TABLE OF CONTENTS
BOSTON CREAM KILLER
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Boston
Cream
Killer
Book Eight in the
INNcredibly Sweet Series
By
Summer Prescott
Copyright 2016 Summer Prescott Books
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying, or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder
**This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS:
This book has taken me through the wringer and back again. Writing it was painful at times, and the relief that I felt when it was done was cathartic. There is drama, pain, and of course, lots of love.
The fun part of course, was that I had the opportunity to include input from Facebook contest winners. The idea for the title and featured cupcake in the book came from JoAnn Sheffield, so a great big thank you to JoAnn! The cupcake idea made me hungry, and I hope it will do the same for you. I’ve also added a new character to the mix, thanks to the creativity of Lauren Dottin Radel. Thank you so much, Lauren, for inspiring me to create Joyce Rutledge, a spunky, sassy gal whom you meet in this book, and from whom you’ll hear more in the future. Both of you, Lauren and JoAnn, have been so supportive of me as I make this crazy journey into the wild world of cozies, and I can’t thank you enough!
I want to give a great big shout-out to my very own Radar O’Reilly, my awesome assistant and right arm, Gretchen Allen. You make my life organized and productive, which is no mean feat, and I don’t know what I’d do without you. Your ideas, creativity, and go-getter attitude spur me on, even when things get rough, a simple thanks doesn’t even begin to cover it—you’re the best!!!
Kym Durham, I don’t know what I’d do without your pep talks and armchair therapy, lol. You’ve taken me under your wing, and I’m so thankful.
Helen Julson, you are truly a gem with a heart of gold, and your contribution to the SPBP team is immeasurable.
Megan Maxwell, it’s not just what you do, but who you are that makes you awesome. You never fail to crack me up, and your constructive criticism moves mountains (it’s okay, she’s my editor, she’s allowed to criticize, lol).
And finally, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention my ever-patient and always understanding Muse, who’s by my side in the best of times and the worst of times. Your love and support give me the strength and courage to do things that I never believed were possible.
Thank you to my family, readers, supporters and cozy fans… my life is blessed by all of you.
Author’s note: I’d love to hear your thoughts on my books, the storylines, and anything else that you’d like to comment on—reader feedback is very important to me. My contact information, along with some other helpful links, is listed below. If you’d like to be on my list of “folks to contact” with updates, release and sales notifications, etc.… just shoot me an email and let me know. Thanks for reading!
Also…
… if you’re looking for more great reads, I am proud to announce that Summer Prescott Books publishes a popular series by new cozy author Patti Benning. Check out my book catalog http://summerprescottbooks.com/book-catalog/ for her delicious stories.
Contact Info for Summer Prescott:
Twitter: @summerprescott1
Blog and Book Catalog: http://summerprescottbooks.com
Email: [email protected]
Please note: If you receive any correspondence from addresses other than those listed here, it is not from me, even if it claims to be.
And… look me up on Facebook—let’s be friends!
If you’re an author and are interested in publishing with Summer Prescott Books, please send me an email and I’ll send you submission guidelines.
Boston Cream Killer
BOOK EIGHT IN THE INNCREDIBLY SWEET SERIES
CHAPTER ONE
“I think I have enough potato salad left over in the fridge to feed a small army,” Melissa Gladstone-Beckett murmured sleepily, to no one in particular.
The petite blonde, who owned a beachside bed and breakfast and adjacent cupcake shop with her dashing husband Detective Chas Beckett, was stretched out by the pool, her vanilla-colored straw sunhat covering her face. The couple had just hosted a community beach party for the Fourth of July, and the turnout had been spectacular. The mayor, most of the police force, and several prominent community leaders had been on hand, serving up grilled hotdogs, hamburgers, and barbequed ribs with all the fixings.
Missy and Chas had sponsored the event as a way of giving back to the community that they’d moved to several months ago from Missy’s home state of Louisiana, where they’d met. Now, the couple planned to rest and relax until it was time to attend the parade, carnival, and ice cream social in the town square later that evening.
“Hard to imagine that there’s any left at all, after the plates of it that I ate,” Chas replied, eyes closed, basking in the sun.
Missy took the hat from her face, plopping it atop her head and sitting up in her pool lounger. “I’d be lying if I said that I’m not disappointed that we can’t have fireworks,” she sighed, remembering the glittering beauty of fireworks lighting up the Louisiana sky back home.
“I work in law enforcement, sweetie, it would be rather bad form for me to shoot off fireworks when they’re illegal in this state.” One corner of the detective’s finely sculpted mouth quirked up in amusement, his eyes still closed.
“Wish I had known that before we moved,” Missy muttered, cranky from an overabundance of socializing and a bit too much sun.
