Pecan Pie Predicament

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Pecan Pie Predicament Page 20

by Addison Moore


  It couldn’t get much worse than this, could it?

  And just like that, I feel a sharp jab deep in my belly.

  I suck in a quick breath and grip my stomach.

  “The baby just kicked!”

  Both Noah and Everett crowd into the backseat with me and place their hands over my stomach in hopes to feel just about anything.

  My mother’s words come back to me, and if she’s right, the universe just gave me one heck of a hint regarding my baby’s future.

  How does that saying go? The future’s so bright, I gotta wear government-issued silver bracelets?

  No. I’m pretty sure that’s not it.

  I contemplate my potentially cursed future and the questionable future of my unborn child all the way down to the Ashford County Sheriff’s Department.

  And I wonder exactly what it will bring.

  Let’s hope there’s not a felony offense on the horizon.

  But with that Hearst curse and my own wayward brand of luck, things aren’t looking so good for either of us.

  *Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed Lottie’s latests adventure. You will not want to miss the next book in the series! Click HERE—> Eggnog Trifle Trouble (Murder in the Mix 28) to pick it up today!

  My name is Lottie Lemon, and I see dead people. Okay, so I rarely see dead people, mostly I see furry creatures of the dearly departed variety who have come back from the other side to warn me of their previous owner’s impending doom.

  It’s Christmastime in Honey Hollow. The snow is falling and it’s beginning to look a lot like murder.

  PICK IT UP TODAY! You will not want to miss it! Click HERE—> Eggnog Trifle Trouble (Murder in the Mix 28) to pick it up today!

  Be sure to grab it NOW!

  Recipe

  From the Kitchen of the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery

  Lottie’s Pecan Pie

  Hello, friend! Autumn is moving right along, and pies are ready to take center stage at just about every food-related gathering this season has to offer. Of course, I like to offer a variety of desserts this time of year, but my pecan pie is a staple that pops up at every event from September to December. In fact, I’ve been known to make a pecan pie all year round. I’ve never needed a holiday as an excuse to enjoy this one. Everett especially likes it when the pecans get nice and toasty on top. And both Noah and Everett like to smother their slices in heavy whipped cream. However you enjoy it, happy baking!

  Ingredients

  Pie Crust:

  1 ¼ cups all-purpose flour

  ¼ teaspoon salt

  ½ cup chilled butter (cubed)

  ¼ cup ice water

  Directions *This dough should be refrigerated overnight for best results, but in a pinch a four-hour stint in the freezer should suffice!

  Just prior to using the dough, preheat oven to 375°.

  In a large mixing bowl combine flour and salt, then cut in butter until mixture is crumbly. Add ice water a bit at a time until dough forms a firm ball. Wrap in plastic or place in covered bowl and refrigerate overnight (or four hours if you’re in a pinch).

  Roll out dough in a circle to about 1/8 of an inch to fit a 9 inch pie pan.

  At this point you’re going to want to blind bake your pie crust so that the bottom of your pie isn’t soggy or undercooked when your pie is ready to eat. This process is super simple.

  Place your dough into the pie pan and press your edges in a decorative manner. I like to crimp the dough around the periphery so that it has a nice scalloped edge.

  Take a fork and poke holes into the bottom and sides of the dough to prevent bubbling.

  Place the pie pan into the freezer for 10-15 minutes to get the butter to firm up once again and keep the dough from losing its shape in the oven.

  Place a layer of parchment paper over the bottom of your pie and extending up over the sides. Fill the center of the pie with dry beans or rice.

  Bake shell for 15 minutes. Carefully remove the parchment and the beans or rice. Place back in the oven for 10 minutes.

  Ingredients

  Pie filling:

  ¼ cup dark corn syrup

  ¾ cups light corn syrup

  2 tablespoons white sugar

  ¼ cup butter

  1 tablespoon cold water

  3 teaspoons cornstarch

  3 large eggs

  ¼ teaspoon cinnamon

  ¼ teaspoon salt

  1 teaspoon vanilla extract

  1 ¼ cups chopped pecans

  1 ½ cup pecans (can be whole or halved to line the top of the pie)

  Directions

  Preheat oven to 350°.

  In a large mixing bowl blend sugar, corn syrup, butter, water, and cornstarch.

  In a medium bowl, whisk eggs until fluffy and frothy. Slowly add eggs to the ingredients in the large mixing bowl, then add in cinnamon, salt, vanilla and chopped pecans.

