Cooked and Booked

COOKED AND BOOKED RAISED AND GLAZED COZY MYSTERIES, BOOK 32 EMMA AINSLEY SUMMER PRESCOTT BOOKS PUBLISHING Copyright 2023 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. CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Also by Emma Ainsley Author’s Note Contact Summer Prescott Books Publishing CHAPTER ONE “I don’t understand why I can’t have one of those myself.” Orson Hawley hovered over the platter of warm donuts and frowned. Despite his age, Orson’s expression bore a striking resemblance to his adopted grandchildren’s faces when they were told “no” by one of their parents. “I don’t know how many times I’m going to have to explain this,” Maggie Mission, owner of Dogwood Donuts, said. “These donuts are for display purposes only. Ruby is about to host a book signing for her latest cookbook. You know that. I’ve already told you that if you want one of the donuts, you are more than welcome to go into the kitchen and get one for yourself.” “Why do I have to go all the way back in the kitchen for a donut?” Orson argued. “I don’t work for you anymore. I’m a paying customer and I want a donut.” Maggie couldn’t help herself. She broke into laughter at Orson’s comment. “I don’t think you’ve paid for a single donut since I inherited this donut shop from my Aunt Marjorie. And you certainly haven’t paid for a donut since you came to work for me. Even in retirement, you’re still not a paying customer, but, if you’ll give me a minute, I’ll go back there and get a donut for you. Just keep your hands out of these!” Although her own son Bradley was a full-grown adult and a father himself, she often felt like she was dealing with a child when Orson was around. “Why is Ruby having a book signing here, anyway?” Orson grumbled. He sat back down at the Old Timer’s table and crossed his arms. “Why isn’t she down in Little Rock or something, like usual?” Maggie slowly exhaled and retied her apron around her waist. She was determined to keep her nice clothes clean for the book signing. “Because, like I’ve told you before, her editor decided featuring her latest baking cookbook here was a good idea,” Maggie said. “It has something to do with Ruby being part owner of the business. I’m not sure I understand how publishing works, but this is what we’re doing. Now please, stay out of the donuts.” “I wouldn’t be a threat to these donuts if you would just hurry back into the kitchen and get me one of my own.” Orson raised his eyes to her and grinned like he had just solved the world’s most pressing problem. “Fine,” Maggie said. “I’ll go get you a donut, but please, stay out of the way while everyone arrives. We’re about to have the dining room filled with people wanting an autographed copy of the cookbook.” “You hope,” Orson said. “What does that mean?” Maggie asked. She made it as far as the counter and turned to look back at him. Orson shrugged innocently. “I just mean that you always hope people turn up for a book signing, but there’s never a guarantee that very many people will show up. Right?” He tossed the question across the room at Ruby who was nervously shuffling around freshly printed copies of her cookbook. “Technically, that’s right, but just so you know, even if no one else shows up, you still can’t have those donuts.” Ruby cracked a smile. Maggie bit her bottom lip to keep the laughter inside. She decided not to stoke Orson’s fire any further by laughing at Ruby’s response. Instead, she pushed through the swinging door that led into the kitchen and made her way to the cooling rack where the fresh, black walnut and apple donuts cooled. “Have you had one of these yet?” Naomi Gardner asked. She rested against the sink with a donut in her hand. “Ruby has really outdone herself once again.” “I sampled one when she was coming up with the recipe,” Maggie admitted. She pulled a white ceramic saucer from the shelf in the storage room and carried it over to the cooling rack. “I haven’t tried one of these yet, though.” “Oh, you really should,” Naomi said. “I mean, just the way she arranges these things is a work of art.” Naomi turned the donut over in her hand. It was a simple cake batter donut recipe, with raw apple chunks and roasted Ozark black walnuts in the batter. Ruby had chosen a black walnut and caramel icing that she dipped only half of the donut in, followed by a generous sprinkling of cinnamon and sugar all the way around. Naomi was right. There was more than just the wonderful taste to the donuts. The appearance was pleasant to the eye. “Have people begun to arrive yet?” Myra Sawyer Macklin called out to her from the office. Naomi and Myra were two of the donut shops most faithful employees, not to mention dear friends. It was Myra’s daughter that Orson, who lived with her and her husband Brooks, most resembled when he took to pouting. “Not yet.” Maggie plucked two fresh donuts off the rack and arranged them on a plate. “I’m just getting these for Orson. I’m afraid he’s going to mess up the display platter before Ruby is able to sign her first book.” Myra simply shook her head. “Oh, Orson,” she