Chas opened his eyes.
“You okay?” he asked, turning his head toward his typically sunshiny mate. “You seem a bit out of sorts.”
“I am,” she admitted, making a face.
“What’s up?” Chas asked, resting a hand on her tanned knee, and rubbing it absently with his thumb.
“Nothing really, I guess I just miss having time alone with you. We were surrounded by people all day today, and you just got back from your trip to New York not too long ago, and… as stupid as it sounds, I miss you…”
Her kitten-grey eyes filled inexplicably with tears, surprising even her, and Chas sat up, reaching for her hands and taking them in his.
“Hey… it’s okay, I’m right here,” he said softly, pulling her into his lap, her straw hat falling back onto her lounger. “
Have I been neglecting you?” the detective asked, brushing a curly lock of silky blonde hair back from her face.
“No, don’t be silly. You’re wonderful,” she swiped at her eyes. “I’m just being silly and sentimental.”
Seeing the real feelings behind her casual attitude, Chas tilted her chin up gently with two fingers and kissed her.
“Well, if it helps at all, I’m ready for some alone time with you, too. In fact, I’d much rather take you out on a date tonight than attend the festivities in the square,” he admitted, a mischievous gleam in his eye.
“Really?” Missy caught her lower lip between her teeth, touched at her husband’s sensitivity to her feelings. “But shouldn’t you be there… because you’re a detective? I mean, you would be representing your department, and…”
He placed a finger on her lips to shush her.
“There are plenty of guys who will be there representing the department and stuffing themselves with ice cream,” he chuckled. “We can stay here, take it easy for a bit, have a swim, and then go out on a date. How does that sound?”
“Like I married the most amazing man on the planet,” she grinned, relieved.
“Race you to the pool,” he challenged, tossing her onto the lounger and sprinting toward the edge.
“You cheated!” she called out after him, feeling better than she had in a while.
CHAPTER TWO
The small commercial kitchen at Cupcakes in Paradise, Missy’s cozy little cupcake shop, smelled heavenly, due in no small part to the latest batch of cupcakes that were sitting on cooling racks, waiting to be frosted. Missy had invented a new recipe after experiencing a new dessert at the Fourth of July beach party. She’d never even heard of Boston cream pie, which was actually a cake, before yesterday. The mouthwatering treat was a delightful yellow cake with creamy pudding between its layers and a thick, fudgy frosting on top. Missy had been immediately inspired and had vowed on the spot to make a Boston cream cupcake.
There were several trays of the cupcakes sitting on two different cooling racks. One cooling rack held traditional cakes, the other displayed the vegan equivalent. Missy’s best friend, free-spirited, flame-haired Echo Willis, who would be showing up at any moment, was vegan, so Missy always made an alternative recipe for her friend, and they proved to be quite popular among many of the visitors to her little shop.
“If I wasn’t starving before I got here, I certainly am now,” Echo announced, breezing into the kitchen and eyeing the trays of cupcakes. “Oooooh… are those the new Boston cream pies… cupcakes… whatever?” she asked, breathing in deeply and thoroughly enjoying the scent.
“Yes, they are, and you’re here just in time to help me frost some of them,” Missy hugged her friend.
“I’ll frost enough of them for me to eat,” Echo teased. “Which ones are vegan?”
“The ones on the left. And the carob frosting is in the red bowl. If you want to go get the coffee started, I’ll get everything ready to go.”
“We’re ahead of the game, I started the coffee before I came back here.”
Several mornings a week, Missy, Echo, and often Echo’s fiancé, Phillip “Kel” Kellerman, met for coffee before they all started their day. Kel had been born and raised in the beachside oasis of Calgon, Florida, where Missy and Echo were newcomers, so he felt that it was part of his civic duty to keep the two of them abreast of current events in their fair city. He seemed to have an uncanny knack for knowing everything about everyone in town, and regaled the ladies with tales of business deals, relationship woes, and other situations both sad and salacious faced by the residents of their town.
“You’re the best,” Missy blew her a kiss and handed her a spatula. “Is Kel gracing us with his presence this morning?”
“Nope, he’s working on a piece and found his groove, so he’s probably not leaving the studio today.”
Tall, fit, silver-haired, sixty-something Kel was a world-renowned, but locally based artist who poured his heart and soul into his work, sometimes travelling all over the globe to personally supervise installations of his pieces.
“For someone who is so laid back, I don’t have a clue how that man keeps up with everything that he does,” Missy remarked, shaking her head, impressed.
“Tell me about it,” Echo raised her eyebrows. “He’s almost twenty years older than we are, and he makes me tired just talking about his schedule, never mind keeping up with it.”