  Pour into the pie shell that was blind-baked. Arrange the whole or half pecans over the top of the pie starting in the center and fanning your way out to the edges of the pie crust.

  Bake for 45- 50 minutes or until center of filling is set. ***However, about the 20 minute mark, check to see if the edges of the pie crust or the pecans are browning a bit too quickly. If so, feel free to lay a loose sheet of aluminum foil on top!

  Happy holidays! Enjoy!

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  Cozy Mysteries

  Meow for Murder

  An Awful Cat-titude

  A Dreadful Meow-ment

  A Claw-some Affair

  A Haunted Hallow-whiskers

  A Candy Cane Cat-astrophe

  A Purr-fect Storm

  Country Cottage Mysteries

  Kittyzen’s Arrest

  Dog Days of Murder

  Santa Claws Calamity

  Bow Wow Big House

  Murder Bites

  Felines and Fatalities

  A Killer Tail

  Cat Scratch Cleaver

  Just Buried

  Butchered After Bark

  A Frightening Fangs-giving

  A Christmas to Dismember

  Sealed with a Hiss

  Country Cottage Boxed Set 1

  Country Cottage Boxed Set 2

  Murder in the Mix Mysteries

  Cutie Pies and Deadly Lies

  Bobbing for Bodies

  Pumpkin Spice Sacrifice

  Gingerbread & Deadly Dread

  Seven-Layer Slayer

  Red Velvet Vengeance

  Bloodbaths and Banana Cake

  New York Cheesecake Chaos

  Lethal Lemon Bars

  Macaron Massacre

  Wedding Cake Carnage

  Donut Disaster

  Toxic Apple Turnovers

  Killer Cupcakes

  Pumpkin Pie Parting

  Yule Log Eulogy

  Pancake Panic

  Sugar Cookie Slaughter

  Devil’s Food Cake Doom

  Snickerdoodle Secrets

  Strawberry Shortcake Sins

  Cake Pop Casualties

  Flag Cake Felonies

  Peach Cobbler Confessions

  Poison Apple Crisp

  Spooky Spice Cake Curse

  Pecan Pie Predicament

  Eggnog Trifle Trouble

  Waffles at the Wake

  Christmas Fudge Fatality

  Murder in the Mix Boxed Set (Books 1-3)

  Murder in the Mix Boxed Set (Books 4-6)

  Murder in the Mix Boxed Set (Books 7-9)


  Murder in the Mix Boxed Set (Books 10-12)

  Murder in the Mix Boxed Set (Books 13-15)

  Murder in the Mix Boxed Set (Books 16-18)

  Murder in the Mix Boxed Set (Books 19-21)

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  The Social Experiment (The Social Experiment 1)

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  Chemical Attraction (The Social Experiment 3)

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  Beautiful Elixir (Lake Loveless 3)

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  Burn (Celestra Series Book 3)

  Wicked (Celestra Series Book 4)

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  Toxic Part One (Celestra Series Book 7)

  Toxic Part Two (Celestra Series Book 8)

  Elysian (Celestra Series Book 9)

  Perfect Love (A Celestra Novella)

  Ephemeral (Ephemeral Academy 1)

  Evanescent (Ephemeral Academy 2)

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  Celestra Forever After (Celestra Forever After 1)

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  Throne of Fire (Celestra Forever After 5)

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  Roar of the Lion (Celestra Forever After 7) Soon

  Acknowledgments

  Big thanks to YOU the reader! I hope you had a wonderful time. I can’t thank you enough for spending time in Honey Hollow with me. I hope you enjoyed this bumpy ride with Lottie and all of her Honey Hollow peeps as much as I did. The MURDER IN THE MIX mysteries are super special to me, and I hope they are to you as well. If you’d like to be in the know on upcoming releases, please be sure to follow me at Bookbub and Amazon. Simply click the links on the next page. I am SUPER excited to share the next book with you! So much happens and so much changes. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking this wild roller coaster ride with me. I really do love you!

  A very big thank you to Kaila Eileen Turingan-Ramos, and Jodie Tarleton for being awesome.

  A special thank you to my sweet betas, Lisa Markson, Ashley Marie Daniels, and Margaret Lapointe for looking after the book with their amazing beautiful eyes. And a shout out to Lou Harper for designing the world’s most beautiful cover.

  A mighty BIG thank you to Paige Maroney Smith for being so amazing.

