancy-schmancy      retirement community Louise Rickter moved to last year. I talked      to her on the phone just the other day and she's convinced the      warmer weather would do far more for my aching joints than any of      my overpriced doctors do.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Winnie sucked in her breath so hard and so fast, Lovey lifted her      head from her slumber atop Bridget's lap and hissed. \"How long      have you been feeling this way? And why on earth didn't you tell      me sooner?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I don't want to burden you with my ever-growing list of health      problems, dear.\" Rocking forward on her chair, the eighty-year-old      thrust her elbow across the gap between their chairs. \"Did I tell      you that I may have ankylosing spondylitis? My elbow was      absolutely throbbing throughout the night.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'm pretty sure ankylosing spondylitis has something to do with      the spine, not the elbow.\" Winnie rose to her feet and made a      beeline for the table and the barely touched strawberry shortcake      she would have laid odds on in the edible-home-run department.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A bit too much vanilla, perhaps?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Maybe a smidge less sugar?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Bridget returned her hand to the brown and white tabby's head and      slumped her broad shoulders against the back of the chair. \"My      spine has been a bit creaky lately. . .\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Grabbing hold of the plate, Winnie hoisted it up to eye level.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Consistency is good . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Color is spot-on . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The creak of the screen door on the other side of the porch      registered in Winnie's head a split second before her best      friend's giggle and the subsequent moan of appreciation from      Winnie's downstairs neighbor.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Winnie? Did you know Mr. Nelson has had a crush on me since the      moment he first laid eyes on me behind the counter at Delectable      Delights?\" Renee Ballentine asked over the click of her stilettos      against the wooden floor.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A host of replies covering a wide range of sarcasm danced across      Winnie's tongue, but in light of the more pressing matters on her      plate (both figuratively and literally) she settled on an answer      that required the least amount of syllables.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Um, duh . . .\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The clicking built to a crescendo before ceasing completely beside      Winnie. \"Are you going to keep staring at that strawberry      shortcake or are you going to let me give it a try?\" Renee asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Slowly, Winnie lowered the plate back to the table in favor of a      thorough once-over of the ample-figured woman who was      single-handedly responsible for Mr. Nelson's growing clip-on bow      tie collection. Bypassing the cleavage view no doubt being enjoyed      by her housemate, Winnie focused, instead, on the emerald green      eyes twinkling back at her without a care in the world.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Man, you're good,\" she mumbled before crossing her arms in front      of her own (and far less endowed) chest. \"So how long, exactly,      have you been lying to me, too, Renee?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Renee ran her red-tipped fingers through her pixie-style haircut      and then shook any disheveled strands of white-blond hair back      into place with a flick of her head (and a hard swallow from Mr.      Nelson). \"Did someone forget to eat her pound of sugar today?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Bracing her hands atop her hips, Winnie widened what she hoped was      an accusatory look to include a bow tie-wearing Mr. Nelson and      their ailment-infested next-door neighbor, Bridget. \"Did any of      you ever think, for even a second, that maybe, just maybe the      reason Delectable Delights failed was because you pretended you      liked my desserts? And maybe, if you'd told me this, I could have      used Gertie's ambulance for something entirely different like . .      .\" She cast about for something, anything, to drive home her      point, settling finally on the feline gearing up to hiss at her      for what had to be the millionth time in little more than four      months. \"Like an emergency dog spa!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e In a flash, Bridget's hands were over Lovey's ears and Mr. Nelson      was caning his way over to the table, his attention no longer on      Renee. \"What's going on, Winnie Girl?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"This!\" Again, she lifted Bridget's plate off the table, only this      time, instead of inspecting it for clues, she brandished it      between them. \"How many times have you guys gushed over my latest      creations, telling me they're the best thing ever?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Sticking his finger in his ear, Mr. Nelson played with the volume      on his hearing aid and then made a face at Renee. \"The volume      appears to be on . . .\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It better be.\" Winnie flopped onto the chair in front of Mr.      Nelson's chessboard. \"Was anything ever good? My Don't-Be-Blue      Berry Pie? My Worry No s'More Bar? My One Smart Cookie? My Hot      Flash Fudge Sundae?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She stopped, closed her eyes briefly, and then jerked upright on      the chair, snapping her fingers at Renee. \"I saw your eyes roll      back in your head when you tried that Dump (Him) Cake you helped      dream up! You were in heaven! There's no way you could fake that.