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Zusatztext Praise for the New York Times bestselling Cackleberry Club Mysteries “Tasty and fun.”— Minneapolis Star Tribune “With a plot that holds interest and characters who are well-envisioned and well-executed! Childs will have readers planning another trip to the Cackleberry Club and its treats.”— Richmond Times-Dispatch “Childs excels at creating comforting settings in which to put her characters! and the Cackleberry Club is a place you’d like to visit.”— St. Paul Pioneer Press “Along with toothsome recipes! Childs dishes up plenty of small-town charm.”— Publishers Weekly Informationen zum Autor Laura Childs is the New York Times bestselling author of the Tea Shop Mysteries! the Scrapbooking Mysteries! and the Cackleberry Club Mysteries. In her previous life she was CEO of her own marketing firm! authored several screenplays! and produced a reality TV show. She is married to Dr. Bob! a professor of Chinese art history! enjoys travel! and has two Shar-Peis. Chapter 1 It was an autumn of particular intensity. Of riotous colors and delft blue skies, cool nights and smoke curling out of chimneys. Halloween was barely a week away and Suzanne Dietz was feeling mighty pleased with herself as she glanced at the puddle of black silk lying on the car seat next to her. She'd just picked up the wicked witch costume that her neighbor Laurel Kennedy had sewn for her. The woman was a creative genius when it came to three yards of fabric, six yards of black scalloped lace, and a Singer sewing machine. Suzanne, on the other hand, managed to impale her finger every time she picked up a needle to sew on a button or whipstitch a hem. Which is why she was congratulating herself for outsourcing such an odious task and looking forward to her role as a well-stitched witch at the Cackleberry Club's upcoming Halloween celebration. Changing lanes, Suzanne caught her own reflection in the rearview mirror and thought, Correction, make that a modern-day witch . Just a hair past forty, Suzanne was lean, square shouldered, and still golden brown from puttering around her herb garden in the summer sun. Her hair was a shoulder-length silvered blond, her eyes a deep cornflower blue. Today she wore a white blouse, nipped tightly at her waist by a silver concho belt, and a pair of slim-fitting jeans. She had on her favorite cowboy boots, the well-worn brown ones with turquoise leather steer heads inset at the ankles. Suzanne was the self-appointed purveyor of foods and the driving force behind the Cackleberry Club, a cozy little farm-to-table cafe she ran with her two BFFs, Toni and Petra. She was also recently engaged to Dr. Sam Hazelet, who had to be the most handsome and skilled doctor in the small Midwestern town of Kindred. Suzanne smiled to herself as she drove along, the noon sun lasering down upon the windshield of her Taurus. Sam was quite a catch, she mused. Four years younger than she was, great sense of humor, and, most important, in love with her. (Okay, truth be told, he might even be a little besotted with her.) If she hadn't hit the boyfriend jackpot, she probably would have (horrors!) been forced to venture onto one of those Internet dating sites. Then her character sketch might have read something like, Overworked café owner, dog mom, and curiosity seeker hopes to meet fun-loving guy for wine dinners, occasional trout fishing, and long-term mischief. And after a few sketchy responses, someone like Sam would have popped up. Or not. Suzanne drank in the scenery as the blacktopped country road dipped down and the woods closed in on either side of her. Late October meant the oaks and maples had erupted in a riot of crimson and orange, and every time a puff of wind came along, leaves fluttered down in perfect golden swirls. It made her t...