  And last, but never least, thank you to Him who sits on the throne. Worthy is the Lamb! Glory and honor and power are yours. I owe you everything.

  New Series Preview!

  ***Love Janet Evanovich? You’ll have a blast with Meow for Murder. Enjoy the sneak peek!

  Pick it up NOW! —> An Awful Cat-titude

  A highly inaccurate psychic. A grumpy writer. And a corpse. Welcome to Starry Falls. Running from the mob can be murder.

  Confession. I’m no psychic. But I can sort of see the future—albeit not accurately. And you better believe, I’ve never let that little detail stop me from prognosticating my way into a pickle. So when I ticked off the mob, the feds, and my wily ex, I decided to take my Uncle Vinny’s advice and start over with a new name and new hair color while relying on my old shtick—getting my psychic wires crossed and putting myself in danger.

  Chapter 1

  “I don’t want to die!” The words rip from my throat as if they were being pulled out with barbed wire.

  My name is Stella Santini. I’ve got long black hair, light brown eyes, stand at an average height of five-foot-five, and I can see the future.

  Okay, fine.

  Confession: I’m no psychic. Nor have I ever come close to predicting what the future might hold—not with any accuracy anyway.

  You see, ever since I was a little girl, I had what my Nana Rose liked to call the shakes. Technically, it’s more of a shiver, and when you get down to it, there’s a warm, fuzzy feeling involved that makes me want to forget about the world around me for a moment and retreat to the dark recesses of my mind where a thought plays out like a movie and I see things.

  And trust me when I say, I have been wrong about interpreting the things I see on more than one occasion.

  Take now for instance. This morning when a scene from the West End Woods flashed through my mind and I saw myself running for my life—I thought maybe I might be running from a serial killer looking for his next victim on this odd jaunt through the woods or running from a bear looking for his first meal post-hibernation, thus the solemn decision I came to during my second cup of coffee to stay the heck away from the West End Woods for the duration of my supernatural life.

  But in a twist that only fate could provide, here I am, a mere hour later, panting, ducking evergreen trees and their prickly branches that threaten to poke my eyes out as if my life were on the line, and, oddly enough, I think it is.

  “Don’t kill me!” I howl once again, ducking and jiving my way through the forest as my Uncle Vinnie chases me through the woods with a bona fide weapon in his hand.

  “I’m not gonna kill you for God’s sake!” he riots right back.

  “Then why are you holding a gun?”

  Let’s backtrack for a minute. After I enjoyed my third cup of coffee this morning, Uncle Vinnie called and said I had fifteen minutes to get dressed because we had things to discuss and he was picking me up pronto.

  He sounded serious, morbid even. And I know him well enough to realize he meant business. I had an inkling about the subject he was going to prick. I happen to be what the mob likes to call a dead girl walking. Less than twenty-four hours ago, in what I and any sane person would call a very unfortunate chain of events, I managed to tick off the mob, the federal government, and break up with my idiot boyfriend of two years, Johnny Rizzo, all within a fifteen-minute span. And judging by this mad dash through the West End Woo
ds, you could toss my Uncle Vinnie on that ticked-off list, too.

  My foot catches on a buckling root system and I trip, slowing myself down enough for me to know I’ve just widened that bullseye on my back.

  “Don’t shoot!” I cry out, jogging to a finish as I spin around.

  Uncle Vinnie stops within feet of me, panting, the veins on his neck throbbing like a couple of angry garden snakes about to wiggle their way into his brain.

  Uncle Vinnie is tall, with black hair, dark eyes, and bushy eyebrows that hover over his face, giving him that perpetually angry look he’s got going for him in life. But, by and large, he’s a good guy who stepped up to the plate once my father was put away five years ago on RICO charges. He treated my brother, sister, and me as if we were his own children while my mother got a quickie divorce and began to chase men far younger straight into her bedroom.

  “Please,” I beg. “Put down the gun.”

  “What?” He squints over at me. “What the heck are you talking about? This ain’t no gun.” He shoves something toward me and I turn my head in horror.

  It’s not unusual for a man of my uncle’s standing within the organization to take care of his own once word gets out that their proverbial number is up. And by take care of, I mean bump off the planet in a far more humane method than the fate that awaits them otherwise. And that’s exactly why I suspect my Uncle Vinnie has dragged me out to this isolated strip of nature just outside of Hastings, New Jersey, the town in which I was born and raised.

 

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