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Technically, I could,\" Renee mused as she clicked her way over to      the porch railing. \"But considering I lamented the effects of that      cake on the scale the next morning, you know I didn't.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"And you!\"-Winnie shifted her next snap to indicate a clearly      baffled Mr. Nelson-\"I've caught you eating your way through what      was supposed to be a customer's pie more times than I can count!      No one made you do that.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Bridget took a moment to address a wide-eyed Lovey. \"This is why      sleep is so important, little one. People who stay up all night,      trying out recipes instead of sleeping, risk going mad. I've seen      it before. With Hildegard Reeves. She lived on the other side of      Silver Lake and routinely gave up sleep to crochet. Needless to      say, dear old Hilde spent the last few years of her life under      heavy sedation in the loony bin ward of Silver Lake General.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Look at her!\"-Renee pointed at Lovey-\"It actually looks like      she's nodding along with what Bridget is saying, doesn't it?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Wit Woes.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Winnie turned a wary eye on Mr. Nelson, his mouth full with      Bridget's cast-off strawberry shortcake. \"Wit woes?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He swallowed. \"It does-look like she's nodding, that is.\" He      lifted the remaining shortcake to his thinning lips and winked at      Winnie. \"This is goo-ood, Winnie Girl.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Thirty minutes ago, I'd have believed you, Mr. Nelson. But now,      not so much.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He stopped chewing and stared at her. \"I may be a prankster,      Winnie Girl, but I ain't no liar. Never have been, never will be.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"But Bridget said you two are always hoping my desserts get      better, but they don't.\" There was no denying the hurt in her      voice or the way Mr. Nelson nearly choked on whatever amount of      shortcake still remained in his mouth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I said no such thing!\" Bridget protested.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yes, you did! You said it as you were rejecting the very same      strawberry shortcake Mr. Nelson is eating right now!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Bridget's eyebrows dipped downward in confusion only to return to      their normal resting place in short order. \"I wasn't talking about      your desserts, dear. I was talking about the summer folks. They      seem to have multiplied in number and annoyingness this year.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Wiping the back of his weathered hand across his mouth, Mr. Nelson      brushed away all lingering remnants of his shortcake. \"I couldn't      agree more.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"So you haven't been humoring me about my baking these last two      years?\" Winnie asked as her gaze darted between Mr. Nelson and      Bridget before landing on her slack-jawed employee-turned-friend.      \"What? It was an honest mistake . . .\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Renee crossed to Bridget's rocker, lifted Lovey from the elderly      woman's lap, and then turned the animal so they were eye to eye.      \"I know Winnie isn't your favorite person in the world, but I      think it's best if we operate on the assumption that this most      recent break in her sanity is a result of Jay being out of town.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Rendezvousing with his famous ex-wife, no less,\" Bridget added.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"The famous ex-wife his daughter requested to see . . .\" Mr.      Nelson's hand came down on Winnie's shoulder and squeezed ever so      gently. \"Jay Morgan knows what he has in you, Winnie Girl. I'm as      certain of that as I am that your strawberry shortcake just now      was the best strawberry shortcake I think I've ever eaten.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Blinking against the sudden and equally unwelcome mist in her      eyes, Winnie smiled up at him. \"Thanks, Mr. Nelson. On both      counts. And I'm sorry I accused you of lying about my desserts. I      guess I jumped to conclusions.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Nothing you can't fix with another one of them shortcakes.\" Mr.      Nelson removed his hand from her shoulder and lowered himself onto      the rocking chair next to Bridget's. \"So what did I miss about the      summer folks?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Bridget stopped rocking and, in a move belying her age and her      oft-reported ailing health, jumped to her feet. \"They're back.      Isn't that enough?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Mr. Nelson nodded.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Last night, after I picked Ty up at Bob's, we stopped at that ice      cream stand out by the lake.\" Renee tucked Lovey into the crook of      her arm and leaned back against the porch railing. \"One of them      was out there, too. Just sitting on the shoreline skipping rocks.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"One of them?\" Winnie echoed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"The summer people. Only this one was super good-looking.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Hope pulled Winnie forward in her chair. \"Did you talk to him?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The single mom who turned more heads than the promise of free      candy, shrugged. \"Ty was curious about what this guy was doing.      