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Triple Chocolate Murder
Books 1, 2, & 3 Death by Chocolate series
Author: Sally Berneathy
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USA Today Bestselling Author
Books 1, 2, and 3 from bestselling series, Death by Chocolate
BOOK 1: DEATH BY CHOCOLATE
BOOK 2: MURDER, LIES, AND CHOCOLATE
BONUS! Chocolate recipes included. Poison optional.
BOOK 3: THE GREAT CHOCOLATE SCAM
Author Genre: Mystery, Suspense, Romance
Website: Sally Berneathy
Twitter: @sallyberneathy
E-Mail: sally@sallyberneathy.com
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Author Description:
I grew up in a small rural town in Oklahoma where our favorite entertainment on summer evenings was to sit outside under the stars and tell stories. When I went to bed at night, instead of a lullaby, I got a story. That could be due to the fact that everybody in my family has a singing voice like a bullfrog with laryngitis, but they sure could tell stories--ghost stories, funny stories, happy stories, scary stories.
For as long as I can remember I've been a storyteller. Thank goodness for computers so I can write down my stories. It's hard to make listeners sit still for the length of a book! Like my family's tales, my stories are funny, scary, dramatic, romantic, paranormal, magic.
Besides writing, my interests are reading, eating chocolate and riding my Harley.
Currently I have written four Death by Chocolate mysteries: Death by Chocolate; Murder, Lies and Chocolate; The Great Chocolate Scam; and Chocolate Mousse Attack as well as three Charley's Ghost mysteries: The Ex Who Wouldn't Die, The Ex Who Glowed in the Dark, and The Ex Who Conned a Psychic. More in each series will be released as soon as I can copy them from my brain to the computer!
I have sold fifteen romance novels ranging from comedy to dark suspense under the names Sally Carleen, Sally Steward and Sara Garrett. For these novels, I won several awards including National Readers' Choice, Romantic Times Best Silhouette Romance and two Rita finalist slots. Most of the Silhouettes are available as e-books, and I have e-pubbed six of the out-of-print single titles
Death by Chocolate
Author: Sally Berneathy
AVAILABLE at Amazon
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Lindsay Powell's only secret is the recipe for her chocolate chip cookies, but she is surrounded by neighbors with deadly secrets. Suddenly Lindsay finds herself battling poisoned chocolate, a dead man who doesn't seem very dead and a psycho stalker.
Her best friend and co-worker, Paula, dyes her blond hair brown, hides from everybody and insists on always having an emergency exit from any room. Secrets from Paula's past have come back to put lives in jeopardy.
Determined to help Paula and to save her own life, Lindsay enlists the reluctant aid of another neighbor, Fred, an OCD computer nerd. In spite of his mundane existence, Fred possesses tidbits of knowledge about such things as hidden microphones, guns and the inside of maximum security prisons.
Lindsay needs more than a chocolate fix to survive all this chaos.
Excerpt from DEATH BY CHOCOLATE
I opened the door to see two cops on the front porch—a Suit and a Uniform.
The Uniform looked like a nice guy...young, pleasant expression, a little apologetic as if he hated to interrupt somebody’s Sunday morning. In contrast, the Suit’s face was a study in sharp angles. He did have nice eyes. His were kind of hazel, like trees in the early spring when they’re ready to explode with leaves, and even though they’re still winter-brown, you can see a green shimmer.
The Suit flashed his badge. “Police,” he said, like I couldn’t recognize the uniforms—both of them.
“Chocolatier,” I said in reply. I couldn’t help myself. Blame it on the Coke and cookies. With all that sugar and caffeine, I was feeling ten feet tall and bullet proof.
The Uniform looked puzzled but one corner of the Suit’s mouth quirked upward as if he wanted to smile but knew he shouldn’t.
“Are you Paula Walters?” he asked.
“No.” I felt reluctant to volunteer any information, and not just because of my paranoia about traffic tickets. I could sense waves of fear emanating from Paula who remained on the sofa behind me. She was always a very careful driver, so careful I sometimes wanted to lean out the passenger door and push off with one foot to make her go faster. This wasn’t about a speeding ticket.
“Is Paula Walters here?” the Suit asked, exasperation evident in his voice. The angles of his face seemed to become even sharper than before.
“Yes,” I answered.
He waited.
So did I.
“Could we speak to her?” He was practically gritting his teeth. Now I was the one who had to suppress a smile. It’s not often I can frustrate a cop though I always make an effort.
Murder, Lies and Chocolate
Death by Chocolate Book 2
Author: Sally Berneathy
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Rodney Bradford comes into Lindsay's restaurant, eats her brownies, and drops dead on her sidewalk. Lindsay enlists the aid of her enigmatic neighbor, Fred, to help solve the mystery of his death while trying to keep her police detective boyfriend, Trent, from getting in their way with his insistence on all those silly cop rules.
On the positive side, sales skyrocket for the special dessert Lindsay calls Murdered Man's Brownies.
BONUS! Chocolate recipes included. Poison optional.
Excerpt from MURDER, LIES AND CHOCOLATE
Within a matter of minutes an ambulance and two squad cars arrived with lights and sirens blaring.