“There’s something to be said about men with that kind of stamina,” Missy teased, waiting for a reaction.
She got one. Echo blushed and turned away, snapping on a pair of gloves and reaching for a cupcake to frost.
“You seem to be more chipper this morning,” her friend changed the subject. “What’s got you so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed?”
“Chas and I had a date last night. It was just so nice to finally be alone with him and have his full attention. He gets pulled in so many directions that it makes me feel bad for him sometimes.”
“Well, if there’s anyone who can handle stressful situations and multiple tasks, it’s your hunk of a man,” Echo grinned.
“He is pretty wonderful,” Missy agreed. “Just frost the ones that you’re going to eat, and we’ll have some coffee and a snack before we finish up the rest,” she gestured at the cupcakes with a knife smeared in fudge.
“I’m all for that idea,” was the enthusiastic reply.
The two women sat down with their cupcakes and coffee at their favorite bistro table in the eating area of the little shop. Echo took the first bite and her eyes practically rolled back in her head.
“I don’t know about your version, but my cupcakes are amazing,” she declared, holding a hand in front of her mouth while she chewed.
Missy nodded, her own mouth full. “The pudding is so creamy, it’s insane, and the vanilla flavor, oh my…” she agreed. “I think that I could eat about forty of these.”
“Then you’ll have to bake more,” Echo joked.
“With pleasure. Hey, how are things coming with the bookstore?” Missy asked.
Echo owned two shops downtown, which she’d connected so that she’d be able to run both. The first was a handmade candle shop. She’d started out making candles that were scented like Missy’s cupcake flavors and selling them at the inn and cupcake shop. Her business quickly expanded via the internet, and in no time at all, she’d made enough money to open up the shop. When the sweet elderly owner of the bookstore next to the candle shop passed away, she willed her store to Echo, who had cut a huge archway between the two shops to allow access. Their mutual friend, Carla, who was a decorator, was helping her to remodel the interior.
“Oh, girl,” she gushed with pride. “It’s so adorable! We’ve done it in French Country style, with sage green walls and antiques and a black and white checkerboard floor. The crown moulding has gone up, we’ve created a kids section, and the rest of the furniture for the reading room should be in this week. I have three interviews scheduled today to find a manager,” Echo explained excitedly.
“Oh that’s so great, honey,” Missy reached over and squeezed her friend’s hand. “I’m so happy for you! Just let me know when the grand opening will be so that I can bake plenty of cupcakes.”
“I wouldn’t have a grand opening without you,” she beamed, impulsively leaning over to hug her best friend.
CHAPTER THREE
Joyce Rutledge dabbed at her forehead with a snowy white cloth hankie. Florida humidity in July was nothing to trifle with, and the curvy young woman felt the uncomfortably warm sting of the sun on her dark mocha skin, hoping that she wasn’t getting a sunburn. She glanced at her watch again and sighed, glancing up and down the street. She saw a striking woman with wild, curly red hair, and hoped that it was Echo Willis.
“Oh my gosh, are you Joyce? Am I late?” the woman said, approaching her.
Joyce chuckled. “Yes, ma’am, that’s me, and no, you’re not late. I always make it a point to ar
rive at a job interview a little bit early so that I can relax and check things out before I go in. I wasn’t counting on this heat though,” she admitted. “How did it become so oppressive so early in the morning?”
“I know what you mean. I feel limp already. I’m Echo Willis,” Echo stuck out her hand and Joyce shook it firmly and with a smile. “Let me find my keys…” she mumbled, digging in her oversized patchwork purse.
“I’m guessing that you’re looking to hire someone who’ll be able to open up the shop in the morning,” Joyce joked, watching the business owner paw through various items, searching for her keys.
“Oh, goodness yes! I’m definitely not a morning person. It takes me a pot of coffee and a couple of cupcakes to get going on most days,” she chuckled, finally finding the keys. “Aha! Here they are. Let’s get inside, where it’s nice and cool. I’m so sorry that I kept you waiting.”
“No worries,” the young woman replied, tucking her handkerchief into the small clutch that she carried, which perfectly complemented her lemon-yellow summer suit.
Her eyes went wide with that special kind of joy, experienced only by bibliophiles, when she stepped into the candle shop and gazed through the archway at the nearly completed bookstore.
“Ohhhh… I can tell already that this place is going to become my second home, whether I work here or not,” she nodded, clearly longing to check out the selection of books that graced the richly-finished wood shelving.
“It’s cozy, isn’t it?” Echo agreed enthusiastically, tossing her purse on the desk in the office that the two shops shared. “I’m not quite done with it yet, but it’ll be finished soon. Let me give you a tour,” she offered, snapping on the switch for the coffee pot on her way.
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