So, he wandered over to the shoreline with a few rocks of his own      and tried to make them skip, too. Mystery Hunk watched him a few      times and then showed him how to do it right.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"That sounds promising. . .\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"If he'd actually said something, maybe. But he didn't.\" Renee      exhaled dramatically, the sudden rush of air making Lovey's ear      flick in response. \"Ty, of course, didn't care. He learned how to      skip a rock. But when everything I said to the guy-from Wow,      you're good at that, to Thanks for making my son smile-was met      with a single nod of his head or a quick hand to his chest, I have      to assume he wasn't interested.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Did he have eyes?\" Mr. Nelson asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yup. Two. And they were a real pretty charcoal color.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Mr. Nelson surveyed the now-empty plate in front of him and      shrugged. \"Musta been a blind, charcoal-eyed mute. Only thing that      makes sense about that story.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Winnie, have I told you how much I love this man?\" Renee gushed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Before Winnie could respond, or offer Mr. Nelson a cool drink of      water to counteract his sudden panting, she heard her kitchen      phone ring once through the open upstairs windows. Less than a      second later, the sound morphed into a vibration inside her back      pocket, and she reached for the device. A quick check of the      screen revealed an unknown number.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Hello?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A brief hesitation gave way to a female voice. \"Oh, I'm sorry, I      was trying to reach the Emergency Dessert Squad. I must have      misdialed-\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Winnie sat up tall. \"No. You didn't misdial. This is the Emergency      Dessert Squad. How can I help . . .\" Her words petered off as the      object of Mr. Nelson's affection set Lovey down on the porch and      clapped her hands.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You're saying it wrong,\" Renee whispered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Oh. Right.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Winnie cleared her throat and began again. \"You've reached the      Emergency Dessert Squad, please state your emergency.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"This is Sally Dearfield out at Silver Lake Artists' Retreat. I'd      like to place five separate orders to be delivered to our current      residents around noon on Monday.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"We can do that.\" She saw a pen-topped notebook sliding across the      table toward her free hand and mouthed a thank-you at Renee. \"Have      you had a chance to look at our list of rescue desserts?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I have, but it mentions on your website that you can also      customize to the customer. Is that true?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Winnie opened the notebook to the first blank page and readied the      pen. \"Of course. I'll just need a little information about each      customer, as well as specifics on their ailment or problem. If you      know a little bit about their taste in flavors, that's always      helpful. Oh, and I'll need to know if there are any allergies I      should work around.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"No allergies. As for the recipients, there is a poet, a magician,      a mime, a comedian, and a puppeteer.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"And each of their issues?\" she asked, even as the creative side      of her brain began to mull over a slew of possible flavor      combinations and the forms each could take. \"I mean, the reason      they need to be rescued?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"The potential end to their careers, for starters.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Winnie stopped writing. \"So you want these to be motivational in      nature?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'm hoping the prospect of being penniless and publicly mortified      is all the motivation they really need. But a clever little rescue      dessert for their respective craft certainly can't hurt.      Especially if it's timed just right.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Chapter 2\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Leaning back against the center island, Winnie took in the faces      assembled around her kitchen table. Bridget, who'd claimed the      head chair, was detailing, to no one in particular, the reason      behind her most recent wince. Lovey was half licking, half      watching from her nearby windowsill hammock. Mr. Nelson kept      shifting in his seat in the hopes of securing the best view of      Renee. And Renee, in turn, was sending a not-so-occasional glance      in the direction of the dark-haired thirty-eight-year-old seated      at the far end of the table, seemingly oblivious to all but the      last piece of apple pie on his plate.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I tell you, Winnie, you should have a show on television.\" Greg      Stevens forked up the pie's remains and lifted it to his lips,      stopping just shy of inhaling it the way he had every other bite      to that point. \"There's no way the stuff on that dessert channel      is as good as your stuff. No way, no how.\"","brand":"Berkley","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46305502298341,"sku":"NP9780425281253","price":7.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780425281253.jpg?v=1767725072","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/dial-m-for-mousse-isbn-9780425281253","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}