I stood behind the counter gripping Paula’s hand while the uniforms swarmed all over the sidewalk and into my restaurant. I wasn’t holding her hand just to be supportive. She still had a problem dealing with cops even though her ex, a cop who’d abused her and tried to kill both of us, was safely behind prison bars. Mostly I held onto her hand because I was afraid she would run away and hide, and that sort of action tends to look suspicious.
“You the lady who called 911?” a big burly cop asked me.
“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “Sir.”
“You said you killed this man?”
“No! Well, yes, I probably said that, but I didn’t mean I killed him.”
The cop pushed his hat back on his head and scowled at me. Do they teach them Scowling 101 in the Police Academy? They all seemed to do it so well, and that included Adam Trent, the homicide detective I was almost dating. “Then what did you mean?” he asked.
“I don’t know! I was upset! I just meant he died after eating dessert in my restaurant. I was worried he might have nut allergies. My cookies have nuts.”
“Brownies,” Paula interjected. “He had a brownie, not a cookie.”
Paula told me the next morning that we had made the ten o'clock news. They'd featured some great pictures of the cops being interviewed with my sign in full view, and the reporter had mentioned that the dead man's final act before collapsing on the sidewalk had been to eat dessert at "a local restaurant, Death by Chocolate. Appropriate name."
I considered the alternatives…prepare small quantities of everything and pretend all was normal or go with the flow. I chose the latter and made brownies with nuts, dark chocolate chips, semi-sweet chocolate chips and white chocolate chips then layered on thick chocolate frosting and called our special dessert of the day Killer Chocolate.
I made the right choice. We had a big crowd for breakfast and a huge crowd for lunch. Everyone wanted to know what dessert the murdered man had eaten. I finally drew a line through Killer Chocolate and wrote above it Murdered Man's Brownies. Okay, it was a little macabre, but we sold out. It's not my fault if people are strange. I don't judge. I just feed them chocolate.
The Great Chocolate Scam
Death by Chocolate Book 3
Author: Sally Berneathy
AVAILABLE at Amazon
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After two years of waiting, Rick has finally agreed to sign the divorce papers and give Lindsay her freedom. But while she’s waiting in her lawyer’s office for him to appear, his car blows up in his driveway. Lindsay is left with an image of her estranged husband’s green SUV flying around the neighborhood along with pieces of Rick—a blue contact lens in Mrs. Hawkins' driveway, a perfectly creased trouser leg hanging on the street sign, a vertebra on the immaculate lawn.
Since their divorce wasn't final and Rick has no family, Lindsay assumes she is his only heir. But before his estate is settled, poor orphan Rick has more relatives than a lottery winner.
Is the obnoxious Rickie Jr. really Rick's son? Why is the woman who claims to be Rick's mother so certain the child is not her grandson? Are these people really related to Rick, or was he actually an alien stranded on earth when the mother ship left without him?
Come for the Cookie Dough Cheesecake Bars, stay for the murder, mayhem and fun!
Excerpt from THE GREAT CHOCOLATE SCAM
Rick was dead.
A man I’d once loved and been married to was gone forever from this earth. I’d never again see those blue eyes enhanced by colored contacts, that arrogant smile, that carefully streaked blond hair.
A part of me was sad, but I have to admit that a tiny part of me was just a little bit relieved. Rick had driven me crazy with his cheating while we were married, then after we separated he’d switched to just driving me crazy in general. Even though the separation was his idea…out with the old (Lindsay), in with the new (Muffy)…as soon as he and Muffy broke up, he decided he wanted me back. I, on the other hand, decided that one burst of insanity—marrying him in the first place—was enough for one lifetime.
I drove to the police station, and Trent met me at the front desk. He was a welcome sight in his rumpled jacket and slacks. He has great eyes, brown with hints of green. The happier he is, the more green shows in his eyes. That day his eyes were brown like the bark on a tree in winter, and his expression was grim.
He came over to me, wrapped me in his arms and hugged me in front of God, the dispatcher and everybody. Since my divorce wasn’t final, we had never indulged in public displays of affection. This public hug made the new circumstances suddenly real. My divorce was final.
“I’m sorry, Lindsay,” Trent murmured in my ear.
As soon as he released me, his partner, Gerald Lawson took his place, embracing me gently. My nickname for Gerald is Granite Man. He’s tall and thin with structured gray hair and a face that never shows emotion. From the first time I met him, I’ve had a goal to break him down, to make him show some kind of emotion, maybe even toss caution to the wind and laugh without restraint. Seems I cracked the granite that day, but not the way I intended. When he pulled back, his expression was marked with sadness and sympathy.
I felt a little guilty, accepting all that compassion under false pretenses. Sure, I was upset that Rick was dead, but in a detached sort of way, the same way I’d feel upset over the death of a stranger. That’s what he had become. An annoying stranger.
The boys led me into an interrogation room with a scarred wooden table, uncomfortable wooden chairs and a one-way mirror. Suddenly I felt like a criminal rather than the object of sympathy. Surely they didn’t think…
“We’re sorry for your loss.” Lawson sat across from me.
“My loss?”
“Your deceased husband.”
“My ex husband,” I said.
“Your divorce wasn’t final.”
“I think it is now. I think this is about as final as it’s going to get.”
Lawson nodded and looked down at the papers lying on the table in front of him before once again lifting his steely gaze. “Where were you at three o’clock this afternoon?”
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