. . . Murder Is Binding . . .

Stoneham, New Hampshire, was a dying town until community leaders invited booksellers to open shop. Now, its streets are lined with bookstores--and paved with murder…

When she moved to Stoneham, city-slicker Tricia Miles was met with friendly faces. And when she opened her mystery bookstore, she met with friendly competition. But when she finds Doris Gleason dead in her own cookbook store, killed by a carving knife, the atmosphere seems more cutthroat than cordial. Someone wanted to get their hands on the rare cookbook that Doris had recently purchased--and the locals think that someone is Tricia. To clear her name, Tricia will have to take a page out of one of her own mysteries--and hunt down someone who isn’t killing by the book…
 

"Move over Cabot Cove. Lorna Barrett's new cozy creation, MURDER IS BINDING, has it all: wonderful old books, quirky characters, a clever mystery, and a cat named Miss Marple!"
--Roberta Isleib, author of PREACHING TO THE CORPSE and the Advice Column Mysteries

 "A mystery bookstore in a sleepy New England town, a cat named Miss Marple, a nasty murder and a determined heroine make Barrett's delightful debut mystery everything a cozy lover could want and more. Bravo!"
--Leann Sweeney, author of the Yellow Rose Mystery Series

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Miss Marple says:  "Read an excerpt!"

A Form In The Fire...

“Do you smell something burning?” Angelica asked.

“No.”  The truth was, after being sealed in the car with Angie’s perfume, Tricia wondered if she’d ever be able to smell anything else again.

“Something’s definitely burning . . . or maybe smoldering,” Angelica insisted. Shading her eyes, she turned her head from right to left and sniffed loudly, her nose wrinkling. Tricia watched as her sister moved a few steps toward the Cookery. “Trish, I think it’s coming from the mail slot next door.”

“Dial 911,” Tricia ordered, shoving her cell phone into her sister’s hands.  

She grasped the Cookery’s door handle, shocked when it yielded to her touch. The smoke was thick, but with no sign of flames, Tricia took a deep breath and plunged inside. “Doris?” she called and coughed. “Doris, are you in here?”

Grateful for the security lighting, Tricia searched behind the sales counter. No sign of Doris. But a glance to her right showed that the little Lucite case that less than an hour before had housed Doris’s treasured cookbook was no longer perched on the top of the shelf. Tricia stumbled over something and fell to her knees. The air was definitely better down here. Righting herself, Tricia pivoted to see what had tripped her. She gasped as she focused on the still form half protruding from behind the horseshoe-shaped kitchen island, a knife jutting from its back...